Chapter 2
Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty place - Oh God, it's come to this. Quoting Shakespeare fergawdsake. I am so endlessly bored.
When I first got here, Mrs. Harris could hardly wait to show me my room. Hanging on the walls of this - enclosure - was a piece of embroidery, framed. The words
on it said "Sugar 'n Spice 'n Everything Nice" and in one corner a little girl in a bonnet peeped coyly out at me. Excuse me while I gag. Ma Harris spent the next half
hour telling me how she had spotted this kit at a yard sale and all you had to do was pick out some nice coloured yarn and do the needlework and then fit it into the
frame and she just had to have it even though she didn't have a girl and then next day didn't she find out she was getting a girl and isn't that always the way because
you just never know...blah, blah and blah. That's the way she talks.
When she finally went out, I turned it to the wall.
I get up in the morning to Ma's (that's what she wants me to call her) constant conversation interspersed with the radio news, weather, and sports. Under all this is
a friend of the family's, Willow, quietly sitting at the table and giving me little curious looks, and Xander, that sweet but insecure dork I was talking about. They both
seem to be about my age and 'Ma' was gleefully telling us that we would all be starting school together in the same grade, isn't that nice?
Xander has waffled down his pancakes and is looking at me curiously.
"Fighting to be the new Kate Moss?"
I blink a little. "Um...what?"
"Kate Moss? Really skinny model? You just...haven't...eaten...man, I'm going down..."
"Uh," Willow pipes up, "He's just concerned because you've hardly touched your pancakes."
"It's hard for me to eat in the morning," I reply, picking up my fork and lightly poking at her food.
Pancakes! I can't believe the food around here. How about a good L.A breakfast? Lightly toasted bagel and a protein shake. If I keep eating like this family I could
just squash vampires with my enormous weight. Ma's life is centered around gorging everyone she knows with high fat, grease infested food. She doesn't eat much
herself. Doesn't stop talking long enough. She's not in any danger of fading away, however. She's short but hefty. A little square woman.
And then there's Mr. Harris. Nick. Not much to say about Nick. A big guy. Looks like he could pick up one corner of the house and set it down again without
straining his back. His face must be permanently tanned. It looks a bit like a wood carving with all the lines and creases he has.
This morning Ma looked up from the frying pan when Nick came into the kitchen and started in: "Now, you just get yourself sitting down at that table I'm sure the
boss won't be mad if you're little late you practically run the whole place yourself anyway no sense of doing all that work without a bit of breakfast you could
starve to death and never keel over until somebody told you you were stone cold do you want ketchup mixed up in your eggs or just on top remember to ask
about that promotion."
"Yeah," Nick said.
Nick, it seems, is a man of little words. More like little syllables. Ma mixed ketchup in with his scrambled eggs and then dumped more on top.
***
School is a welcome relief. I'm being sarcastic by the way. I thought being new would be like being invisible. Let me tell you it isn't. News travels fast in a small town
like this. The first day, everyone was looking at me. Perfect strangers were asking me about what it was like to live in L.A. Well, I'm intending to be inscrutable.
I just wish I didn't have to go by school bus. The first day I went, Xander looked as if he was going to sit down beside me, so I quickly plunked my shoulder bag
onto the seat and said, "It's taken." I know it was mean, but Dick told me not to get attached, remember? He moved on and sat beside Willow, looking like a
wounded puppy. About three stops later, the bus was filling up and across the street I saw a bright red convertible stop beside us. There was a girl inside. Tall,
pretty with long, dark hair. Loud rock music was blaring out of her stereo. She glanced at the bus window and saw me looking at her. She looked back at me and
raised her eyebrows, looking at me like was some kind of gross algae attached to a rock. Then she gave me a little wave goodbye and drove on. Bitch. She only
wears designer clothes. She's in my grade, too. We're in History together.
I fell prey to her pretty easily. Especially since I'm an 'orphan', as she so tastefully puts it. If it was the truth, I'd be pretty offended. And living at Xander's house
apparently doesn't give me any popularity points. She actually kind of reminds me of what I was like at my old school. I guess that what's you call poetic justice.
