Chapter 23

“Oh come on! Best two out of three!” Buffy implored the unwavering elf.

“I have said no to your request three times, that should be enough for you to stop persisting,” replied Elrohir. “I won your silly game, and now you have to pay the price.”

“But that’s how it’s done,” Buffy rationalized. “You flip a coin, or you do rock, paper, scissors, it’s always two out of three tries.”

“You did not explain that when you told us the rules.” Elladan finished polishing his sword, and returned it to its scabbard. He looked up at Buffy expectantly, and she finally ran out of steam.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but… do I have to do it right this second? I’m beat.”

The twins exchanged a glance, and Elladan shrugged. “As long as you tell us a small part of your story right now, we will leave you in peace.”

“For the moment,” Elrohir added.

Buffy blew out a loud sigh, and leaned her head back, swiveling at the neck to look at Legolas. She was trying to think of something inconsequential that wouldnÂ’t raise too many questions, when the blonde elf opened his big mouth.

“Why not tell them where you are from?”

Buffy stared at him in disbelief. “That’s the most complicated thing of all! I was thinking more along the lines of my shoe size, or my favorite ice cream.”

“No, I think I would rather know where you are from,” Elrohir grinned and inclined his head to Legolas.

Elladan piped up. “I as well would-”

“Yeah, I get it!” Buffy threw up her hands in exasperation. “Great minds think alike, huh?”

“Best tell them your story, and get it over with, Slayer,” Gimli suggested pointedly, and winked at Legolas, who stifled a laugh.

Elrohir’s sharp ears picked up the soubriquet Gimli had purposefully dropped and raised an eyebrow, now fully intrigued. “Slayer?”

“Oh my God!” Buffy stamped her foot, completely irritated by her companions’ inability to keep anything secret. She fumed for an instant, and then came to a decisive plan of action to turn the tables. She marched over to Legolas’ rucksack and began to rummage through it.

“Buffy?” Legolas called warily. “What are you looking for?”

“Soap!” came her sharp reply. “And a towel, if you have any clean ones.”

“I have some linen cloths for drying, but those are-”

“Mine now!” Buffy interjected, triumphantly holding up the soap and the linen. Grinning wildly, she chirruped, “I’m going to go take a bath. God knows I need one. While I’m gone, here’s something to keep you all occupied.” She pointed at Legolas and Gimli in turn. “Why don’t you two tell the Doublemint Twins where I’m from and who I am. I’ll give you a topic: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is from a place called Sunnydale, California, which is not found in this particular dimension. Discuss.” With that, she flounced away from them, heading for the stream in the woods.

Truth be told, Buffy was getting rather sick of her behavior at times. Keeping her secrets and acting belligerent was becoming very tiresome, and she wondered if it wasnÂ’t time for a huge change. But old habits die hard and her habits were deeply ingrained.

Ever since she became the Slayer, it was part of her calling to remain “Secret Identity Girl”, so now it was just second nature. Here, it didn’t really matter, she supposed as she tromped through the wooded area, trying to remember where the fishing brook was. Supernatural creatures were the norm in this world, so a vampire slayer, while unheard of in these parts, was hardly an anomaly, considering.

It wasnÂ’t as if she really cared whether or not El De Barge, or whatever their names were, really knew who she was. It wasnÂ’t that big a deal, but she just didnÂ’t like to be browbeaten and bullied. And she knew that she was going to be repeating herself over and over every time she met a different person, whether or not they were really entitled to know.

“‘Tweedles Dee and Dum’ sure think they’re entitled,” she said to herself, not caring if the elves could hear. “Well fine. But they’re not gonna hear it from me. Not right now. I’m disgusting, and I’ve had it with feeling icky!”

Finally finding the brook, she sank down onto her knees, and began to scoop up water with her hands. She brought the cold liquid to her face, and blinked the droplets away from her eyes. Buffy smoothed her hair back, and grimaced when she felt how greasy it was.

“I probably look like one of those goblin things right now,” she muttered. She hadn’t seen her reflection since she’d gotten here. Whenever the opportunity arose, she managed to avoid looking directly at it. Kinda like avoiding direct sunlight; it’s bad for the eyes, she mused. Now, she had a human’s inexplicable curiosity to stare at something repulsive. She peeped cautiously into the water.

