by Tom Hilton
Page 1
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"Mulder, would you mind telling me what the hell we're doing here?" Scully was in a bad mood. They had made a wrong turn somewhere and were driving aimlessly around the bad part of town, which was apparently about a block from the good part of town.
"I'm surprised at you, Scully. I thought you read the file."
"Very funny, Mulder. Yes, I read the file. We're investigating possible domestic terrorism links to a bombing at the local high school. Which leaves one question: why are we *really* here?"
"Scully, I'm hurt that you would assume I have some ulterior motive in coming here." He ignored her withering glance. "But, since you ask, Sunnydale happens to be a hotspot for paranormal activity. Did you know that per capita sales of occult paraphernalia here are ten times the national average? I'd love to have a magic shop in this town."
"Since when does gullibility make an X-file, Mulder?"
"Not impressed? Okay, then how about a long history of killings where they couldn't even determine cause of death, much less identify the killers? How about a rate of unexplained disappearances that's off the charts?"
"You know as well as I do that if you manipulate the statistics, you can always create the appearance of something abnormal."
"There's more. The local indians, the Chumash, had a legend of something that translates roughly to 'mouth of hell'--a place where demons emerge from the netherworld and walk the earth. Their legends placed it here in town--in fact, right under the high school that blew up. Interestingly enough, the 16th century alchemist Alazerasterus also spoke of a 'hellmouth', which he placed in the New World somewhere on the mythical island of California. If you look at his maps, they're wildly inaccurate except for one thing: his 'hellmouth' is in the same spot where the Chumash said it was, right here in Sunnydale."
"I see. So we're here chasing after demons."
"Not demons, Scully. Demons are just a metaphor, a word they used for something scary and threatening, something they didn't understand."
"And you have a theory, I suppose."
"Extraterrestrials, Scully. I think they weren't just landing in spaceships; they had another way to get here, maybe a wormhole, a portal if you will. And I think our end of the portal is right here. And I intend to find it."
"Let's just find downtown for now, Mulder. Look, here's the bus station. Maybe we could actually ask someone for directions."
The bus station was a glorified trailer with a ticket counter and two long benches. The only person waiting was an attractive, stylishly dressed young brunette. "Let's ask her," said Mulder.
She looked up as they approached. "Excuse me, miss, could you tell us how to get downtown?"
"Nice suit. Hugo Boss, right? Just take a left at the end of the block. You can't miss it, unless you blink."
"Thank you. Where are you headed?"
"Oh, I'm moving to L.A. I need to live in a town with better clothes. Of course, if you had arrived earlier, I might have stayed here."
Mulder caught Scully's glare and realized he was grinning. He assumed what he hoped was a more serious expression.
"And what brings you two here?"
Scully broke in. "We're federal agents, here to investigate the bombing at your high school."
A brief look of concern crossed the young woman's face. "Oh, that. Nothing to investigate. Just a crazy prank." Scully and Mulder stared at her, aghast.
"A prank gone horribly wrong," she added hastily. "It was awful."
"So you were there?" Mulder asked.
"Yes, but I'm sure I can't tell you anything you don't know."
"Did you know the people who were responsible?"
"Please. Do I look like I would hang out with that kind of freaks and losers? I mean, whoever they were?"
"This may sound like a strange question, but…did you see any kind of...oversized...reptilian creature?" Scully stared at him in disbelief.
"Weekly World News, much? Maybe you should ask Bat Boy--I'm sure he saw your giant snake."
"I understand your skepticism, miss. It's just that we have conflicting accounts from eyewitnesses, and I have to check them all out."
"I'm sorry, did you say you were from the Federal Bureau of crazy hallucinations? Maybe instead of asking about insane-o delusions you could, maybe, I don't know...catch some *real* criminals? I would be shocked at this waste of my daddy's tax money, except that--well, that's none of your business. There's nothing to investigate here, nothing at all. Wait, is that my boarding call?" The PA system was silent. "I really have to go. Can't miss my bus, you know. Have a nice trip back to wherever." She walked quickly out the door to the bus bay, leaving the two agents staring after her.
"That was weird," Mulder finally said.
"Yes, Mulder, it was weird." Scully began walking out to their car, then stopped and turned around. "But it wasn't an X-file."
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Chapter Two
"I have to say I'm not minding the lack of action lately." Willow sprawled on Giles' couch and sipped her tea, savoring her short break from a long morning of cataloguing volumes of arcane lore.
"Yes, it has been quiet, hasn't it? We haven't seen a single demon since...well, since the Ascension."
The door burst open and Xander came in, obviously agitated. "I just got a call from Cordelia," he began.
"Oh well, so much for the no demon streak."
Xander ignored her. "We've got trouble. Cordelia said..."
"Where did she go, anyway? I mean, it's not like I miss her or anything, but she left without saying goodbye, and goodbye was the one thing I actually *wanted* to hear her say."
"She went to L.A. She wants to get into acting. But that's not..."
"Oh, that must be nice. Living in L.A. on daddy's money and pretending she actually has some talent. I mean, some talent besides verbal abuse."
"Damn it, Will, will you lay off of Cordelia? She's not--" Willow and Giles were stunned by the ferocity of Xander's response. "I'm sorry, Will. It's just that we have a huge problem here, and I can't tell you about it unless you can forget for two minutes how much you hate Cordy."
Willow looked contrite. "Sorry. Go ahead."
"Yes, please do."
"Thank you." Xander paused to collect himself, then forged ahead.
"She called to warn me. Right before she left she ran into a couple of federal agents. They were asking her all sorts of crazy questions. Crazy questions about a certain explosion at a certain high school."
"Oh, dear." Giles took off his glasses and began absently rubbing them with a cloth. "We could always count on the local constabulary to turn a blind eye, but these people have no idea what goes on here. If they're looking at this as a deliberate act of sabotage, they'll do their best to find and prosecute whoever was responsible."
"But...but...but...no! Bad! They can't do that! Can they?"
"Well, from our perspective it's clear that they have no jurisdiction at all over the supernatural. Somehow I doubt we'll have much success in making them see it that way, however."
"Can they link us to anything, though?" Xander thought a moment, then answered himself. "The fertilizer."
"Yes,” Giles said, “all they have to do is ask at Orchard Supply and they'll find a credit card receipt, my credit card receipt, for more fertilizer than I could possibly use in my miniscule garden. Plus, anyone who handled it will be implicated...which means--"
"Oz!"
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