Saturdays are deadly. It's the beginning of September. The rainstorms are not as bad as they used to be before school, but it still occasionally sprinkles. I took
Xander's excuse for a bicycle, a relic of the fifties, complete with a wooden crate fastened above the back wheel, to ride to the high school to have a Slayer
meeting with Dick and this new guy, Giles, who works at the library. I've avoided that place like the plague so I didn't have to talk to him but I guess I could only
do that for so long. This Giles is an expert on books, Dick tells me. Apparently I'm gonna be reading them. It's hard for me to believe that Sunnydale is such a
hotspot for baddies, I mean, I've been patrolling for the last two weeks and sure, I've staked a lot more vampires that I'm used to but nothing so crazy and evil
that could make it worse than L.A.
I have to watch out for Xander and Willow, though. I don't mind them. They're probably the only decent people in this whole town, but they watch out for me all
the time. Willow is always over, she's practically part of the family. And Xander doesn't like to see me going anywhere without him. Unfortunately, he saw me take
the bike out, and before I could even get the thing out of the driveway, he was chasing after me. At the road I hopped on and started pedalling fast.
"Hey! Wait up! Buffy! Wait up!"
I looked back and saw Xander jogging after me, his denim jacket open to the wind. I pedaled down on the road until I got to the 4 way stop, blocking out the sound
of his voice by concentrating on the cement ahead of me. He ran after me for a bit but must have stopped when he realized I wasn't going to. When I paused at the
stop sign, I heard him say, "I'm not going to hurt you or anything, I just wanted to...talk to you."
I didn't want to look back, but that feeling of drowning was coming over me. I had to make sure I could still breathe, so I glanced over my shoulder. Xander stood
there in the middle of the road with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smiled a little and raised his hand. At first I thought he was going to give me the finger,
but he just waved. "Wherever you're going, I...uh...hope you have...uh...fun. Does that sound....guh...nice and placating?"
I found myself talking, which is strange, considering it's me. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'm just going to take another tour of the town. You don't happen to have a Starbucks,
do you?"
Xander was walking towards me. "Uh, no. Sunnydale is about the only town in America that doesn't. Just shows you what an neverending shower of delight this
fair town is. Oh, but there's a cafe just about two blocks away...I could, I don't know, buy you a coffee and then I could show you the seedy underbelly of this
Norman Rockwell painting of a life."
I smiled. I couldn't help it. Sweet, but insecure. "Ummm...that's nice. But I think, I think I would rather go alone, if you don't mind."
"Oh, uh, no, I don't mind. I have things to do anyway. I still have to defeat the boss in the Spirit Temple and did I just say that because I really meant work out at the
gym and not Zelda which you probably don't even know about and I'm going to stop talking...now."
"Okay. Um, I'll see you at dinner?"
"Yeah, sure. Spaghetti night. Your favorite," Xander stopped and looked at my taken aback face. "Um, not that I noticed that."
"I better go," I said.
"See ya later," Xander said.
I turned back onto to face the road and turned up my collar of my jacket against my neck, which was beginning to feel a little cold in the wind, and took off. I don't
mind that kid. Why shouldn't I? He's given me no reason to hate him, I can't see why I can't be nice to him without Dick breathing down my neck. He's just one
more kid that I'm putting into danger by conversing with because I'm the Slayer. God, it's so frustrating and stupid. Dick doesn't want me putting anyone under risk
but as long as I'm in that house, they technically would be in danger. But I haven't upsetted any vampires yet. I kill them before they can tell their friends.
I flipped Xander out of my mind and pedaled faster, even though the wind was starting to pick up and get cold. Isn't this California, for Christ's sake?
When I got to the high school, I propped Xander's bike against the peeling paint. I entered the school and wandered down the hall until I reached the library. With a
sigh, I opened the door. I never liked libraries. This one was pretty big for a school library. Empty, though. I at least thought that Giles guy would be here already.
I wandered over to the table, which had a large, leatherbound book on it. Old, and I mean like, Shakespeare old. It was open to a picture of an open tunnel in the
ground, flames and all manner of ugly demons poking their heads out and crawling out of the hole. I've never seen demons before and they sure look cringeworthy.
"Ms. Summers, I presume?"
I turned around with a shock. This tall guy in a tweed suit had snuck up on me. That doesn't happen often. Maybe I do have to train more.
"Uh, hi. Are you Rupert Giles?"
"Yes. Um, Mr. Riehle just stepped out for a moment but he will be back soon. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Um, sure, okay. Sugar, please."