It was hard to tell, with the water moving and all, but once it steadied a little, she could see. Buffy noticed her stringy hair first, the uncolored roots grown out about an inch and a half. Her face was smudged with dirt, and she was pretty certain she could see a zit or two cropping up on her cheeks. She drew her lips back over her teeth, running her tongue over the nasty film that had built up.

“Ucch,” she said, noting the nasty taste in her mouth. That was what came of not having any access to a toothbrush or toothpaste for a month. She always rinsed her mouth out as best as she could, but she couldn’t prevent cavities that way.

Having had enough, Buffy pulled her sweater off over her head, and shuddered at the odor emanating from her clothing and her body. Horse, dirt and sweat all culminated in a nasty cocktail. How Legolas had refrained from shoving her away from him when they hugged last night, she did not know.

Buffy noted the tufts of hair in her armpits and cringed. Not wanting to dwell, she pulled off her boots and socks, gagged, and stifled a sob. “This is just too much,” she whispered, blinking back tears. Taking a cautious breath, she pulled herself together before standing up and taking off her jeans, bra and underwear.

“Gross,” she whimpered. She had been wearing the same pair of underwear for a month. She couldn’t really wash her clothes, since she’d have nothing to wear while she waited for them to dry. Buffy just thanked God or whatever power was responsible, that she hadn’t gotten her period yet. She hoped, in fact, that her lack of the aforementioned would continue during her sojurn in this dimension, for everybody’s peace of mind.

The brook was shallow, about up to her knees, but she stepped in, letting her legs get used to the temperature. Figuring she may as well take the plunge, she found a large stone at the bottom of the brook to perch on, and sat gingerly. Holding her nose, she leaned back, and submerged her entire body in the water.

Buffy sat up abruptly, shivering. She knew she couldnÂ’t take too long with her bath. It was early morning, and it was autumn, therefore cold out, and the water was frigid. She grabbed the soap from the bank, and lathered up quickly. She soaped up her hair as well, giving it a thorough scrubbing to get all the greasiness and dirt out.

Starting to shiver uncontrollably, Buffy sped up her ministrations. She sure hoped that hot baths were available where they were going, as well as some kind of decent hair products, and maybe some lotions. A full-service spa would be a nice plus. Considering how pretty and well-maintained elves seemed to be, she wouldnÂ’t be surprised if they had a whole line of their own organic skin and hair care products at their disposal.

“Cold, cold, cold!” she whispered fervently, as she rinsed the soap from her body and hair. And her body hair. Buffy stood up carefully, finally finished and stepped onto the bank, running in place to get her blood going. She picked up Legolas’ towel, and began to dry herself.

Legolas always let her use these, and he was unfailingly generous with most of his things. Buffy experienced a pang of guilt remembering her cantankerous attitude towards him the previous day. Maybe she could offer to wash out his towels to make up for it. But feeling cranky was better than feeling nothing, she figured. In this world, her senses were beginning to awaken, especially when it came to the elf.

Her body warmed as she thought of him, and her heart sped up. Buffy couldnÂ’t say what she felt exactly, only that he was becoming a friend, a really good one, and she didnÂ’t know what sheÂ’d do without him right now. Gimli was a friend as well, and he certainly didnÂ’t let her get away with anything, so she had a good balance of sympathy and realism from the both of them.

Unlike her friends at home, who just tried to return to the status quo with her, they did not ignore her bad moods or pretend not to notice when she disconnected herself from life. Everyone at home wanted to play it as if everything was alright when it clearly was not. Gimli and Legolas always bravely confronted her, and boosted her up or kicked her ass when she needed it. BuffyÂ’s throat tightened as she thought of home, and the conflicting and painful feelings those thoughts aroused.

All her emotions, foul and fair, were a good sign. The month following her resurrection was hellish in that she wasnÂ’t exactly certain that her soul had returned along with her body. She worried that it perhaps wandered somewhere, because she just couldnÂ’t bring herself to care about anything. She had still felt dead.

In this new world she was beginning to realize that her soul was still with her. Maybe it was just in shock, or maybe she was just depressed. Whatever it took, though, Buffy knew she had to make it through this. It was so hard, but she would do it.

