Buffy and the Stranger's Boss

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Buffy yelled out to Dawn and Willow.

Buffy opened the door.

"Is this the residence of a Miss Buffy Summers?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, but if you're selling something, I'm not interested."

"No, I assure you, I'm not selling anything. If it's possible, I'd like to speak to Buffy Summers."

"I guess it's possible. I'm Buffy Summers. And you are?"

The man handed Buffy an identification card. "My name is Burton Smith."

Buffy looked at the card and her stomach was suddenly tied into triple knots.

"So," She was able to say after clearing her throat and coughing, "You're from the 'Weekly Informer'?"

"Yes. I'm here to make arrangements to have Roger Mills' body shipped back to Denver. He has family there. The police told me you were with Roger just before he died. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Come in. I'm sorry, I just didn't expect you . . . so soon."

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" Buffy asked.

"No. I'm fine, thanks. You were going to tell me about you and Roger."

"There's not much to tell. We were walking in the park when we were jumped by a couple of guys, muggers, I guess. Roger was fighting them off when he was thrown into a tree. They ran off and we started back to his motel because he said he wasn't feeling too well. Then about half way back he collapsed and luckily a policeman was nearby and he took us to the Emergency Room. After a while the doctor came out to the waiting room and told me he had died."

"Uh huh!" Burton grunted.

"You know, I feel really horrible about this. If I had thought anything was wrong with him I'd have called an ambulance right away. I'm really sorry he died. I really liked him."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean he was a really -- he was a nice guy, and I feel terrible that he died."

"How long had you two been dating?"

"Actually, that was sort of our first date. We only met that morning. We had breakfast together, but I don't think that qualifies as a real date."

"So how did you two meet?"

"Well, you know, it's kind of funny. I was on my way to the coffee shop for breakfast, and Roger was in this alley being mugged . . . ."

"So that was two muggings in one day? Is that normal here in Sunnydale?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I think it was just one of those funny coincidences."

"I don't think a man dying can be called a funny coincidence."

"No. No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant . . . ."

"So, why were you two in the park so late at night? Wasn't that just asking for trouble?"

"Well, Roger said he wanted to . . . ."

Just then Willow walked in.

"Hi." She said, smiling. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, of course not." Buffy answered quickly. "This is Mr. Smith, Roger's boss."

"Oh." Willow said, and stopped smiling. "I'm really sorry about him dying, and all."

"Did you know Roger?" Burton asked.

"Oh, no. We never met. But Buffy was telling me about him."

"And your name is . . . ?" Burton asked.

"It's Willow." Then she added, "Rosenberg?" when the look on his face showed he expected more.

Burton looked as if he was trying to remember something, then reached into the inner pocket of his coat and brought out a well-used notebook. As he leafed through the pages he mumbled her name a couple of times. Then smiling at her, he put the notebook back into the pocket.

"Where were we?" He asked Buffy.

"I thought we were just about finished." She said hopefully.

"Just a couple more things, if you don't mind.

Buffy shook her head, smiling weakly. "No."

"Do you want me to go?" Willow asked. "If this is private . . . ."

"No. You can stay." Burton said. "Now, Miss Summers, you said you two were walking in the park about midnight or so. But I'm really having a problem understanding just why you two were out so late. You said it was a date. So just exactly what were you two doing the rest of the evening, before you went to the park?"

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She hadn't quite figured out her lie.

Finally she said, "Actually, we didn't do much of anything. Roger said he was interested in all the so-called weird things going on here in Sunnydale, so we were just kind of walking around the town . . . ."

"And what time did this 'walking date' begin?"

"Begin?"

"Yeah. Six? Seven? Eight? Did you two eat dinner together? Or just meet up somewhere afterward?"

All of a sudden, Buffy began to get a little irritated with all the questions.

"Just what has all this got to do with Roger dying? I mean, I answered all the questions the police asked, and they were satisfied."

"I'm just trying to get answers to the questions his wife is going to ask me, that's all."

"His wife? He has a wife?"

"Yes. And two little girls."

"Oh. He didn't say anything about a family."

