Pathways

Ch 3 – Sunnydale Days

Lt. Stein sat staring at his desk as the sun broke over the horizon. It was going to be another gorgeous day, though of course, most of it he would spend in bed. The price he paid for being in charge of the night shift's investigations. Right now a folder of one of those investigations sat on his desk, opened to a blurry photo caught with a private eye's camera who was working nearby. It was the folder for the still unsolved arson case. Under this sat another folder, this one belonging to another case in town from a few years back. In both cases gasoline was involved and both buildings had been abandoned at the time.

That's where the similarities ended. In the latest case it was a tenement building and involved a gas can of fuel. The old factory fire was caused by what appeared to have been Molotov cocktails. Still the lieutenant was fairly certain the two were related.

He stared at the blurry photo and sighed with indecision. He knew what his duty was, but Sunnydale wasn't like other towns. The figure in the photo, though unclear, was one he was so familiar with, he recognized her immediately. Ms. Elizabeth Anne Summers; trouble maker…or so he'd always thought. But Carole, his recent wife, had pointed out things to him lately.

He quickly shoved the 'Buffy Folder' into his briefcase and left the office. On the drive home he picked up a fresh cup of coffee and a cream éclair for the missus, the entire way thinking of one thing. Professional duty versus Benefit of the Doubt? The things that Carole had brought to his attention…they seemed insane, but how else did you explain the weird things he'd seen with his own eyes over the years since moving here? The lab had never been able to explain just how large parts of some type of reptile appeared in the rubble of the old High School. Also unanswered was how witness statements could have been so outlandish, and yet so detailed and corroborating. He didn't believe in the half-hearted 'mass hysteria' explanation that the Police Chief had thrown out.

As he pulled up in front of his home, he noted again the large crucifix hanging on the outer door. He'd questioned the bizarre custom that his wife had insisted on upon her moving in with him, but she'd only said it made her feel safer. When he suggested the neighbors would think they were weird, she'd said, 'the neighbors will be kicking themselves for not thinking about it themselves.' And sure enough, within the following few months, he'd noted that everyone on their block had taken to hanging the cross on their doors. It was then that Carole had started to tell him tales of her childhood in Sunnydale and what she'd come to notice the older she'd gotten. It had been slow, but over the last fourteen months, she'd gotten him to begin noticing and questioning the strange disappearances that no one seemed eager to solve, the odd noises that sounded like no animals he was familiar with, and the odd number of bodies that turned up completely drained of blood. In any other city they'd have had the Feds in with a Satanic Cultist task force looking into these things, but here, no one had even suggested it…including him!

After kissing his wife and turning over her morning 'I love you' package, he went immediately to his den. Getting out the folder again, he stared at the petite blond girl that always seemed to be at the center of violent goings-on. And yet, everyone he'd ever spoken with had insisted that she'd saved their lives. Those witness statements had always…without exception, turned out to be vague accounts of danger and Buffy Summers helping them. No matter what questions he would ask however, details never seemed to be forthcoming and months later, it was like the alleged near victims barely remembered what had happened to them. Again, it was entirely beyond any sort of sense and yet he'd never even questioned it. Not until Carole came into his life and opened his eyes to the weirdness.

It was then that his wife entered his office, following their comforting morning routine. She sat opposite him and set down his tea and buttered toast. In front of herself, she had the coffee and pastry he'd brought her. She spent a few minutes asking about his night, whether he'd stayed safe and mentioning her plans for her elementary students today. It was then, that he slipped the photo toward her.

"Have you ever seen this girl," he asked curiously. He had the distinct feeling she'd say 'yes'.

"I-I don't know, hon. This picture is so blurry," she frowned. She pulled the photo up to her face in order to peer closer at it. "She seems vaguely familiar, but I can't be sure. Why?"

"This was taken near that tenement arson I'm investigating. Her name is Buffy. You've heard me mention her before in weird cases."

"Right, right. The violent young woman who seems to be anywhere that 'Sunnydale Weirdness' has occurred?"

"Exactly. I find myself wrestling with something, baby. With this photo, I've enough to drag her in for questioning, but…."

"You've never been able to make anything stick before. And there's a good reason for that, I'm sure."

"I'm a police officer! I have a duty."

Carole Stein sighed at her husband. One of the frustrating things for him is that so many of his cases went unsolved…many of which involved this exact young woman. "Rick, you can't drag her into this mess."

"How can I not," he asked her seriously. He knew how she felt about the girl and he'd started to think that whatever was happening in this town, it was because of the Summers woman that it wasn't a whole lot worse, but his duty was clear.

"I can only tell you what you've already heard me say in the past. If she was behind that arson, it was because it needed to be done. People are more likely than not alive because she did it. You know I can't explain why I feel the way I do, it's just intuition. But Rick, I know this…deep in my heart, I know that she's here to help us."

