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Lima, Ohio: The Other, Other Hellmouth

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Summary: Instead of moving to Sunnydale, Joyce drags Buffy to the Midwest. The slayer expects to find boredom in Ohio but instead she finds vampires, witches, werewolves, zombies, robots - and glee club. Eventual Faberry and Buffy/Santana.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > GleerakestrawberryFR1535180,239047,40211 Oct 1219 Oct 12No

The Pregnancy

Buffy sucked some fresh outdoor Lima air into her lungs. Rovello Drive smelled like freshly mowed grass and barbecue pits. The way she imagined every small town suburban neighbourhood to smell. But this place... Quinn Fabray's neighbourhood was like something out of a fairy tale. Every home on the street was at least three stories high with white marble columns on the front porch and hedges pruned into animal shapes. Mr. Schuester's baby blue '97 Honda looked so out of place with the Bentleys and the Rolls Royces in the long driveways. If Quinn was so rich, why did she go to McKinley High instead of some fancy, Catholic private school? Buffy wondered.

"This is the Fabray household," sighed Mr. Schuester as he parked outside a three story home with a Mercedes parked in the driveway.

Buffy looked out of Schuester's window and sighed. Some girls had everything.

Schuester used the brass knocker on the door when they'd stepped up the porch's stone steps, and the door creaked open to reveal Mrs. Fabray, a woman with the same honey coloured hair placed to perfection as her daughter. Buffy just couldn't tell whether the mother and daughter really looked alike, because of the immense Botox done on Mrs. Fabray. Her smile was plastic. Her dark eyebrows raised high as she smiled at Will and Buffy.

"May I help you?"

"Mrs. Fabray, we need to talk. About your daughter," said Will.

Mrs. Fabray's smile disappeared. "Please, come in," she said graciously, and ushered them into her home.

Buffy's eyes trailed around the foyer of the Fabray house. There was a wooden polished grand staircase and a wine red carpet that covered the hall floor. The family photos of the Fabrays lined the walls, every one placed in a gold gilt frame. Buffy didn't realize Quinn had an older sister. She wondered if she was a witch, too.

"You have a beautiful family," said Mr. Schuester.

"Thank you," smiled Mrs. Fabray, "Frannie left us to go to Ohio State University last year. Studying Finance."

"That's great," said Mr. Schuester, before Buffy gave him a look that said, 'cut the chit chat', "Look, Mrs. Fabray, we need to talk to you about Quinn."

"Please, call me Judy. Should I make some tea?" asked Judy.

"That won't be necessary," said Buffy, "Listen, Judy, have you noticed Quinn acting... strange?"

Judy picked at a French polished fingernail and shook her head, avoiding Buffy's eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

"Actually, I think you do. Listen, Quinn is dealing with some pretty powerful stuff, and if you don't help us, someone could get hurt."

Judy looked up nervously, her light green eyes fearful. "What has she done?"

"For starters, she set a girl on fire," said Buffy.

Judy's face fell, and she started to look ill. "I really think I should make some tea..." she said, stumbling into the kitchen like a zombie.

Buffy and Schuester followed her in as she filled the electric kettle and switched it on.

"So, go on," she said, pushing a strand of blond hair behind her ears.

"Q-Quinn," Buffy stammered, taken aback by the woman's nonchalant behavior, "She set a girl on fire and then blinded her! Don't you see how serious this is?"

"I d-do. Of course I do. I just... What am I supposed to do about it?" asked Judy, looking helpless.

"She's your daughter. You have to do something. She'll listen to you," said Mr. Schuester.

Judy smiled humorously and shook her head. "She won't listen to anyone. She's too powerful. Much too powerful ..."

"How long have things like this been happening?" asked Buffy. Judy Fabray looked frail. She look scared...

"My family comes from a long line of witches," said Judy, "But I gave that up when I met Quinn's father. He was so against magic. He's a devout Christian. He thought witchcraft was the work of the devil... So I gave it up. I thought it was worth it. My magic for my husband. It was a fair trade, wasn't it? Magic was banned from the house. I almost relapsed when my looks started to slip... See, I wasn't the most beautiful girl, but when I started dating boys I used magic to help me in that department. Magic made my skin clearer and my hair blonder and my features more beautiful. But when I met Russell, I had to make due with human devices. Make up, chemical peels, creams... It's all so much more tiring than just doing it with a snap of my fingers, but I did it for him. But Quinn... See, Francis was lucky. She's a plain looking girl, but with my genetics, she should've been much more unattractive. But poor Quinnie... She looked just like I did at her age. Frizzy brown hair, bulbous nose, awful skin. She had my bad metabolism, so she was a heavy girl."

