Disclaimer: Covered in previous parts. I don't own 'em, I just borrow. (I can still dream, can't I?)
Timline and Spoilage: Also covered. Set after "Innocence", but before "Passion". Everyting up to there is fair game.
Part Two
The final bell echoed through the halls of Sunnydale High School, and students began pouring out of classrooms, laughing and talking as they headed home for the day. In the middle of the crush, two girls, a blonde and a red-head, were slowly working their way deeper into the school, against the flow of students, headed toward the library.
“So did you want to come to my place to study for the chem test, or do you want meet at your house?” Willow glanced over at her friend when the question failed to penetrate Buffy’s awareness.
“Of course, we don’t have to study, we could go to the Bronze.” Willow tried again.
Buffy continued staring blankly at the floor as the made their way down the hallway, obviously a million miles away. Willow decided to try a different tract. “Or, if you don’t want to study or party, we could always go rob the bank. I’m pretty sure I could plan it out right, if we could get around the bloodthirsty trolls guarding the vault.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Buffy.” Still no response. “Buffy!”
“What?” Buffy finally looked over in Willow’s direction, snapped out of thoughts of somber green eyes and a smile far too old for the face it graced.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been somewhere else all day. Is it...Angel?”
Buffy turned her eyes away from Willow’s at the mention of his name, forcing back an immediate frustrated response to the question. Willow meant well, she supposed, but Buffy was getting a little tired of the concern and...pity that seemed to fill her eyes during every conversation that involved him lately. Which, unfortunately, was all of them. Eventually.
“Actually, no. At least not this time.” She hesitated, hoping to be able to end the conversation there, but one look at Willow’s face killed that notion. What the hell. she though. We’re probably going to need her help anyway. God knows Giles hadn’t been able to come up with much by lunchtime, some stuff on Astral Projection, telepathy and a few ghost stories. All conjecture, nothing helpful.
“I just had a really weird dream last night, and I can’t get it out of my head. Especially since it turns out to be not so much a dream.” She tried to think of the best way to explain without sounding nuts. Thankfully, they had just reached the library doors, giving her an excuse to turn away from her friend’s far too all-seeing gaze as they walked over to the table in the middle of the room. The paper still sat in front of the chair she had occupied that morning, the happy smile of the picture a sharp contrast to the image Buffy’s mind insisted on calling up for her.
“You remember the girl that disappeared from the theater last night?” Buffy asked, tearing her eyes away from the unseeing gaze of the black and white photo and pushing the paper toward Willow. She glanced around the room, unthinkingly looking for Giles. Not finding him or anyone else in the area, she turned her attention back to Willow.
“Sure,” Willow nodded, looking up from the young girl’s frozen smile, back to Buffy’s weary, dark-rimmed eyes, “it’s was all over the news this morning. Why?”
“I think I may have dreamed it. Either during or after, I’m not sure.” Buffy said in a clipped tone, seeming almost embarrassed, or perhaps angry. Willow’s eyes registered mild shock at the statement, which she quickly tried to hide from Buffy. She knew how much Buffy hated this “mumbo-jumbo” mental stuff, especially when it came to her dreams. Tension and discomfort were clearly written in the stiff line of her back, the way she clenched her jaw, the fact that she stared completely through Willow, focusing instead on some unseen point behind her. The last thing she needed was to know it wigged Willow, too.
“What makes you think it was more than just a dream? I mean, you could’ve seen something on the late news and then just dreamed about that.”
“No, I never watch the news.” Buffy stated on a sigh, shaking her head, “I already know enough bad stuff about the world in general and Sunnydale in particular. I don’t need more depressing thoughts. Besides, from what this says, it didn’t make the late news.” She reached up and briefly covered her face with her hands. “I didn’t even know about this”, she indicated the paper with an angry gesture, “until I talked to Giles this morning.”
“Oh. So, what happened?”
“She was taken. She was sitting on a swing, and some guy jumped out of the bushes and grabbed her.”
“Well, do you remember what he looked like?”
Buffy closed her eyes, trying once again to see the face of the man in the dream, and again came up blank. All she could see was the girl, eyes wide with helpless terror. She shook her head, trying to clear the image from her mind.
“I’ve been trying to remember what he looks like all day. It’s like his face is made up of shadows, I can’t make out any features.”
“Oh.” Willow slumped back in her seat, unable to come up with anything helpful to say to her friend. “What did Giles say?”
“He’s still researching. Nothing solid yet, mostly he’s looking for... something else.” Buffy paused, gathering her thoughts. This would be easier to tell Willow than it had been Giles, but she still needed to find a way to make it not sound like a hallucination, or just part of the dream.
