Title: Thirst
Author: Katta ( head_overheels@... )
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Wes/Gunn, m/f
Series/Sequel: Number 16 of Birthdayverse Realities, or part 2 of the second
season. Previous versions at
http://www.geocities.com/katta_hj/fanfic/Angel/birthday/
Html version of this story:
http://www.geocities.com/katta_hj/fanfic/Angel/birthday/thirst.html
Summary: Gunn and Alonna deal with Lois's sudden appearance in different
ways. Meanwhile, there's some trouble at the shelter.

***

All these years, Gunn had thought he had his mother memorized: her face, her
voice, the way she moved. Now, he discovered he was wrong. Every minute he
spent with her, he noticed new things, and he imprinted them on his memory,
not daring to believe that he’d get to see her again.

She noticed the way he was looking at her and smiled. ”Penny for your
thoughts.”

He said the first thing that came to mind, ”You’ve got dimples.”

They deepened. ”Yes, I do.” She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek.
”And you’re all grown up.”

”Yeah,” he said softly. ”Weird to get used to, huh?”

”You can say that again.” Her gaze drifted off over Gunn’s shoulder, and he
turned to follow it. Alonna was still standing with the rest of the gang
some distance off, explaining the situation to them. At least he thought
that was what they were talking about. The guys were looking standoffish,
and he couldn’t blame them. They were used to weird shit going down; just
not this kind of weird shit. Teresa was chewing on her hair, Jamie on his
nails, and Rondell was standing a little bit closer to Alonna than Gunn
really liked.

Alonna was doing a poor job of calming them down, he thought, and then he
caught a glimpse of his sister’s expression and wondered if she was even
trying to calm them down.

”She’s so beautiful,” Mom said.

That wasn’t the word he’d choose to describe Alonna right then, but he did
his best to look beyond the stern expression to the features behind. Mom was
right, of course. Alonna was beautiful, it just wasn’t something he paid
much attention to. In this town, there were more important things to be.

”Yeah, I guess,” he said. ”I miss her hair, though.”

”She had fantastic hair,” Mom said, catching a lock of her own, her eyes
still fixed on Alonna. ”When did she cut it?”

”A few months ago. She got into some trouble with the cops.” Gunn caught
sight of his mom’s sharp glance and figured that maybe this wasn’t the best
story to share.

”What kind of trouble?”

That tone, he did remember. It used to be more than enough to make him
confess a prank, once upon a time. ”I think Alonna could explain it better
than I can.”

”Alonna doesn’t talk to me the way you do.”

True enough, but he felt a bit too old to go ratting on his little sister.
”She didn’t do anything wrong. That’s really all you need to know.”

Mom sat down on the stairs, remaining quiet for a while. After a long while,
she said, ”I’m not judging her, you know. I kind of hoped you’d both have a
better life than this, that’s all.”

He bit back the obvious reply - that they hadn’t been given much to work
with. It wasn’t like Mom had died on purpose. Maybe it wouldn’t have made
any difference if she’d lived, but what the hell, she probably felt guilty
for missing her chance to help. He got that.

”We’re getting there,” he said. ”I got an apartment now, and I know that the
guys have been talking to a landlord off eighth about getting a place in
exchange for keeping the neighborhood safe.”

”You’ve got an apartment or your boyfriend does?” Mom asked.

Gunn flinched. ”You heard about that, huh?”

”Yeah.” She looked down into her lap. ”It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind
for you either.”

”Kind of caught me by surprise too.” He remembered the first time Wes showed
up outside the basement to get that motorbike sold... though that had been a
total excuse, hadn’t it? ”I’m glad it happened. He’s good for me.”

Mom pinched her lips tight together. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

”Mom?” he asked, disturbed by her silence.

”There’s more to life than an apartment, Charlie.”

That seemed so out of the blue that it took a while for him to catch on.
Once he did, it was even longer before he could speak. He didn’t want to
speak, didn’t want to put into words what she’d implied about him and Wes,
but letting her go on believing it was even worse. ”You think I’m whoring
out for him?”

