(Edited 04.03.2023)

I sat at the bar of my new temporary home, Giles' bar that cut his kitchen apart from his living room. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and I'd been staying here in the meantime while I looked for a place of my own to crash. I wasn't sure how I'd ever repay Giles for allowing me in his home for so long, but I hoped it would be with my miserable excuse of life if need be. It wasn't like I had anything else anymore.

"Pretty darn scary. It was more like a riot than a Ralph's. I thought I was going to have to use Slayer moves on this one woman who was completely hoarding the pumpkin pie filling." Buffy discussed. She had come over with some items of food to prep as she'd decided the entire group would celebrate together and had been kind enough to invite me as well. Although, there was a more pressing matter at hand than just a crazy supermarket.

"And at some point, you are going to tell us about the murder?" Giles questioned, helping her unload the brown bags of groceries.

"Oh, right. Uh, the knife was some sort of Indian artifact. Chumash, I think. That's all we got." She and Willow had gone looking because some woman who was planning on opening some important building for the town had been murdered along with having her ear cut off. Meanwhile, Giles had let me take up her 'Slayer Patrol' for a night, and I'd stakes maybe four vamps. Definitely not as interesting as the Chumash murder.

"Oh, Chumash Indians. They were indigenous to this whole area. That's interesting. Then, of course, the--um--the murder weapon might have just been a convenient choice." Giles suggested.

"Uh-uh," Buffy disagreed, "There was a big ole' scissors laying right there. That knife was picked for a reason." She explained, not giving anyone a chance to respond before she turned to Giles in a panic. "Do you even own a turkey pan?"

"Tell me again why we're not doing this at your house." Giles requested and I huffed a short laugh. The two of them definitely had some sort of father-daughter energy, but it was refreshing to see.

"Giles, if you would like to get by in American society, then you are going to have to follow our traditions. Isn't that right, Alex?" Buffy turned to me, and the sudden involvement in the conversation took me aback as I hurriedly searched for the correct answer.

"Uh, the turkey is good." I shrugged and she shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

"You're the patriarch." She turned her attention back to Giles. "You have to host the festivities, or it's all meaningless." She explained though that had never made sense to me.

"And this is in no way an elaborate scheme to stick me with the cleanup?"

"How about that ceremonial knife, huh?" Buffy asked in response, and my smile grew at the avoidance. "Pretty juicy piece of clueage, don't you think?" she grabbed a bag off the counter and went to put the rest of the groceries up, while Giles turned to me.

"Yes, all right." He said in complete acceptance of his fate to clean up. "I'll look into the, uh, Chumash connection, and see if there's any ritual significance to the ear removal."

"Thank you!" Buffy thanked him sweetly while I nodded along.

"Don't worry, G. I'll help you with the cleanup." I let him know and he gave me a nod of acknowledgment. Buffy began to leave the kitchen, pausing with a disturbed expression on her face. "You all right?" I asked her, wondering what was up.

"Yeah. Uh... I still need to pick up a few things, so I'll check in. And both of you keep your hands off the food." She pointed at the two of us, to which I held up my hands in defense.

"Oh, I'll try and restrain myself from eating uncooked potatoes and cranberries." Giles shot back sarcastically as they both joined me outside of the kitchen and Buffy made her way to the door. She stopped and turned back to us for one last moment at the door, eyes lingering on me in a way that began to feel uncomfortable before she stepped out.

"Well... How do you two feel about microwaved baked potatoes?" I joked as soon as she left, meanwhile, Giles moved from the doorway.

"What do you think?" he asked as Angel stepped through. He'd showed up a little while before Buffy had gotten here with information that someone he knew had a vision of Buffy in danger. I was informed his being here was a secret and we'd gotten formalities out of the way. It's a little awkward when you already know so much about a person and they don't even know your name.

