Chapter Thirty-six: Reset, Take Three – Command Decisions -
Saturday, November 1, 1997: South Marion Drive Sunnydale Medical Complex, Sunnydale, Night 12:55am –
"All right," Joyce Summers said, finally releasing her younger daughter, "It's time to get you home, young lady. Past time."
"No mom, it's not," Dawn said, taking a step back.
"Don't you 'no, mom' me, Dawn Summers," Joyce said. "You say good bye to your friends and get in that car right now."
"No. Mom. Not. Yet," Dawn said, her eyes narrowing. "You really don't understand – "
"We are not having this discussion," Joyce said. "It is not a discussion, because this is not a democracy."
"Um, Mrs. Summers?" Carlos said, "I think you really need to hear Dawn and Beverly out."
"And you! Carlos, your family is worried sick about you! And where's your dad, and Becky's older sister?"
"That's kind of what we're trying to tell you, ma'am," Carlos said.
Dawn nodded. "Carlos' dad turned into a real Santa Elf, rose up through the Mall skylight, and flew away in a sled."
"With eight medium sized reindeer. And Becky's sis turned into a cowardly lion, saw us, screamed, and ran off," Carlos finished.
"Which I still say has our story beat all to heck," Misty said, grinning.
Joyce stared at them, her mouth half open. She was stuck halfway between telling Dawn and Carlos to quit telling fibs, and halfway past remembering her talk with Giles, Angel, and Daniel, err, Jesse. The, uh, formerly dead Jesse... "That's really not funny, young lady."
"No, it really, really isn't," Dawn said, nodding.
Michael and Michelle were watching them carefully and with obvious curiosity. They both looked down at Beverly, who shrugged. "Misty and I weren't there. Our escort disappeared in a ball of lightning and a Dragon Sorcerer appeared in his place and scared the, uh, dickens out of all of us."
"I see," Michael said. "I think we may have met your sorcerer."
"Sigh," Dawn said. "Bev? Show her."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Only way to cut this off at the pass," Dawn said, nodding. "Sooner she freaks and gets past it, the sooner we work this out."
"Don't talk to or about me like that, Dawn Marie Summers," Joyce said to a visibly unimpressed Dawn. That sent Joyce from irritated to fuming...
Benjy looked up at her dad and mom. Michael Sheridan shrugged, and said, "Joyce said that Dawn told her you guys had really big problems. Might as well fill us in now." Her mom nodded.
"All right," Beverly said, and looked up at Joyce, "But you're really not going to want to believe this. Don't freak." She took a deep breath, and said, "Pook!"
"Oh, this should be good," the teenaged black girl in the leopard suit and hose said.
A small, pigeon sized glowing green ball of light zipped up out of nowhere, and a tiny female figure in a little green dress came to attention in front of Beverly, snapped a precise salute, and piped up in a high clear voice, "Yes ma'am, Lieutenant General Sergeant Cap'n Chief Benjy, ma'am! Whassup?"
Michael and Michelle Sheridan blinked at her. Joyce frankly stared with her mouth falling open, and then swallowed hard. The young black girl looked positively entranced.
"See?" Dawn said, looking at her mom, "Why do you think I called you?"
"Pook," Beverly said. "Get me Cap, Devila, 'Kat, Chessie, Wicked, and Saavik. Now please."
"Ma'am, yes ma'am, First Sergeant Chief!" the diminutive, uh... fairy saluted again, and zipped away. She had... tiny... wings.
Joyce felt faint.
"Ma'am, uh, Mrs. Summers, Mom, Dad," Beverly said, looking serious, "Until a bit before five twenty tonight, by my swatch, that was eight year old Claire Bennett. Now she's a roughly eight inch tall Private Pooka Bell, a pixie. She varies an inch or so in height, seemingly at random, ma'am. And is a real pixie. And that ain't the half of it."
"I'll say," the black girl said, smiling.
"Um, who might you be, Miss?" Michelle Sheridan said. The girl held up a hand, and...
A trio of young, uh, beings popped up all around them. Out of nowhere, it seemed. The one almost literally stepped out of a shadow, it almost looked like... No, young girls around Beverly and Dawn's age. No... wait.
"She's Aura," the one in the black, somewhat shredded looking, half masked costume said. "She fought a sabretooth tiger and lived. And a vampire." She looked at Beverly, and added, "You wanted us, Chief ma'am? Got more food?"
She had a tail, that was twitching lazily at the tip. So did the other one, the gray and white spotted girl, with fur. And ears that moved, and slit pupiled, orange eyes with green flakes, and turquoise blue on the gray one. And the other...