Determined to be more friendly with her companions, old and new, she drew her smelly clothes back on, and pulled on her socks and boots. She wrapped the damp towel around her hair and headed back to camp, her body feeling refreshed and her heart feeling just a little bit lighter.

Wesley sat at his desk at the hotel office, poring over the notes heÂ’d made earlier. He squinted again at the text he had been referring to, and then at the computer screen. Muttering to himself, he began to jot something down, when suddenly a noise made him look up sharply. He stood as the sound of a door slamming shut was followed by running footsteps.

Wesley watched as Angel jogged down the lobby stairs and made for the office, hurrying as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Without acknowledging WesleyÂ’s presence, the vampire entered and went straight to the fridge, humming an off-key tuneless melody to himself as he rummaged through it.

“Something wrong?” Wesley asked after a moment, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Huh?” Angel started, hitting his head on the top of the fridge. Straightening up carefully, he rubbed his skull, and turned to Wesley with a dazed look on his face.

“I said is something wrong? Since you’re looking for food, I assume Buffy’s not in danger, so you must be all finished watching her.” The bespectacled Brit eyed Angel circumspectly, noting his self-conscious demeanor.

“I wasn’t watching her!” Angel shouted defensively, and Wesley raised an eyebrow. Angel backtracked. “I mean… I wasn’t watching her just now, and I’m not finished I’m just taking a quick break… ‘cause I got really hungry,” he explained hurriedly.

“Okay,” Wesley replied airily, not wanting to press the issue since he had other things to discuss with Angel. “Er, if you have time during this break, I’d like to draw your attention to something.” Angel closed the fridge and headed over to the desk. Wesley flipped through the notepad to the first page.

Angel leaned over Wesley, studying the hastily written scribbles which were supplemented by little dots with lines drawn between them. “You’ve been playing connect-the-dots?”

The former watcher frowned at his associate. “No, these are constellations. Do any of them look familiar to you?”

Angel took a second look. “Yeah,” he pointed to the patterns in turn. “Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pisces.” He straightened up and shrugged. “Why?”

“I noticed these same constellations were in the sky in the world where Buffy is,” he intoned sagely. “Doesn’t that strike you as rather odd?”

“I guess,” Angel replied thoughtfully. “I hadn’t really picked them out when we first saw that sky, but now that I think about it… yeah, they were there. What do you think that means?”

Wesley shook his head. “I don’t know. Even though it was dark, the terrain of that place reminded me a lot of… the English countryside.” He glanced up at Angel to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah, it did.” Angel nodded, and began to pace. “But Pylea’s terrain was a lot like this dimension’s, so that could mean anything…”

“But Pylea had two suns.” Wesley interjected, his tone becoming more earnest. “And it was more than just its appearance, it was more of a general feeling I got from this place. It felt like… home.”

Angel seemed to chew this over, but then began to look doubtful. “Ireland was my home, remember, Wes? I mean, it seemed a little familiar, but… I don’t know. Unfamiliar at the same time.”

Both men were silent for a moment, contemplating what they had seen in the Axis that day. Wesley tossed his notes back onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, his hands overlapping on his stomach.

“Angel, I’m no expert on astronomy, but I’ve been checking online and… those constellations are exactly in the places they should be for this time of year over the Northern Hemisphere.”

“The trees…” Angel wandered slowly over to the window, staring out into the night. “They were changing color. It’s autumn there… and here.” He turned sharply, staring at Wesley with a sudden realization. “How far ahead of us is England, time-wise? Eight hours?” At Wesley’s nod, he made some quick calculations. “It’s after ten here, and there it’s just past dawn.”

Spurred on by Angel’s notion Wesley continued. “I also noticed that as the sun began to rise, and all the other stars faded, there was one star that was still quite visible.”

Angel ceased pacing and turned his head to look at Wesley. “Like the morning star, Venus?”

Wesley’s expression was inscrutable. “But it was in the wrong place,” he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “Venus can never appear opposite to the sun in the sky, but in Buffy’s dimension, it shone in the West, while the sun rose in the East.”

Angel’s eyes shifted from side to side in consideration of this information. “Huh,” he responded. “So what does all this mean, Wes? Is she just in England, but with an out-of-whack morning star?”

