"Now? I think now is the time to get as far from Sunnydale as we can. That school sounds good," Tara mused. "It's not that you haven't been good friends or that I don't appreciate everything, but…"
"But you're afraid that something will eat you?" Anya offered.
"Or worse. There's things far worse than being killed and maybe eaten by some monster, or even eaten and then killed. Like being taken by those guys after Charlie, or turned into a vampire. Seeing everybody I care about beaten to keep me in line," Tara whispered, her eyes not focused on anything in the apartment. "There are things worse than death."
"The ones who really know what they're doing don't have to beat your nearest and dearest up to control you. They either become your nearest and dearest or leave you knowing that if you don't do what they want, they'll hurt or kill people. The threat can become as powerful as if they hit your father, and drugs can do far more than hitting someone. Drugs can make what they want seem reasonable, good. It makes it so very easy to listen to them and let them do all the thinking."
Xander glanced at Tara and Anya, both of whom were gaping at Charlie. He thought about what she'd just said and the fragments of what the Soldier from that Halloween had remembered, and shivered. "Is that the voice of experience?"
"They caught me once," Charlie admitted.
"What happened?" Tara reached out, her hand settling beside Charlie's.
"Did they… I know some spells that can make their insides writhe like serpents. Or there's this interesting one that feels remarkably like their abdominal cavity's been stuffed full of natron while their brains are pulled out through their nostrils with bronze hooks… Gods those Egyptians were creative. Or flesh-eating scarabs. Maybe a simple disease to make their flesh rot and fall off, starting with their penises," Anya's voice faded into thoughtful silence.
"In case you're still with the scary visual place, that's Anya offering helpful vengeance. She's a bit graphic at times, but I don't know what I'd do without her," Xander hugged Anya, keeping her pulled against him.
"I was seven. They shot us with tranquilizers, kept us locked in separate rooms and fed us pills to make us cooperate. Lots of happy pills to make it too hard to think at first and then too cheerful to be angry or worried. The same people who killed my mom. And then they made a few offers. If I'd answer some questions, I could go out into the gardens. I could ride the horses. And even better, by showing them what I could do, by doing a few little tests, I could learn to control it, it wouldn't be the scary, strange ability that had frightened my Daddy. And there was a guy who was nice, who talked to me and wasn't afraid, a guy who made me think he was my friend." Charlie wasn't looking at them, and her hand had closed around Tara's.
"I don't know too many girls who didn't like horses at seven," Tara nodded.
"Let me guess, they told you… no, the guy who seemed so nice told you that if someone didn't cooperate, they'd decided that your Daddy was just deadweight and then they'd kill him. You had to give a little to keep him alive. And if you told them what you'd do, then they weren't really controlling everything, you could turn things around?" Xander's voice seemed older, and there was something different about the way he shaped his words.
Charlie nodded with a small sniff. "I'm not going to ask how you knew that."
"I will. How did you know all that? I mean, it's the perfect way to manipulate someone, and pretty sneaky," Anya twisted around, giving Xander a quick kiss. "I like sneaky and smart, we could go back to our room…"
"It's the Hellmouth learning curve, and we can go back later, sweetie. I'd rather wait until we don't have company. People can be scum sometimes, and it's really disappointing to know that it's not just evil mayors and vampire overlords."
"I think they can keep us safer there than we are here. And maybe they can figure out why Mystique was so interested in my family. And if I go there, they'll understand the part about not wanting to see my relatives ever again. Some of them at least," Tara stammered.
"You think we'll be safer there, or you know? You are the one who said she got visions," Charlie asked, glancing at her hand and lifting it to look at Tara's fingertips. "Will they find me there?"
"I don't know," Tara blushed, her thumb curling over Charlie's hand. "But I'd like to not have to hide myself anymore. To be able to just be me and not hide what I can do, to not worry that I'll be called a freak."
"Not to have everybody afraid of me because of what I can do," Charlie agreed.
"If I still had…" Anya's words were cut off by Xander's hand over her mouth.
"That's not a conversation for here and now. We don't need to scare Charlie with too much about the Hellmouth all at once, do we?" Looking over at Charlie, he continued, "You aren't the first female hanging around who could hurt someone easily. Buffy could break me in half without breaking a sweat. Willow's got the magic, and I have no idea what all she could do with that. Willow… let's just say there's a guy out there with an amazing personality change thanks to Willow, and I don't ever want to get on her bad side. Another witch we knew turned someone into a rat once, and later ratted herself. I may not have power, but I'm used to having people around who do."
"All that and he's a nice guy," Tara whispered. "If not for the fact that Anya's got him and he's not my type, I'd go for him. I don't know how many people I've heard say they'd like a guy like that."
"So, why isn't he your type? He's got a job, he's fairly smart, a nice guy, not afraid of someone being different; what more could you ask for?" Charlie arched one eyebrow.
"I'd like all that in a more feminine package," Tara whispered, her cheeks pink as she ducked her head, hiding behind her hair.
Xander just rubbed his temples, now understanding why Giles polished his glasses so much. "A lesbian. Tara's a lesbian… no, a lesbian, mutant witch. Okaaay."
