AN: Betaed by my beta CECILE. Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all stop asking

Night of the wolf

Buffy sighed. All she wanted was a quick patrol and then go to bed but Angel has been lurking in her room and currently, examining Mr. Gordo.

Well if she was honest with herself, she should have expected to encounter Angel sooner rather than later. She took a deep breath, soldiered up and silently wondered as she entered her room, 'I wonder which deities I have ever offended so much to deserve such a complicated life.'

Two weeks earlier, Halloween

Buffy was furious! Some stupid bitch just took her dress right under her nose and now she had nothing to wear for the Halloween babysitting duty that the troll of a principal assigned to her!

Although if she was honest, she would have admitted that it was mainly her own fault. In her defense, she still hadn't fully dealt with Ford's fate and the ramifications of it in her own life.

It didn't solve her current predicament. She didn't have anything to wear for the trick-and-treating babysitting duty. She sighed in frustration and looked around.

Her eyes wandered over the store's varied costumes and wares. She heard that Xander was here a while ago to buy his soldier-uniform. Then Willow also stopped by and bought her ghost costume earlier too.

Her eyes drifted towards and stayed for a second on an old but clean Spanish comb-morion. She continued to peruse the other items but returned to it again. Buffy stared for a good few seconds at the open helmet with a flat brim and crest used in the 16th to 17th century by Spanish Conquistadors.

She slowly walked to it and picked it up. Well, the more appropriate description would be, she jumped up to retrieve it from the top shelf it rests upon.

She held the helmet in her hands. She has an idea for a good costume if she could pull it off. She nearly jumped when she heard an English-accented voice behind her. It was the shopkeeper, apparently.

"Can I help you, young lady?"

Ethan was starting to get worried. He knew that this girl was Ripper's slayer and she was standing here, looking around and frowning! She might have noticed something on her magical radar or whatever it was that made slayer senses tick, when she suddenly pulled a helmet down the shelf. She was studying it carefully.

He plucked up his courage and went to her in the guise of being an attentive shopkeeper. He startled her apparently.

Buffy gave him a weak glare. She hesitantly nodded.

"Yeah, do you have any chainmail shirts of a smaller size or any smaller breastplate. Those worn by Roman soldiers perhaps?" She started nibbling on her lower lip in deep thought.

Ethan was a tad bit confused by her request, but he wanted her out of his shop before she suspected something and ruin his fun. She could tell Ripper if she found out that there was something not right about his shop. He plastered a fake smile on his face and led her over to where he had a few bits bought cheaply from a bankrupt LARP armorer.

In the end, he sold her a molded thick plastic cuirass, a short-sleeved faux chainmail shirt, several leather straps, several small leather pouches, a police nightstick, a pair of Roman caligae for her dainty feet a dog collar and a plastic replica of an SFPD badge.

He wanted her out of his shop so badly that when she came to the till to pay, he asked for only a twelfth of the price for the items. It might be a loss profit-wise, but he got what he wanted. The slayer was out of his shop at last.

He sighed contentedly, looking forward to all of that chaos his little spell would cause later.

Buffy ran home. She made a short pit-stop in her room to take one of her swords with scabbard from her weapons trunk. She phoned her mother who was still at the gallery, begging a bit that she be permitted to use a pair of her mother's old leather pants.

With all of the parts necessary for her costume secured, she took them into the basement where a small workshop was made by her mother. Various dressmaking and crafts tools were there and Buffy intended to fully use them now.

After three and half hours of constant work, her costume was ready for her.

Later when the Chaos Spell was cast by Ethan Rayne

Sgt. Delphine Angua von Überwald AMCW was confused. Saying that would be the understatement of the century of the fruit bat! This situation was nuttier than a fruitcake!

She knew that a moment ago, she was on her way to Biers for a drink or two. Then suddenly, she was standing on a street that wasn't looking like anything in Ankh Morphork, Stohelit, Lancre or Überwald.

As a matter of fact, not even the sky seemed correct. The lights looked strange. There were dozens of some strange horseless carriages.

The streetlights weren't gas-operated. They were all so bright, strangely shaped and didn't have any removable coverings or knobs to be operated!

She had a bad feeling about this. Everywhere there's monsters: on the street, outside homes. Creatures of various kinds and size were fighting each other. Horrific beings terrorizing people outside their homes. People fleeing or cowering in their homes. And she didn't know how to help them, protect them and restore order yet.

Suddenly, a red-haired girl came running towards her, calling 'Buffy'. The girl was translucent!

"Oh, bugger!" Escaped her lips.

The girl started babbling so fast that Angua had trouble following what she said. She halted the babble by barking, "Stop! Slow down. Take a deep breath even if it was unnecessary for you. Now, tell me what's the problem and how can I help you?" She ended more gently, as her police instincts kicked in.