He gave me a nervous smile and stepped back into his office. I gotta say, he really wasn't what I expected. Just really British. The most British guy I've ever met. I sat
down at the table and from my viewpoint I watched him step into his office and pour some tea into a mug. He ripped up some sugar packets and put them in. He
came back out and handed me the cup. He saw the book on the table and nodded.
"I've been living here for the last 6 weeks researching the background of this city," he started, sitting down. "Uh, I haven't seen you around school, Mr. Riehle told me
you've been living with the, uh, Harris family for about two weeks now."
"Uh, yeah. I...just I didn't-" I started. Oh man, I really didn't want two Watchers giving me lectures.
"It's all right," Giles interrupted gently, "I understand that you may not be incredibly enthused to be putting your life into peril. I-"
"Rupert!"
We both turned and Dick came striding in. "I see Buffy is here. Perhaps a little late. You have already introduced yourselves?"
"Uh, yes, we have," Giles replied.
"There were three vampire attacks last night," Dick started in, as tactful as always, "Where were you last night, Buffy?"
"I patrolled," I started, caught off guard by the sudden attack, "I was out for about two hours last night."
"Um, perhaps we can start with the meeting," Giles started before Dick could continue, "I have much to discuss with you both as to the relationship to Sunnydale and
to demon activity."
Dick nodded and sat down.
"All right," Giles started, "From the research I've been going through, I've found evidence that this town is actually built on top of a...well, a Hellmouth."
"My God," Dick said, "A Hellmouth. That's worse than just an ordinary portal. Is it in danger of opening?"
"Oh, I don't know. But because of its mystical hold, it remains a powerful place for demons to live and breed. I've been reading up," he said, nodding to the book
on the table, "and I believe that there is a danger, however, of certain demons that would want to open the Hellmouth to unleash Armageddon."
"Buffy," Dick said, turning to me, "We are going to have to increase your training. Every day after school you will come and train with me. We will also try to make
room for training with Rupert, here, both for reading and studying as well as other more...intellectual practice."
"What is that supposed to mean, Dick?" I said.
"I don't have the patience for any flippant remarks, Buffy," Dick told me, "This is far more serious than you realize. Tonight you and I will patrol. Those vampire
attacks happened very close to the edge of town. Apparently, there is a popular teen club called the Bronze that is just a breeding ground for vampire activity. They
seduce their victims and usually bring them to the cemetery nearby or the bus depot. Those could very well be where their nest is. We have to find it and expel them
out."
"You mean I have to find it and 'expel' them out. Doesn't this sound like fun."
Giles silently sipped at his tea and gently closed his book and put it on a pile beside him. Man, this library must be his home away from home. "Just be careful," he
said to me, "The vampires here are quite vicious. I've already put myself in more danger than I should have. Perhaps, if I could be so bold, simply finding the possible
whereabouts of these vampires' nest would be sufficient."
Dick was about to say something, but stopped and nodded. "That sounds good, Rupert. Well, Buffy, I think we could start some training while you're here. We
haven't done much work with the quarterstaff yet." Dick got up and went to the bookcage by the table.
"Well," Rupert said, getting up, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Buffy. Please feel free to stop in the library anytime you like. If you have any inquiries or the like."
He offered me his hand and I took it. He smiled at me and I gave him a little smile. Just a little one. He's a least a hell of a lot nicer than Dick.
***
So, I went to the cemetery. It's a nice, depressing place. Reminds me of the good ol' days. Unfortunately it wasn't long before I found someone. And not the
someone I was expecting to find.
"Xander!" I exclaimed.
"Uh, hi!" Xander said somewhat sheepishly. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Were you following me?"
"Uh....no....well, sort of, yes," Xander put his hands in his pockets, "It's just...I saw you leave after supper and I was wondering where you were going and I-"
"I thought they kept you on a short leash at home." I said it fast and low to avoid sounding like a strangled crow. Xander had been confined to the Harris property for
about two weeks for some crime he committed. I don't pay attention to what goes on in that place, so I don't know what it was. Skipping classes and not doing his
homework. Something like that. Pity Willow hadn't found him and stopped him from following me.
"Oh, great leash! Just the old lady forgot to tie the other end to my bed."
All of a sudden I heard something behind me. I knew exactly what it was. It's like my Spider Sense, I can always tell when they're around. I turned. There was a
vampire, a girl, blond with a really gross Catholic schoolgirl outfit. And she was staring right at me with a twinkle in her eye. I heard Xander's words
lapse as he saw the demon face. Great...I thought I was gonna have to make a really stupid excuse to explain this.