“Or another version of it… somewhere.” Wesley began rubbing his temples. “My head is pounding with the effort of trying to make sense of that.”

Angel frowned, trying to puzzle out this mystery. “I can’t really wrap my mind around it now, either.”

The vampire made an attempt to start for the door, but before he could go, Wesley stopped him with more of his insights. “Something else, I noticed, and I wonder if you saw this as well.” Wesley paused, his eyes focused somewhere over Angel’s shoulder as he worked out his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Angel urged, a little impatiently.

Wesley met Angel’s eyes again. “Growing up, I became rather good at reading lips… I won’t go into exactly why…” Here, Wesley looked away uncomfortably. “But suffice it to say, it’s a skill I still possess.” He swiveled his chair from side to side. “I watched very carefully as everyone we saw in the Axis was speaking, and I couldn’t understand a bloody word they were saying.” His eyes connected with Angel’s again. “Not even Buffy.”

Angel stared at Wesley for a moment, taken aback. “Buffy took three years of French and can barely say ‘Bonjour’,” he laughed. “How could she possibly…” He shook his head, unable to complete the thought.

Wesley shrugged. “Perhaps I’m wrong. If you’re not finished watching, you could try to read what they’re saying and tell me what you see.”

Angel nodded slowly, and then strode toward the office door, turning to look at Wesley over his shoulder. “Keep working on all the other stuff. See what else you can figure out.”

“Yes,” Wesley responded eagerly. He jumped up and walked to the bookshelf, scanning the tomes. When the former watcher continued to speak, Angel stopped in his tracks and spun around reluctantly. “I’ll try to see if any of our texts have writing like the engraving on that sword. I also have some books on mythological creatures. I think Buffy’s pointy-eared friends might be something akin to a people based in Norse mythology-” Sensing Angel’s impatience to get back upstairs, he stopped rambling. “Why don’t you, er, go back to the viewing room, as it were?” he suggested.

Angel turned and began to exit the office. “She should be done by now,” he murmured to himself, but not quietly enough.

“Done with what?”

Angel halted dead in his tracks at the question. Wesley thought that if the vampire could blush, he would be beet red right about now. He pivoted slowly, and seeing Wesley’s interested and expectant gaze, he searched for an explanation. Unable to come up with a sensible lie, he capitulated and looked down at the floor, muttering. “She’s taking a bath.”

“Beg pardon?”

Angel rolled his eyes and brought his head up, his discomfiture apparent as he repeated himself. “She’s taking a bath,” he said a little more loudly. “In a stream. I thought it would be rude to watch, okay?”

Wesley took this in, and tried very hard not to smile. “Very gentlemanly of you, I’m sure.”

“I’m back, I’m refreshed, cleaner, a lot less smelly and a lot less bitchy,” Buffy announced cheerily upon her return to the campsite. “And I’m starved. What breakfast food do we have for Buffy?” She plopped herself down on the ground, unwrapped the towel from around her head and accepted the Lembas Legolas handed her without complaint.

As Buffy munched on the waybread she didn’t appear to notice that her companions were all staring at her with varying degrees of incredulity. In truth, she was kind of reveling in the fact that she’d surprised them all with her airy demeanor, and milked it for all it was worth. She made little ‘yummy’ noises as she ate, and picked up stray crumbs with her fingers, making sure she got every little bit of her breakfast eaten.

When she was finally finished, she sighed contentedly, and gazed off into the distance, surveying the land and the sky. “You know,” she said philosophically. “I probably haven’t said it before, but this place is really beautiful. It’s like…” she searched for a suitable comparison. “It’s like the Land of Oz, but without all the giant tacky fake flowers.”

When no one responded, she looked around at the group. They were still staring at her strangely. “What?” Buffy straightened up, pretending to be self-conscious.

After a few seconds, Elladan spoke up. “You are a vampire slayer?”

“From another world?” Elrohir asked, obviously befuddled by the concept.

“That’s me,” Buffy replied lightly. “Why, is that just really hard to believe or something?”

“How can there be… a world that is not this one?” Elrohir shook his head, as if trying to ward off a huge headache.

Buffy shrugged. “Don’t know. But there is, ‘cause I ain’t from around these parts,” she drawled.