Was a little devil girl, complete with horns, and a spade tipped lazily coiling and uncoiling tail. And very sharp teeth that she bared in a bright grin.
"The others are on their way," Beverly said, "But they have to walk, unlike our three scouts here."
"Mom?" Dawn said, "This is Private Chessie, Private Kitty 'Kat, and Private Devila. Until early tonight, Chessie was Cyndi Teller, from our class."
"And 'Kat and Devila were Tawny Cypress and Monica Dawson, from our grade and fourth," Beverly said, nodding. "Now they're stuck this way."
"'Kat is not stuck," the black furred cat girl said, sounding disdainful. "Told Sergeant Benjy: 'Kat is perfectly 'Kat."
"I'm, uh, sure you are," Joyce said, faintly.
"Of course you are, Fuzzy Butt," Beverley said, giving her an ear rub that soon had the girl purring. Beverly's parents looked on in fascination.
"Awww," the black girl, Aura said.
"That's what we keep saying," Dawn said, nudging Carlos.
A girl in a Captain America outfit, with a metal looking shield, a girl in one of the red Star Trek uniforms, and a girl in a once elegant looking, now disheveled and tattering, black fur trimmed gown were walking across the parking lot and up the sidewalk toward them now.
"That's Cap, Saavik, and Princess Wicked, coming up," Beverly said. "They didn't change back, either."
"Everyone else did, but not them and Pook," Dawn said. "So we decided to call in and pass the buck to a higher authority."
"Dawn decided," Beverly said, smiling.
"Umm, others?" Michelle Sheridan said. "How many others?"
"There's forty-one of us now," Misty said. "We started out with twenty-six plus Pook, met up with and Carlos and Dawn's group joined us, and then we lost three in a fight with an, uh, demon. And we lost Private Calamity earlier. So we lost four. Not counting the kids who turned into monsters and attacked us or ran off."
"Oh, Bev, I'm so sorry," Michelle said. "Lost as in... "
"Dead, mom, at least the other three," Benjy said, awfully clear eyed for a girl imparting such awful news, Joyce thought. So was her daughter, for that matter. "We don't know what happened to Calamity, but we think she's probably dead, too."
"Benjy led a rescue mission," Devila said, "But we never found her."
"Hate pirates," 'Kat said, hissing and lashing her tail. "Hate Losted Boys too."
"Oh, honey, that's rough," Michael said. he looked at the approaching trio, and his lips started twitching. "Forty-one, huh? Only you, Bev, only you."
"Yes sir," Beverly said, starting to smile. "We're heading back to base. I promised. But we got some things to figure out first."
"I see that... " Joyce said, feeling horribly more and more out of her depth here.
"Ma'ams, Sir," the Captain America girl said as the other three came up, "Miss." She looked at and apparently took in Michael's bearing, and came to attention and faced him, "I overheard as we came up. Forty one, sir. And even before they met us, First Sergeant Benjy and the others ran, stood their ground, evaded, and fought running battles across the length and breadth of lower Sunnydale to Pajaro lane. And then she led us all the way to here, through things you wouldn't believe. Are you with Tech-comm Command, sir?"
"Um. No, uh, Captain?" Michael said, and the girl nodded. "I'm with a related command." He looked over at his daughter and started laughing, shaking his head.
"Private Sergeant Captain America," Beverly said, grinning. "Our rank structure is a little, uh, eclectic, Sir."
"I see that," Michael said, laughing harder.
"Your father and I told Angel that if anyone could fall into all of this and come up swinging, it would be you, Benjy," Michelle said. "I'm so glad to see we were right."
"Yes ma'am," Beverly said, grinning. "But I couldn't have done it without the others."
"So, uh... " Joyce said, then trailed off. "Forty-one?' Sighing, she fell back upon the first, last, and sometimes only resort of out of their depth mothers: when in doubt, feed 'em. You can't go wrong by feeding them... And it buys you time– "Is anyone hungry?"
The two cat girls' ears perked up and swiveled forward immediately.
"Oh, God yes, Mom," Dawn said. "And I'll bet those dollar burgers hit bottom in 'Kat and 'Chessie and disappeared. They and Devila take lots of fuel."
Michelle Sheridan looked at Joyce, and said, "Do you suppose the cafeteria is open?"
"One way to find out quick," Beverly said, "Pook!" The fairy girl zipped up immediately.
"Yes ma'am, Lieutenant General Sergeant Cap'n Chief Benjy, ma'am!"
"There's a cafeteria in there somewhere," Beverly said, jerking a thumb toward the building. "Restaurant, serving line with lots of food?"