"Is that a problem?" Anya asked, then frowned, "Wait, you're mine. She can't have you even if she wasn't a lesbian."
"No, I was actually thinking that Tara being a lesbian is a big improvement over someone thinking I'm a nice guy but they're some sort of carnivorous demon who wants to feed me to her spawn or she thinks I'm great but she just wants to suck the life out of my friends so we can go to the party that evening. Comparatively, the fact that Tara likes girls instead of guys is pretty minor," Xander shrugged.
"And I have the feeling there are some strange stories behind that statement," Charlie muttered.
"I get that feeling a lot with them," Tara agreed.
"I just wish that those people would know what it's like to be chased and hunted by someone who just wants to use you as a tool or kill you," Charlie grumbled.
"Gra… damn, I can't do it like that anymore," Anya complained. "I still might be able to manage something."
"Wait, didn't the police say something about one of them going to the hospital after getting bit by that dog? The dog that was really the Oz-wolf?" Xander started to grin. "I think they might get a few ideas about being chased. I wonder what happened to that guy who wanted to sell werewolf pelts to Nepal?"
End part 63.
Riley Finn knew that he had a few faults – everybody had some. He just didn't agree that being a morning person was one of them. Sunrises were peaceful, a sign of new beginnings. Since joining the Initiative, they were also a sign that he'd survived another night. The early mornings were good times to think.
He'd been thinking about two major things; Buffy, and the Initiative. Buffy was pretty, interesting, and completely different from anyone he'd dated before. He didn't even have the words to describe her, but he wanted to learn more. As for the Initiative, the idea was good – defend against scary things that most people didn't even know existed. But the things that Forrest had uncovered were horrible. They were supposed to protect, not kidnap just because someone was different, not torture something to death because it had fur, or scales, or bled a different color.
The goal of the Initiative didn't seem to match what he'd been told the goal was. He couldn't just walk away; not only were there oaths and responsibilities and legal issues, he couldn't stand the idea of abandoning people to some of the dangers that he knew were out there. Maybe not so much the mutants, but the vampires and those slimy things that had been digging up bodies in the cemeteries and that fish-thing that they'd caught at the docks - those were dangers that needed eliminated. There were a lot of people who couldn't defend themselves, and he wanted to help defend them.
Which was supposed to be Buffy's mission. What sort of demented world was he living in where monsters were real, his tiny girlfriend was supposed to slay them, and the scientists of the United States military were doing things that might have made Hitler proud? The world was all cracked up.
He still wanted to date Buffy, monster-hunting or no monster hunting, assuming that she'd have him.
"Stop thinking about her, Romeo," Forrest's voice came from the porch.
Riley turned to look, startled at the very idea of Forrest being awake near dawn. One look assured him that Forrest hadn't become a morning person, the bloodshot eyes and slight drooping of his posture left no doubt that Forrest just hadn't gotten to bed yet. "Busy with papers, or busy thinking?"
"Both. Damn if I know how you haven't gone around the bend from all the paperwork," Forrest shook his head as he leaned against the porch railing. "Maybe it's a benefit of working with the Psych department. Some of what's going on… it's ugly. It's ugly and I don't understand how it can be approved of in America."
"What else?" Riley knew that Forrest was thinking about more than just what was going on right now. Forrest thought too much sometimes, and not enough at others. Not nearly enough when it came to women.
"If we… they… with what's going on right now, assuming that it is officially ordered and approved, what's going to be going on next year? Two years from now? Five? Ten? Is this the way people felt in Berlin when Hitler first started coming to power? He said that if he ran things, he'd rebuild the German economy and make their nation strong. He just didn't say that it would be built on dead bodies and fueled by suffering. Now, our leaders are saying they'll fix the economy and take care of the mutant problem. I just hope they don't mean the same thing as when Hitler said he'd take care of the Jewish problem."
"Damn, those are ugly thoughts. No wonder you can't sleep," Riley said. He didn't know what the future held, and he didn't like what Forrest had already said, what he'd seen. "Too bad I don't have any answers for you."
"What do you know?" Forrest shoved at his arm, trying to grin. "With that big head of yours, there'd better be something in it."
Riley glanced towards the college, and sighed, "Most freshmen psych papers are crap, half of them don't follow directions, and I'd still like a chance for things to work out with Buffy. And Douglas Adams claims that The Answer, to Life, the Universe and Everything is forty two."
"Yeah, forty two. But what's the question?" Forrest grinned, and this time it was a real smile. "The measurements of the Galactic Playmate centerfold?"
"I don't know. Why don't you go get some sleep," Riley pushed his friend back towards the dorm.
Maybe things had a chance after all. Buffy and her friends had a plan, hopefully a good one. He'd be there for Forrest, and with luck, Buffy's plan would bring a stop to the horrible things. And then he could take Buffy to a movie Friday. A guy could dream.
End part 64.
Rupert Giles hadn't expected to see anybody else's jackets hanging on his coat-rack when he went towards the kitchen. Expectations aside, there was Willow's jacket, and another one that he didn't recognize. Willow's laptop was tucked under the coffee table, with Willow herself draped in his recliner and someone else under a blanket on the couch, with fuzzy blue socks sticking out from under the blanket's end.