“And vampires are different where you are from?” Elladan leaned towards Buffy, intrigued. “Legolas tells us that you say they are blood-drinking demons inhabiting the bodies of dead humans.” Buffy nodded, but Elladan still seemed confused. “And that you kill them with a stick of wood.”

“Well, it sounds so simple when you put it that way,” Buffy said and rolled her eyes. “It’s not as if I just walk up to them, say, ‘Hey there,’ and poke them in the chest. There’s a lot of kicking and punching, not to mention all the punning. And it’s not all vampires. There’s preying mantis demons, mayors that turn into giant snakes, you know, your average garden variety of evil creatures.”

Buffy suddenly noticed that Legolas and Gimli had heretofore been completely silent They just sat by, staring at her intently, exchanging a confused glance now and then. The way they were observing her so closely was beginning to get on her last nerve, and she finally broke.

“Okay, I know what’s got the twins all up in a tree, what the hell is the matter with you two?” Buffy asked quizzically.

Taken aback, Legolas glanced at Gimli and chose his words very carefully. “Nothing,” he denied. Buffy gave him a disbelieving stare. Reluctantly, Legolas backpedaled. “Well, it is just that you are so…”

“Talkative,” Gimli provided.

“Yes,” Legolas nodded eagerly. “And also very, very…” he trailed off again.

“Cheerful,” Gimli spoke again. “We are not used to it. ‘Tis very disconcerting.”

Offended, Buffy crossed her arms. “Well, if you want, I can go back to being grouchy and depress-o Buffy. She should be coming back any time now anyway.”

“No!” everyone shouted, almost at once.

“Hm.” Still a little wounded, Buffy dropped her defensive posture. “A good fight and a bath can do wonders for a girl.” She eyed the group hopefully. “Are we done talking about all my stuff, ‘cause-”

“This world of yours sounds vastly unpleasant,” Elrohir muttered, still looking rather dazed.

“Why don’t we pick up right where we left off?” Buffy muttered to herself.

“And you travel the land, slaying evil where you find it?” Elladan inquired.

“No, it pretty much just comes to me. I stay in one place. It’s a town called Sunnydale, which happens to be built on a Hellmouth.” Buffy answered matter-of-factly.

“A what?” asked just about everyone.

“A Hellmouth,” Buffy repeated. “It’s an area where the walls between our world and the underworld are weak. It’s kind of a hot spot for demonic and supernatural activity. Hence all the poking things with sticks and the weird goings-on.”

“The Underworld,” Elladan echoed softly, his eyes wide.

“Yup,” Buffy affirmed. “Every couple of years or so, some nasty something-or-other tries to open it up and destroy the world. That’s where I come in.” Buffy paused thoughtfully. “And my friends, they help with that, too.”

“They are slayers as well?” Elrohir cocked his head to one side curiously.

“Nope, there’s just one slayer per generation,” Buffy stopped and corrected herself. “Well, two, actually. I died for a really short time, and my friend Xander revived me.” She glanced meaningfully at Legolas, begging him with her eyes not to speak. He seemed confused, but he did not speak.

“How could you be revived if you were dead?” Elladan asked incredulously.

“Well, I’d drowned, and I’d only been dead for a short time. Xander pulled me out, and…” Buffy tried to think how to explain CPR in a way they’d understand. “You breathe into someone’s mouth and press on their chest to get their heart going, and that’s what saved me. Gross, but effective.”

“I wager that Ada has never heard of such a thing,” Elrohir declared skeptically. “But in any case, you died and… then what?”

“I was dead long enough for another slayer to be called. Kendra,” Buffy said sadly. “She didn’t last very long. After her, Faith came, but she went crazy and turned evil…”

“And after her?” Legolas prodded.

“No one,” Buffy answered. “Faith’s still alive. She’s in prison. She turned herself in. Who knows what’s going to happen with her.”

“So now your Hellmouth is left unprotected,” Elrohir stated severely. “Why and how did you come here if there is no one to guard it?”

“I didn’t!” Buffy exclaimed in her defense. “I have no idea how I got here, and I sure as hell don’t know why this happened. That’s why I’m off to see what’s-his-name-.”

“Gandalf,” Legolas and Gimli said together.

“What they said,” Buffy murmured tiredly. She was now starting to feel the lack of sleep from the previous night, and yawned.

