The Meeting

Wiping the sweat off his hands on his muggle-style pants, Remus gazed anxiously at the door of the little café for the millionth time.

Calm down, he told himself, but it didn't help.

After twenty-six years, Remus had finally found his long-lost sister (as cheesy as that sounded), with more than a little help from Dumbledore. He had attempted to track her down before, of course, but the Ministry had not wanted to do anything to aid a werewo. And, of course, in the end, the Ministry had turned out to be useless, as Dumbledore had received his information from a muggle source.

Remus had been stunned when he heard the news.

His sister, a muggle?

An American?

But Dumbledore had been sure of it, and had contacted her on behalf of Remus, knowing full well the werewolf would have stalled for as long as possible, working up the nerve.

And Dumbledore had taken care of everything, corresponding with his sister until this little meeting was arranged, in this small town of Cleveland.

Remus had done nothing but sit back, stunned, and now he felt nervous enough to loose what little breakfast he'd managed to choke down.

What if he didn't recognize her?

Well, that was a stupid question, he told himself. He had only ever seen her as a far-off bundle, of course he wasn't going to recognize her.

But the thought bothered him, not for the first time, and Remus unconsciously bounced his leg, glancing at the door once more.

After another five minutes of that, Remus decided to calm himself by taking a sip of the tea that he had ordered in advance. It was lukewarm, and the instant kind, but he barely tasted it, so it really didn't matter anyway.

Then the door opened, announcing the customer with a jingle, and he glanced up just in time to see a petite blonde stride in.

His breath caught.

It was her.

There was no doubt about it, that was his sister, and she looked so much more beautiful than he had ever imagined. She was healthy and tanned and she was all grown up, looking so much like their mother had looked, with the same height and the same nose and mouth.

He stood awkwardly, raising an arm to catch her attention, but she had spotted him already, and easily made her way through the maze of tables.

For a moment, they both stood there, staring at each other, and then she gave him a lopsided smile.

"Hi," she said, and held out her hand.

Remus blinked, and stared at it, dumbfounded, but his manners kicked in after that, and he shook it automatically. He felt strange, shaking hands with the woman that was his sister, and he could tell she felt it too from the way her smile faltered, but they were virtual strangers.

He swallowed, then said in a hoarse voice, "Hi."

Very articulate, he thought viciously at himself, closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a frustrated breath.

"Um," she glanced everywhere but at him, and said, "I'm Buffy."

"Oh," Remus replied, surprised that they had kept that name. "I didn't think...ah, Remus. Lupin, that is. Remus Lupin."

" 'You didn't think...' what?" she asked, pulling out a seat and sitting down, and he did the same.

He smiled awkwardly at her, feeling uncomfortable, unsure of himself, and he told her, "I didn't think they would keep your name. Your, er, parents."

She blinked. "My name?"

"Yes," he said, and took a hurried gulp of his cool tea. "Our...my - that is to say - er..."

"The parental unit," Buffy supplied helpfully.

"Quite," Remus nodded, and she smiled slightly at that, for reasons he didn't know. "They named you that before you were taken away. I just always assumed that..."

Fool, he cursed himself. It would have been so much easier if you'd looked for a girl named Buffy.

Hindsight was always 20/20.

"Well, they didn't," she chirped brightly. "Name's Buffy. Has been for a while now, actually. Ever since I could remember."

"Ah," Remus articulated.

There was an awkward silence.

Remus didn't know what to do; everything seemed so forced, so awkward. He didn't know what he'd expected to happen, but it certainly wasn't this. Foolishly, perhaps, he'd assumed - that word again, he thought, annoyed at himself - that they would, on some basic level, recognize somehow that they were family and tell each other all about their lives and secrets and joys and pains.

Like family.

Instead, there was this. And he hated it.

"So, Mr. Bumblebee told me you were a were?" Buffy said suddenly, playing absently with the strap of her little purse.

What? He choked. "What?"

She blinked innocently, "You know. Wolf-type, full moon hazardous to health, etc."

"How," he began, then changed his line of thought. "This doesn't bother you, does it?"

Remus didn't want to think about what he would do if his own sister, the only family he had left, rejected him because he was a werewolf.

"Nah," she banished his fears with a careless wave of her manicured hand. "My best friend dated one, once. He was a decent guy."

He sighed in relief, then furrowed his brows. "Your best friend dated one? And you knew he was a..."

"Had initial trouble figuring out who the were really was," Buffy smiled brightly. "Since he didn't really know himself, but after he figured it out, we figured it out, and it was all good."

"How did you figure it out?" Remus asked, curious despite himself. "Most people wouldn't see the symptoms, no matter how obvious, and connect it with...you know."

"Well, we weren't most people," she replied causally. "For one thing, I'm a Slayer."

His heart stopped for one precious second.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"Slay-er?" she repeated, enunciating. "You know, the one girl...well, not really the one girl anymore, we really need to make up a new slogan..."

She descended into muttering to herself, and Remus brought her back to the present conversation, "You're a Slayer?"

Buffy nodded, grinning widely.

"You..." he struggled with words, then finally choked out, "Since when?"

"Uh...since I was fifteen," she answered, preening. "I'm not the oldest on record yet, but I've served for eleven years, and Giles says I've revolutionized the whole fighting evil thing, so I'm in the books anyway."

It took his battered mind a few more minutes to comprehend what she was saying. If she had been called eleven years ago...

"You're the original?" Remus gaped. "The one who...Called all the others?"

"Willow did that," Buffy said modestly. "She's bad with the wicca power." She blinked. "Well, not bad bad, like, awesome bad. Really, she's not evil. Anymore."

He continued to gape like a fool.

Buffy smiled at him again, another bright flash of pristine teeth. "So, Rem. Tell me a little about yourself. Now that you know my biggest secret, it's only fair you tell me yours."

"You already pegged mine," he answered faintly. "The whole were thing...that was it."

"Oh," she pouted. Then, Buffy brightened and said, "Well then, on to the rest of the story. What was your life like, what was mine like, we'll do the whole exchange-y thing, 'kay?"

He stared.

"I mean, okay, not every detail, because some of that you cannot tell your siblings, even your long lost ones, because that's just creepy, but most of the events, and all of the good stuff," Buffy babbled, then caught herself, peering at him in concern. "Rem? You okay? Not creeping you out or anything?"

Remus smiled widely. "No, I'm fine."