The girl did as she was told, introduced herself as Willow. Explained to her this strange night when everybody was turned into their costumes; that this was the town of Sunnydale (she was sure there was something really wrong with this town! No town with a sunny in its name could possibly be a good place to live!); and that right now, she was in the body of a Buffy Summers, her friend.

This was confirmed a moment or two later when Willow urged her to look into a side-mirror of an idle horseless-carriage nearby.

Her face wasn't hers; and she wasn't that short!

Willow convinced her that going into her host's home would be the best course of action for them for now.

On their way to said home, they met a soldier. Willow said he was their friend Xander who chose to wear a soldier's uniform. Now he was transformed into his costume too. The teen was using something that reminded Angua of the d'Eath case where a firearm was involved.

Willow talked to the guy and revealed the same things to him she did with Angua; and urged him to come with them.

A few feet away from their destination, a frantic girl was running to them for help. She was being chased by a dog-like creature. Xander was able to scare away the creature.

Willow started saying her by-now common explanation when the girl contradicted her and referred condescendingly to her intelligence.

Angua noticed the girl looked normal—just a girl in a cat costume. There was no transformation that happened with her. It was most curious.

As the girl continued to berate Willow, Angua decided this girl Cordelia was a bigger bitch than she was in her time of month.

Angua growled at Cordelia to shut her up. The whole situation was grating her nerves and she decided enough was enough! She let her teeth lengthened, grabbed Cordelia by the throat and with a great show of her canine teeth said,

"You grated on my nerves and I had such a short temper tonight, what with this mess here now! Quit your yammering of nonsense and tell me why you're unchanged unlike the others!"

Willow was stunned by Angua's show of temper and dental transformation. She was a bit rattled on her friends seemingly volatile behavior. The soldier boy Xander meanwhile pointed his weapon at her.

Cordelia was transfixed at Buffy's instant mouthful of wickedly large and obviously sharp teeth. She managed to choke out, "I don't know why I'm like this compared to the others. I don't know why they became what they're dressed as! Maybe the clothes were defective?"

Willow's eyes widened and frantically asked, "Oh, oh you're maybe on to something Cordelia! Where did you get that cat costume? At Ethan's store? I got mine there and look at me, I've become a ghost!"

Angua let Cordelia down. Cordelia gave a huge sigh of relief and answered, "I got mine at party-town, as I'd always done in the past! Ethan's Store? Was that new?"

Willow nodded frantically, "That's it! We need to go to Ethan's store and find out what's happened to us and to the whole town! Put a stop to it too!"

Angua took charge then and barked at the standing soldier. "You there—Xander right? Make yourself useful and escort Cordelia to the house we were going to. Move it! Don't stop for anything! Secure yourselves in the safehouse okay? We're going to this Ethan's Store to sort out this mess."

Willow pointed to the two the house they were supposed to take refuge in.

Corporal Alexander Harris has seen many strange and terrifying things in 'Nam and its jungles, but this lady in front of him scared the living shit out of him! She had the bigger teeth than anything he had ever seen. He stuttered, "Yes Ma'am!" Picked up Cordelia and sprinted the last few feet to their destination—Buffy Summers' house.

When she clearly heard the lock on the front door click after the two seeking refuge, Angua turned to ghost-Willow. "Lead on to Ethan's Store."

The redhead shakily nodded and started running towards Ethan's as fast as she could with Angua easily keeping pace.

As they reached their destination, Angua circled the shop once. She could smell the strong magic coming from it. She was sure that the place had something to do with the mess they're in now.

She kicked the door open, swiftly entered the shop and startling the owner.

She didn't waste time and jumped over the counter, grabbed Ethan by the throat slamming him against the nearby wall. Angua snarled to his face, "You have two choices-you either cancel the spell or you become lunch!"

Ethan stared at the irate slayer in true body armor and started to sweat. The blonde's teeth lengthened. He suddenly had an sinking feeling that the threat of being 'lunch' wasn't an idle one.

He knew that Ripper's slayer wasn't a vampire or demon now, as he had his shop warded against them. But her big teeth frightened him. The only thing that would make sense was that she transformed into a werewolf. A werewolf so in control with its shifter nature, and able to partially transform at will.

This-on the scale of good to not good—was a freaking disaster! Of all the costumes the girl could get her hands on, it had to be a powerful and ferocious werewolf!

Being a werewolf meant that Angua possessed the dexterity and jaw-power that could instantly rip out a man's jugular. It was a trick of Angua's father that had always annoyed her mother, especially when he did it just before meals.

"So what's your choice?" She growled loudly.

"The Bust of Janus! That two-faced guy in the back room…break it and the spell ends…" Ethan sputtered the words the best he could despite the chokehold the slayer has on his throat.

He was cut-off, turned forcibly around and handcuffed behind his back. Angua snarled a differently worded 'Miranda rights' to him. "Wait this medieval werewolf lass was a copper? Oh this just kept on getting better and better! Of all my rotten luck!" Ran through his head. He was shoved against the wall once more.