”What else am I supposed to think?” she asked, finally looking up. Her eyes
were a lot like Alonna’s, he noticed with some discomfort. The big
difference being that Alonna knew him.

”How about thinking I love him? ’Cause that’d be the truth.”

To her credit, Mom didn’t quite roll her eyes, but she came close enough to
make Gunn really annoyed. ”Charlie...”

For fuck’s sake, nobody called him Charlie anymore. ”What?”

She hesitated, and then shrugged, smiling a little as she said, ”You were
always such a guy.”

”Still a guy, Mom,” he said, but he could tell that she was willing to give
the discussion up for now, and he was too.

”A bit taller,” she teased him.

”A lot taller,” he said, stretching his back so their height difference
became more obvious.

”And I kind of miss your hair too.”

He ran his palm across his scalp. ”It’s practical.”

”But you had such pretty little curls.” Her gaze moved down from his shaven
head and touched his scars for a second before she looked away. Suddenly,
she seemed so very sad. She looked older than her years, too - well, older
than her lived years, anyway.

”We’re doing okay, Mom,” Gunn said, and even though they’d been fighting a
minute before and he still resented the hell out of what she’d said about
Wes, he wanted to give her the bear hug he would have at eight. ”We can take
care of ourselves.”

”Yeah, I guess,” she said, sounding less than convinced.

Alonna and the others had finished their conversation and were heading back
again.

”I’ve filled them in,” Alonna said. ”It’s cool.”

She sounded so curt Gunn felt sorry for Mom. Apparently miraculous
resurrections weren’t enough to make Alonna want a parent.

He wasn’t sure he wanted a parent himself. He just wanted Mom.

***

He was still at headquarters when Anne called. She was so incoherent that it
took a while for him to realize what she was talking about - but it was only
a couple of seconds before her panicked voice got his pulse up and his hand
reaching for a stake.

”There’s just more and more of them!” she wailed. ”Every time I look,
there’s another one, and the floor is ruined.”

”More of what?” he asked. ”Annie, girl, talk to me, more of what?”

”Leaks!”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. It
was a serious situation all right - just not life and death serious.

”All right,” he said. ”Take it easy. I’m coming over.”

He hung up and told Mom, ”Emergency. Gotta go.” In truth, he was kind of
relieved to get out of there. Having his former crew tolerating his presence
was worse than if they’d kicked him out plain and simple.

Driving up to the shelter, he could see nothing unusual, but he only had to
open the door to notice the smell and, a second later, the damp floor. Some
kids - none he knew - were mopping for dear life, but looking around, he saw
water flooding out from the bathrooms and dripping stains in the ceiling,
and he didn’t think the kids would be able to keep up with the destruction.

”Jesus,” he breathed and hurried further inside. The next room was the same,
and he bumped into Anne, whose eyes were red and puffy but who seemed much
more composed than she’d been on the phone.

”Thank God!” she said. ”Is Wesley with you?”

That puzzled him. What use would Wes be when it came to plumbing issues?
Coming to think of it, what use would he be when it came to plumbing issues,
with his hand still bandaged?

”No, it’s just me,” he said, noticing yet another stain. ”Wow, is there a
single whole pipe in the building?”

”Barely,” she said.

”You should turn off the water.”

”Can’t.” One of the kids was mopping inside the bathroom and reached for the
broken pipe under the sink. She snapped at him: ”Hey! No touching the
pipes?”

”What do you mean, ’can’t’?” Gunn asked. ”I could do it for you.”

Anne shook her head and gave a little laugh that bordered on hysteria. ”No,
you can’t.”

”What are you talking about? Of course I can. Have you called a plumber?”

”Obviously,” she said, opening the cellar door. ”That’s when the problems
really started.”

They walked down to the cellar, which was already foot-deep in murky water.
Anne stopped on the stairs and gestured at the motionless figure standing
further inside the room with his hand frozen on the main faucet. ”There he
is.”