"Know what cafeteria is," the fairy girl rolled her little eyes. "Pizza?"
"Probably not, Pook," Carlos said. The fairy wilted slightly.
"Good. Find it, and see if it's open and serving food, and report," Beverly said, nodding. "If it is open, go round 'em all up and bring 'em in. Double time."
"Ok! Ma'am, yes ma'am!"
Joyce blinked at the little glowing contrail. Fast, sheesh. Michael blinked and looked at Beverly.
"Forward observer?"
"Yes sir," Beverly said. "And fast aerial scout. Best in the business," she added, grinning.
"Yeah, just ask the Lost Boys pixies," Carlos said, starting to laugh. "Or probably those poor diners at Pizza Barn."
"Lieutenant General Sergeant Cap'n Chief?"
"Pook adds military ranks whenever Bev does something impressive, or gives her more responsibility," Misty said, grinning. "It seems random, but it really isn't. We're waiting 'til the list is taller than Benjy, and then we're gonna buy her a step ladder."
"I am not short, darn it." Beverly rolled her eyes. "I'm First Sergeant height exactly."
"It's important that you believe that," Misty said.
"Open! Open and Serving!" Pooka Bell said, popping up, and zipped off again.
"Kewl."
"Can I come, too?" the black girl, Aura asked, grinning. "I have got to hear this story."
"Who are you again?" Joyce said, frowning.
"Aura Breckenridge, Mrs. Summers," she said. "We met briefly at Parent Teachers night. I'm a friend of Cordelia's."
"She's a vampire killer, dad," Beverly said, her eyes dancing. "And she and her guys fought Sabretooth and she knows Iron Fist! It's so cool."
"Ah. I am impressed, young lady," Michael said. "I met your friend, Daniel Rand. He was impressive also."
"You know Danny? How is he? The jerk."
"He's ah, not there any more. He's someone named Jesse, now," Michelle said.
"Jesse's back? Oh, good!"
A short while later, they were surrounded by a ragged looking, semi armed, and, Joyce thought, hard eyed and slightly intimidating looking band of forty some nine, ten, and eleven year olds. They were dressed in a broad assortment of costumes from a pair of small witches and a yellow clad Southern Belle on one end of the spectrum, to a dark Red Riding Hood and a girl dressed as a grim looking Alice in Wonderland at the other. There were at least nine or so military uniform costumes of various types scattered among them. Two of them appeared to be injured, and were supported by two others on each side. One had part of a bloody bandage peeking through her Ghost Busters jumper...
They hadn't come up in a gaggle of disorganized children as any number of Trick or Treater's or kids might be normally wont to do. These had trotted – or limped – up in four orderly groups of eight to nine apiece.
Joyce blinked and resisted an urge to shake her head in disbelief as the groups came to a crisp halt and fanned out around them still in rough ranks, out of the way of possible traffic. An eleven year old in a Bucky Barnes costume stopped in front of Beverly, snapped a crisp salute and held it until it was returned smartly, and said, "First Sergeant? The Irregulars reporting in as ordered, ma'am."
Beverly nodded to him and said, "Good. At ease, and have the troop stand easy, Corporal."
"Yes'm." He turned and called out a bit quietly, but still carrying, "You heard the Sarge. Fall out and smoke 'em if you gottem!"
The group relaxed into something that more resembled a normal group of jostling, joking, and playful kids, all of them watching the three adults curiously and alertly. Joyce noticed Mrs. and Mrs. Sheridan watching straight faced, but looking as though both of them were straining mightily to restrain twitching lips and grins.
"Mom, Dad, Mrs. Summers," Beverly said, "The First Sunnydale Irregulars, Tech-Comm, North American Resistance Command."
"Ooh rah!" the group shouted, all of them grinning. "And We. Don't. Lose!"
"Darned straight," Dawn said. "Not ever." Oh gods, her daughter was doing it too...
"Umm... what exactly are you guys resisting," Joyce said, trying to find some sort of ground under her feet. First the talk at the library and all of the revelations about her other daughter, and now this...
"Ma'am?" Carlos Trejo looked at her, and without cracking a smile said, "Anything that even looks like it's trying to get in our way."
"They usually start trying to get out of our way very shortly after that," her daughter said, grinning from ear to ear. "We're kinda like army ants once we get going."
Saturday, November 1, 1997: Route 23, Near Ojai, Night 1:35am –
"So, you say you think for certain that this Larry kid didn't transform back?" Rory Harris said.