Willow, for her part, merely sat patiently, her brown eyes curious, but not pushing, waiting out Buffy’s discomfort. It always seemed to work that way, Buffy would tell her everything if she just listened long enough. Willow was the only one who would do that, just listen. Xander would crack jokes, Giles would offer advice or theories, and Angel... well, Angel wasn’t an option anymore, so it didn’t matter what Angel would have done.
“When I woke up from the non-dream, there was a girl in my room, just standing at the end of my bed. She looked almost exactly like this girl, but not the same, you know?” Willow nodded, still listening. “She just stood there, and smiled at me,” Buffy paused, the image of that sad smile intruding on her thoughts, “and then she was gone.”
“So Giles is thinking a ghost?” Willow asked, jumping to the most obvious Hellmouth conclusion.
“Or maybe astrid.. astreial...”
“Astral Projection.” Willow supplied.
“Yeah, that - astral projection, but I know it wasn’t the girl who was taken last night.”
“Well, maybe she’s not the first. I can run a check and see if any other girls are missing who fit the same basic description.” Willow said, getting up to move over to the computer, taking the paper with her.
Both girls looked up as Giles entered the library, the door swinging shut behind him.
“Ah, good, you’re both here.” He headed directly to the weapons area, unlocking the door and pulling out the gear for Buffy’s scheduled training. “Willow, I assume Buffy has informed you of what’s going on already?”
“Yeah, I was just getting ready to run a search, see if I could find anything similar.”
“Good. That would be helpful.” He began putting on the padding he always wore while Buffy pummeled him, checking the straps to make sure they were secure.
“Buffy, are you ready?”
“Sure.” Buffy replied as she pushed her chair back to stand. She glanced in Willow’s direction, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation at Giles’s single-minded obsession with training, then headed over toward him, fully prepared to knock him on his very proper English butt at least once.
Willow watched for a few minutes while the computer booted up and logged on, smiling briefly at the now-familiar scene. Then, drowning out the sounds of Giles’ grunts of pain as Buffy landed hit after hit on her Watcher, she turned her attention fully to her hacking. Let’s start with the newspaper...
Dark clouds hung low in the sky, obscuring the quarter-moon from view. There was a slight chill in the air, working its way past Buffy’s light jacket to settle against her skin, making her shiver. It had been raining on and off all day, but it had never gotten past the stage of a light rain, more of a sprinkle. Now, however, the threat of an impending storm was almost a physical presence following Buffy as she wandered through the streets and alleyways on patrol.
Though her eyes scanned the rooftops, corners and shadows with the ease of long practice as she absently maneuvered around the debris and puddles in her path, her mind kept drifting to the information Willow had managed to uncover earlier that afternoon.
Her initial search had yielded little or nothing, Autumn Westin was the only girl close to that age, fitting her description who had gone missing in the last six months. So she had gone back to a year, and then two years, and so on until she found what she was looking for.
Four girls, including the one from last night. Autumn Westin, Cara Lipton, Natalie Christian, Grace Milin - the names flitted through her thoughts. Four girls from the Sunnydale area had been reported missing and never found in the last nine years. All of them approximately seven or eight years old with wavy to curly red hair and green eyes.
Buffy shivered again, and not from the cold. Four. Just from Sunnydale. When she had finally left to patrol, Willow had still been searching through newspaper archives and police reports. Only now, she was looking in Devon and Bicknell. Los Alamos, Baroda and Casmalia. Mission Hills and Vandenberg Village. All places within an easy drive of Sunnydale.
Buffy was still unsure if the search of surrounding areas was a good idea. On the one hand, they needed to know, and she was grateful for the information. On the other hand, she just wasn’t sure she *wanted* to know.
She shook her head, forcefully pulling her attention back to the task at hand. Patrolling. That’s what she was supposed to be concentrating on. Looking for vampires. Though, for all the luck she’d been having she wasn’t sure if she should have bothered.
A frustrated sigh escaped her as she stepped over another puddle and rounded the next corner, heading down yet another empty alley. She may as well have just gone home, or stayed to help Willow with the search. She had been patrolling for more than an hour - through the graveyard, near the Bronze and on through the bad part of town - and hadn’t seen a single vampire.
She paused near the middle of the alley, listening for any stray sound, any movement that was not her own. Nothing. No rats, no cats, no dogs and no vampires, gouls or goblins. It seemed everything had taken shelter in anticipation of the oncoming storm. Even the wind had disappeared, leaving Buffy in eerie silence.