Gunn stared at the plumber, who stood still as a statue, not even blinking.
”What the fuck?”

”There are two more people like that in other rooms,” Anne said. ”So we
can’t really turn anything off.”

Gunn nodded slowly. ”I’m calling Wes.”

”Please.”

He got Wes on the phone and had only just started the explanation when Wes
said, ”Bog pixies!”

Okay, that was pretty amazing. ”You sure?”

Wes immediately backed off and became cautious and apologetic, ”No,
obviously I’ll have to see the scene. But it does sound like bog pixies.
I’ll bring some different books just in case.”

”Want me to pick you up?”

”No, no, there’s a bus leaving in five minutes.”

”All right, see you here then.”

It wasn’t until Gunn had hung up that it occurred to him to find it strange
that Wes had apparently already learned the bus route outside their building
by heart.

Gunn figured he couldn’t just stand around and wait for Wes to show up, so
he got his hand wrapped in a plastic bag and started mopping. It was pretty
frustrating, since water kept spurting out from new places, and sewage too.

He strongly suspected that even if they managed to stop whatever the hell
was going on with the pipes, the damage would be more than the shelter could
afford. This could close the place down for a long time, meaning more kids
on the streets - and more snacks for the vampires.

When Wes appeared with a large bag, Gunn could have kissed him, but instead
he just followed Wes and Anne down to the cellar.

Wes dropped his bag at the top of the stairs and headed down, wading through
knee-deep water to the plumber. He took a small flashlight from his pocket
and shone it into the plumber’s eyes, and then at the pipe.

”Don’t touch the pipe,” Anne said automatically.

”I won’t,” Wes assured her. He turned off the flashlight and headed back
upstairs. ”Bog pixies, just as I thought. It’s a simple spell, but I’ll need
a couple of assistants and some supplies.”

”Make a list and I’ll put the kids on it,” Anne said. She hesitated, and
then said. ”You know what? I think I’m going to call David. He can assist
you.”

”David?” Gunn said. ”David Nabbit? Why would you...” Because David Nabbit
would be thrilled to participate in a real spell. Because a thrilled David
Nabbit might be a generous David Nabbit. ”Damn it, woman, you’re devious,”
he said with admiration.

Anne blushed. ”I think he’d enjoy it, that’s all.”

Gunn grinned. ”He probably will. Okay, go call him, see if he’s available.”

”Terrific,” Wes murmured when Anne had left the room and he was stiffly
walking up the stairs in his squelching pants. ”I will have to do this spell
with a giddy assistant.”

”Look around you,” Gunn said. ”If Anne wants to keep this place open, she’ll
need some cash. She’s just trying to do something to please the one guy who
might be able to provide it.”

Wes stared at him. ”The way you two treat David Nabbit is appalling.”

And the way Wes kept babying their only stinking rich aquaintance was more
than a little weird. Gunn suspected it was some kind of ex-dork to dork
loyalty. ”The guy’s a billionaire,” he pointed out. ”He can spare the cash.
Can you think of a better way for him to spend it?”

Wes scowled, but didn’t argue. He just muttered, ”I hope he has the strength
to say no when he needs to.”

”You could always ask him,” Gunn said brightly.

Wes snorted and took a swipe at him, but Gunn had meant it. There wasn’t
really any better way to find out.

Gunn returned to mopping. Several of the kids headed down to the cellar to
deal with the plumber - he was about as manoeuvrable as a large piece of
furniture and the stairs were pretty steep. Most of the furniture had been
stacked to minimise damage, but Wes took one of the remaining chairs,
sitting down with his books and a list. At one point he called to Anne, ”Do
you have a silver bowl?”

She called back, ”Are you joking?”

”Stupid question,” he mumbled with a grimace and made a note on his list.
Finally, he tore the list off the pad and handed it to one of the remaining
kids. ”Please take this list to Old Al’s. If they don’t have all the items,
try the other addresses I’ve written. Ask them to put it on my account.”