He was sitting in an easy chair in the den in a t-shirt, pair of gym shorts, and a robe, and Cordelia and Xander were more or less comfortably sprawled on an over stuffed sofa gratefully sipping cups of hot coffee. Cordelia had always thought Rory looked like a slightly stretched Powers Booth. Now, she thought, he looked like an elderly Powers Booth – it was kinda sad to see how old looking he'd gotten in the years since she'd last been friends with Xander and them.
Of course, Rory was in his early seventies, now... he was kinda old.
"Well, no way to really tell until we run into him and he proves all unstoppable and tries to kill me," Cordelia said. "And that's an experiment I would so like to avoid for awhile."
"But everything we can figure out and put together adds to that, sir," Xander said.
"Sir. You've gotten awful respectful in your old age, kid," Rory said, grinning at him. "It looks good on you. Keep it."
"Uh, sorry, si- uh, Uncle Rory," Xander said, ducking his head and grinning. "I think an awful lot of Tech-sergeant Hicks stuck with me."
"Good," Cordelia said. "We're so gonna need it." She looked curiously at Rory. "Gotta say, you're taking this awful well, for getting woken up in the early morning with a wild tale like this."
"Huh. You were never a liar as a kid, Cordy," Rory said. "Not even on small stuff. You telling me that's changed any?"
"Huh? No! But... "
"But nothing, then," Rory said. "And Xander has a lot of faults, not least of which is being moronic enough to let you get away with going AWOL on us for eight or nine years, but he's never lied to me on anything important."
"I didn't exactly give him a choice, Rory," Cordelia said, a bit ruefully.
"Well, shame on you, then," Rory said, grinning. "Missed having you, Aura, and that big Afghan Hound of yours out here hunting jack rabbits, kangaroo rats, coyotes, and rattlesnakes."
"Rodents of Unusual Size, Dire Wolves, and Jackalopes, yeah," Cordelia said, grinning, "And the Horned Serpents of Barsoom. I kind of missed it too."
"Kind of?"
"Ok, a lot," Cordelia admitted. "But you try to fight Mother on something. Especially when you're eight, jeeze."
"Not saying I blame you," Rory said, holding up a hand. "Just saying it's good to see you back, finally. Even if it did take something like this."
"Thanks," Cordelia said, in a small voice. She blinked suddenly moist eyes. "Dammit, don't do that."
"Do what?" he said, grinning at her again.
"You know what, dammit," Cordelia said. "Anyway... "
"Besides," Rory said, "Not like the two of you are gonna wake me up at one a-fucking-m with you wearing a huge pistol and carrying a Beretta shotgun and Xan loaded down like a bargain basement Rambo and a wild story like this to pull a practical joke like this on me. Not gonna happen, not in any lifetime. So, either you both went insane, or I did, or you're being level with me, hey?"
Xander nodded. "Yes sir."
"So. Randall and Teresa are dead, and that thing killed them?" Rory said. "You gonna get blamed?"
"Heh. Depends on if Bob Munroe is in charge of the investigation," Xander said. "Hope the Larry-bot killed him too."
"Hah. Your old man shoulda shot Bob Munroe fifteen years ago," Rory said, "For hitting on your mom."
"Gee, I didn't think Munroe was interested in anything over fourteen," Cordelia said. "You mean he likes women, too?"
"Ouch. Meow?" Xander said.
"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said, swatting him. "You don't know him like I do. Ask Aura if you don't believe me."
"Then I'm surprised Randall didn't shoot him," Rory said. "Your old man and Xander's were a pair when they were younger and Tony was still someone to ride the river with."
"I didn't tell him," Cordelia said. "Didn't want Daddy going to jail over that- that… creep."
"Well, don't see what can be done about the legal stuff right now," Rory said. "Maybe this Stein will survive and have some ideas. What all do you two need from me?"
"Place to hole up for a bit that it's not easy for the Terminator to discover," Xander said. "And use of your workshop and tools and reloading equipment."
"Yeah, Rambo here bought a whole bunch of household and automotive chemicals and PVC and model rocket stuff at Wally World," Cordelia said.
"Had most of that here," Rory said, "And, done."
"Didn't want to take a chance and not have it, sir," Xander said. "And, let's see... you still keep dynamite for blowing out rocks and stuff? And fishing?"
"Fishing?" Cordelia said, blinking at him.
"Yup. Boom!" Xander said, "And they all float up to the top. Kinda wasteful, but kinda cool, too."