“And to see if our father can help,” Elladan added.

“The more, the merrier.” Buffy rested her chin in her hand, and stared ahead blankly.

“Do not fall asleep just yet, Slayer,” Elrohir demanded loudly, as Buffy’s head began to droop.

“What?” Buffy croaked crossly. “Aren’t we done with the interrogation yet?”

“Grouchy Buffy has returned,” Gimli muttered to Legolas, who shushed him.

“I wish to know more of this place you come from,” Elrohir rose, walked over to Buffy and crouched in front of her. “No elves live in… what is it called?”

“What’s what called?”

“Your world, your realm, woman!”

“Earth. Just plain old Earth. Terra Firma if you will. No middle or bottom, just Earth. Seven continents, four oceans, and a whole lotta people.” Buffy closed her eyes. “And no elves.”

“Tell us more of this Earth, won’t you?” Elladan pleaded, now very eager to hear of unknown places.

“Mmmmm,” Buffy groaned, and frowned, her eyes still closed. “Sleep now.”

“Not now,” Elladan stood and joined his brother at Buffy’s feet. “At least give us a song of one of your adventures.”

Buffy opened one eye. “Huh? I don’t have any songs about that stuff.” The eye snapped shut again.

“Then sing us a song of your people, or better yet, give us a tale!” Elrohir suggested.

Both Buffy’s eyes cracked open at this. “What is this, story time for kindergarteners? I don’t sing-”

“Unfortunately, sometimes she does,” Legolas smirked, and Buffy cast him a nasty look.

“Oh!” cried Gimli excitedly. “Sing the song you were humming a few days ago. A tragic story,” he told the twins. “About a dancing bird woman and her doomed lover. Her name was uh… er…”

“Lola!” Buffy was fully awake now. “For the millionth time, Gimli, her name was Lola, and she was a showgirl, not a bird woman!”

“Then why the feathers?” Legolas asked teasingly.

“Merely for decoration.” Buffy put her face in her hands half in exasperation and half in remembered humiliation. For some inexplicable reason, during their traveling hours, Buffy had gotten “Copa Cabana” stuck in her brain, and no matter what song she tried to replace it with, she couldn’t get rid of it. Without even realizing, she’d begun to sing it under her breath, hoping to perhaps exorcise it by getting it out in the ether.

Unfortunately, Legolas and Gimli had heard enough to make them curious. They insisted on hearing the entire number until she begrudgingly gave in. They enjoyed the song immensely, although they could not understand some of the lyrics. Buffy refused to go into it; it was enough that she had sung the song. She really had no idea why Barry ManilowÂ’s greatest hits seemed to have taken up residence in her mind, but now she cursed him silently.

“I would like to hear about this bird-woman,” Elladan piped up.

Buffy uncovered her face, and stood resolutely. “No, a world of no,” she told them.

Disappointed but not defeated, the twins tried another tack. “Well then, tell us of these elves who make shoes,” Elrohir suggested.

“Yes, tell us that tale,” Elladan agreed heartily.

Buffy was about to voice another denial, but she suddenly thought better of it. A slow smile spread across her face. “Why not?” she said, and sat back down. “Let’s see… how does it start?” Buffy tapped her finger on her chin. “There was once this shoemaker who was really poor, but a nice guy that everyone liked. He didn’t have enough money to buy leather to make more than one pair of shoes, so one night…”

Gimli was rolling on the ground, tears of mirth streaming down his face. Buffy was having a hard time continuing the story, her breathing punctuated by giggles caused by the dwarfÂ’s contagious laughter. The three elves sat silent and sullen, unamused by the story and its effect on the other two members of the party.

“They are… tiny naked creatures!” Gimli chortled. He sat up, his belly shaking, and wiped the tears away from the corners of his eyes. “Merrily making shoes throughout the night and skipping away at dawn!” He was overtaken by another fit and fell backwards.

Buffy cackled, leaning forward, almost in pain. “Then the shoemaker’s wife says… ‘Let’s make the poor things some teeny tiny outfits’.” She took in a deep breath. “So that night, they put out the clothes, and hid, and they see the little elves come in all hippity-hop, and…” Buffy continued the story until its end, with the elves happily exclaiming over their new clothes, putting them on, and then dancing off into the night, never to be heard from again.

