Author’s note: Back to your normal sized chapter. What would you like to happen next? Should we follow Chloe and her escapades? Buffy and Xander? Lex and Anya? Anything else? Drop me a line. My apologies for the apparent lack of plot for this chapter.
Chloe was walking between Clark and Pete, excitedly holding on to Clark’s arm.
“So how did you find out?”
“About what Chloe?”
“About all this supernatural stuff.”
“Um.”
“Okay, so answer me this: are your friends really sure that there are vampires here in town?”
“They seem to be.”
“Vampires that only come out at night and need human blood to survive?”
“I guess.”
“And you can confirm this?”
“I don’t really have any proof.”
“Okay, well, first we’ll have to do more research because this is way beyond your Smallville straight up ‘cause and effect. I don’t even know what it would be classified as… Magic? Maybe, although I might have missed a meteor shower or maybe the government is testing a psychosis-inducing drug on the population without anyone knowing-”
“Yeah, and how the hell would we find that out?” Pete asked, trying to get Chloe to think about what she was saying for a minute.
“I have my sources.”
“She has her sources.” Clark shook his head and Pete nodded his. “Of course she does. Of course you do.”
“Maybe we should be collecting ground samples…”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Clark asked the insatiable reporter.
“Well, something’s obviously going on, and the public has the right to know about it.”
Both guys smacked her in the stomach.
“Chloe, you promised,” Pete reminded her, “and I’m not sure I really want to find out either way, so why don’t we just take it easy?”
“But I want to know! I have to know,” she explained. “You can’t just throw me a bone like that and expect me to sit on my hands.” She batted her eyelashes at her friends. “Come on guys, you know how I am! We’ve only got a couple of days and taking it easy just won’t cut it.”
“Right,” Clark said, glancing at his excited friend wearily, sideways.
“Do we know anything else? Like where all these gangs hopped up on horse tranquilizers are?”
“I haven’t seen any.”
“So it’s got to be a cover up of some kind. Maybe I should make an appointment with the police chief.”
“M-hum” the boys answered as she kept thinking aloud.
“I should also talk to the school principal, maybe interview some people that are closer to our age, find out if there’s a local hangout…”
Buffy was walking up front, lugging most of the visitor’s gear. Clark was catching up with his friends, several feet behind her. It seemed that Chloe, in all the excitement, had lost her car, or so she claimed. Buffy made it her point to walk faster than they could so as to avoid most questions.
She surprised herself sometimes. It was like her to be a bad liar, she had always been, but it wasn’t like her to just give up her secrets. Was it? Still, she hadn’t said anything about slayers, or keys or witches or vengeance demons or vampires (she’s been involved with) or watchers for that matter, and she didn’t intend to. She was hoping that the information that came out of her mouth was her brain subconsciously telling her that some truth was the easier way to go, and would keep everyone safe.
If it was just she, being careless, than she had more of a problem, and she really did not need to add to the list.
She thought she had problems when her shoes didn’t match her clothes back in LA. She thought she had problems when she had a curfew and a new secret identity and a snooping little sister. She knew she had problems when she met Principal Snyder. She thought being with Angel was going to be her worst period of inner turmoil, but it *so* wasn’t. There had been Faith, and her mother dying, and coming back from the dead. She wasn’t getting better at managing her inner self. She hadn’t dealt with half the things that had happened to her. She always just kept on trucking, because it was her job, because she wasn’t only the most important person in her sister’s life, but she was also important to the planet. She hadn’t wanted to die young; when she had, she hadn’t realized the huge blessing it was, she was just blissfully happy there. Normal adults couldn’t deal down here half the time. A girl who went through what she went through SHOULD be banging her head against the wall in a mental institution…
And maybe she was. She thought with a smile, remembering her strange episode.
She looked around when she realized everyone had stopped walking, including herself. Clark came up beside her.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, putting a concerned hand on her shoulder.
Hey, if he’s superboy, why the hell isn’t he carrying more of this shit? Oh, right, answering would be good.
“Whah?” Okay, that could have been more eloquent.
“You shouted and then you stopped and smiled. Chloe and Pete didn’t want to intrude. You’re alright, though, right?”
“I shouted. Right.” Going round and round on certain topics did make her want to wail in frustration. She just ignored that she had. Like she tried to ignore that she was trying desperately not to think of Spike and what he had told her.
She heard Chloe say something about psychosis to Pete and shrugged it off. “I’m fine Clark.” The older blonde said. She turned to see Clark’s friends closing the gap between them tentatively. “I just had this really bad song in my head, and it’s been there for three days straight now, so, you understand,” she told them.
“Yep, and I totally empathize, but I totally don’t want you to share,” Pete said, getting a glare from Clark; he explained himself, “I just got a song I like to replace one we heard on the way over, but it might not stick. So I know your pain, but I’m trying not to relive it.”
“Fair enough,” Buffy said, turning back in the direction of her house to continue her trek.