He heard something being unceremoniously hurled against a wall and its shattering thud. He could tell that the spell ended as the handcuffs holding his hands behind his back turned from solid steel into plastic. He managed to tear them apart.

In that precise moment though, Ripper's slayer came through the door to his side and before he could think of using a spell against her, he was smacked with a nightstick on the head.

Said nightstick—being a solid three-feet of water-hardened oak—robbed Ethan of the ability of doing anything to the slayer or think about anything for several hours.

Buffy grumbled to herself about, 'Stupid magicians! Deciding to party on the one night it as suppose to be a day off for slayers!' And threw the unconscious Ethan over her shoulder. She took the offending man to Giles at the Sunnydale library for interrogation.

Willow disappeared. Buffy felt panic then calmed down and scolded herself, "Of course she was transformed into a ghost and now that everything's back to normal as any normal could be at Sunnydale, she would go back to where her body was! You're not thinking, Buffy!"

On the way to Sunnydale High library, she saw things get in hand at most which was a relief all over. Returned-to-normal children and adults were hurrying home after finding themselves on the street creating havoc and mayhem. Buffy muttered, "I bet tomorrow all that happened tonight would be chucked as a product of their imagination. The Sunnydale effect at work at its finest! Stupid hellmouth! Stupid magicians!"

Funnily enough, it turned out that the Ethan chap was an old acquaintance of Giles. Though he was tight-lipped about something that Buffy didn't ask about so much. Let her watcher keep his secrets.

Giles would send the man to an all-expense-paid, one-way holiday to the Watcher Council's hospitality center for erring mages.

Buffy said, "Giles if there's nothing, I have to go. I'm worried about Mom. She had a Halloween event at the gallery. I need to check on her."

"Oh yes, yes Buffy, err go on. Everything's taken care of for now. Do go and check on Joyce." He secured Ethan tightly with tie wires in both hands and legs and inside the library book-cage. He muttered an incantation to prevent Ethan from reciting a spell to escape.

"Okay, good night Watcher-mine!"

As Buffy said, Joyce had a gathering at her gallery that evening for prospective clients, Sunnydale's rich and some loyal clients from her previous art brokering days in LA.

Her gallery event was a costumed party in keeping with the Halloween theme; and the guests were dressed up as famous artists. Unfortunately, most of them including Joyce, got their costumes from Ethan's too.

When the spell hit, one of the guests suggested doing a collaborative painting.

Most of the artists then started to argue who should be in charge of the project and what they would paint. It ended in what could be called The Slapfest of November 1997.

A transformed Da Vinci nearly strangled the transformed Michelangelo. While a transformed Van Gogh nearly cut his good ear off.

When Buffy arrived, it was one big mayhem at Joyce's Gallery with guests still fighting all over the place, even as the spell had already stopped.

Earlier, as the spell ended and people found themselves in the middle of a fight, they stopped for a moment to get their bearings.

Until an argument on who started the whole mess began to take momentum and it didn't take long before punches were thrown around again.

Buffy found her mother huddled under a table, crying that her gallery was being wrecked by her costumers.

This enraged her. She went into the fray and pulled people apart. Subduing combatants, left and right. Resolutely put an end to the fight like a real police officer—furiously threatened to press charges, dole out jail-time to their asses and where necessary, mediated with her fists.

After the situation was contained and a semblance of order was in place, she got all the offending guests' names and details, promising that they would be billed for the damages on the gallery. The guests could only stoically accept and hasten out of there in fear of the fierce blonde teen in their midst.

Buffy glared at each of the departing guests. This was one big messy night! Ooh, how she wished she could go back to Giles at the library and give Ethan a good teeth-rattling shake and then some! She collected her mother and they went home after righting what they could.

After the Halloween Chaos Spell

Several days after the Halloween disaster, Buffy started to assess how the spell really affected her.

Nowadays, she had a problem being in the same room with Angel. She had to convince herself not to leap at him and stake him. Angua's hate of vampires really rubbed off on her. She had to try so hard to quench it and bury it deep down.

As more days passed and she forced herself to calm down more and more, what's left of Angua's persona in Buffy brought a desire that she should somehow legalize herself in protecting innocents.

Buffy started thinking about the idea of joining a police academy as sound.

One hurdle was evident though, as her experiences with the Sunnydale PD's handling of the supernatural in Sunnydale leaves so much to be desired. Lame cover-ups of 'gangs on PCP'; the blatant incompetence of investigating questionable deaths and disappearances of Sunnydale residents by Sunnydale's finest, gave her a bitter taste in the mouth.

She valiantly continued to try to keep her relationship with Angel alive, resolutely tamping down on her Halloween-transformation's leftover instincts.