The girl gave me a smile and then from behind a tombstone grabbed something. She held the dying body of a teenage boy, maybe 19 or 20. I didn't know why I
couldn't move. I just watched her toss back the rest of the poor guy as if she were imitating whiskey-drinking gangsters in B-grade movies. Her twinkle hardened
into a leer as she dragged her arm across her mouth. I gave her what I consider my hardbroiled, prepare-to-bite-dust look, ran toward her, and roundkicked
her in the stomach. She flew about 10 feet backwards into a headstone. I stood by the body of the boy, trying not to look at his empty, staring eyes.
"Buffy!" Xander ran up to me and grabbed my arm, "What are you doing? Let's go get the police!"
The vampire was getting up. I apparently must have caught her by surprise but she was recovering. I pushed Xander back then turned to face him.
"You go get the police! I'll keep her here."
"What!?" Xander replied, "It-She'll kill you!"
"So..." the vampire slowly sidled towards us, "You're the one everyone's been talking about. You're the Slayer. It's a pleasure."
I've only been in Sunnydale for a few weeks, but I know this vampire type. Dangerous, but doesn't like to kill right away. Before she makes her number one kill,
she wants to be number one in your nightmares. Vampires like these usually have dumb henchman friends. I've run across a few vampires like her over the last
couple months. Remorseless. Shed their crimes like a skin and slink back smoother than ever. I like to call them 'problem vampires'. Dick goes on about
vampires like that too, but he uses different words like dysfunctional and malajusted. I always think he's talking about machinery.
"Look!" Xander nervously said, "We're not...Slayers. I'm not even in a gang."
This was just great. This vampire was talking way too much. I had to bring her down. I slowly backed up, reaching a hand out in front of Xander. The vampire
followed us slowly at a walking pace to a more open area of the cemetery. She drew her hands across the top of the headstones like she owned the place. The
problem with vampires are they think the world is spread out just for them to spoil.
"The Master will be pleased. When he rises, he'll be looking for someone worth killing," the vampire continued.
Master? What the hell was that about? I gotta say, she was starting to seriously freak me out. Every vampire I've known doesn't wait around this long. This was
beyond arrogance. She looked as if she were an old vampire. I was getting a bit nervous. So, what did I do? I decided to be my normal cuddly self. To late now
to shield poor Xander.
"You know?" I said, stepping up to her. "I am so sick of you creeps. You run around this town like cockroaches. And it's starting to get a little bit annoying." With
that, I gave her a good punch in the face, a kick to the stomach and an added shove that sended her to the ground. I pulled out my stake from my coat pocket.
"Hehehehe..." the vampire said, curling on the ground. "We've been watching you. We've known you were coming here before you knew. All these vampires you've
slain...all died for the love of the Master, who will rise and bring you to eternal flames." She got up onto her feet and stood inches from my face. "I'd watch out if I
were you."
"And the stink!" I said, backing off and plugging my nose. "Girl, haven't you heard of Secret?" I gave her a couple kicks, but she managed to work me over. I
stumbled back while she slunk back a couple feet recovering from the bleeding nose I gave her.
"Xander, get out now!" I yelled to him. Poor Xander was standing there with a shocked look on his face.
"I'm not going without you, Buffy!" Xander said, running up to me and grabbing me. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I want us out of here. Now!"
I turned toward him, hoping for the love of God that he would just run away. But he was so goddamn determined looking. He's a lot braver than I thought he was.
Xander didn't wait for me to answer and started pulling me away, while the vampire smiled, clicking her nails on a headstone. Damn, this girl was a lot tougher than
I thought. I let him lead me a bit of the way, not really interested in fighting anymore. "The police is just a couple blocks from the cemetery," Xander was saying.
"Where are you going?" the vampire was calling out behind me, "I was just getting warmed up!"
Xander and I ran until we reached the gate of the cemetery. We kept on going until we were on the street and then we stopped. I was tired, I had bruises. In my
head all I could think about was that trip in the car when Dick told me I wasn't prepared. If that girl vampire could best me in a fight, what chance did I have?
Xander stoppped and put his hands on his knees, recovering his breath. He unbuttoned his coat and looked around the street to see if she was around. Then he
looked at me with surprise, fear and something else on his face. Was it revulsion? I didn't know. We just stared at each other, catching our breath.