"She sounds good. Kind of intense about this Thanksgiving thing." The tall, dark, and handsome man spoke as he stepped into Giles' living room. My eyes continued to draw back to his long black coat. The only thing I could truly remember about my mother's murder was the long coat the man was wearing, everything else had become fuzzier throughout the years, but this Angel guy didn't seem a bad guy. Although Giles had said he was a vampire, he also said he was one with a soul, and he trusted him. I still remained cautious.

"I think, perhaps, she's a little lonely, but I meant about the murder." Giles rephrased, taking a couple of steps closer to the man and sliding his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms.

"Whatever killed the woman in the museum, that's probably the danger." Angel spoke, though it seemed pretty obvious to me.

"Yeah, well, this danger. Your friend has some ominous vision about Buffy. It's all terribly vague. I mean, there are other things happening on this campus." Giles thought aloud.

"Well, maybe I'm wrong, but I gotta try something. I can't just keep watching." Angel said, touching on the fact that he'd been watching Buffy from afar--protecting her--since I got to Sunnydale the first time. It must have been part of the reason I saw and felt him when I left the first time.

"I'm glad that you're watching out for her, but I feel I should remind you that she's not helpless, and it's not your job to keep her safe." Giles said with a nod.

"Not yours anymore either. Are you going to walk away?" Angel pulled out the big question. A pang hit my teeth as I hissed at the discomfort, drawing their attention for only a moment before they turned back to the conversation as I stood from the stool.

"All right." Giles pushed himself off of the wall. "But I feel we should tell her. I don't like keeping this secret." He added as he walked to the couch. I passed him on my way to the bathroom to make a quick transformation, but he caught me before long. "Are you okay? Where are you going?" He asked, stopping me in my tracks. I slowly turned back to him, anxiety coursing through my veins as I could feel my ears burning. I knew he couldn't see it, but I felt like they could both see straight through this human façade.

"I need to pee. Carry on." I lied, quickly turning back and walking to the bathroom. I looked down at my hands as I turned the handle, praying neither of them had seen my purple fingertips. As soon as I was in the bathroom and away from the conversation, a sigh of relief escaped my lungs. I took a seat on the lid of the toilet and let myself come undone, putting my head in my hands. It was getting increasingly more difficult to hide this side of me for longer periods of time considering I only let it out for short lengths. I needed to figure something out soon. I either needed to tell them about myself, or find somewhere else to go.

☥

"So, what's the deal?" I hopped up on the barstool once more, not wanting to make it a crowd in the kitchen. I had passed out at some point in the bathroom and woken to Giles asking this morning if I was all right through the door. Needless to say, I definitely needed the extra time as my true self, and felt completely refreshed for today's festivities. Meanwhile, Angel had told Giles (who told Buffy) about a priest in town named Father Gabriel. He was the next lead to the case, but when Buffy arrived at his church she found him being hanged by a Native American who called himself 'Hus', but the strangest part was that before Buffy could kill him (if she could kill him), he transformed into a flock of birds and flew into the night sky.

"It's clear that we're dealing with a spirit of some kind. It's very common f-for Indian spirits to change to animal form." Giles informed us, pausing his duty of 'Potato Peeler' for the history lesson. Meanwhile, Buffy was putting the turkey in the oven and putting it all on the right temperature.

"Yeah, well, it's pretty uncommon for me to freeze up during a fight." Buffy replied, picking up one of the bowls on the sink counter in the kitchen. "I mean, I had the guy, I was ready for the takedown, and I stopped." She continued, putting the bowl on the bar counter in front of me. "And Native American." She corrected.

"Sorry?" Giles questioned.

"We call them Native Americans, not Indians." I explained for Buffy, gaining a small nod from Giles.

"O-Oh, right. Yes, yes. Um, always behind on the terms. Still trying not to refer to you lot as 'bloody colonials'." I smiled at the words.

"And the thing is, I like my evil like I like my men." Buffy continued.

"Tall, dark, and naked?" I interjected, earning myself a confused glance from the both of me.