And life goes on as it should on the Hellmouth. Patrol. Slaying. Strange monsters at Sunnydale and at Sunnydale High. The usual slayer business. So it was no surprise then when the countdown to the year's big apocalypse came.

The night Angelus was set loose.

"Don't move…put your hands in the air!"

"If you go out of this house Buffy, don't think of coming back."

"No friends, no weapons…what's left?"

"Close your eyes…I love you Angel."

The fight at the mansion and Angel's trip to hell courtesy of Buffy-air came to a shattering conclusion. Everything fell apart for her. She needed to get out of Sunnydale! To be anywhere that's not Sunnydale!

Giles, as you're reading this, I've gone out of Sunnydale. I promise, I'd be back. Take care of yourself and Willow and Xander. Even Oz and Cordelia. I couldn't come to check on all of you at the hospital. I love you, Watcher-mine...

Sitting on the bus was a tired and contemplative Buffy.

If the Scoobies could see her now, they would see a sobering picture of a fully dejected teen, aged into adulthood beyond her years. They would see the reined in anguish in those moss-green eyes.

If they could have known how big a burden the slayer carried this night-her mother kicking her out of home; Principal Snyder kicking her out of school; the Sunnydale PD pinning her for Kendra's murder; her friends' non-communication on trying the re-ensouling spell once again; and Angel's one-way trip to hell all gutting her heart out-they wouldn't be surprised that Buffy felt her world closing in.

She needed to take a breather, get her equilibrium back and to ponder things far away.

She took a bus to LA.

In the lull of the bus' engine and the couple of hours' worth of travel, she decided to thoroughly look at her life, not only from the point of view of Buffy Summers—valley-girl turned slayer; but also from the point of view of Angua von Überwald—the successful police officer in Ankh-Morpork.

By the time she reached LA, she came to certain conclusions.

"There was a lot more in my life to do! There were things I could aspire to be! No matter what disaster had happened this night and the previous months, I could do something to turn my life around. I'm so much a survivor to just wallow in depression and self-hatred! That's it, regroup and come back swinging."

Reassured with this new outlook, she thanked the heavens for Angua and her much-needed memories and convictions.

A Month or so in LA

"Anne, could you serve this to table 6?"

"Sure Helen, I could cover for Rosa tomorrow morning. The extra hours would be welcome."

"But the slayer's in Sunnydale!"

"A-a-a! I was bored in Sunnydale, you know! Come on, a girl's got to find her kicks too! So here I am, happy to dust you in LA!"

"Buffy? Buffy! I don't know if you remembered me? I was Chantarelle and we met in Sunnydale at…"

"You're nobody, you hear! You're a slave! You're nobody!"

"Ken, meet my affordable but fashionably stylish boots!"

After more than a month in LA and a trip to a demon-dimension courtesy of Ken, the helpful Family Shelter counselor, she decided to head out for a visit that was long overdue by now.

That evening found Buffy before an apartment door at a working-class neighborhood in LA, nervously trying to gain enough nerve and knock on the door.

Her mind was playing different scenarios on the outcome of this meeting. 'What if her grandfather didn't believe her?' She shuddered at a repeat of visiting the inside of a sanitarium.

Well, only one way to find out!

She knocked.

A dog barked on the other side.

Buffy heard footfalls going nearer the door. A moss-green eye peered through the door's peephole. She heard a gasp before the door was practically torn open.

"Buffy? What are you doing here? Are you okay?" An elderly, robust, tanned man stood in the open doorway, curiously unmoving.

He had light brown hair peppered with gray. He was dressed comfortably in flannel shirt and well-worn faded jeans.

From the house came the soft notes of Chopin's Nocturne.

An ancient basset continuously wagged its tail, trying hard to get past the elderly man's legs and jump happily at Buffy.

"Hi nonno," Said Buffy softly asking, "Can I come in?"

Her granddad didn't take his only eye off her, as he wordlessly moved from the door to let Buffy in. He reprimanded the canine, "Dog, behave! Let Buffy in, you'd have plenty of time to cuddle with her."

'So…he definitely knew something about the supernatural,' thought Buffy, noticing how her grandpa wordlessly let her in the house. Pity that she didn't know this sooner. It would have been a huge comfort for somebody in her family believing in her calling and the world of monsters she live in.

She was surprised when her grandpa hugged her. "Mio Bella! How did you get here? What were you doing out there at this hour?" He quietly asked her when he released her.

They sat at the well-worn leather couch in the living room.

"That's a long story, Nonno," Buffy said quietly.

"I have time, for my family." Nonno replied softly.

Buffy suddenly felt grateful for her grandfather seated beside her, comforting her with his warm concern.

The room had a feeling of being lived-in for a long time. There were several photos placed around the room. Photos of their family featuring mainly her grandfather, her grandmother who passed away four years ago, and most of their relatives.