Buffy frowned. Even if she had turned out to be a total dog, she couldn't imagine her own mother ever talking about her like that.

"I had to do something, didn't I? Quinn could never have the life she would've wanted if she looked so... I mean, the children used to taunt her at school for looking like she did. I couldn't allow it to go on any further. I never had to show Frannie any magic. She looked fine. Nothing that needed as much attention as Quinn. When she was around twelve or thirteen, Russell and I took her to get a nose job. But it wasn't enough. I told her about the witches, and showed her how to make herself skinnier with a simple spell. I told her she had to do it gradually, so that Russell would've thought she was just exercising - losing weight naturally. She was very good at it. Very precise. I showed her how to make her hair blonder and her skin softer. And now she's beautiful. But, she was so interested in magic ever since. Levitating pencils and such, nothing too difficult. But it became... She would conjure things. Make things happen. She had a fight with Francis one day, and afterwards, Frannie's pet hamster spontaneously combusted. Russell and I told Frannie it was a freak accident, but I suspected the truth. Quinn had done it. She was starting to scare me, so I banned magic from the house, but she... She wouldn't listen. If I ever tried to stop her, she would do things. Conjure fires. Put little hexes on me that I could never prove was her doing..."

Judy stopped, clutching the pearl necklace around her neck.

"You're afraid of her?" asked Buffy.

"You don't understand. She's so powerful for her age."

Buffy sighed. "We need her spell book."


"We need to reverse the spells Quinn did. One of my friends is blind, and the other is mute, because of your daughter! She has to be stopped!"

Judy only smiled sadly and clutched her pearls. "She can't be stopped. Not by you."

"You want to bet?" said Buffy, as she stomped back out into the Fabray's hall and trotted upstairs.

"Please, you're not going to tell my husband, are you?" Judy asked, fearfully.

Mr. Schuester rolled his eyes in disgust and followed Buffy.


"Ready? Okay!"

The McKinley High Cheerios clasped their hands together in a strong clap and began their routine. Quinn Fabray ducked down with Brittany to catch hold of Morgan's feet and lift her up into the air. Just as she did, Quinn felt a strange sensation running through her body, and Morgan wobbled in her grasp.

"Steady, Fabray!" called Morgan.

"Quinn, are you okay?" asked Brittany, as Quinn squinted, her head buzzing.

Quinn gasped as she spied the ends of her blond ponytail rested on her shoulder, curling upwards and turning the colour of brown sugar. Quinn dropped Morgan's foot like hot coal, sending the girl falling to the floor, hard on her back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Morgan cried, getting up and clutching her head in pain.

"I... have to go..." said Quinn, hiding the end of her ponytail in her hand and rushing out of the gymnasium.


"What the hell are you doing?"

April Rhodes looked up from her little black book where she kept her 'just in case' Latin spells. A blond cheerleader had busted into the Will Schuester's little office, her eyes aglow with fury. A cinnamon brown colour was creeping up the girl's honey blond hair. The white from Rachel's eyes were dimming, and Buffy could see the outline of her brown irises appearing slowly, just like a sunken crease beginning to form on Tina's face.

"You must be Quinn," said April.

"Don't stop reading! It's working!" said Buffy, and April went back to reading Latin aloud from her notebook.

"Don't even think about it!" said Quinn, and as she shook her hands, fire balls erupted from them.

Finn gasped from behind Rachel's chair, and Will backed into Tina, pushing her out of the way. April continued to read nervously in front of Will's desk as Quinn held turning balls of fire in the palms of her hands, the natural brown of Quinn's hair growing and growing until it reached her roots, and Quinn stood there with frizzy auburn curls cascading down her back from the confinement of her scrunchie. This seemed to make her angry, because she threw a blast of fire at April.

"Hey, watch it, girl!" April said angrily, the fire touching the edge of her notebook which burnt at the tip and curled off. April started flicking through the pages, looking for a new spell. She started speaking in Latin again; a different verse, faster and angrier, and the fireballs in Quinn's hands dispelled immediately, much to Quinn's dismay and disbelief.

"What-?" she uttered as the fire disappeared, along with the tips of her fingers.