"No. Evil." She answered. "You know, 'straight up, black hat, tied to the train tracks, soon my electro-ray will destroy metropolis' bad. Not all mixed up with guilt and the destruction of an indigenous culture." She continued, setting down a stack of what looked like recipes on the bar and beginning to look over them.

"This, uh, spirit warrior, Hus, you called him, has killed innocent people." Giles tried to remind her.

"Yeah, even took their ear for keepsake. I mean, he might not exactly be evil, but he's definitely not good." I commented. Buffy gave me a short glance as if she was thinking about what the two of us were saying.

"Okay, you know what. We need to boil those and then put them through the ricer." She directed, changing the subject which was a mechanism I noticed she used when she was presented with factual information or true accusations quite often.

"Uh, I don't think I have a ricer." Giles replied, which seemed to horrify the young Slayer.

"You don't have a ricer? What do you mean? How could someone not have a ricer?" she questioned in distraught.

"I don't have a ricer." I said though nobody asked.

"Do you have one at home?" Giles inquired.

"I don't know. What's a ricer?" Buffy asked. Oh, boy.

"We'll mash them with forks, much like the pilgrims must have." Giles problem solved, face completely stiff. "Did you catch the part about the innocent people?" He asked before she could object.

"Pretty sure Pilgrims didn't have forks." I muttered, catching Buffy's attention enough that she glanced back at me.

"That's not the point." She replied, then turned her attention back to Giles. "Yes, okay, and I do want to stop him. I'd just like to find a non-slay-y way to do it." With that, they were both back to their respective cooking jobs.

"But, Buffy, it's a vengeful spirit. Vengeful spirits don't stop until everyone who's done them wrong is dead, and do you know who did the Native Americans wrong? The Americans. We're American!" I exclaimed, but before anyone could reply, there was a soft knocking at the door. "I got it." I spoke up before anyone else could, hopping out of my seat. I was mostly just glad to have something to do while the two of them worked.

The door swung open to reveal a cutely dressed Willow carrying seven huge books and two boxes of peas.

"Hey!" She greeted me happily, at least, as happily as she seemed she could.

"Do you... Want any help with that?" I asked, pointing at the amount of weight she must've been carrying.

"Peas?" Buffy called from the kitchen.

"Peas." I called back to her, grabbing the peas off the top of Willow's stack as she stepped over the threshold, and handing them to Buffy through the bar window.

"These are frozen." Buffy noticed.

"What's all that?" Giles questioned the stack of books Willow set on his desk.

"Atrocities." Willow replied without hesitation. "I got the full poop on the Chumash Indians and our fabulous buried mission." She elaborated.

"You said you were going to get fresh ones." Buffy complained, still inspecting the frozen boxes of peas.

"Atrocities?" Willow asked in confusion.

"Peas. They come in little pods. You were gonna shell them."

"I-I didn't have time. I-I was busy reading about the Chumash war." Willow explained herself shyly.

"The Chumash were peaceful." Giles turned as I picked up a book, opening it up to begin reading.

"Hey, just be glad she got you peas." I mumbled, looking over the pages.

"Oh, they were peaceful, all right. They were fluffy indigenous kittens, 'till we came along." Willow continued her explanations as Buffy continued her inspection of the peas with a frown.

"They're gonna be mushy." She complained.

"They won't be mushy." Willow assured her.

"I like mushy peas." Giles turned to us with a childlike smile on his face, and I raised my hand.

"Seconded." I agreed.

"You are the reason we had to have pilgrims in the first place." Buffy said to Giles, setting the boxes on the bar, then turned back to Willow. "So, what happened to the Chumash?"

"Don't hold me to this, but I have the slightest inkling that they died." I joked, setting down the book and joining Giles in the kitchen to help him with the potato peeling now that he was by himself.

"How about imprisonment, forced labor, herded like animals into a mission full of bad European diseases." replied Willow. My mouth opened as I worded 'wow', though no sound escaped.

"Boy. The Cultural Partnership Center really didn't stress any of that stuff." Buffy's tone was sad as if she'd never taken a history lesson.