A few simple mementos here and there, of the lives of her grandparents.

The room smelled of cigars her grandfather smoked occasionally.

After a brief silence Buffy started, "Nonno, do you believe in monsters?"

Her grandfather picked a half-smoked cigar from a nearby ashtray and puffed a few times before answering, "It depends on what kind of monsters you're talking about."

He said slowly, "If you're speaking about those of a human nature, then yes, I believe in them. If you're speaking about others, umm…" He let half of his statement hang in the air, unsure of how to proceed.

Buffy absentmindedly petted her grandfather's ancient basset that leaned its head against her knee. She took a long breath and spoke, "I was talking about the other ones. Those things that go bump in the night for real." She replied all the while dreading his answer.

"Buffy, I've been a cop for most of my life. When I began, I was just a patrol officer in the 12th precinct in NYPD. The things I've seen there, left me with no doubts whatsoever that there are so many kinds of monsters out there." He said carefully.

With this, Buffy told him all about being the Chosen One—the vampire slayer.

Her granddad remained silent during the whole tale, quietly puffing on his cigar. He only interrupted when he asked about dinner. Buffy said she already ate, so he stood up to prepare tea and some biscuits for them instead.

Buffy omitted saying that she might be wanted by the Sunnydale police as a potential murder suspect for Kendra's death; or of how long was she in LA already, and what she was doing in the city.

He silently sipped his tea after Buffy finished her story for a second, before he spoke.

"It was the autumn of 1957. I was just a freshly promoted sergeant, when we had a string of cases involving a number of bodies, with torn throats and absolutely no blood at the crime scene. My Lieutenant rushed the investigation and closed the cases, listing them as unsolved or due to animal attacks as fast as he could. Without any real investigation conducted." He paused and took a hearty puff from his shortening cigar.

"I didn't like that so I returned to the latest crime scene to conduct my own investigation. One evening, I was accosted by six men. They just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and started talking about making me their lunch. That was the scariest moment in my career." He added as an after-thought.

"When I saw their heavy brows and ridged faces and fangs, I knew that coming there was a huge mistake. I pulled out my gun and shot in the air hoping that it would scare them away. It didn't. They just laughed. In my panic, I shot one of them in the heart. It didn't even faze the man. When I thought that they would really eat me, a young girl showed up and dealt with them singlehandedly and quickly. Their fight was over in a matter of minutes. The men were no match for that slip of a girl!"

"The men called her the slayer all throughout. I got a stern talking-to from her and a few tips on how to be careful against such beings at night. I never talked about this after that incident. Who would believe me anyway?" He said with a short, rueful chuckle. "I never knew her name. So did this answer your question?"

Buffy felt a relief when he told her about this. He believed her.

His next words shocked her a bit, "Now would you please tell me, why my granddaughter's face was sketched at the station, and wanted as a possible witness in several cases of abduction where victims suddenly show up saying that they saw you as their savior; and that when I called my only daughter, she was only able to give me a half-baked, nonsensical explanation that you're not home?" His voice was soft but his uneven gaze was firmly fixed on her.

Buffy squirmed in her seat and explained everything—why she ran away, how she got to LA, of her patrols downtown, how she got involved with the demon Ken's Family Shelter and her subsequent actions to shut it down.

She also told him how her disastrous revelation of the supernatural went with her parents; and became the reason for a special trip to an LA psychiatric facility following her expulsion in Hemery High.

All of this left her grandfather scowling.

He was an old cop and probably should have been a Police Commissioner or something, but he ferociously resisted being promoted. This didn't mean that he doesn't have influence over the LAPD. He became a legend in the force or even with other law enforcement agencies and his word has weight.

He hugged his granddaughter tightly before saying, "Now, listen carefully to what we're going to do. You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow morning, you'll come with me down to the station and we'll solve this nonsense of you being charged with murder. The Sunnydale police has always been known for incompetence and I'm sure that we'll have you cleared of any and all charges. Even presented with an apology very soon. Even if they had a case, which I highly doubt, you wouldn't need more than a freshly-graduated law student to tear it down. If things did become worse, I've several mean DA who owed me favors and who'd gladly take your defense and sue SDPD off their pants!"

He said with a smile, "Now it's quite late, so let's prepare you for bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day." With that, he slowly lifted himself off the couch and got extra pillows and blankets for Buffy at the guest room.

There was no judgment of any kind from her grandpa. He was just a patient ear that listened and a ready shoulder to lean on if needed.

Buffy never felt so grateful for having her grandfather not only taking her side, but also actively preparing to fight for her. She regretted that she hadn't had a closer contact with him before this debacle. So many things could have eased her difficult life with her grandfather in her corner.

In the morning, she woke up first and after a bit of rummaging through her memories, she managed to remember what her grandfather liked for breakfast. She quietly puttered about in the kitchen. Luckily even though she was a terrible cook, hard-boiled eggs and toast were something she could safely prepare.