"Now, now, you know the game wardens made me give that up," Rory said. "And yeah... but some of it might be gettin' near its use by date. Have to look it over real careful. So, you know what you're doing? I never taught you dynamite and TNT... "
"Yeah. In spades, actually," Xander said, tapping his forehead. "Hicks had way too much technical knowledge on improvised weapons and demolitions, and now I've got it all. Lucky me – I'm going to have nightmares remembering how he got and field tested it all."
"We'll get you therapy," Cordelia said, squeezing his arm. "If we can find one that won't go straight to the Thorazine and I-love-me Jackets."
Rory nodded. "All right. Not gonna start on it tonight, are you?"
"Like to, but no," Xander said. "We're exhausted and wrung out, both physically, mentally, and otherwise. Dangerous to do anything like that."
"Yes, and gods forbid we do anything, like, dangerous," Cordelia said, grinning. Xander rapped her on the head with his knuckles, getting a slap and a scowl.
"Yeah, but there's dangerous, and there's dangerous and stupid," Xander said. "Making improvised weaponry when you're dead on your feet is dangerous and stupid."
"I know. It was a joke, dumb ass."
"Jesus Christ," Rory said. "Are you two ever going to jump past the slap slap kiss kiss thing? Been doing it since you were six. Makes me frustrated just watching."
Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him. "No. Never."
"Too much fun, sir," Xander said, and Rory laughed until he started coughing.
"Anything else? You sure there's nothing conventional that'll do it?" Rory said.
"Fifty Barrett, maybe," Xander said. "Otherwise, nothing civilian, sir. Take a SMAW or a Carl Gustav to do anything much. Or a 25mm autocannon, and they're not man portable."
"Huh. Never did get a Barrett, or any other Fifty," Rory said. "Closest and biggest thing I have are the two .505 Gibbs I had made up for my Africa trip thirty years back, when your aunt was still alive."
"Oh-kay... " Xander blinked. "Forgot about that... mind if I borrow one?"
"Aw, hell no. Be my guest," Rory said. "But we'll have to load up some solids. Only got twenty rounds left from the last time I was out plinking at cinder-blocks in the desert."
"Plinking at cinder-blocks... " Cordelia blinked again, and Xander and Rory both grinned at her.
"A five-oh-five will turn a cinder-block into concrete dust at a hundred yards, Cordy," Xander said. "Impressive as all hell, and way, way cool."
"Oh-kay... " Cordelia said. "Now I'm seriously pissed at mother. I missed all the neat stuff, huh?"
"You surely did, girl," Rory said. "And you should just see what a six hundred and fifty grain steel solid will do to a cast iron engine block, too."
"Huh. Darn it. Now I want to go shooting and it's dark," Cordelia said, grinning. She looked at Xander, "So, think that'll do anything?"
"It'll make an impact and let him know we're there," Xander said. "Whether it'll punch through and damage anything important? Not real sure."
"And you used to come out here and blow up cinder blocks for fun, jerk," Cordelia said, thumping him one. "The only cool parties you ever have, you wait 'til I'm not around to throw?"
"Me and Jesse, uh huh. Not since I was fifteen, though," Xander said, laughing. "Like I said, I forgot all about the two big African rifles."
"Four," Rory said. "Don't forget the four sixteen, too. Less mass, but more velocity. Might be easier for Cordy to handle. The three seventy-five, now, might not do as much, but the stopping rifles pack a wallop."
"Kewl."
"Wrap 'em up, we'll take 'em to go," Xander said.
"Take two. They're not small, but they're efficient," Rory said, laughing. He sobered abruptly, and said, "All right. One thing you haven't gotten to yet, you two: how did all this get started?"
Xander and Cordelia exchanged long looks, and then shrugged. "Ok," Xander said, "But I'll try to keep it brief so we can all sack out at some point. And... I'm gonna gloss over some stuff to keep it brief, that we can discuss in more detail tomorrow while we're working."
"Fair enough," Rory said. "Basic outlines at least will do."
"Keep in mind, and this is a lot of the part that I'm gonna gloss, too, that past a certain point, none of this is graven in stone. None of it may happen either at all, or in this way, now," Xander said. "You gotta remember, Cordy, that Tech-sergeant Hicks was a technical sergeant, but I'm a geek, like you like to point out. I'm a sci-fi, fantasy and comic book geek, mostly. Hicks was a hardware geek: military hardware, communication and electronics, and improvised weapons and demolitions." Cordelia nodded, and he went on, "A lot of the stuff that the science guys explained either went over his head, or else he let slide past. Not because he was dumb, but because it was outside of his technical expertise."
"Right, got it," Cordelia said. "You, uh, he said some of that."