"Well, maybe you two were so involved with each other, he just 'forgot' to say anything about them."

"NO! There was no involved! Only talking!" Buffy was back on the defensive.

"And just what was it that you talked about?"

"About Sunnydale. He said he thought there were ... strange things going on here, and he was ... investigating."

"And you were helping him investigate?"

"Well ... I guess ... sorta."

"I see. Now, about these two so-called muggers . . . ."

"Would anyone like a refreshment?" Willow asked, trying to break up the interrogation to give Buffy time to catch her breath and regroup.

"Yes!" Buffy said. "I would LOVE a nice cool refreshment-type drink. Mr. Burton, I just know you'd like a little something."

"No thank you. I really must be going. Roger's things are still in his motel room, and I need to see about them. I do want to thank you for your time, though."

"That's quite all right. Didn't ... mind a bit." An uneasy, half smile on her lips.

Buffy walked him to the door. Just as he was halfway out, he turned and said, "There are still a couple of things I'm not quite clear on. Do you think it's possible that we might continue this conversation later on this afternoon?"

"Sure." Buffy said, feeling like she was backed into a corner and had no other choice. "This afternoon's fine."

"Excellent! I'll be back about four o'clock. Good day."

Buffy slowly closed the door and leaned her forehead against it, trying to think.

"Who was that?" Dawn asked, startling Buffy out of her reverie.

"What? Oh. That was Mr. Smith, Roger's boss."

"What'd he want?"

"Answers."

"Did you give him any?"

"Yeah, but I don't think they were the ones he wanted."

Buffy and Dawn walked back into the living room where Willow was waiting.

"I guess you're glad that's over with, huh?" Willow said.

"It's not over yet."

"But he left."

"I know. But he'll be back this afternoon. He said he had a few more questions."

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed. "Why did you tell him he could come back? That wasn't very smart!"

"I know. But I didn't know what else to say. I wish Giles was here. He'd know what to do."

"Why don't you call him?" Dawn suggested.

"Dawn, it's all I can do to pay the phone bill as it is. I sure can't afford any overseas calls."

"Then call him collect."

"No, I couldn't do that. I'm just going to have to figure this out by myself."

"What if someone - like Tara? - could do a spell and make him forget." Dawn said.

"She'd never do that!" Willow said. "Not after what I did. I don't know how you could even suggest such a thing!"

"I'm sorry! Excuse me for trying to help!" Dawn shot back.

"Come on, guys. Arguing isn't going to help. I'll figure something out."

"Fine!" Dawn said, and went back upstairs.

Buffy and Willow looked at each other, hoping the other would come up with a solution.

The doorbell rang exactly at four p.m.

"I'll get it." Buffy said without much enthusiasm.

Buffy opened the door and Burton Smith walked in.

They went back into the living room. Buffy saw that this time he was carrying a battered briefcase, which he opened and took out an equally beat up spiral notebook.

"Miss Summers, the past few hours I have been going over the notes Roger made while he was here. And I have discovered that you haven't been completely honest with me."

"Well, we all tell a few little white lies now and then."

Instead of answering, Burton leafed through the notebook, looking for one particular page.

When he found it, he said, "Let me read you a little of this."

"Okay."

He cleared his throat. "Something odd going on. Over half of people interviewed end up repeating same name - Buffy Summers. No details. Suspect she may have supernatural powers. Only explanation why no one will, or can, say more. No luck so far locating her."

He turned two pages and continued.

"Talk about LUCK! Was supposed to have interview, but turned into robbery. During holdup, small, petite blonde walks up. Very cool, no fear. Almost like she was daring the mugger. I knocked him down while his attention was on her, he ran off.

"IT WAS HER ----> THE Buffy Summers! ! ! Had breakfast together. Casually mentioned witches, wwolves and vamps to her -- Played dumb, acted innocent. Was inconsistent about family members and history. Asked about dinner, but she refused.

"Followed her home. Will stop by tomorrow for sure.

"No real progress since coming here. Walked around few evenings, not much going on. Will try after midnight."

Burton closed the notebook smugly. "So, what have you got to say for yourself?"