The prepared breakfast was met with her grandfather's approval.

They both rode in his old, beat-up Peugeot and headed to the LAPD headquarters.

When they arrived at the LAPD, Buffy saw that though her grandfather was an old man, he was respected by the men who greeted him with a great amount of respect.

He sat her for a second at his former desk, and then headed to see his captain (one of his old students), to clear things up for a second.

A young woman came to the desk opposite his and planted her ass behind it. The nameplate on the table said that she was Sergeant Riley Cooper. She was a tall, lanky redhead with piercing blue eyes. She measured Buffy carefully. Before she could utter something, Buffy's granddad came back.

"Ahh…Sergeant Cooper! Good, you're here. This is my granddaughter Buffy. Buffy this here is Sergeant Cooper. Sergeant, could I use that computer for a bit of a search?" He said jovially.

Sergeant Cooper looked curiously at Buffy, but did as she was told.

Buffy's granddad while waiting, made a few phone calls. He called the missing persons unit of Sunnydale PD to find out about their search for Buffy.

He then called the LAPD section handling the kidnappings of the homeless and street people and the related case of the Family Shelter.

Then next came the LAPD's patrol and detectives unit. After he was assured that they didn't have any charges against Buffy, he gently told them to let the search of this mysterious blonde savior be.

Meanwhile, Riley started a nearby computer and do a search as her lieutenant ordered her. She found an APB issued by the most incompetent police department in the country. Looking for one Buffy Summers, wanted for being a suspect in a murder case.

The whole report gave little sense and there has been something strange about it too. She gave it to the lieutenant, who skimmed it through, scowled and called it rubbish.

Buffy's grandfather dialed the SDPD Chief Munroe.

Buffy observed in awe as her grandfather politely introduced himself to the Chief of Sunnydale PD, asked for information about her case and politely listened on what was being said from the other line.

After a few moments, he asked "Oh so you're saying sir that she was at the library, beside the dead body on the ground when it happened? Uhhmm… and then…uhuh…oh I see."

"There's something that bothers me though. You see, how did you establish that Buffy Summers killed the teenager at the library that night? How do you explain and how could you disregard the testimonies of the librarian and several students hospitalized after the incident—clearly saying that there was an attack by members of a gang on PCP that night, with that poor teen as the casualty?"

Buffy's grandfather asked calmly. "Do you have DNA evidence? Crime-scene analysis? "

"Oh…so it was upon the word of a reputable member of the community? This Principal Snyder, you say Sir?"

He still spoke politely and calmly, nary a raised voice, "Uhmm…one more thing about that though. You said so yourself that he came from his office when you arrived and that he called you because of a disturbance he heard coming from the library. How could you be sure that he was a reliable witness? Was he in the area the whole time? He only heard about the disturbance, am I right? He didn't see it firsthand then the whole time. He called you up you said, as soon as he heard the ruckus. Calling and talking on the phone with your department would have made him not in the library while the ruckus as you say happen! Those several minutes were vital to accurately piece together the event. So he was not a witness at all!"

"Uhhm… now indulge me here, Sir. I think this was what happened. Some members of a PCP gang decided to enter the school and wreak havoc for unknown reasons yet. There was a ruckus at the library when they attacked. This principal—Mr Snyder—valuing his life, decided to report to the police and waited for your police officers to arrive. Now, he and your officers hurried to the source of the disturbance and happened upon a female teen kneeling beside a corpse on the library floor. Despite the teen being unarmed and attesting to her innocence and her presence there, your officers pointed guns at her and shouted at her to surrender."

"Now, your so-called reputable member of the community, verbally admitted his dislike of Buffy Summers and that the killing that night would be the opportunity at last for him to be rid of the thorn on his side. That was clearly recounted Sir. Even your officers mentioned that specifically. One more thing too. Did you know that Mr. Snyder has shown extreme mistreatment, bordering on harassment and bullying on Buffy Summers and 2 other students since last year? Students at Sunnydale High School were quite vocal with that. No? You would have found out if your officers did their job well." This he said vehemently.

"Not to mention the uncharacteristically close relationship of Principal Snyder with the Office of the Mayor…Oh I did my homework Sir, and I made sure I know everything." Buffy's grandfather's voice became a little bit stronger.

He proceeded to state as if he was talking about the weather, "The way I see this, you had no real evidence against Buffy Summers or even a case. You've done your utmost incompetence in processing the crime scene and investigating this murder and attack. You lazily depended upon a questionable witness. I could go on and on about this. Not only that, because of extreme damage to the reputation of Buffy Summers, who was falsely accused and maligned by your department's incompetence, I would be bringing this to the State authorities, the District Attorney's office. Aside from Ms Summers suing you for damages to her reputation. I do hope you're ready to face this onslaught, Sir. I would only stop if you immediately cease this parody of an investigation and withdraw this senseless case against Buffy Summers. Make no mistake about it, Sir; I always remain true to my word. I haven't dilly-dallied in my years with the force."