She’d have to call Xander’s when she got home and see how he was doing. Damn! Why couldn’t she just let him kill Spike? So what if the vampire was rational enough to help her save the world way back when he was chip-less? So what if he displayed a lot of human qualities that surprised her? So what if he kept Dawn’s secret and let himself be tortured by Glory? So what that he couldn’t defend himself against humans and he regularly helped her keep the streets clean? So what if he was the only one she didn’t have to worry about getting hurt? So what if she beat up on him way too much because she felt like it and it was easy to tell herself he wasn’t alive? So what if she felt bad about all those times she broke his bones and left him bleeding on the floor when it hadn’t been at all necessary? So what if they had a sexual relationship and he actually helped her in her time of need? He was a vampire, even with the chip. He wanted to kill her as much as he wanted to have sex with her. And she couldn’t kill him, because she sadly couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.
She just had to put the fact that he had intended to rape her on top of the pile of things she wouldn’t deal with and move on if it was possible. Not forgive him. Not ever. Just stick it on the pile and keep walking. Right?
“Right what?” Clark asked.
“Oh, no. Sorry, I was um; I guess I was thinking out loud. Just call me scatterbrain Buffy.”
“You sure you’re alright?”
“No, of course I’m not, Clark. You heard what went on back there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“Of course you didn’t, don’t worry about it Clark, just don’t make me talk about it right now.”
“Sure.”
“So, why are you walking up here with me?”
“Chloe’s asking too many questions and it isn’t my place to answer. I love the girl, but she’s different when she’s a reporter. She’s like a real reporter, and she’ll get it out of you. Or she won’t but she’ll still know exactly what’s going on.”
“So what you’re saying is you’ll spend your entire high school career dodging every opportunity one of your best friends has to ask you questions?”
“Um, well, yeah?”
If Clark hadn’t been such a freakin’ giant, she would have patted him on the head like he was nuts and walked off. Given there was more than a foot difference between them, she took his arm and half cuddled him: “Good luck,” she told him. He was going to need it if he really intended to keep his secret.
“Yeah, I’m going to need it,” Clark acknowledged.
“Yeah, and speaking of need, help me lug this, would ya?” She asked, plopping half the gear into his hands.
Clark could feel Pete and Chloe watching. It was sort of strange having his old friends and new friends together. He wondered if he was the same with both groups. He loved his Smallville friends deeply and he could tell them almost everything. He enjoyed the Sunnydale group, and had the freedom of being himself. They were more serious and sillier at the same time in this town. He hoped both groups would get along.
She didn’t want to jinx them by thinking that they were home free so Buffy sped up once she hit Revello drive.
She dropped everything outside her door and fumbled with the keys. She looked back at Clark and saw him scanning the area. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was granted access and ushered everyone in.
She told the three to make themselves comfortable and ran to the kitchen, grabbing dirty dishes along the way and putting them in the sink. The message light blinked on the old answering machine. She hesitated to get them, but Dawn had been the one to take them the past two weeks at least, and she really shouldn’t shirk her responsibilities like that.
“Hello, the message is for Miss Buffy Summers. This is Mrs. Kowalski; I’m in charge of informing parents whose children are in the intensive summer school programs that they will be starting Tuesday instead of Monday. Also, the exam period will be commencing one day later than previously scheduled. The reason for this delay is the availability of the newly rebuilt Sunnydale High School. If there is a problem with the change of venue, please contact me as soon as possible... Let’s see. I have your daughter Dawn’s transcript right here. She will be attending oh. It says here she missed a few important year-end exams. She needs to take Physics, English and History over. You also need to have a talk with the P.E. and Geography teachers to discuss an appropriate way to get her a passing grade. Thank you kindly for your time.”
*Message saved.*
Ugh! Buffy despised these types of phone calls. So Dawn was being a clepto and hanging out with a vampire most of the year; she still had decent grades, at least since the social worker scare. Was it her fault their friend had tried ending the world on one of her exam days?
“Hello, this is Time magazine. The message is for Mrs Joyce Summers. Your subscription is almost up-“
*Message deleted.*
“This is the National Bank calling for Miss Buffy Summers. You need to make an appointment to meet with the bank manager as soon as possible. Your balance is well below zero once more-“
*Message deleted.*
“Hi. This is Fred again. That’s short for Winifred. Burkle… is my last name. Look, I understand you don’t know us, but we work with Angel and we really need to speak with you. He’s missing, and so is Cordy. That’s Cordelia Chase, I think you went to high school together? I swear we wouldn’t be calling if we weren’t scared. I mean Charles isn’t really scared; I’m the one that’s afraid. We’re all alone here. We don’t know what to do. At first I was just thinking that maybe he and Cordelia holed up together for a bit, but their cars were abandoned in two completely different places. I’m sorry. This is already my seventh call and I’m taking up all the space on your service. Look, I just need to find my friends. I was wondering if you could help? If this is not the correct phone number for Buffy Summers you shouldn’t be listening to this message. I guess I should go now. By. Oh wait. The number for Charles’ cellular phone is in the 555 area code then 947-4606. We had to disconnect the phones at the Hyperion.”