Xander nodded, and continued, "Me, I've been immersed up to my eyeballs since we were kids in science fiction and comics and stuff. And a lot of hard sci-fi – not the soft rubber sci-fi TV does – but the hard stuff written by physicists like Asimov and whatever, deals with time travel, alternate dimensions, and alternate universe theory. And real science behind it. Comics too: comics are filled with it. I caught a lot of the crap that Hicks blew off as unimportant."
"Meaning?" Rory raised an eyebrow.
"According to the best theory we have, that Tech-comm's science people worked with, it doesn't work like a lot of popular tropes would have it. You go back in time and kill your granddad, like the popular paradox would have it, you don't suddenly wink out. No such thing as paradox. You exist, so you have to exist. The universe bounces back and smooths out. Someone like you gets born that fills the same slot. Grandma meets someone else and has a kid close enough to your dad to fill the space. You get an alternate time line, one where things went on as before, and one where you made a change..."
"No Fate," Cordelia said, nodding. Rory looked at her inquiringly as Xander smiled and nodded. "No fate but what we make," Cordelia elaborated, looking at Rory. "I remember that much: it was a common theme in both movies. Oh!" she said, looking at Xander, "That's why you don't believe in prophecy!"
"Yup. Don't work like that," Xander said. "Not unless you're gullible enough to make it come true. Like, uh, Buffy walking down to meet the Master because that idiotic Prophecy said she would. Just sending something back makes changes. Sending the Terminator, Hicks, and possibly Kyle back changes things from Halloween on – 'cause in the real history that Hicks knew, or one of them, none of this happened. No Terminator, no Hicks. You, we, went on normally, you had a son named Morgan Chase – "
"Morgan Chase-Harris, duh, dumb ass," Cordelia said, shaking her head. Xander stared at her, his mouth falling open. "Oh, please. I'm not stupid, Xander, no matter what you and Willow might think. You don't maintain my grade average and manage a group of ruthless bitches like the Cordettes if you're stupid."
Rory started laughing, shaking his head. He pointed his finger at Xander and said, between bursts of laughter, "You mean... you two? Oh, that's priceless."
"No. Not gonna happen," Cordelia said, grinning. "At least, not that way. But... hey, gee, Hicks said, at least twice 'Morgan Chase something' with him almost saying something that started with a 'huh' or 'hah' sound. Now, gee, what letter do I know that sounds like huh or hah on a word? Lemme think... oh! And who do I know that I've had a hate love slap slap kiss relationship with since freaking kindergarten that I might possibly fall in bed with in a moment of life and death crisis that has a name that starts with a freaking 'H'? Gee. That's a toughie."
"There's no need for sarcasm, Cordy," Xander said, sounding huffy. But he was grinning at her...
"Oh yeah? Since when?" Cordelia laughed, and stuck her tongue out at him. "Beside, hey, Terminator? Kyle Reese was John Connor's dad with Linda Hamilton. You even made a joke about it to Larry before he was gonna pound you into paste earlier tonight."
"Damn. I hate it when my sidekick is genre savvy," Xander said, grinning at Rory.
"Partner, jerk," Cordelia said. "I'm nobody's freaking side kick."
Xander nodded, smiling lopsidedly with those new, freaky blue eyes gone all warm on her. It sent a shiver along her spine that she did her best to ignore...
"Partner. Ok, so... last year around the end of April, Will and Giles start a project of scanning a lot of the books into the computer for a database. Don't think you were really a part of the weird yet, Cordy. And one of them accidentally let a demon named Moloch out into the internet..." he trailed off, looking at Rory, "Bear with us, sir. It gets even weirder than you've already heard. Cordy and I'll fill you in on Sunnydale's darkest and best unkept unsecret tomorrow when we're not all asleep on our feet, ok?" Rory nodded and Xander continued, "Moloch took on the name of Malcolm, and started screwing with stuff, including Willow and the computer class nerds. We thought Giles and Ms. Calendar exorcised him and bound him back in his book, but he apparently left an, uh, whatchacallit, piece of himself out there – "
"Kernel," Rory said.
"Kernel, right. So, along around this time, something major happened on Halloween, tonight. Hicks never knew all the details: either there weren't any notes, or none of 'em survived, or he didn't see 'em."
"Enchantment on the costumes," Cordelia said, "Somehow. I worked it out sitting in that freaking interrogation room. Gwen and another Cordette got theirs at Party Town and they didn't change. I got mine at Kostume Kauldron with most of the rest, and we didn't change. Overheard a bunch of the jocks and Joy talking about shopping at some new place, Ethan's or Beathan's or something. You and Will and Buffy were talking behind me and Aura in Chem about shopping at this Ethan or Bethan place for your stuff, and you changed. So... duh."