"W-what the hell was that, Buffy?" Xander asked me. "What's a Slayer?"
"Hey!"
We turned around was wasn't it just my luck. Willow stood there, looking at us with a confused expression on her face. "Where have you guys been? Xander, you're
mom's worried. You're in enough trouble as it is. What's going on?...and...what's a Slayer?"
"Umm..." I said. I was stuck. I'd broken the cardinal rule. What the hell could I do? "Let's get back to the house. I'll tell you then. It's not safe out here."
"You're right."
We turned. There she was. The girl vampire had followed us.
"You ran away so quickly I couldn't introduce myself," she said coyly, "My name's Darla. These are my friends." Three vampires emerged from the shadows behind
her. "And now we're going to kill you."
The four vampires stood and leered at us and they were all giving me the once-over.
Suddenly, two vampires shot out and pushed Xander to the floor. One vampire ran towards me and I grabbed his arm and wrapped it behind his back, staking
him from the back into his heart. He collapsed into dust. Then I scissorkicked the one of the vampires bent over Xander, gave him a good punch in the head and
staked him. I heard Willow yell and I turned around. The other vampire held Willow's neck in a vice-like grip. He was about to go in for the kill when I kicked
him and pulled my stake into his heart.
"Buffy!" Xander called out. "Behind you!"
I knew she was behind me. I didn't have time to turn. So I didn't. As Darla ran towards me, I sidestepped and shot out my hand, and like a vise, I had Darla by the
back of her scrawny neck. I squeezed, hoping to break her neck, but she flew her back leg out and I fell forward onto the pavement. Then she disapeared. I must
have done something bad to her becasuse I could hear her limping away.
I could feel eyes watching me then. I looked up. Xander's (he knew instantly what had happened) and Willow's (she didn't).
"What was that?" Willow asked, panic threatening her voice. "What was wrong with their faces? What's going on? Are...are they dead? But-"
"We have to go to the police," Xander said with a shaky voice.
"No!" I said, recovering my breath. Here goes. "Those...those weren't people. They're vampires. And I'm not in a gang. I'm a Vampire Slayer."
Willow and Xander just stared at me.
"Huh?"
***
Well, that was one long, awkward and difficult conversation. I told them as much as I could without giving away everything, but I already know I'm in deep shit with
Dick for this. But I couldn't help it, could I? They seem to taking it well....I guess, I know they don't think I'm crazy, which is good. But I think they're still torn
between calling the police or never leaving their room for the rest of their lives. Oh God, how am I gonna handle this one. And the night wasn't even over yet. Let me
explain.
After getting home and talking to Xander and Willow, I went to my room. I nursed my wounds, which weren't too bad. No brusies on my face, but one big one
below my ribcage. Not too bad. Anyway, I couldn't just stay in my room. Maybe I was afraid that Dick would pay a visit to see how my slaying went or Xander
and Willow would want more explanations. I just couldn't deal with that. So I left. I decided to go somewhere no one would think to find me and that I could stay
away from potential vampire trouble.
I went to the Ee-lite Cafe. Trouble still managed to find me. I walked in and sat down at the counter and ordered a coffee. The frizzy haired waitress I saw the first
time I went in was still there chatting with the customers. She gave me a smile and poured me coffee.
"Cream and Sugar?" she asked me.
"No, thanks." I answered, holding the cup in my hands.
"Call me Fran," she said, pointing to her name tag, "If you need anything else, just holler." She moved back to her conversation with the regulars. I even recognized
them from when I came into town. Maybe they all live together. I certainly didn't care, I just sipped my coffee and wallowed in my own happy misery for a while.
It didn't last long.
"You know," a large woman at the counter was saying to Fran, "Is that woman looking for her kid staying at the Bellington?"
My ears perked up immediately. I hoped to God it didn't mean what I thought it was.
"Yeah," Fran answered, "At least that's the place I told her to go. Poor lady though, she certainly didn't talk much. I haven't seen a woman so tired in my life. Well,
that bed-and-breakfast is nice, I hope she can at least relax."
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to figure this out. "Umm...excuse me...Fran?" I said, piping up, "Um...there's a bed-and-breakfast in town?" I was halfway down the
counter so I had to speak out over the conversation. They both turned to me and I already regretted opening my big mouth. I was wringing my napkins in my hands
underneath the counter.
"Oh yeah, hon," Fran answered, leaning on the counter, "A great one. A great place to wind down."
