"Long Way Down"
Julia L. Sen

*I started off liking this chapter, but now I'm not sure what I think about it. I don't want this story to drag on like SIL, and there still is a lot I want to cover, so please excuse some of these stupid plot devices. Thanks!*

CHAPTER 7

"Tear the petals off of you
And make you tell the truth"
-Hole, "Petals"

Joyce Summers strode through the long, ornately decorated halls of the Summers Art Gallery with great pride. She and her daughter had moved to Sunnydale two years ago, hoping for a chance to wipe the slate clean, and it had been granted. She had bought an old building, renovating it into her own gallery, and Buffy started her senior year at Sunnydale High in the fall.

Sure, they'd had their share of trouble, but things were finally starting to go right for them. At least, she thought so.

The familiar sound of her daughter's voice echoed down the hall, snapping her back to reality. Smiling, she headed towards it...

***
"Just let me do the talking, okay?" Buffy asked her companion. "It might be a little easier if you don't say anything before we know how she's going to react."

Angel nodded grimly. He remembered Angelus telling Mrs. Summers about his night with Buffy. How would she ever forgive him? He couldn't even forgive himself.

"Okay." Buffy nodded.

She also felt more than a little nervous about this. What would her mother think of her daughter showing up with her ex, someone who she'd said was stalking her and harassing her mother? Especially bringing him to her office? Would her mother even give her the chance to explain herself?

The two were so caught up in their own thoughts they never even noticed the woman rounding the corner. When they did, it was already too late...

"Buffy?" Mrs. Summers asked, shocked.

Buffy laughed nervously. "Hi, Mom. Guess you're surprised to see us here, huh?"

Mrs. Summers glared at her daughter, and Buffy knew she needed to do a lot better than that...

***
No sooner had Buffy entered her mom's office than the door slammed shut, and she whirled around to find her mother staring at her expectantly. She wanted an explanation, and she wanted it fast. ***
Meanwhile, Angel was left to himself and decided to browse the gallery's exhibits while sticking close to Mrs. Summers' office. He had always been intrigued by the arts. He marveled at the way the artists were able to express themselves. He, himself, enjoyed sketching. It helped take his mind off things. ***
Joyce Summers walked the short distance to the area behind her desk quietly and sat down. She was a mature adult and could surely handle this responsibly. Actually, that depended on Buffy's reasons...

"Buffy, sit down."

Her daughter obeyed without complaint. This was definitely not the time to argue.

Mrs. Summers took a deep breath. Things were starting off all right. She hoped they'd stay that way.

"Now, Buffy, please tell me why you're here and why you brought... him." She nodded toward the door to indicate the man in the hallway outside.

"Angel."

"Yes, Angel. The last time we talked about him, you said you'd stopped seeing him."

Buffy sighed. How was she ever going to explain this?

"I did," she replied, biting her lower lip nervously, "but then things changed... drastically."

"Really? How? My understanding was that he was bothering you, and you wanted to be left alone. That sounds pretty cut and dry to me. What happened?"

"Mom, it's a really long story, and I'm sure you have a lot of work to do..." Buffy began, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation.

"Honey, I'm my own boss. I have plenty of time," Joyce replied matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into her chair.

"Mom, I really just wanted to ask you a quick question about Angel..."

"Well, this includes Angel so talk."

Things weren't going too well. Buffy was left with only one choice: She had to tell the truth. Sighing deeply, she began to retell the story of the past two years, starting with when she first learned of her duties in LA...

'Giles is going to freak when he hears about this,' she thought remorsefully...

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