Buffy shrugged. "What am I supposed to say?"

"How about the truth?"

"You know, you come into MY house, and you read me all these things, and make all these accusations, but you don't know a thing about me!"

"Do you have supernatural powers, Miss Summers?"

"What? Are you asking me if I'm a witch?"

"Well, are you?"

"No! And I'm not a werewolf, and I'm not a vampire!"

"But you know about them. And you probably know where I can find them."

"I think it's time for you to go. You're not welcome here anymore."

Burton stood up. "I'll go, but before I do, let me tell you something. You have no idea how extensive Roger's notes are." he said, waving the notebook in her face. "There are a lot of odd things going on here in Sunnydale. Things like this Magic Box store, and some bar called Willy's, and the burned out school, and the extraordinarily high death rate, and all the mysterious disappearances, and people's reluctance to speak up. But I don't think Sunnydale is the real story here, I think YOU are. Somehow, you’re mixed up in of all of this, and sooner or later I'M going to find out the truth."

He put the notebook back into the briefcase and walked toward the front door.

"You'll be hearing from me, count on it!"

After the door closed behind him, Buffy said with a worried look on her face, "Great, just great."

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked from behind Buffy.

Buffy turned to face her best friend.

"I don't know. I'm beginning to think maybe Dawn didn't have such a bad idea."

"Buffy! You can't be serious!"

"No. Of course not. But I just feel so -- helpless. I can fight demons and vampires, but how do I fight something like this?"

The next day and a half was full of tension for Buffy. Her imagination wouldn't let her relax. At any minute she expected Burton Smith to return, maybe with the police, or the FBI, or with dozens of reporters, all wanting a piece of her.

She was afraid to leave the house, even to patrol. If Roger had followed her home, it was very possible that Burton was also waiting to follow her.

Monday afternoon Buffy the phone rang, but she ignored it. After five or six rings, she heard Willow answer it. A minute later, she brought the phone to Buffy.

"It's Anya. Looks like your new best friend has been asking a lot of questions."

Buffy gave her a look that said she didn't appreciate the joke.

"Hello . . . ." Was all she got out.

"I guess you should know this horrible troll of a man was just here! All he did was walk around fondling the merchandise and asking me all these questions! -- 'What is that?' and 'Do you know this can be dangerous in the wrong hands?' and 'What do you know about Buffy Summers?' and 'Have you ever heard of a place called Willy's?' Well, of course, I didn't tell him anything. But then he said he'd be back, and he left without buying ANYTHING!"

"Anya, calm down. He's just a reporter. It's his job to ask questions. Although I have to admit, he is pretty good at his job. You didn't tell him anything about ME, did you?"

"Well, no. I mean, he was so rude I wouldn't have given him the time of day, which, come to think of it, was about the only thing he DIDN'T ask me. You know, if you want me to, I could get Halfrek to make him go away."

"Well, as tempting as that sounds, I don't think it would be such a good idea. I'm sure he has people who know where he is. Look, if he comes back again, just play dumb and don't let him rattle you. You know, if you have to, you can threaten HIM. It's your store and if you don't want him in there, tell him you're going to call the cops."

"Well, if you're going to do something, do it soon! All I need is for him to find out I once was a Vengeance Demon. I mean, that CAN'T be good for business!"

"Don't worry, I'll think of something. Thanks for letting me know. 'Bye."

"Buffy, this thing is starting to get serious. What if he finds Willy's place? And what if he sees all those vamps and demons in there? And what if Willy tells him about you? And what if he comes back here with the authorities? And what if I completely freak out and make you crazy with all my 'what-if ' questions?"

"Willow! It's all right! We'll think of something. Chill, Girl! Breathe!"

"Okay. I'm better now. See? Breathing easy. No big. But what if . . . ?"

"Will! It's going to be all right! -- Really."

Willow took another breath. If Buffy said it was going to be okay, then it was going to be okay.

As the sun set, Buffy told Dawn and Willow she had to patrol. If Burton was going to start nosing around like Roger did, she knew he could get himself killed.