"Uh..." I said, trying to steer the topic towards the lady without making anyone suspicious, "Did that...lady say where she was going?" The whole restaurant was
looking at me now. Good work, Buffy, you get a gold star for subtlety.
"Not really," Fran answered, looking at me a bit closely, "After she asked me where to stay, she asked me to phone a taxi to get here there so I'm assumin' that's
where she is. She didn't say much other than that."
I should have just shut up. They were staring at me enough already. "Umm...where is the Bellington?"
"The Bellington is only across the road and along just outside of town. Not really worth the taxi coming all the way out. Why are you askin' hon, do you know this
lady?"
"Uh..." I was just about to try to come up with a good answer, when the bell on the door rang and someone came in. I turned and I have to admit, all conversation
lapsed in the room. A tall, dark man in a black trenchcoat walked in, blinking a bit in the bright light. Man, this guy is gorgeous, I have to tell you. And he looked
straight at me and I mean, really looked at me before heading towards the counter. He sat on the stool right beside me.
"Would you like anything, sir?" Fran asked, with some honey to her voice. "A coffee?"
"No thanks."
"Doughnut?"
"Nothing."
Fran shrugged, "Well, when you do want something, just call." She walked away and the general buzz of conversation started up again. I was alone with the strange
gorgeous guy. My mug sat empty on the counter. I watched Fran check the packages she got from the buses, tear off bits of paper, and add a hasty scrawl to a
ledger.
"Are you Buffy Summers?" the man asked.
I stared at him. There was something off about this guy.
"Yes," I said in my most ambivalent tone I could manage.
"I know who you are," he said to me. He started nodding his head at me, examining me, his mouth grim, his eyes studious slits, "You are defenitely not what I
expected. You look more like a cheerleader with that hair of yours-" He nodded to my pinned back blonde hair, and seconds before I leapt over the stool to choke
the living breath out of him, he added, "But you're sure as hell stronger than any Slayer I've seen." Then he gave me a small smile that lit up his eyes. I turned away.
Who the hell was this guy? I looked back at him and his eyes, round, expressionless, met mine.
Quickly, I started zipping up my jacket. I turned up the collar and a put couple dollar bills on the counter. "You're right," the man said, "It's probably better that we
discuss this outside."
"Huh?"
"Well, unless you want to talk here."
"I don't even know you." I had reached the door and he was right there beside me.
All the coffee drinkers were staring at me now. The Ee-lite Cafe was giving daytime TV considerable competition. This guy who had so arrogantly showed up opened
up the door for me, smiling like he was some kind of gentleman. The audience deserted me briefly for him, but came back. The stranger said, "Let's take a walk.
Get to know each other."
I started a slow seethe and began to plan this jerk's dismemberment. "Fine." Hello, sucker.
"After you."
I walked out, readying myself for a battle. I mean, I didn't even know if this guy was a good guy or not. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and kept on walked
out onto the street. I could hear the ringing of the bell as the door shut behind me and the stranger reached me and started walking beside me. He looked over at me,
sizing me up, I guess. He smiled. In a very annoyingly sexy way.
Smiling is not one of the things I do well. I looked away and concentrated on the street ahead of me.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, still looking at the road.
The man said, "That's not important. But don't worry, I'm not what you think I am."
"Hmm..." I said, "Why do I still feel like kicking your ass, anyway?" I stopped and faced him. "Look, I don't have a sense of humour, so stop playing these mind
games and tell me what you want."
"I'm fighting the same battle you are."
"Oh, so you're a Slayer, too? Are you the beefy testosterone version? Give me some straight answers."
"You don't understand. Sunnydale is much more dangerous than you imagine. The vampires you fought tonight prove that."
I felt ice go down my back. "Have you been following me?"
He smiled. "Darla, the vampire you fought, is one of the servants of the Master. There's more like her. They knew you were coming here. Just like I did. And
they will stop at nothing to kill you before the Master rises. You're lucky you were strong enough to get away from her. You still have time before the Master
rises. When he does, he will begin the Harvest."
He smiled, handed me a box, and left as quickly as he had arrived. He disapeared into the shadows with no trace that he had even been in the street. I stared at the
box, but decided to wait to open it. I shoved it into my coat pocket and hurried down the street. I didn't know what to think of that guy. Who was this Master?