Finn and Rachel's eyes were full of shock and distress and their mouths hung open, watching the now brunette Quinn Fabray slowly disappear from her fingertips onwards.

"Stop!" shouted Quinn.

"Stop! You're killing her!" shouted Rachel, who looked terrified.

"Please!" pleaded Quinn, "I'm pregnant!"

As the others stopped to stare in disbelief, Buffy ran to April and smacked the book out of her hands.

"You can't kill her," said Buffy, turning to Quinn, "And not because we feel bad for you. We don't. You would've killed on of us in a heartbeat, I'm sure. But, I have morals. You're a human, not a monster, even if you act like one. And if you're telling the truth... if you're really pregnant... I'll let you go on one condition."

"What's that?" asked Quinn, frightened tears slipping down her face.

"Extensive therapy."


"Okay. So, just so that I have things clear, Buffy Summers never attacked you?"

Quinn's eyes bore into Ms. Pillsbury polished desk. The germaphobe probably scrubbed it every morning with a brand new toothbrush, she thought.

"Nope. Never happened," Quinn replied.

Today, she felt tired. Maybe it was for the best that Buffy and her freak friends had stopped her. It was getting extremely tiring to retain hold of her perfect image. Berry could have Finn. Who cares anymore, right? No matter how hard she tried, Quinn's reputation would be down the drain when she'd get kicked off of Cheerios and celibacy club for her big pregnant belly that would appear in a few months' time.

"And, in fact, you attacked Buffy? A-And Tina Cohen-Chang... and Rachel Berry."

Quinn closed her eyes. She could feel a headache coming on.

"Yes, I did. It was a heat of the moment sort of thing. Rachel Berry kissed my boyfriend- But that's not important."

"Well," sighed Ms. Pillsbury, her eye widening with alarm, "Thankfully the girls aren't pressing charges. They're not angry, Quinn, they're concerned."

Quinn smirked and sat back in her chair. Buffy and her geek minions weren't concerned. They just wanted to find a way to keep Quinn out of their hair. If they were really concerned, they would've stayed out of Quinn's way. Let her have her boyfriend back. A month ago, she was a gorgeous blond, with a quarterback boyfriend and a 3.9 GPA. But after Buffy Summers had come to town, everything went south. Finn had strayed - to Rachel Barbra Berry, nonetheless. An epic embarrassment. And now that Mr. Schuester's tiny, annoying girlfriend had reversed her spells and destroyed her spell book, she was stuck a mop of golden brown curls; the kind she had when she was in middle school. Now every morning she'd have to take a hair straighter to her frizzy brown hair, until it was sleek and smooth, in place in her ponytail. But being a brunette was the least of her problems.

"So, I think we should make time every day to talk. Just for an hour," said Ms. Pillsbury.

Quinn had blocked out most of what she'd said. "Sure. Whatever," Quinn replied, swinging her blue MaxMara purse over the crook of her elbow and walking out. She strutted down the school hallways, smiling inwardly as every few students took a double take and basked at her new hair colour. Minus the frizz, Quinn rocked the brunette look, and she knew she was going to miss the masses' adoration for her when she wasn't popular anymore. As she saw her tall boyfriend approaching in front of her, she thought for a moment that maybe he'd think her new hair colour was sexy. It was only a few shades lighter than Berry's. But then she remembered the secret she'd let slip yesterday...

"Can we talk?" Finn asked, the words barely slipping out of his tight lips.

Quinn frowned and nodded, leading her boyfriend into an empty classroom.

"So, are you really-?" said Finn as he closed the door behind them.


"Yeah," breathed Finn.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah. I am."

Scared out of her mind a week ago, Quinn had bought a pregnancy test and went to Taco Bell to use it, too scared to bring it home. It came out positive, but she convinced herself that sometimes these things were wrong. Maybe it was wrong. Please let it be wrong. But it made sense. All the symptoms were there. And she could feel it. As much as she wished she wasn't pregnant, she knew she was. She was just too scared to tell her parents. What would her father think?

"Is it... mine?" asked Finn, crestfallen.

Quinn's heart thumped against her chest. "Of course it is," she lied.

"But... we never..."

"Remember that time in the hot tub...?"

Quinn remembered a time a month or two ago, she and Finn had a make out session in her family's hot tub. It was the farthest she's ever gone with the boy. She never felt the need to get close to Finn, unless it was to keep him in her reach. But Finn had a problem with... arriving early. He ended up soiling the hot tub, and Quinn thought perhaps he was just dumb enough to think that that incident could get her pregnant.