She left by the back door and used her Slayers abilities to make sure no one was following her. She jumped over fences, walked along the peaks of garages, jumped from tree to tree and eventually made her way to the cemetery that Spike's crypt was located.

'I must have lost my mind.' She chided herself. 'Why am I even here? Am I that desperate?'

She started to kick open the door to the crypt, as she usually did, but noticed it was partially open.

'That's not like Spike." She said to herself. 'That door's always closed, whether he's here or not.'

She cautiously went up to the door and looked through it. There was just enough light to see inside. At first it seemed empty, but someone, or something, was making noises. The door was just open wide enough that she was able to squeeze herself in without touching it; she didn't want to take a chance on whoever was inside hearing it squeak.

The noise was coming from the pit at the rear, the one a ladder was needed to climb down into.

Buffy looked down, but still couldn't see anyone. But she heard something being scraped on the floor, and things falling or being thrown down. And she heard someone talking to himself; it was definitely a man's voice, but it wasn't Spike's.

Buffy closed her eyes and concentrated a moment. It wasn't a vampire or a demon. That left only two possibilities -- some homeless guy looking for a place to stay or something to steal; or Burton Smith.

Buffy eased back out of the crypt and hid in some bushes so she could see who came out.

"Playing a game of 'I Spy?' " She heard from behind her. It was Spike.

"Shh! There's someone in there, and I'm waiting to see who comes out." She whispered.

"Someone's in MY home? Well, we'll just see about THAT!" He said, a bit too loud.

Spike started toward the crypt when Buffy jerked him back, and to the ground.

"We're going to do it right here? In front of God and everybody?" He teased.

"Will you shut up?" Buffy said in a loud angry whisper. "Can't you just shut up for one minute?"

"All right, Pet, what's going on? Who's in the crypt?"

"Don't call me that. I'm NOT your pet! I think it's a guy named Burton Smith. He's been asking a lot questions about me and witches and vampires."

"That must be the bloke that was in Willy's a little while ago. Made a lot of customers very nervous. I'm surprised he's still living. What's he doing here?"

"Probably looking for whatever he can find."

"Well, I'll put a stop to that! You just don't go rifling through a person's home just because you think he might be a vampire."

And once again he started for the crypt.

And once again Buffy jerked him back into the bushes.

"Will you stop already? Let's just wait and see. It might NOT be him. I want to make sure."

"If he breaks anything, you're going to be the one to replace it." He warned.

After a few minutes, Spike said, "How long are we going to wait out here?"

"As long as it takes."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but come the sunrise, I go in whether you like it or not."

"It shouldn't take that long ... Shhh! Someone's coming out!"

A figure slowly looked out of the crypt, checking left and right, then moving suspiciously, made its way quickly around the corner and was gone.

"Was that him?"

"I think so. It looked like him."

"Well, then," Spike said aloud, walking out of the bushes. "Let's just see what your friend's done to my home."

Buffy followed Spike inside.

"Looks about the same." Spike said as he looked around.

"He was down in the pit." Buffy told him.

They both climbed down the ladder. Here, it was a different story. It had been thoroughly searched -- furniture had been turned over, clothes and sheets had been unfolded and thrown on the floor, boxes and crates had been upended, and three bottles of liquor had been broken.

"Now THAT was really uncalled for! Why did he have to bust up my best whiskey?" Spike sounded as if he was going to cry.

"Maybe he doesn't drink and thinks no one else should, either."

"That tears it! He's not getting away this this, I'll tell you that right now!"

"What are you going to do? Show him how to fall down in pain?"

"Hey! It might be worth it!"

"I have a better idea -- look around and see if he took anything."

After a few minutes of straightening up and putting things back, Spike concluded nothing was gone, except his liquor.

"Well, he was here for some reason. You're sure nothing's gone?"

"Look around. Would you want anything here?"

"Not on a bet! I guess I better try to catch up to him, just in case he gets himself into trouble."

"What's your rush? We've got all night." Spike said with a suggestive tone in his voice.

"I thought I made myself clear -- never again! Not ever! Not even if the Hellmouth opened up and it was our last night on earth!"

"So, you say you want to think about it a bit?"