Elrohir grunted and looked askance at his brother. “Her world is filled with imbeciles,” he muttered.

“Such helpful little creatures, these elves.” Gimli’s laughter began to subside. “Would that they could be so in Middle Earth. A lot less trouble we would have.”

“And what of dwarves and their waywardness, Gimli, son of Gloín?” Elladan retorted irritably. He turned to Buffy with a frown. “Have you any silly tales of their kind in your realm?”

“Sure.” Buffy’s giggles came less frequently now and she took in as much air as she could. “One of these days, I’ll tell you about the seven dwarves: Happy, Bashful, Sneezy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey, and Doc.” Helplessly, she began to giggle again.

Gimli sobered up instantly. “What kind of fool names are those for dwarves?” he roared indignantly.

A moment passed and all were quiet. Legolas was biting back a grin, and the twins were doing likewise, but seeing GimliÂ’s affronted face, they could hold back no longer. The entire group, save the dwarf erupted into laughter.

“I liked the tiny naked elves better,” Gimli mumbled petulantly.

Wesley knocked softly on the door of AngelÂ’s room. He heard the vampireÂ’s grunt of assent, and entered. Looking around the room, Wesley found Angel standing at the window, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His head was up, and he seemed to be looking for something in the dimly brightening sky.

“All done?” Wesley leaned against the door frame, his tone gentle. Angel nodded, but did not turn. “Did you happen to notice if-”

Angel shook his head in reply and muttered, “Couldn’t make out any words that I know.” He shook his head again, and shifted his gaze to the floor. “Don’t understand how that’s possible.”

“Another mystery to solve in this tangled web,” Wesley conceded. He paused and then sighed. “But perhaps it’s not really all that important right now.”

“Maybe not,” came the vampire’s barely audible response.

Wesley pushed off of the door frame, and approached his friend slowly. “So, what do you think, is she safe for the moment?”

Angel didn’t answer for a little while, lost in a myriad of thought. At last he replied, “I think so.”

“Based on what?”

Angel finally turned around to face Wesley, an almost serene expression on his dark features. “She was laughing,” he said, a smile breaking out on his face. “With those pointy-eared guys and the dwarf. They were all laughing and having a good time.”

Wesley smiled in return, glad to hear that the Slayer was safe and among friends. “That’s good to know,” he said. “That she can smile and laugh despite all she’s been through. Perhaps those around her are having a good influence on her.”

AngelÂ’s smile faded just a little, and he was silent for a moment, no doubt thinking of BuffyÂ’s embrace with the blonde man.

“Yeah.”

AuthorÂ’s note: I know next to nothing about astronomy, guys. Even researching it made my head spin a little. So letÂ’s pretend for the sake of the story that I know what IÂ’m talking about.

Tolkien did base his universe on this one, making it a sort of lost history of Earth, so the constellations would be the same. (They wouldn’t have been the same thousands of years ago, but again, suspension of disbelief, folks.) His Cassiopeia was called ‘Wilwarin’ in ‘The Silmarillion’. There are other ME constellations that correspond with ours, but none of them appear in the Northern Hemisphere’s autumn sky. I needed more than one though, to make it look less like a coincidence, so I used Andromeda and Pisces, which are in the autumn sky in the Northern Hemisphere. However, I couldn’t find mention of them in the article I referenced for this chapter, (see link below) so we’ll just assume they exist in ME’s sky.

I’ve gotten some of my information, including Tolkien’s either purposeful or accidental difference between our morning star and Eärendil from a research paper by Dr. Kristine Larsen. The Astronomy of Middle Earth can be found here http://www.physics.ccsu.edu/larsen/astronomy_of_middle.htm should you wish to read it. Tolkien put his morning star opposite of the sun, which is not possible in our sky.

In my story, ME is not a lost history of our own Earth, but something else. Another dimension, yes, butÂ… a little different than the ones the Buffyverse people have encountered before. IÂ’ll get to it eventually in later chapters.

The main reason the constellations are significant is that Wesley, Angel and company havenÂ’t dealt with other dimensions that arenÂ’t some kind of level of hell. Pylea had a completely different sky, and this sky is nearly identical to EarthÂ’s.