The kid eyed the list. ”Sugar and water too?”

”Raid the kitchen first,” Wes said with more patience than Gunn would have
granted the little smartass.

The kid ran off with the list, and Gunn gestured with the mop at Wes. ”Care
to do some real work?”

”Time to get my hand dirty, eh?” Wes put his book aside and picked up the
kid’s deserted mop. ”Mopping flooded floors has always been my goal in life.
Is this where you’ve been all day? I thought you were meeting Alonna.”

”I was,” Gunn said. ”I... well, it’s a long story.”

”Was it an old girlfriend?” Wes asked, wringing the mop out into a bucket.
His eyes didn’t meet Gunn’s.

”No. Definitely not.” He wanted to talk to Wes about Mom, but he wasn’t sure
how to explain. It felt too personal somehow - he just knew that Wes would
ask a bunch of questions that he didn’t have the answer to, and that would
ruin the whole thing. He needed the miracle to stay miraculous for a while,
no analysis breaking it down as a freak magic accident or whatever. ”It’s
complicated.”

”Apparently so,” Wes said. ”I tried to call you three times. I was just
about to go find you when I got your call.”

So that was why he knew the bus tours. Yeah, coming to think of it, Gunn had
been away for quite a while - but why wouldn’t he be? He could take care of
himself, and Wes knew that.

”You don’t have to check up on me,” Gunn said, and maybe it came out a bit
more annoyed than he’d intended.

Wes’s jaw tightened, and he started carrying the bucket to the door.
”Clearly not.”

Gunn swallowed a curse. When Wes clammed up like that, you knew he was
offended.

Well, there wasn’t much to be done about it right now.

***

David Nabbit was every bit as cringe-worthily enthusiastic as Wes had
expected, and as usual Wes felt torn between his desire to shield the man
from inevitable harm and box him in the ears. But he was too busy to do
either, drawing arrows on the ground and arranging the silver bowl and other
necessary props.

”This is so cool!” Nabbit said, cheeks flushed. ”We’ll rid this house of an
infestation of evil!” He spread his arms out, making his velvet red cape
flap in a way that was probably intended to look impressive. The effect was
rather ruined a second later by the fact that he stepped into a large,
smelly puddle on the floor.

”Echh!” he said, quickly stepping back again.

Anne gave him a slight, if somewhat tense, smile. ”I would find it cooler if
the shelter wasn’t falling to pieces.”

”Right, right,” Nabbit said, all of a sudden looking very professional for
someone in such a ridiculous outfit. ”I suppose even if we get the spell
done before nightfall the damage is too extensive for anyone to actually
sleep here. Do you have somewhere to send them?”

”There are a couple of other shelters. I’ve called them up, they’re aware of
the situation.”

”Saint Mary’s?” Gunn suggested.

”Good idea.”

”And you should talk to Alonna about squeezing some in at their place - for
tonight, at least.”

Anne pondered that and then nodded. ”I suppose your lot can handle them if
they get out of hand. The big question is what’s going to happen long-term,
though.” She glanced at Nabbit, who was busy watching the slight glimmer now
coming from the broken pipes. The pixies were becoming much too bold.

”Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gunn said impatiently. ”She’s trying to ask you for
money, Nabbit.”

Nabbit looked up, wide-eyed. ”Oh, of course...” he started, at the same time
that Wes barked ”Gunn!”

Anne had turned a deep shade of red, and Wes didn’t blame her. Gunn was
relentless, though.

”And Wes thinks you’re too polite to say no, or something. So they’re both
pussyfooting around the issue.”

Nabbit was now deep red too, and Wes wasn’t too sure what color his own face
might be.

”I’m not...” Nabbit started. He started on a few other words and finally
turned to Anne. ”Of course I’ll help. You know that. I’ll go through the
finances with you and everything, make sure we get this done in a
cost-effective way.”

Anne smiled, but there was a furrow between her eyebrows. ”This is quite a
bad investment for you, huh?”