Buffy glared at Spike for a few seconds then climbed the ladder, and left the crypt.

When he was sure she was gone, Spike went to the cabinet where his photos of Buffy were hidden. They were gone.

He climbed out of the pit and went to the refrigerator. He had three liters of blood, stolen from the blood bank not two days ago. They were gone.

"That's it! That bloody sot's going down! I don't care what the Slayer says!"

Buffy tried to follow him, but by the time she left the crypt whatever trail he might have left was cold.

She spent the next couple of hours patrolling, but never saw him. Then she remembered Spike saying something about him being at Willy's. She decided to go by, just in case.

Instead of going through the front door, she decided to use the back door. As she walked down the alley, she could hear sounds of fighting and muffled screams.

"What's he got himself into?" She said as she ran to the end of the alley.

There she saw two vampires fighting over a pouch of blood, two empty ones were on the ground. And she saw some a demon holding Burton Smith, about to bite into the top of his head with an over-sized mouth full of one inch dagger-like teeth -- a Brain Eating Demon.

Buffy pulled the stake out of her sleeve and threw it as hard as she could. The wooden missile struck the demon in the forehead, and the force of the blow threw him against a wall. Half the stake buried itself into the wall, the rest was still in the demon’s head, pinning him up like some kind of lab specimen.

Burton fell to the ground cringing in fear.

Buffy took a running jump and kicked one vampire in the back, knocking him into the other, causing both of them to go down. As one vampire turned to attack Buffy, the other grabbed up the pouch of blood and ran past them out of the alley with its prize.

Hit with two spinning roundhouse kicks, one to its face and the second to its knees, the vampire was knocked to the ground. As it sprang back up, Buffy grabbed it and threw it against the same wall the dead demon was pinned against. The shock allowed the demon to fall forward to the ground. Buffy dodged the vampire's lunge, pulled the stake out of the wall and with one smooth circular motion, connected with the vampire's heart, and it turned to dust.

Looking up, Buffy saw several heads peering out of the backdoor of Willy's. Before she could say anything, the heads disappeared and the door slammed shut.

Walking over to Burton, who was trying to get to his feet, Buffy asked, "Are you all right? You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"Those were vampires!" He said accusingly, his courage coming back.

"Yeah, except that one," Buffy said, looking down at the demon. "He's a demon. He eats brains, or he did."

"How were you able to do -- what you did? I've never seen anything like that in my life."

"Practice." She wasn't about to go into the Slayer thing. If he didn't know about Slayers, why bother?

"I just realized," He said, "You saved my life!"

"I do that sometimes. I think it's about time we got out of here."

As she looked around for her stake, Buffy noticed there were dozens of photos on the ground. When she bent down to pick one up, she realized they were all of her!

"Did you take these?" She asked, pinning him against the wall with her hand against his chest. "Spying on me?"

"No! I found them. I swear!"

"I'll bet! Where!"

"Inside some old crypt in one of the cemeteries. They were hidden in some kind of cabinet down in a pit inside it."

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What? Who's Spike?"

"Nobody! Let's go, now."

Buffy walked him to his car and watched as he drove off into the night.

Then she went back down the alley to pick up the pictures. She tore them into bits and threw them into a dumpster. Then as an afterthought, threw the demon into the dumpster as well. She knew before daybreak some demon-eating demon would sniff out the body.

All the way home she fumed about the pictures, imagining just how bad Spike's face was going to look when she got through with him.

The next morning, at 8 a.m., the doorbell rang. When Buffy opened the door, it was Burton. He pushed past Buffy and went into the living room.

Buffy followed him in, and suddenly he turned on her waving the battered briefcase in her face.

"I have you now. I spent all last night going over Roger's notes and reports, and made some of my own. Your secret's out! Come next week's edition of the 'Weekly Informer' this story will be in every supermarket and convenience store in America. In two weeks, the whole world will know what's going on here!"

"You can't do that."

"Oh yes I can; I can and I will!"

"But don't you realize what will happen if people find out that their greatest fears about monsters and demons are true! They won't be able to handle it!"

"I think you're just afraid that your little set up here will be found out."