"Oh, holy fucking shit," Xander said, his eyes going wide.
"What?" Cordelia's went wide also – anything at this point that got Xander that panicked looking just couldn't end well...
"Harmony bought another freaking Terminator outfit at that place while we were there shopping," Xander said, swallowing hard. "Jonathan and I saw her do it."
"Oh, crap."
"Gee, what a gift for understatement you have, dear."
"Oh, shut up," Cordelia said, her eyes wide.
"There may be two of these things out there?" Rory said, "Jesus fucking Christ and the Saints spread preserves on us all."
"Well put," Xander said, swallowing hard again. "Well, at least Harmony would need an upgrade just to hit stupid on the IQ bell curve. But we may have just figured out why we never bumped into that Kyle Jordan Reese guy who was supposedly being prepped to come back on a backup mission..."
"Well, fuck," Cordelia said, slumping in her seat.
"Rory? Let's table this 'til tomorrow for the rest of future history 101, ok? I gotta think, hard," Xander said. Rory nodded.
"All right, sounds like a plan," Rory said. "You're not going to do any of this tonight, then I'm going back to bed. You know where the gun room and safe is, Xan. And the guest rooms. Wake me up if anything happens, y'hear?"
"Yes sir, we will," Xander said. "I'll load up one of the .505's and a .416 before we sack out for just in case."
"Good. And hey, no fraternization under my roof, now," Rory said. "Don't want to have to explain to old man William Randolph why I had licentious behavior going on out here with minors. Which means – do whatever, and don't let me know about it," he added, grinning.
"Oh yeah, as if," Cordelia said, laughing. "Xander should be so lucky."
"Gee, and getting lucky was what I was hoping for, Cordy," Xander said.
"Keep hoping," Cordelia said. "Crap in the other hand and squeeze both. See which comes true, lamer."
Saturday, November 1, 1997: South Marion Drive Sunnydale Medical Complex, Sunnydale, Night 1:30am –
They'd commandeered, at least in Benjy speak, a large corner booth at one end of the nearly empty cafeteria dining room, one big enough for all the adults, Beverly, Misty, Dawn, Carlos, the two cat girls and the little devil girl, and the princess, Miss Captain America, and the little Vulcan, plus several nearby tables for everyone. All of the military dressed kids and the kid in the Bucky uniform had taken the tables nearest their group, in conversational range. Beverly had introduced them as her 'Command Staff' and the 'Irregulars Special Ops and Parley Team', something that seemed to quietly amuse her parents to no end.
The kids were a bit frighteningly organized, even Joyce's normally sloppy about anything even remotely resembling discipline daughter... Dawn's offhand comment about army ants suddenly struck Joyce as disturbingly apt.
"Ok, we've done some thinking about this," Dawn was saying, "And even some discussion when we had the time – "
"Which was rarely," Carlos said.
"Uh huh," Dawn said, nodding. "And as near as we can figure, Bev's people were already a unit before this chaos thing hit."
"Right," Beverly said. "Tech-Sergeant Xander spent the first hour like, giving everyone squad nicknames and ranks and call signs, and standing orders and everything. For like, trick or treating and scoring candy. Made a game out of it – was fun. Even had standard operating procedures, like if you get separated, go wait under a street light until Tech-sergeant Xander notices you're missing and comes looking, and stuff."
"And so, when everyone changed," Misty said, "We guess everyone just remembered being a unit, and all being together. Oh – and Bev and Bucky being in charge."
"Yeah," Beverly said, picking up the train again, "So when that guy we all thought was an evil Dragon Sorcerer came in, we all ran screaming, and all of us ran the same direction. Even 'Kat, Devila, Pook, and Wicked."
"Last thing Tech-sarge said: stick together, take care of others," Devila said, shrugging. "We did. Orders."
"My," Joyce said.
"We didn't all start out together," Carlos said. "Except me and Dawn and a few others. We were just all the kids who made it out of the mess the mall turned into and saw that the others weren't monsters or bad guys. Picked up other kids as we went while we were bailing out. And then we ran into Cap and Ranger, and... "
"We put a command together," Cap said, shrugging. "Made sense: work together and get out of it together."
"Uh huh," Misty said, "And then we ran into them, set them up, ambushed them, and decided to join forces after Dawn and Carlo recognized Bev and then me."
"Yeah. We got kinda tired of getting ambushed by then, and decided that she who ambushes first, laughs last and best," Cassie put in, grinning.