”It’s a shelter,” he said. ”I wasn’t expecting anything else. Besides, it’s
not like it all comes from my own pocket. I’ll get the foundation involved,
obviously. It’s all tax deductible anyhow.”

He wasn’t sounding half as flustered as usual, Wes noted, though his cheeks
were still on the red side. Anne’s face had lightened, and her smile was
very sweet when she answered, ”Okay, then. Thank you, David.”

”You’re welcome,” he said, smiling back.

There was a silence of a sort that made Wes hesitant to point out that he
was finished with his preparations and that they were ready to begin.

Nabbit was the one to break the silence, turning back to him and Gunn: ”I do
know how to say no. Even to good, charitable organizations – I do it every
day. But I live in this town. I think making it a little safer is good life
insurance even for me.” His eyes caught Anne’s again. ”And then of course
there’s the added benefit of Anne’s company. That’s money well spent.”
Realizing what he’d said, his colour rose again, this time almost to purple.
”I mean... that is... I didn’t mean to imply...”

She took his hand. ”That’s okay, David. I get it. You know, a friend of mine
is hosting an Ed Wood marathon. Would you care to join me there?”

He stopped stammering. ”I’d love to.”

Gunn’s chin had dropped to an unseemly level, and Wes closed his own mouth,
determined not to gawk.

”Are we ready to start the spell now?” Anne asked Wes, her eyes still on
Nabbit.

”Almost,” he said. ”We need another person. The spell calls for five.”

Anne broke eye contact with Nabbit and hollered ”Demelza!” down the hall. A
short hispanic girl showed up – Wes recognized her vaguely from when he had
worked there. From what he could remember, she was a quiet, reliable sort of
girl and a very good choice for this kind of spell.

”We need your help here,” Anne said. ”Wesley will tell you what to do.”

Demelza looked to Wes, awaiting orders.

”All right,” Wes said, handing her a candle. He hoped she was somewhat
intelligent as well as obedient. ”Stand over here, by the arrow, and when I
point at you, I want you to say, ’I call you from the north. Pixies, join
us!’ Can you do that?”

”I call you from the north,” she said slowly. ”Pixies, join us!”

”Good! And then: ’I call you from the north. Pixies, drink!”

She repeated his words again, not a single one out of place.

”Excellent! Now, the others will be saying the same thing, from other points
of the compass, and then you repeat ’Join us!’ and ’Drink!’ Do you
understand?”

She nodded.

”Very good.” He’d given her the easiest spot - north came last, and she’d
already have heard the words several times by the time it was her turn. His
own spot would be the middle of course, and for east... ”Gunn,” he said,
”you stand over there.” He pointed to the eastern corner. ”And take a
candle.”

Gunn took a candle and went to stand where Wes had pointed.

”And what do you say?”

”I call you from the... wherever,” Gunn said. ”Pixies, join us!”

”East!” Wes said. ”You’re standing east!”

”Well, you didn’t tell me that,” Gunn said, rolling his eyes a little.
”Relax, will you?”

Wes tried to relax. It wasn’t easy. Though he had participated in group
spells before, he had never orchestrated one, and if any of them said their
phrases wrong, they would have to start the entire thing over, preparations
and all.

”Anne, you’re south,” he said, pointing in the right direction. ”David,
west.”

They each took their position, and he drilled them in their parts. It wasn’t
until he lifted the book up to start the spell that he realized something
concerning his own part. He could hold a candle, or the book, but he
couldn’t do both.

Biting back a curse, he put the book down on the floor and hoped things
wouldn’t get too messy when the pixies showed up.

”Gunn,” he said, ”could you light the candles, please?”

As Gunn did so Wes ran things through one last time in his brain. They had
everything they needed, up to and including the strainer and bucket, and
there was nothing in the spell that said it couldn’t be done crouching down
to read a book on the floor. Still, he wanted to at least start the spell in
a more dignified way - he had a feeling Nabbit would be terribly
disappointed if he didn’t.