“Okay, I’m giving this about fifteen more minutes, and then I’m going home.” she said aloud to no one in particular, drawing a small amount of comfort from the sound of her own voice. She sighed again, pushing her hand into her jacket pocket, wrapping her fingers briefly around the stake secured there, then continued on down the alley.
Nearly five blocks away from where Buffy searched for vampires, Carolyn Mercer had found one and didn’t even know it. Or to be more precise, one had found her.
He followed along a few paces behind her, fully enjoying watching his prey. She walked in a hurried manner, her eyes continually darting upwards with trepidation to the dark sky above, her thoughts on what a sudden downpour would do to the expensive silk blouse she wore.
His grin widened as he continued down the street after the pretty little morsel, keeping his footsteps light and measured to match his victim’s so as not to alert her to his presence. He liked to stalk his dinner, not chase it. As a matter of fact, so intent was he on not being seen by the human, he never noticed his own silent pursuer. She followed along behind him, her small feet making no noise on the pavement, her attention divided between the large male vampire before her and the small, oblivious woman he followed.
As the three of them rounded the corner onto Apple Street, it became quickly obvious to both the vampire and his shadow that Carolyn Mercer was nearing home. Her eyes no longer looked worriedly at the sky, but focused instead on a house near the end of the block.
The girl following the vampire slipped silently behind the bushes on the side of the street and moved quickly across the well-manicured lawns until she had passed the vampire, her feet making as little noise on the damp grass as they had on the pavement.
The vampire’s muscles tensed in anticipation of the kill, his face morphing into it’s more demonic visage. A feral smile curled his lips, leaving wicked looking fangs visible and gleaming in the streetlights.
Just as he was about to take the final steps that would bring him close enough to grab the young woman he’d chosen for a meal, his pursuer stepped out onto the pavement in front of him. He stopped in surprise, distracted from his intended task, staring down at the young girl.
She stood still and silent with her hands clasped lightly behind her back, her green eyes showing neither fear nor revulsion at his deformed features. Her auburn tresses formed a halo about her round little face, the ends falling to just below her shoulders, standing out brightly against the pale yellow dress she wore.
He looked up from the child, only to see that he was too late for his chosen meal, she was just stepping through the doorway to her house, still completely unaware of how close to death she had come that night. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat as looked back down at the reason for his missed opportunity.
He did not receive the reaction he had expected from the child. Even as he took a step toward her, curling his lip back to make sure she could see the fangs protruding from his upper jaw, the girl still showed no fear in his presence. She actually smiled. And in that smile he at last saw some spark of emotion. Pure hatred.
“I don’t suppose you remember the gingerbread man, do you?” The child asked.
The question, completely out of the blue and incomprehensible, had the desired effect of confusing the vampire for just a moment. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing at the ridiculous query.
His new prey chose that moment to turn and run, calling back in a high, singsong voice that dripped saccharine, “Catch me, catch me if you can.”
He snorted in disgust as he took off after the annoying little brat. He hated chasing food.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Buffy exited the alley into Spring Street. She paused momentarily and glanced up at the low-hanging clouds that covered the sky, finally deciding to pack it in for the night. She wasn’t going to be able to see any vampires in a downpour anyway.
She turned in the direction of home, choosing the route that would take her past the graveyard. It would only add a couple of minutes to her journey, and it couldn’t hurt to make just one more pass. She had managed to make it two blocks when the vampire practically ran her over.
He came barreling around the corner, his scream of rage her only warning of his presence. He came to a screeching halt a just few feet in front of the Slayer, looking frantically in the opposite direction for whatever, or whoever, he had been chasing. Buffy gave a silent cheer for whomever had been fast enough to outrun a vamp, though it did leave her with one very ticked off demon to deal with. Ah, well, it was, after all, what she had started the night intending to do.
“Lose something?” She asked.
He turned around at the sound of the falsely sweet voice, actually expecting the brat, his vampiric features twisted into a look of pure rage. He instead found himself faced with a petite blond, who, like the child before her, appeared completely unafraid of him. He was getting a little tired of that reaction.
“Maybe I could help you look?” She continued on, her face and voice simply radiating false, patronizing concern.
He growled low and furious, then launched himself at her, having absolutely no intention of letting a third meal vanish in one night. Buffy easily sidestepped the clumsy attack, bringing her knee up hard into the vampires midsection as he passed her. She clasped her hands together and brought them down hard on his back sledgehammer-fashion, sending him sprawling face down on the ground at her feet.
“Or, then again, maybe not.” She said as she pulled the stake out of her pocket in one swift motion. The vampire had recovered himself quickly, however, and rolled to his side avoiding imminent demise for the moment. As he did so, he reached out a hand and swept Buffy’s feet out from under her. She landed flat on her back beside the vampire, the fall forcibly pushing the air from her lungs, the stake falling from her slackened fingers and rolling over to a nearby dumpster.