"Oh my God," breathed Finn, stumbling backwards and leaning on the classroom chalkboard, "Are you gonna...?"

"No," said Quinn.

Adultery and sex before marriage was bad enough, but Quinn couldn't even bear the thought of getting rid of her baby.

"Look, we'll talk about this later. I need to clear my head. Don't tell anyone," said Quinn, slipping out of the classroom, leaving her burly boyfriend breathless.


That night, Buffy spotted someone walking through the uncut grass of the Lima cemetery, and she had to blink at it twice before she could register the face in her muddled mind.

"Santana," said Buffy, "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been keeping a low profile," said Santana, swinging a leather tote over her shoulder, "I was just taking a short cut."

Buffy eyed the short hem of Santana's purple floral print dress. She didn't seem to be cold in the chilly Ohio spring breeze.

"People at school seem to think you moved away," said Buffy, frowning coldly.

"Good," said Santana, brushing a lock of black hair back.

"You told me your parents were dead..."

"Well, I was lying, Buffy," Santana rolled her eyes, "I don't owe you an explanation for why I'm so strange and mysterious."

"Then what do you owe me? Because I let you stay at my house. I trust you for no reason. I told you I was the slayer, which is a really big thing to tell someone you don't know anything about!"

"You don't need to know anything about me! You shouldn't care. You don't know me."

"But I want to!" cried Buffy.

She was only realizing now how hard it was not seeing Santana for so long after she spent the night with her.

"Why would you want to do that?" asked Santana, shaking her head.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know. I just know you're someone I can trust, and that's hard to find. And I can tell that you understand, what it's like-"

"I don't. Don't assume anything about me, OK? It'd be better if we weren't friends. It would only mean trouble."

Buffy frowned. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"You were friends with Quinn Fabray."

"Yeah. So?"

"So. I found out that she's a witch."

"Yeah. I know..."

"Well, then why didn't you say anything?"

"Why would I? I'm not your personal messenger, Buffy. I'm not the little friend you get to keep from everyone else and tell all your darkest secrets. I have enough going on in my life without all the slayer's troubles."

Buffy frowned and folded her arms, turning her head away into the dark of the woods beside the cemetery. She'd wanted to see Santana again for so long, but now that she was here, it was all going wrong.

"Well, I didn't mean to be a burden," Buffy grumbled.

Santana sighed and shook her head. "You just don't get it, Buffy."

Buffy whipped around, gritting her teeth angrily. "What don't I get? You think that I'm going to have some big problem if I knew who you really were. I wouldn't! Because I do know who you are! I know that you're someone I can trust and someone I can laugh with, and I know that you care about me, because otherwise you wouldn't be trying to protect me so much. I knew that from the moment I met you, that you would always try to help me. Excuse me for wanting to get close to someone like that. Don't be so shocked and confused about me caring about you, when I know you care about me, too!"

"You remind me of someone," Santana said, softly.

Buffy opened her mouth and closed it again, taken aback. "So that's why? You want to protect me because I remind you of someone else?"

"Yes. No... I mean, you're a good person, Buffy. And you're valuable. I try to help you because you try to help everyone else. And... You remind me of a girl I fell in love with."

Buffy closed her mouth, surprised by Santana's answer. She had no idea Santana was in love with someone. A female someone. Buffy couldn't tell if she was feeling pride or jealousy.

"I'm leaving now, Buffy. That's me, protecting you," said Santana, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and walking off into the darkness.

Santana Lopez had no reason to feel bad. And yet she did. Buffy was the slayer. If there was anyone she had to keep her true identity from, it was her. But there was something about the slayer that was so trustworthy - so good - the she felt compelled to confide in her. She did remind her so much of Brittany. Buffy was a little more curious. A little more level-headed. A little more independent. A little more intelligent. But despite all that, Santana couldn't help but see Brittany every time Buffy whipped her wavy golden locks around. In fact, that night she'd harbored at Buffy's home, she'd thought that maybe Buffy could make a nice substitute. She had Brittany's looks and athletic skill. Her eyes lingered around Santana the way Brittany's did. It would be a nice way to be close to someone without hurting the one she truly loved. It never occurred to her that maybe if she got close to Buffy the way she was close to Brittany, she would be hurting someone she loved, anyways.