And the what the hell was the Harvest? God, that man was frustrating. I got that Cryptic Guy pinned. Asshole with a capital A.
The change in atmosphere was a shocker after the warmth of the cafe. Outside, the drab sky hung over dark, shallow puddles pooled around the edges and potholes
of the street. I took in a breath and took out the box. I was far too curious to wait. It looked like a jewelry case and when I opened it, it was a simple silver cross
on a chain.
Who the hell was this guy?
I put the box back into my pocket and continued back down the street, eyeing the darkness of alleyways for a dark figure.
***
"Took you long enough," she said when I came in, the tips of my ears red from walking in the September wind. Ma seems to be short on pleasantries but long on
words. She was trotting between fridge and counter, counter and kitchen table, laying out the dishes for a late snack/meal. The counter is, in fact, only a vinyl
covered board she places over the dish washer and washing machine, lined up beside each other, when they're not in use.
What Ma does by time of passing the day away is communicate every thought that flits through her head. "Eat some of the baloney for a snack before bed for I'm
not putting it back in the fridge another day 'cause it should've got eat up yesterday but nobody took any notice and I'm not throwing it out sure there's starving
children all over the world'd give their right arm for a thick slab o' that but save enough for Nick when he comes in and if there's any of it left we'll give it to Xander
'cause it's waste not want not I always say and a body has to keep up his strength or they'll fall down in a dead faint which is what'll happen to Nick if he don't get
on in here out of that blistering wind and him getting so short of breath half the time you'd think he'd be glad of the chance to. Oh. A letter from your social worker.
came for you."
Dick, the social worker. There can't be much going on in his life. This is the second time he's given me one of these.
Outside you could hear Nick, my so-called foster father, hammering at the back, where he was putting on an addition to the little brick box they call a house. It
reminds me of a house in a cartoon. When we're all inside I imagine the walls moving in and out like lungs, and when Xander runs around hollering at his dad, I
expect the roof to come down.
The day I arrived, Nick had explained, "Want to open her up a bit. Let some air in."
And not before it's time, I'd thought.
"Doin' it all myself."
Wow. Alert the media. Dutifully, I'd looked at the framework of beads and studs he'd put up and said, "Who cares?" I don't expect he heard me.
I hung up my coat and sat at the table, put the unopened letter in front of me, and slid my boots off my feet. I buttered a piece of bread, letting Ma Harris's words
wash over me. I'm pretty quiet these days anyway. I figure if you don't have anything to say, don't open your big mouth. But even if I had a burning passion for long
heart-to-hearts, I'd be out of luck. You can't get a word in edgewise living with Ma Harris. I bet I haven't said more than three dozen words since I got here. It
doesn't bother me. I mean, I think things; I just don't always blurt them out. The danger with keeping all your thoughts to yourself is that they tend to disapear, like
everything else in my life. I guess that's why I keep filing them away in this machine. Nobody can see them except me. They never get out into the world because I
don't have a printer. Just me and the machine. I have this feeling that my computer is safe to hold even my unborn thoughts. I can also laugh into this thing, laught at
myself and laugh at my colourless, odourless, soundless, nonexistent life. With a computer you don't need a voice.
Anyway, I was still sitting at the table and Ma was still nattering away. "I never saw the beat of you, like talking to a brick wall sure you could be deaf as a post like
the young lad we had here Jamie his name was and as nice a lad as ever stood in the sun and oh I used to talk to him and not like some who think that no hearing
means no brains and he understood every word I..." That is a random sample of how she goes on.
I stopped listening to her and started reading Dick's letter. It was long, about four pages, both sides. His writing is all slanted to the right, as if he's in a rush to tell you
something and can't get it down fast enough. In the letter he said he would write to me because it would be too suspicious to show up all the time at the house with
16th century books for me to read. Fair enough. Basically, he had written a lot of information about the background of Sunnydale, the nature of Hellmouths, etc. He
also wrote down a new training schedule that I would be going through. He asked if I was happy with it. He said in the letter that I should feel free to send him letters
as well to bring down suspicion. So I did. In the middle of a piece of paper I dropped: "Dear Dick, Define happy. Yours with undying respect, Buffy Summers."