While Buffy tried to regain her breath, the vampire quickly scrambled to his feet, then stood looming over her, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides in frustration and anger. These stupid mortals were supposed to be afraid of him, not make idiotic taunts and fight back.
He moved closer, reaching down to pull the girl up. As soon as he was within range, she brought her feet up, kicking him squarely in the chest. He fell backwards away from her, slamming into the dumpster, his head ricocheting off the metal with a resounding clang.
Buffy brought her feet back down, arching her back and using the quick motion to push off, landing firmly back on the ground and turning to face the stunned vampire. She dropped easily into a fighting stance, searching the ground for the necessary stake. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted it, just beneath the dumpster the vampire was now pushing himself away from. Out of reach until fang-boy moved.
The vampire again launched himself in Buffy’s direction, rage and humiliation fueling his attack. Buffy met him easily with a quick punch, followed by a roundhouse kick that sent the vampire reeling backwards once more. she thought, noting that once again, the vampire was practically standing on top of her stake.
The vampire pushed himself away from the dumpster for the second time, resisting the urge to rush the blond again. Instead, he took slow measured steps toward her, trying to get close enough to get his hands on her while still staying out of her reach.
“I had only wanted a meal,” he said, the words low and menacing, though they appeared to have no effect on the blonde, “but now I will kill you slowly. I will enjoy your pain before you die.”
She had the audacity to sneer at the threat. “Oh, puh-leease. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that line?” She asked, watching as his expression became less controlled and more and more furious. “What, is there some kind of vampire script you guys follow? ‘Cause, if so, then you should really look into getting some new writers - see if they can come up with something a bit more original.”
What little control he held over his rage dissipated in the face of her pitying little smile, and he screamed as he ran at her again. Buffy executed a quick somersault, ducking under the vampire’s arm and coming back up near the dumpster, stake once again firmly in hand.
The vampire, further enraged by finding only empty air where the blonde had been standing and laughing at him just a moment before, turned just in time to see Buffy come up out of her roll, his eyes completely missing the stake in her hand through the red haze of his fury. As he ran at her again, Buffy brought one foot up in a kick, catching the vampire in the jaw. His head snapped violently backwards and he stumbled away from her, though somehow managing to stay on his feet.
Buffy followed him, tightening her fingers around the stake. The vampire regained his balance long enough to throw a wild punch in Buffy’s direction. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and twisted it to the side. The vampire’s body followed the motion, arching back automatically to reduce the searing pain in his shoulder.
The moment his chest was fully exposed to her, Buffy plunged the stake hard into his heart. The inhuman scream of the demon filled her ears and echoed down the street as the vampire burst into ash before her. What was left of the former monster settled soundlessly at her feet and was whipped away by the suddenly fierce wind.
Buffy looked up from the sprinkling of ashes as lightening ripped across the sky, followed far too quickly by thunder for her peace of mind. She stuffed the stake back into her pocket and began walking quickly homeward, knowing she would not make it before the rainfall, but hoping nonetheless. Before she had made it to the end of the block the sky opened up, and the rain started, lightly, at first. Within little more than a minute, the amount of rain had increased to a downpour, coming down in angry sheets.
Buffy stopped at the corner and heaved a heavy sigh of resignation, tilting her face upward into the heavy rain, already soaked to the skin. She shrugged, giving up on any thought of getting home quickly to avoid getting wet. Running her hands over her face to clear some of the rain water from her eyes, she focused her gaze back to the street ahead of her, walking slowly, kicking half-heartedly at the puddles in the street. The large vampire forgotten for the moment, her thoughts were already on the long, hot bath that would counteract the effects of the early spring rain.
Back at the site of the night’s battle, a small girl stepped out from behind the dumpster, watching in mute satisfaction as the vampires ashes were mixed with rainwater and carried swiftly away to the drainage system below the city. She looked up, smiling, as the Slayer splashed her way through another puddle and rounded the corner. Her smile faded slightly as she took note of the way Buffy’s shoulders drooped again, victory forgotten as the weight of the world settled in once more.
The girl heaved a sigh of her own, and shook her head in sorrow as she began slowly walking after Buffy. The last thing the Slayer needed right now was one more weight to bear, and had there been anyone else the girl could turn to for help she would have done so. But Buffy was the first person in years who might be able to accept her for who she was, one of the few who had ever even been able to see her, and there really was no other choice.
After all, a girl’s life was at stake.
To Be Continued.....??
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