He wasn't about to try to get answers before he'd had his morning tea. Not considering the situations that his children often found themselves neck-deep in. Considering that there was no evidence that the first-aide kit had been used, things should be able to wait that long at least.
Buffy had called him at a dreadful hour, reporting that she and Scott had returned from their evening walk, and that things had gone as expected. She'd then added that her mom wasn't in, and had demanded to know if her mom had been out late with 'that guy' on a date.
Being a Watcher demanded at least some level of intelligence, and surviving on the Hellmouth demanded sense. Heeding both qualities, he had refused to get into an argument with Buffy over her mother's dating or whatever else she might be doing, and had only said that he'd heard nothing from her that night, but he was sure she could handle at least a basic level of safety, considering that Buffy had sworn she'd explained everything needed to do so.
Buffy and Scott had intended to lead the soldiers to the location of a large gathering of demons and vampires, and he was relieved that they had managed to do so safely. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the patrol had been calm, though she'd said something about the beach before amending her statement to a claim that she'd explain it all tomorrow, or rather this afternoon. He could only hope that it would be that simple.
No sooner had he poured himself his first cup of tea than the telephone rang. Lifting the receiver, he offered, "Rupert Giles speaking. Who is calling?"
'Mister Giles, my name is Paul Blaisdell. I'm an officer with the Sunnydale police department, and I'm calling in connection to an incident that occurred at your store last night. The Magic Box? One of the witnesses mentioned your name,' the man's voice was slightly familiar.
"Yes, I do own the store. What happened, Officer Blaisdell?" Rupert sipped at his tea, wondering if this was going to be one of those wretchedly interesting and eventful days. "I believe Anya was supposed to be there, working. You mentioned that there were others?"
'Yes, one Xander Harris, who is apparently Miss Emerson's fiancé, a college student named Tara MacClay, and Tara's friend Charlie…. I don't seem to have a last name for her. About five seven, blond hair and blue eyes? Do you recognize those names?'
"Xander is indeed Anya's fiancé, and I'm not surprised that they were both there. I haven't known Tara quite as long, she seems rather quiet. I've been talking about hiring another clerk, she might have been there talking to Anya about some of the finer details… What happened at my shop?" Giles rubbed at his temple, hoping that his words would provide a cover for the teens. Normally, any half-plausible excuse was seized, he wasn't sure if it was because the police didn't want to try to explain the things they saw or if they didn't want to believe what they had seen and were just as desperate for a new explanation as some of the teens at the high school. If the police had been involved… Oh dear, last night was the full moon. He hadn't mentioned Oz at all, had the werewolf gotten loose?
'From the evidence and the interviews with the witnesses, it seems there was an attempted burglary that went wrong. Several currently unidentified men have been taken into custody, and there was some property damage. Miss Emerson has already started the proceedings for the insurance claim. And someone appears to have had a rather large and temperamental dog inside the store, which escaped and bit several of the burglars.'
"Oh dear," he sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "I'm certain that Anya can handle the insurance matters, she's quite capable in all regards that involve money. That's why she does the accounting as well. I'll have to speak to them about the matter of a dog."
'Mister Giles, can you think of any particular reason that your store would have been a target?"
"Other than the cash register, there's nothing particularly…" Rupert paused, his mind trying to sort through quickly. The 'unidentified men' probably weren't vampires, but if they had specifically attacked his store, they must have been after something. Could they have been seeking magical artifacts or ritual materials? Or… maybe they had been more of the people chasing Charlie? Damn, that wouldn't be a good answer at all. He'd best try something and hope that it worked. "Some of the herbs that we sell may cause mild hallucinations if the fumes are inhaled. Others have reputations that exceed their abilities. Could the burglars have been seeking those?"
'I suppose that's a very good possibility, Mister Giles. We'd like for you to come down to the station and give us a proper report, and have someone accompany you to the store so that you can give us a report of anything missing or damaged. Miss Emerson gave one, but it would be nice to have a second one on file.'
"Yes, of course. Give me a half hour and I'll be there," he took a large swallow of the tea, wincing at the temperature.
It wasn't until the officer hung up that he realized what else had been said. Several of the burglars had been bit by 'a large dog' that was probably Oz, transformed. That couldn't be a good thing. "Blast."
"Giles?" Willow's voice was still sleepy, and she shuffled into view, her hair sticking up in strange directions. "Who was that?"
"Officer Paul Blaisdell of the police. Something happened, they believe it was an attempted burglary at the Magic Box. I need to go talk to them, and you need to find Oz. Apparently, someone had a rather large dog in the shop last night," Rupert finished the tea, and sighed. "This was supposed to be a quiet day."
"In Sunnydale?" Willow shook her head, floating another tea cup out of the cupboard. "Optimist."
"Yes, well… I should be back later. Buffy mentioned something about the beach, be sure that she explains if I'm a while with the police," and with that, he set out for the car.
It was days like this that he wondered why he didn't just go back to England.
End part 65.