Advice from a friend

Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to Whedon and to Marvel-verse.

The time was night, the weather was raining, and when Buffy Summers saw that there was a man in a suit sitting at the Summers' family table, looking at her in an ominous way, she was not surprised one bit.

"Give me one good reason why you are here?" she said crossly, as she moved into a slightly defensive position between him and Dawn.

"I am with S.H.I.E.L.D.," Coulson replied with an apologetic look, albeit a weak one.

"And?"

"Miss Summers, is it true that you died?"

There was a lull and Buffy actually relaxed. "Sit," she told her sister, before pulling out a cartoon of ice cream from the fridge and joining them as well. "Is there a friend or is it personal?"

"Personal," Coulson nodded, completely serious now. "I've dead for days but have just remembered this – well, mostly how S.H.I.E.L.D. used machines to rebuild me from scratch."

"Only days? Peanuts," Dawn spoke before Buffy could. "Buffy was dead for months. Willow rebuilt her with magic...I don't even know how she did it..."

"No, I am reasonably sure that magic wasn't involved – S.H.I.E.L.D. generally doesn't trust it, we leave it to the likes of Dr. Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme," Coulson shook his head.

"You have an agreement with us-"

"Honestly? It's more like a peaceful coexistence, just ask Dr. Giles," Coulson confessed. "After WWII a renegade Watcher used several bastardized alien helmets – we can't even be sure that they are Tauri – to brainwash people into being his minions slash assassins. That did not go well with anyone involved."

"How can you brainwash a person using a helmet?" Buffy could not help but ask.

"I have no idea; the reports are not just classified, but blurry," Coulson shrugged, "and as I said, the idea failed, as most of your renegade's victims recovered just in time to save the day...right. I think we steered off the topic a bit?"

"Good point," Buffy nodded, turning more serious and shushing Dawn. "Ok, here's my side of the story. When I returned, I was a mess. My friends were a mess. Willow actually almost ended the world – almost." She paused. "Admittedly, they became a mess after I died and in part they may have thought that bringing me back would solve everything... right. The thing is that their goals were even if everything else of theirs was not...and that you should need therapy now that you realized the truth. I know that I did."

"And I am happy to provide it!" Dawn added brightly, pulling out a pair of glasses onto her nose. "Believe it!"

"Do you do Skype™?" Coulson asked, quite seriously.

"Sure do!"

"Hey! Who will be footing the Internet bill?" Buffy interrupted.

"Me. Or, rather, S.H.I.E.L.D." Coulson said quietly, but firmly.

"Ah. OK then," Buffy backed down, sensing the agent's intent. "Sorry about this. Blonde moment. Anyways, agent Coulson, welcome aboard to our therapy sessions, we will contact you with your first appointment ASAP."

"But?" Coulson asked, sensing it.

"Your people have called – and by them I mean your immediate team. They have finally noticed your absence and are about to start the manhunt for you once more-"

"Right. Get me Skype™ - I mean them, and by them I am guessing you mean May or Skye," Coulson sighed. "The Centipede may be gone, but there are dark times still ahead."

End