Oh, stop it, you don't love Buffy, Santana told herself. And she didn't. She only met the slayer a couple times. Love was out of the question. But that didn't mean the girl wasn't usually on her mind, and in her heart. There was something that bonded the two of them that Santana couldn't put her finger on. Something bold and dangerous and primal inside of them...

That reminded Santana of someone else.

"Quinn," Santana said into the night.

There she was, sitting back in the driver's seat of her father's black Mercedes. Santana barely recognized her if it weren't for the leafy green eyes that shone bright even at twilight and the snobby frown, with her chin held high. Quinn looked up as she heard her name called, and smirked when she spotted Santana approaching the outside of her car.

"Where have you been?" said Quinn, slamming the car door behind her as she exited in her white eyelet sundress and her brown Rag & Bone wedges.

Santana realized why she didn't recognize the girl. Partly because her hair was now a more natural looking light brown and partly because she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Quinn out of her Cheerios uniform.

"Out," replied Santana, excited to see someone from before she became a vampire, but suspicious as to why Quinn had suddenly decided to drop by.

Quinn eyed Santana's tote bag and smirked knowingly, as if she knew it was full of plastic packs of butcher's blood.

"Is it true? That you're..."

"A creature of the night? Uh huh. Thanks for asking," Santana said, coldly.

"This isn't my fault," Quinn frowned.

"Yeah, well, I still have my soul, no thanks to you."

"What was I supposed to do, Santana? I'm no Wiccan goddess. The most I can manage is spontaneous combustion and blinding my enemies."

Santana shook her head. She didn't want to fight with Quinn. Normally, she would be happy to, over just about any topic. But she needed a friend right now.

"Come in," said Santana, clutching her tote and leading Quinn down the walk way to her front door, "Spontaneous combustion, huh? Sounds cool."

Santana closed the door behind them as the girls entered the cold and quiet Lopez house.

"It is pretty cool," said Quinn, looking around the foyer before Santana could walk her to the kitchen and flip on the lights.

"And blinding? Who'd you do that to?" asked Santana, as she emptied the blood bags into the fridge.

"That hobbit, Rachel Berry," said Quinn, her smile faltering a little.

When April Rhodes had almost made Quinn vanish into oblivion, Rachel had cried out for her stop. Ever since then, making fun of Berry didn't feel quite right. It almost felt... mean. But that didn't mean she wouldn't do it.

"Berry?" said Santana, furrowing her brow as she leaned up against the fridge, "What'd she do to you?"

"She kissed Finn," Quinn said quietly.

"No way? Berry got game?"

Quinn cringed. "Berry most certainly does not have game! Finn is just... I mean, he's a teenage boy. They'll go anywhere they can get it, right?"

"I guess so," said Santana, clutching a blood bag in her hand and strutting to her father's liquor bar. Thankfully, one thing her parents forgot was their alcohol. Santana spent a lot of time making cocktails out of blood and vodka. She called it a Bloody Lopez.

"Want one?" asked Santana as she mixed her drink in a martini glass.

"No, thanks," said Quinn, waving her hand.

"Don't worry; I won't put blood in yours! I'll make you a lemontini, I remember you like those."

"No, Santana. I can't."

Santana frowned and put down her martini glass. "Well, why not? Are you finally taking this upstanding Christian citizen thing to heart, because let me be honest with you, that's really lame."

"No, Santana," said Quinn, looking down at her sterling silver 'Love Waits' purity ring, "I'm pregnant."

Santana almost spit out her Bloody Lopez. "Pregnant? With Finn's baby?"

Quinn avoided Santana's eyes and shook her head. "With Puck's."

Santana started to feel dizzy, and not because of the cocktail. She stumbled out from behind her father's minibar and took a seat beside Quinn at her marble island counter. "Whoa."

"I know," said Quinn, her head down as a lock of golden brown hair fell in front of her eyes.

"That's... Wow. Have you told anyone yet?"

"Just Buffy and the glee club freaks. So they wouldn't hurt me."

"Why would they hurt you?"

Quinn sighed shakily, holding in tears. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but all she wanted to do was sob nowadays.

"I did some bad stuff to Berry and her friends. They could've gotten hurt... It doesn't matter. I'm done now and the losers are keeping my secret. It's okay."