Buffy's grandfather ended the call gruffly and sternly. She could see the kind of iron will and dogged determination that has made her grandfather the bane of many criminal's existence through the years.

Her grandfather dialed another number and called an old friend. That friend as it turned out, was a federal prosecutor for Central California and enlisted his help for Buffy. When he was finished, he grinned at his granddaughter. Saying, "All was going to be all right."

Buffy found an acute appreciation for her grandfather at this point. It felt so good that for once, someone was there fighting for her.

After his phone calls, Buffy's grandfather told her that she could go back to the apartment since he still had a few things that he needed to finish at the station.

She begged him so that she could stay and tagged along with him for the rest of the day instead. She was supremely curious and very much liked to observe him as he worked. She promised to not be troublesome.

At the end of the day, she understood why he was so revered, with his sharp sense of detail, keen intellect and acting skill—with which he showed his bumbling idiot routine. No wonder that most of his adversaries underestimated him.

After going home that evening and over a hefty dinner of chili con carne and tasty dinner rolls, she had another long talk with her granddad.

Subsequently with her mother too on the phone. They discussed so many things and issues between them that night and reconciled. It wouldn't do well for Joyce to remain in denial of her daughter's mystical calling. This would be a time when a mother's support meant so much to ease Buffy's heavily-burdened life. Joyce's father sternly told her so.

In the end, Buffy decided to stay the rest of her summer with her grandfather, soaking in as much as she could from him.

By the time she returned to Sunnydale, she had a clear-cut image of her future in mind. Working in the law enforcement, even with the FBI, was a very viable option for her.

Joyce made sure to visit and verify with Sunnydale PD of the clearing of Buffy's name now that her daughter's back home.

Snyder proved a cowed individual when faced with Joyce Summer's wrath. The protective mother railroaded Snyder's prohibition of Buffy Summers' re-entry to Sunnydale High School. Oh how Buffy loved seeing Snyder's constipated face!

The Schoolyear

Buffy started to work even harder to get good if not the best marks. Just like her grandfather's perseverance and determination, she realized she would have to persevere in all things, even the ones she didn't like so much—reading and research!

She gathered surreptitiously the required and not-so-required books for early and advance reading at home. Somehow she felt uncomfortable in anyone knowing what she was doing. She hadn't felt inclined to share this with Willow or Xander openly.

Clearly, what happened that night at the mansion changed something fundamental in her relationship with the two teens.

Despite looking at the way Fate dished out things at her the previous months, she had the slightest bit of guilt over so many things brought on by Angelus. She knows rationally no one could know about how the curse would turn out. Had Jenny said something about it, she would definitely stayed away. Or how the late teacher should have known better than to be alone at the school at night. Not being informed about the re-ensouling spell. Again, she could list so many things. And because of it all, she couldn't go back to feel for the Scoobies what she felt for them before. Something gave.

One afternoon

"Miss Summers, could you remain behind please?" Miss Wyatt, their History teacher asked that afternoon.

Buffy nervously agreed. Willow's anxious face clearly showed she felt bad for Buffy. Xander was patting her back.

When they were the only ones in the room, Miss Wyatt spoke "Miss Summers, don't be frightened. I was just so glad you decided to exert more effort in your grades for this semester. I knew you could do it, but somehow you were letting teenage distractions get in the way of your studies. I really liked this paper you wrote on Native American Justice-Spirit Beliefs. I'd like for you to present it to class on Monday."

Buffy balked at that, "Oh, uhmm Miss Wyatt, uhmm, thank you for seeing my efforts. But uhhmm, I really couldn't speak in front of a crowd. I'm sorry but please, don't let me present. I would willingly do another paper for extra credit, just not a presentation." She was nervously waiting for the teacher's response. She really did not want her newfound focus on her studies to be common knowledge, even to her best friends. She just wanted to do it the way her grandfather did—utterly low-key. It wouldn't benefit anyone really.

"Who could tell me how colors such as paints or crayons were being made? Hmm, no one? Come on, this is easy guys. Let's see, how about…Miss Summers?"

Buffy gathered her thoughts before answering, " I've only briefly looked on the subject so sorry if this is too simplistic. From what I understood, the colors were always in powder form. From minerals from the earth, stones or plant-life. What makes these colors usable would be the addition of a binding agent such as wax, glue, solvent, into the pigment to form a mixture. This was the case in crayons, paint, watercolor…"

Buffy droned on what she understood about the paint-making and crayon-making process.

Willow and Xander just sat a gaped at Buffy. Way to go Buff!

When asked by Willow later how erudite she was at something so science-y, Buffy nonchalantly answered that she watched a TV documentary about colors, became intrigued and subsequently read. No biggie.