He read the first few lines silently to himself, and then stood up, raising
the candle. ”I call you, pixies, from bogs and hiding places, from your
homes in this house...”

When the pixies came, they were even smaller than he had expected, and they
looked remarkably like moths until they landed in the bowl and started to
drink. Unmoving, their long sleek arms and legs became apparent, making them
eerily humanoid.

He looked away, concentrating on the pixies that were still coming in. They
were swarming around everyone’s faces, though fortunately no one was
dropping a candle or trying to wave the critters away.

Water splashed on the floor. The bowl was starting to fill up, and Wes had
to start sifting out the pixies into the bucket. At first, he juggled his
candle and the strainer both, but he soon gave up that idea and grabbed the
strainer with his teeth. In a way, it might have been better to let someone
else have the center spot - but no one else had the necessary experience.

He missed the bucket with some of the pixies and they lay twitching and
melting on the floor, but most of them he managed to plop in right where he
was supposed to. The other pixies didn’t seem the least bit phased by the
death of their peers; they kept landing on the bowl until the air had
cleared and there were none left.

Wes blew out his candle and took the strainer in hand, fishing out the last
of the dead pixies.

”Well done,” he told the others. ”Thank you.”

Gunn blew out his candle too and stepped up to look into the bucket at the
half-melted pixies. ”Man, that’s nasty. Do they always do that, or is it the
spell?”

”They always do that,” Wes said. ”Pixie bodies are really just held together
by the spirits inside. Keep the bucket around for a week or so, and then
there will only be sludge left. Unless,” he amended, ”you subject it to
water, in which case the pixie spirits will return and reform their bodies.”

”Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” Anne hurried to say. ”Take the bucket with you,
would you please?”

”Right.” He bent down, and only then remembered another thing about pixies.
”I could try selling it for you. Fresh pixie essence can bring in a pretty
penny.”

”Oh, don’t!” Demelza protested, peeking into the bucket. ”Poor things!”

Nabbit cleared his throat. ”Perhaps we could... uh... release them into the
wild?”

Anne cocked her head, giving Wes a thoughtful glance. ”And what would a
pretty penny be?”

”Depends on the current supply in the city, but anything less than 500
dollars would be a rip-off...”

”Do it,” Anne said.

”But they’re so...” Demelza started.

”I have a paralyzed plumber and a shelter full of water,” Anne told her. ”I
don’t feel like a great humanitarian today, so don’t give me any shit,
okay?”

Demelza set her jaw. ”No, ma’am,” she said, blew out her candle, and left
the room.

Anne groaned. ”Oh, damn it. Least troublesome kid in the whole place, and I
had to say something like that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go off and
grovel.”

”Still want me to sell this?” Wes asked with a nod at the bucket.

”You bet.”

She gave them a quick smile and hurried away.

Nabbit started pulling at the strings of his cape. ”I suppose it’s time for
me to leave...”

”Or you could just hang around,” Gunn said, collecting the candles into a
bundle. ”Help out where you can and earn her eternal gratitude.” He grinned.
”Your choice.”

***

”We never seem to get home on time, do we?” Gunn said as he steered the
truck away from the shelter.

Wes gave him a surprised look. True, the work had taken quite some time -
selling the pixies, waking the plumber and so forth - but this was hardly
unusual. You couldn’t keep office hours in their line of work, and Gunn if
anyone knew that.

”Are you in some kind of hurry?”

”Nah,” Gunn said, his eyes fixed on the road. ”Just wanted to get home,
that’s all.”

Wes looked out of the window. ”Home to us or home to Alonna?”

”Where the hell did that come from?” Gunn asked sharply.

”I don’t know. Perhaps the fact that you spent hours at a place where people
resent you for being with me, and you won’t tell me why.”

”It’s not that I won’t, it’s just...” Gunn interrupted himself and sighed.
For a few streets, they rode in silence. Then Gunn spoke up again: ”It’s my
mom, okay? The woman that showed up... she’s my mom.”