*Message saved.*
She knew she had an audience, and she was not going to share her feelings about this. Angel was still missing after more than one month? Her heart just sank. How could she have ignored this for so long? How could she ever afford to take the time off to go to L.A. to look for him? What would she tell everyone? She’d probably have to sell the house just to pay for round-trip bus fare and a cheep motel… And then there was Spike, who also wanted to go. And she had guests damn it! She thought things were going well since Willow… They were goofing around and bonding and making a new friend. Why did the shit have to hit the fan every freakin’ five seconds?
She had the added stress of knowing Angel would look for her, no question, if he knew she was missing.
She bent over the counter and put her head in her hands. She took some deep breaths and felt Clark’s hands on her shoulders. She leaned back into him for a split second, a frustrated ‘ah’ crossing her lips and fought the urge to throw the answering machine against the wall when she heard the next message was from a bill collector.
She deleted that last message and dialed Xander. She told her guests she would only be one more minute.
“Hey Dawnie. You need me to come pick you up?”
“Okay, how’s Xander?”
“Oh. Well, at least he’s feeling better.”
“Good. You think he’ll ever talk to me?”
“Thanks. So you’re staying over?”
“Well, that would mean we would be short one bed, Dawn.”
“Okay, I’ll sleep in it. I swear, punkin’, all you’ll have to worry about are sister cooties.”
“Call me when you’re ready to leave tomorrow, I’ll be back here at one thirty.”
“Hey, that’s Lex Luthor and he is not creepy!” She laughed, smiling at Clark and shaking her head.
“Don’t tell Anya, but I’m sure Xander will let you take them down if they creep you out.”
“Ask him.”
“I don’t know, I think he’s cute. Did I tell you he was Clark’s friend?”
“Yep. It’s true.”
“Okay, bye.”
Pete and Chloe’s eyes were wide at the mention of Lex Luthor. Clark was smiling.
“Xander’s fiancé Anya has a big thing for Lex Luthor. Since Xander didn’t want her to put up posters and things in the apartment, she put all her things in the guest bedroom closet. It’s just a tad shriney and Dawn got wigged out by it,” the older woman explained to her visitors.
“Lex Luthor has fans?” Pete asked incredulously.
"She is a big fan of money," Buffy answered. "Plus he's quite good-looking."
"You have got to be kidding me," Pete chimed in again, "she's kidding right?"
Both Chloe and Clark didn't answer the question. Pete looked like he'd bit into a lemon.
“So I guess I should show you to your rooms?” Buffy said, changing the subject.
“Why don’t we just set the tent up in the back yard?” Chloe asked, hopefully.
“No.” Clark and Buffy both said.
Buffy didn’t want Chloe to do anything stupid, so she compromised.
“We’ll do that tomorrow. It’s just I need to get a good night’s sleep tonight because I’m working 5am to 1 in the afternoon. Plus the tent is going to take awhile to set up. Maybe you three can do it in the morning?” She asked, trying not to sound completely against the idea. If she had a whole day, she had time to plan out a defense strategy. It shouldn’t be too hard, since they had X-Ray vision boy with them.
She looked at them, trying to figure out where to put them. The blow up mattress her mother had bought years ago was no longer inflatable, so she had to put them in rooms. She didn’t love the idea.
“Clark, if you and Pete could share, you could take Willow and Tara’s room?”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Chloe, that means you get my room, and I will sleep in Dawn’s room.”
Chloe didn’t say anything; Buffy guessed she was going to take the opportunity to snoop. It was going to be a long night.
Chloe and Pete made their way upstairs while Buffy and Clark stayed behind to get xtra blankets. She spoke to Clark in hushed tones.
“Do you think you could have Pete leave his things on the floor? Some of my mother’s things are still in that room and all of Tara’s things are still there. Her family wouldn’t come to the funeral and Willow… Most of her things are still in there too. It would be nice if you left things alone as much as possible.”
“I understand.” Clark said sadly, but he didn’t understand, not really. He couldn’t.
“How many hours sleep do you really need?”
“7 minimum when I’m adjusting to a power, 2 hours normal. Why?”
“I’m not asking you to get a headache or anything, but can you make sure Chloe doesn’t play detective with my personal belongings?”
“I’ll try.”
There's a diary in my nightstand drawer and a weapons chest in the closet.
"Got it."
“Look, I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. Can you pretend you’ve been here before, show them their rooms and the bathroom?”
“Okay.”
“I’m just going to go. Oh, and could you stick one of my pajamas in Dawn's room?”
"Won't that look a little..."
"Intimate, right. Scratch that, I'll wear Dawns."
She took one last apologetic look at Clark, ran to the door, then ran back to kiss his cheek ‘thank you’ and get the keys.
Clark only noticed his friends were watching from the top of the stairs because Pete clapped his hands at him. Chloe looked bothered, but didn’t say anything.
Clark made his way up the stairs slowly, as he familiarized himself with the house. He guessed the purple room was Dawn’s.
How long would it take to run to L.A.? She couldn’t help thinking. Would this Charles person accept the charges if she called him? And had they killed that many vampires that there wasn’t one she could beat up right now?