She started taking to heart her grandfather's traits. She felt she could do no wrong in doing what has clearly worked for her grandfather.

She had his bumbling-idiot routine down pat with her blonde bimbo act especially in her slaying and if she wanted to get out of a boring Giles' lecture or a research session. No need to work on that.

"Buffy I'm so glad you've been tremendously focusing on our meditation techniques. Tomorrow, we would work on your swordplay."

Buffy beamed at that. Her martial skills were moving along just fine. It was fortunate that Giles didn't ask anything in particular about how Buffy showed aptitude by leaps and bounds these past weeks with her slayer senses and combat techniques.

Without Giles' knowledge, Buffy made a makeshift training room in their basement and trained an hour at least before patrolling every night. Joyce was all too glad to help her hunt in LA for secondhand equipment like a pommel horse and a punching bags of a variety of sizes. They even got a second hand wing chun wooden dummy for Buffy to practice her martial skills on.

Why all these secrecy? She couldn't in good conscience trust them again. The whole painful Acathla incident left such a profound sense of betrayal in her that Buffy felt she needed to hold back some things. Plus, her own small amount of guilt no matter how baseless it was.

That in the long run, it would be better if she practiced what made her grandfather tick—keeping her talents and abilities in the background as much as she could; maintaining a low profile; being low-key. It wouldn't hurt anyone. She wouldn't let it hurt anyone.

Gone was her oblivious valley girl cluelessness, except when warranted like in slaying. Oh she could still be perky and lively Buffy, up to a point.

It proved to be a double-edged sword as time went by. 'Did the scoobies always think this way about her?' Buffy mused one particular slow night of patrolling. "That I'm this pretty but, not so bright girl? Clueless and self-centered most of the time? The typical, stereotype of the perennial blonde? Huh. Maybe they're gullible or just so trusting that they took my actions and words at face value?"

Time would tell if she'd trust them again, enough to let them in on her secrets. This way, she won't hurt them or herself needlessly. It pays to be careful in the long run.

She kept in close contact with her Grandfather, to Joyce's wonder and amusement. Buffy felt anxious too about her Grandpa all alone at LA.

"Mom, could we visit Grandpa this Saturday? Come on, I know you missed him too. We could make it an out-of-town bonding trip you know. It's more inexpensive than the Mall!"

Several weeks after her return, she covertly read through Giles collection and managed to find out the slayer who saved her grandfather's life that autumn in 1957.

She was Serafiina Vesa a native of Turku in Finland. Buffy was saddened that she only survived six months after being called. She sent these details to her grandfather with a sketch and a copy of the girl's photograph.

"Thanks for the stake B…"

"Oh it makes me hungry and horny you know…"

Faith, the new slayer called after Kendra, turned out to be a wild card with a good heart.

After they dealt with Kakistos, his minions, and Faith's trust issues, Buffy found a good friend in her.

Being the only one in the entire world, who could understand the slayer calling, she later considered the Boston native as a confidante.

Soon the two slayers even found two reliable allies in Willow's werewolf ex-boyfriend Oz and in the shy Wiccan Tara Maclay.

Buffy met Tara one night while she was going home late from a house-hunting that day. She would be enrolling at the University of Sunnydale and decided to familiarize herself with an advanced campus tour. Being new, she didn't know the sort of nightlife the town has.

Buffy felt a deep affinity ever since Oz became a Scooby. She put it on a residual impression of Angua's psyche, being a powerful werewolf herself.

She felt the deep hurt that Oz carried when Willow and Xander betrayed him and Cordelia.

This didn't help Willow and Xander's case with Buffy. She always felt strongly about betrayal. It was rooted in her father's cheating ways and her parent's divorce. To witness firsthand her two best friends doing it to her other best friend and close friend, was most painful. She always reasoned that if you didn't love the girl/boy like that anymore, better let go than do things indiscreetly. Plus her grandparents' lives were an example of how faith and loyalty works.

From then on, she felt more free and comfortable in Oz and Tara's company than her earlier best friends.

Maybe because she had grown up so much now? She had seen things differently.

Willow and Xander's perspective on things no longer applies to her. Certainly, neither were their normal hangout activities. So no matter how the two told her how she had changed and how much; sulked and demanded from her, Buffy calmly told them she has grown up and that they would understand because they would too, eventually. That it didn't mean they're not friends anymore. Just that Buffy gained some more. There's room for so many people in Buffy's heart.

Plus, they should ease up, after all life in the hellmouth was a challenge daily, without the whole angst added.

And the ultimate proof that Buffy Summers indeed started to grow up that Halloween and subsequent summer?

As soon as she could, she dropped her last name Summers to honor the man that finished for the most part what Angua began that fateful Halloween night-turned her life 180 degrees for the better.

She adopted her grandfather's last name:

Columbo.