Wes sat stunned, trying to process that. He had never asked about Gunn’s
parents, never given them much thought. He’d heard stories back when he
worked at the shelter and had assumed that Gunn’s was similar. In truth,
even Alonna was a bit too much of family for his liking.

”Oh,” he said. ”I never realized... I mean, I always thought you were an
orphan.”

”I am,” Gunn said. ”I mean, I was.” He pulled over, stopped the truck and
took a deep breath, both hands on the steering wheel. ”She’s back. She was
dead, and now she isn’t, and I don’t know how it happened, or why. It’s like
a dream come true and it scares the living shit out of me because things
like these don’t happen, you know?”

”I suppose I do,” Wes said slowly. He’d heard of people being brought back
from the dead, there were spells to arrange it, but only through very dark
magic. Unless of course the person in question was a powerful magic user or
demon... He could hardly ask Gunn if his mother was a demon.

Gunn started the truck again. ”So now you know.”

Yes, but knew what exactly? Wes wondered. He tried to phrase the question
with care: ”Are you certain it’s her?”

”I think I know my own mom, Wes!” Gunn snapped. He was approaching their
building and scowled. ”Aw, crap. What now?”

Wes looked, and saw Alonna sitting on the stairs outside. When she saw them
approach, she stood up, her scowl mirroring Gunn’s.

Gunn stopped the car and jumped out. ”Alonna! Is there something wrong? Is
Mom...”

”Mom has gone off somewhere,” Alonna said. ”She does that. I don’t know
where she goes, but then, I don’t really know anything about her, do I?”

”What are you talking about?” Gunn asked.

”I think she’s lying to us.”

Wes had stepped out of the car as well and gave Gunn a cautious glance, to
see how he would react.

Gunn’s jaw set and he crossed his arms. ”God, not you too! It’s her, okay?
It’s not some impostor, it’s really her, I know it.”

”I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Alonna replied, crossing her arms too. ”But she’s
still lying to us. Claiming she doesn’t know where she was, how she came
back...”

”She’s disoriented! Is that so hard to believe!”

Wes watched them both in silence, feeling he had too few pieces of this
puzzle to try to solve it - though he rather sympathized with Alonna’s
attitude.

”Disoriented,” Alonna said. ”Right. Well, Rondell asked me a funny little
thing, got me thinking. How did she find us?”

Gunn started to say something, and then closed his mouth.

”Exactly,” Alonna continued. ”If she woke up all wonky and wanted to find
us, she’d start with grandmom, right? Now, last time I saw her she thought I
was her sister, and I’m not so sure she’s even alive anymore! After that,
there’s aunt Joanna. All very well, except that’d only lead her to DCF, and
that would lead her exactly nowhere. Or do you think there’s some social
worker out there who’d go ’Oh yeah, I know where the Gunn kids are, they’re
out hunting vampires’?”

”So what are you saying?” Gunn growled.

”I think she knows what’s going on, and she’s not telling. Which makes me
kind of suspicious in general.”

”She’s our mom!”

”So what? Like moms never fuck up? Get off it, Gunn, she got stabbed in a
freaking strip joint, do you think she’s some paragon of virtue?”

”Shut up!” Gunn yelled, balling his hands into fists. He took a couple of
quick breaths and then said in a lower voice, glaring daggers at both Alonna
and Wes, ”You two. Jesus. Everything has to be a trap, huh? Fine. You stay
here and solve that little mystery. I got to go feed the vamp.”

He disappeared inside. Wes moved to follow him, but changed his mind. Gunn
didn’t seem willing to talk about this in a reasonable manner, and there
were still a lot of questions Wes needed answering.

So he found himself doing what Gunn had said - he turned to Alonna and
asked, ”Fill me in?”

She sat back down on the stairs with a sigh. ”I don’t know if I can, seeing
how I don’t really know jack shit. But, sure. What do you want to know?”

***