"It's not okay. If it were okay, your painted on Barbie eyes wouldn't be tearing up, would they?" said Santana, placing a hand on Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn looked up at her friend, happy that that's what she was; a friend. The two girls had had their differences in the past, but now it all seemed so petty and trivial.

"Finn thinks he's the father," said Quinn.

"Well, he's going to find out he's not, eventually."

Quinn shook her head. "No. He's not. He's the one person who's not going to know. Okay, I get it, at some point everyone at school is going to find out that I'm pregnant, and... so will my parents. But Finn never has to know he's not the father!"

"Quinn, you can't do that."

A tear slipped down Quinn's face. "I'm going to lose everything I worked for. I just want to keep him. Everyone's going to hate me. Can't he be the one person who still loves me?"

Santana frowned and wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder. "I still love you, LQ. You can bet that I'll still love you when you get all fat, too. Even if a lizard baby pops out in nine months' time, I'll still love you."

Quinn laughed under her tears. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Quinn rested her head on Santana's shoulder and sighed. "Puck. He's... There's something wrong with him. You know what I mean? He has a problem."

"A once-a-month furry problem? Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I started to think we should do something. He doesn't even know."

"It's only three nights a month. And what happened last month was a total freak accident. It's normally only animals and stuff that he hurts out in the cow fields, y'know? I don't think he has to know if he's not really hurting anyone. It's so rare to be normal nowadays. I think we can give him that."

"You don't think the baby-"

"No, I don't. That kind of thing is only transferable through bites. Your baby will be totally normal and probably gorgeous."

Quinn frowned. "I don't really have gorgeous DNA ..."

"Yes, you do. Hello, girl, look at that hair colour. That is sexy! Why did you ever cover that up?" smirked Santana.

Quinn snorted. "Uh huh. Do you think it'll be a witch, like me and my mom?"

"I do," said Santana, "You Fabray chicks got a lot of powerful mojo. That kind of thing doesn't just skip a generation."


Terri Delmonico pulled at the sleeve of her scalloped tunic. She was in the middle of a salmon bagel when an unknown force had summoned her right out of her seat. She'd probably scared the waitress, but she didn't really care now. As always, the cold, dank lair gave her shivers up her spine, and so did the demon lord who inhabited it. D'Hoffryn stood over her on a platform, wrapped in a brown burlap robe. He was a horned demon with a blue undertone to his pallid skin and a set of beady black eyes.

"Terrinka," the demon called with his low, booming voice, looking down at the nervous woman.

"It's just Terri," she corrected.

D'Hoffryn frowned at her. "Terri. I suppose you know why I've summoned you here."

"Uh, no. No, I don't. I was in the middle of a lunch so-"

"Your time as a vengeance demon has been abysmal, Terri. I did this as a favour for your cousin, but I'm starting to regret it. You haven't even chosen a specialty yet."

Terri frowned. "It's only been a year! And I'm pretty sure I'm working on my specialty being women scorned by men. I mean, that's a big demand, right?"

"Be that as it may, there are three strikes against you."

"Three strikes? For what?"

"One being your first wish against that ex-husband of yours."

"What? That was a perfect punishment for what Will did to me!"

D'Hoffryn rolled his eyes. "You gave him a permanent perm."

"What?! He used to have the dreamiest hair! Now he'll never get his Patrick Dempsey look back."

"It was an embarrassment, Terri. It hurt me just to give you the powers of a vengeance demon, but I did it for Phoebe."

Terri sulked. "Fine. What was my second strike?"

"The restoration of Santana Lopez's soul."

"I don't understand," said Terri, furrowing her brow, "That went perfectly."

"Not quite, I'm afraid. Did you forget you were a vengeance demon, and not a fairy godmother? You may not realize it yet, but what you did was a curse against Ms. Lopez."

Terri's mouth dropped open. "Th-That can't be right!" she stammered.

"Oh, it is, Ms. Delmonico. I gave you the powers of a vengeance demon. You wield the type of magic to inflict pain, not help the needy. When you gave Santana Lopez her soul again, a curse came attached with it."

"What curse?"

"The curse of eternal despair. If Santana were to ever experience true happiness, her soul would leave again, and she'd be the demon she was supposed to be."

"That can't be..." breathed Terri, staring at the floor.

"Oh, but it is. There better not be a third strike, Terrinka-"


"You have one more year to prove yourself with an outstanding display of otherwordly vengeance, or I will revoke your powers, like happiness will revoke Ms. Lopez's soul."
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