On the last page of the letter he said: "I have discussed it with the Council about the situation regarding your mother. This is a potential risk to her safety if she should
find you or if she should know your identity. I am aware that this is a sensitive situation for you. There are proper channels through the Council to create documents
and so forth to lead her on a different track towards finding you. The Council can even plant a story in the newspaper to even suggest that you are missing or dead. I
know that your mother is very capable and determined woman. Why don't you tell me how you feel about this situation and what you may want to do. You have
been uncommunicative in the past when I have asked about your family situation. Either you are afraid, shy or stubborn but the time has come to address this
problem. Just let me know how you feel and we will try to make a fair and agreeable solution."
Good old Dick. On the right track, but just one step behind. He doesn't know about the book. I made a discovery in my assigned research at Dick's old apartment
one lonely weekend back in the bad old days in L.A. In an old Watcher's diary I was assigned to read it made a reference to a historical biography of the Slayers.
It wasn't in my homework but I looked for the book anyway. Dick had stepped out for a moment and I looked all over for it until I saw it in a drawer I hadn't found
before. What was in this drawer was stuff he didn't want me to read. I found the book, sat down and started reading. There I began to read the short, violent lives
these girls had lived. One girl was buried alive by a gang of vampires. One was found, killed and dissected by demons. Another was eaten alive from the inside out
by worms. The longest a Slayer had ever lived was 3 years. Those girls, their deaths and that number are seared into my memory like a brand.
Here is the reason I refuse to be a Slayer. My calling was the black event that placed me here, in this life, on this road to nowhere. Oh sure, there have been ups and
downs and twists and turns, but I can barely remember what my life was like before I became this. I've been through so much that there's nothing else for me to
remember. Since May, my old life was taken from me and now I'm doomed to a death sentence to save people who don't even know or care about me.
At the moment, the end of the road leads into a patch of dense gray fog. If I can get through it to sixteen, if I can get far enough along to get a part-time job so I can
start heading up north, everything will be pure white, bright and light.
I tore out that page of the book because it seemed to be a warning - Danger! Thin ice! I don't want to fall through into that black hole. I don't want to die. In art class
at school I made a black envelope shaped like a twisted, shredded heart and in paint the colour of blood I wrote on it "NEVER". I stuffed the page into the heart
envelope and buried the thing in a drawer.
Sitting at Ma Harris's kitchen table, I folded Dick's letter up small, got up, and crammed it into the pocket of my coat. Next time I see Dick I'll say, "Tell the Council
to stay the hell out of it. She's my mother. I'll deal with it." I will never tell him about the page in the bottom of my drawer.
I went back to the table and started putting some of Ma's goddman awful bologna on the slice of buttered, not-bad homemade bread, slathering on some mustard,
and folding the bread over, when Xander came down the stairs.
"Hey, Buffy," Xander said quietly, sitting at the table. "How's it goin'?"
He looked tired. I was about to feel sorry for him but then I stopped myself.
"I'm good," I answered back. I took a bite out of my sandwich.
"Did you go out?" Xander asked. He rubbed his eyes. They were red and bloodshot. Either he couldn't sleep or he had been crying.
"Yeah, I just went out for some coffee...How's Willow?"
"Okay, I guess. I walked her home."
"Here, have this, you little blister," Ma Harris handed him a plate with a sticky bun on it. He just stared at the food at the plate like he didn't know what it was.
"Where did you go for coffee?" Ma aimed a buttery knife at me. "There's a lovely expresso bar at the downtown plaza and they have a Krispy Kreme down the
street a ways."
Ma actually stopped talking, so I changed the subject. "I've been thinking I'd like to get a part-time job for after school and on weekends. Know of any place where
I can get in?"
"A part-time job now I bet you could try out there at the bus station at Fran's Ee-lite, sure I mind the time Fran and me we both got jobs downtown at Kate's Kozy
Kitchen oh it was years ago now mind you and in those days they liked you to wear a uniform which didn't bother me in the least sure it saves the wear and tear on
your own duds I tell you they handed them out right left and center, soon as you wore one out they'd have it off your back and another one faster than spit, course
this was before I married Nick and he come in there one day and he sees me and he says to me..."
At this point in Ma's narrative, Nick came in for a meal before he hit the hay. That's the way they talk around here. It never seems to bother Ma to stop in
midsentence. It wasn't a full stop anyway, so much as a right turn. "Sweetie," she said to Xander, "If you're not gonna eat your food you might as well give some
to your father he's probably dead tired from working all day. Thank God," she prayed briefly over the food. "You want the ketchup?"
"Yep."
This is a roundrobin story. Would you like to contribute?
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