"Set up? Is that what you think? I have some kind of Set Up? That doesn't even make sense. I fight the demons and the vampires that prey on . . . ."

"Don't even try that on me! I've got all I need to know right in here," he said, waving the briefcase again.

"Mr. Smith, please, sit down. Let me try to explain what's really going on here."

As much as she hated to, Buffy knew she was going to have to tell him everything. And then just hope he would have good sense enough not to write the story.

For the next thirty minutes Buffy talked about vampires, demons, witches, the Hellmouth, about being the Slayer, about the Master, and saving the world from Glory, and Akathla, and too many other Hell demons.

"So you see, you can't let this get out." She concluded. "It's bad enough people here in Sunnydale have to live with it, but the rest of the world CAN'T know what's going on. Surely you realize that!"

Burton smiled a humorless smile.

"Oh, Miss Summers, this is even better than I thought. Fortunately for me, I have a photographic memory. It looks like it'll take a half dozen issues to cover this adequately. I can't thank you enough. And now, I think it's time for me to go. I have a LOT of work to do."

Buffy could only sit in silence, waiting for him to leave, not knowing what to do.

But he didn't leave, he just sat on the couch, as if waiting for something. Was he expecting her to tell him even more?

After a few uncomfortable minutes, Buffy said, "Was there something else?"

Burton smile again, warmly.

"No. I think that's about everything. I just want to thank you again for trying to help Roger. I'll be taking him back to Chicago this evening."

"Chicago? I thought he was from Denver?"

"Denver? No, his ex-wife lives in Denver, but he hasn't been there in almost ten years."

"He has an ex-wife too?"

"Too? Did you think he was married? Where did you get that idea?"

"He doesn't have a wife?"

"No."

"What about his two little girls?"

"Miss Summers, I don't know where you got your information, but Roger hasn't got any children, he can't have any. That's why his marriage broke up - low sperm count."

"I guess I was mistaken."

"Well, I must be going. Thanks again for everything."

He started toward the door when Buffy saw he left his briefcase. For a moment she started not to say anything, but knew he'd be back for it.

"Don't forget your briefcase." She said as she picked it up to hand it to him.

"That's not mine. I've never seen it before in my life. Anyway, thanks again, and have a great day."

And he left the house.

"Something strange is going on here." Buffy said out loud. "VERY strange."

As she walked from the living room, Willow came out of the kitchen, an odd, uneasy look on her face.

"He's gone?" She asked.

"Looks like it. I don't get it. First he acts like he wants to nail me to a cross. Then all of a sudden he was so ... nice. I almost thought he was going to kiss me. And look, he left his briefcase. But when I tried to give it to him, he said it wasn't his. I don't understand that at all. It has everything in it."

Willow continued to look at Buffy, as if expecting something.

Finally Buffy said, "What?"

"I -- " Willow started to say. Then she took a deep breath. "I -- " But she couldn't get it out.

"You what?" Then a realization came to Buffy.

"Willow. You didn't do a spell, did you? Tell me you didn't."

Willow nodded slightly.

"Willow! How could you! You promised!"

Willow's eyes were becoing moist with tears.

"I'm sorry, Buffy, but I had to. I heard what you said about no one could know about all this. And I kept hoping he would say he wouldn't tell. But then I knew I didn't have a choice. I HAD to make him forget! I did it for you, for all of us!"

Buffy didn't know what to feel. On the one hand she felt total relief. It was like a great weight was lifted from her chest; she could breathe again. But at the same time, Willow had promised over and over that she'd never use magic again.

"Buffy, please don't be mad at me. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do!"

'She promised!' Buffy thought to herself. "How could she?'

Then another thought came to her. 'But is that any more wrong, or any more terrible than what Spike and I have been doing?'

By this time Willow was in Buffy's arms, crying on her shoulder. "Please, Buffy, you have to forgive me! I swear! It'll never happen again!"

'What if they all found out!' Buffy thought. 'Would they . . . forgive ME?'

Buffy held Willow, letting her sob.

"It's all right, Will," She said softly. "There's nothing to forgive . . . you did the right thing."