He looked over at his wife with a deep sigh. He'd always been the model officer; always played by the rules and followed the law to a 'T'. He'd never used a little too much force, or allowed a woman's cleavage to distract him from doing what was right, what the law expected him to do as its representative.

Lt. Stein sat up from his desk and walked over to a small box sitting in the corner of the room after retrieving the photo from his wife. Turning the small box on, he listened for a moment to the whine of its gears as he stared again at the incriminating photo in his hands. And then he did something he'd never done before and never would have thought himself capable of: he destroyed evidence. Slipping the photo into the shredder, he watched it disappear. He'd have to talk to the private detective who'd given him the picture, but the man was also a life long resident of Sunnydale, just like Carole. He had a feeling the guy would be cooperative. No one would ever tie the Summers girl to the fire and it would just be another crime, like the arson at the factory, to be unsolved.

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Buffy came into the kitchen feeling restless and exhausted. Her mother was due to be up at any moment, so she started the coffee and retrieved a cereal bowl and the box for Dawnie. Flipping on the radio, she adjusted the volume so that it was a comforting background noise and then stood and watched the black brew drip its way into the coffee pot.

Ever since January 1st had come and gone, she'd been on edge. Glory had told her that she was going to play hard ball once the holidays were over with and Buffy expected her to crash into the house at any minute. Every squeak or pop had her snapping awake and jumping from her bed in the middle of the night. Whenever she heard Dawn on her way to the bathroom at four-thirty, like clockwork, she had to grab the mattress not to rush out into the hall and see if it was Glory.

The Knights had been easier to deal with. Quinton had pulled some strings and a few agents had already taken five of the men into custody. Unfortunately, the yacht that the men were using was anchored in international waters and beyond the government's jurisdiction and just yesterday, she'd see two of the guys going tomb to tomb with a guy in robes. No doubt, he'd be one of their mystics, trying to locate the Key.

The distractions were causing her school work to suffer and she'd again broached the subject of quitting for now. And again, Joyce had put her foot down. Buffy was to have a life outside of killing things and her mother wasn't going to stand for her just quitting when things got stressful.

Buffy went along with it because Joyce didn't need anymore stress. She already had dark circles under her eyes again and had complained about a headache or two. Not tumor headaches, just the regular kind, but they were wearing on her nerves. She admitted to Buffy that she was always looking over her shoulder at the gallery, afraid that Glory would visit and start threatening her and Sheila.

It was like watching a hurricane roll in and figuring out it was too late to evacuate, Joyce had said and Buffy had agreed. She hadn't bothered pointing out that it wasn't too late for her mother to leave town since she already knew the answer to that.

They were also all worried about the people that were in the Summers orbit. Glory could decide to go after any, all or none of them, too. For Joyce, it was worry for Sheila and Brian that occupied her most; she was used to Buffy taking care of herself and the gang. Dawn's safety preyed on her thoughts when she was at school and she only felt better when she was home in her sight. For that reason, there'd been a lot less going out at night. Janice had been spending a lot more time in the Summers home, instead. As was Brian; the dates out for dinner had come to an end for the most part, though he didn't seem to complain any.

Giles was also deeply worried. Not for himself, despite being Buffy's Watcher. He'd grown accustomed to being in danger because of his job. No, his concern was for Lavinia. Such concern, in fact, that he'd stopped seeing her. It caused concern among the Scooby gang, especially Willow and Xander that he was closing himself off from companionship, but they also understood. Giles had lost Jenny because Angel had wanted to hurt Buffy and him. He couldn't have another woman lost in the crossfire, especially one who had no idea of the dangers she might be facing.

Although she completely understood his reasoning, it broke Tara's heart to see him isolate himself. She was just relieved that all of her loved ones were already aware and involved in the danger. She couldn't imagine how horrible it must be to have family at risk and not be able to tell them about it. She didn't know how Buffy had managed for the first two years, or how Xander and Willow continued to keep things secret even as they went to pains to caution her family or his work mates.

Back in the kitchen of the Summers home, the Salsa music was interrupted by a local new bulletin. Buffy hushed Dawn, who was babbling about how stupid English homework was and turned up the radio. The Sunnydale Train Depot was the site of the report and there had been victims of an unknown assailant found on board. All three women sighed.

"I gotta go," Buffy told them as she kissed Joyce on the cheek.

"Buffy, I'd feel better if you didn't go alone, just till you're sure it wasn't Glory."

Dawn perked up her ears at this but stayed still and silent. She was still looking for a way to pick up on what Glory was looking for and if it had anything to do with the scary, crazy people around her.

"I'll call Xander on the way and have him meet me there. But I'll be okay, mom. This sounds more like it's going to be vampires than her."

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End Chapter 3