"Not even a diorama." Willow agreed. "And it gets better. The--The few Chumash who tried to rebel were hanged. A-And when a group was accused of stealing cattle, they were killed. Men, women, and--and children. And for proof to bring back to their accusers..."

"They cut off their ears?" Inferred Giles, who already seemed to know the answer to the question. He tossed a hand towel across his shoulder, moving to join them in the living area, and I peeled the last couple of potatoes as the conversation continued.

"So Hus wasn't kidding about the rightful vengeance routine. He's recreating all the wrongs done to his people." Buffy realized although it all seemed asinine to me. Yes, what happened to the Native Americans was wrong and horrible, but taking out their anger on the people of today who had nothing to do with the people back then was no better.

"Two wrongs don't make a right." I called over to them.

"Then it's up to us to stop him." Giles commented.

"Yes, but after dinner, right?" Buffy asked cheerily, hoping Giles would agree.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be helping him?" Questioned Willow, and I let out a scoff, joining them in the living area.

"Helping him murder innocent people in cold blood? I think not." I replied.

"I agree with Alex. I think perhaps we won't help the angry spirit with his rape and pillage and murder." Giles agreed, thankfully.

"Well, okay, no, but we should be helping him redress his wrongs. Bring the atrocities to light." She corrected.

"Well, if the History books are full of them, I'd say they already are." Giles noted.

"Well, giving his land back!" Willow suggested.

"It's not exactly ours to give." Giles argued as Buffy took a step forward to try and break up the conversation, only Giles was louder than her.

"You know, I don't think you wanna help!" Willow accused and I cleared my throat, stepping up beside Buffy. "I-I think you just wanna slay the demon, then go-"

"Enough!" I shouted, noticing that Buffy seemed to be getting overwhelmed. The two shot confused looks at me at the sound. "You both have very valid points, guys, but what we have to think about now is what measures to take that will help living people, not the already dead ones." I said, looking at them both before my eyes landed on Willow. "I know it sucks, what happened back then was awful, but there's nothing we can do to help them now. They've already chosen to kill innocent people, and I don't think that's something any of us want." I said and she nodded, though still seemed particularly upset.

"I have to baste." I heard Buffy, who made her way into the kitchen.

"Willow, I-" Giles spoke before lowering his voice and leaning over to Willow, taking a seat on his desk as he whispered, "I have reason to believe that Buffy may be in particular danger from this menace."

"You mean..." Willow glanced between me and Buffy through the window of the kitchen, "Angel?" She asked, a shock to Giles. "I saw him too."

"That's not terribly stealthy of him." Giles commented.

"I think he's lost his edge." Said Willow, even though he was quiet as a mouse last night.

"But Buffy doesn't know." Giles explained.

"Oh, no. Not a peep." Willow replied.

"Well, that's good, but this is why I think we should all keep a level head in this." He explained.

"And I happen to think that mine is the level head and yours is the one that things would roll off of." Willow argued.

"Will..." I said, noticing the shocked and somewhat hurt expression on Giles' face. Before anyone could say anything else, there was a hasty knock at the door. "I got it." I repeated, making my way to the large door and swinging it open. This was certainly becoming my job. There stood Anya and Xander, who looked like a complete trainwreck. His arm was around Anya's shoulder as if she was holding him up, his face was all pale, and his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat.

"Happy Thanksgiving." He waved at us while I looked him over.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Xan, but you look like crap." I commented, similar words to what he had once said to me.

"Thanks, Al." He nodded, lips pressed in a thin line.

"She's right. You look like death." Giles added.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked. Buffy joined us in the living room, looking over the deathly sick boy before speaking.

"You didn't bring rolls?"

☥

"And when the time comes to be going

It won't be in sorrow and tear

I'll kiss you goodbye and I'll go on my way

Grateful for all of the years

I thank for all that you gave me

For teaching me what love can do

Thanksgiving day for the rest of my life

I'm thanking the Lord He made you"

-Johnny Cash