"Worked, too," Dawn said, grinning at her. "We never saw it coming. Hey – I think that's where the Lost Idiots all came from. There were a lot of kids in Robin Hood, pirate, musketeer, and Peter Pan outfits there, and cowboys and Indians. Think some school group had a theme or something."
"And the mall is fairly close to that old amusement park," Misty said. "Makes sense."
Joyce nodded, thinking. She frowned, looking at the rifle leaning against Misty's chair, and the too too real looking bow and tommy gun with 'Private Jones' and 'Lady Robin'. "I really think you should give those to Beverly's dad to keep," she said, starting to reach for the little Winchester.
The suddenly ice cold look in the flat, hard gaze that eleven year old Misty Pantine turned on her froze her in mid reach, and froze the breath in her throat.
"Don't touch my weapon, ma'am," Misty said. "Do not."
Her daughter nodded, looking unsurprised and unconcerned. "No one takes an Irregular's weapon from them, mom," Dawn said, digging into her dessert. "Not while they're still conscious, anyway. It's really not a good plan."
Michael and Michelle just looked on with sudden, fascinated interest, damn them. So did Aura.
"But- but... those are real, you said," Joyce said, drawing back. "Children shouldn't have firearms."
"We're not children, ma'am," Misty said, her eyes and voice still cold. "We haven't been children since six thirty when we lost Private Calamity. And that was Calamity's rifle. It stays with me. She may show up and want it back."
"And thus endeth the lesson," Carlos said. Dawn elbowed him, shaking her head.
"And we really haven't been kids since we ran into that demon in the tunnels," ten year old Jensen Bradford, Private Jones, said. "This was Cagney's. She's dead now, ma'am. That thing killed her, right in front of us. It stays."
Beverly nodded, chewing on her meatloaf. "Irregulars get kind of touchy about respect for our dead and wounded, ma'am."
"Yeah," Dawn said, nodding. "Benjy threw a guy off a roof for slashing Speng with a sword and decking me and Buttercup. And then trying to assassinate her."
Beverly stared at her, her fork halfway to her mouth, eyes wide.
"oh," Dawn said, "umm... that was what that Hatter kid was running up to the roof to do: take you and Bucky out. Why I was hot on his tail. I didn't tell you?"
"No, you somehow forgot about that," Beverly said, slowly. She finished taking her bite and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Thanks, then."
"No probs."
"Assassinate the leader holding everyone together," Michael said, nodding. "A time honored tradition."
"Gee, thanks dad. Don't sound so approving."
"You- you threw a kid off a roof?" Joyce said. "Uh, how high?"
"Hatter go splat!" Pooka said in a cheerfully bloodthirsty voice, zipping over to examine and mooch off of plates.
"Umm... two and a half stories?" Beverly said, shrugging. "No – three: ground floor was a floor and a half, plus the wall and ledge was raised over the roof. Didn't think I had time to haul him up to the tower first." She paused, looking thoughtful, and added, "He fell and landed on the guys storming the gatehouse, though, so I suspect he lived."
Aura started to make choking sounds, stifling laughter. Joyce glared at her, and said, "Don't encourage them!"
Beverly shrugged again. "He hurt my people, and tried to kill my second in command. And he broke his parole. I was getting kind of tired of him and his crew. People got hurt in that fight, because they attacked us."
"But... " Joyce looked helplessly at Michael and Michelle Sheridan. "Can't you do something? You look so... unconcerned."
"We are doing something, Joyce," Michelle said, gently. "We're observing, and listening to our children."
"If Beverly did something like that, then she had a good reason, otherwise she wouldn't have," Michael said, shrugging. "I used to get just outrageously annoyed when someone hurt my people. Especially when they did it with malice aforethought. It had a tendency to get awfully abrupt for the person doing the hurting."
"But, you were military," Joyce said, shaking her head. She had the feeling that yet again she was on uncertain and treacherous ground, and it was sinking out from under her. She'd already gone three rounds with Benjy's 'Irregulars' on the subject of Erin Spengler and Dana Delaney going immediately to the emergency room – and had lost.
"So are we," Beverly said, quietly. "And, I did and it did."
Michael nodded. "Certainly seems that way. And," he looked at Joyce, "I have yet to see any of them mishandle a weapon. Not once. I've been watching very carefully, believe me. Handling weapons used to be my business. They seem to be very safe with those."
"But kids shouldn't be safe with weapons," Joyce said. "They shouldn't have to be."
"You're never too young to be safe around dangerous things," Michelle said, "Or didn't you teach your daughters not to play with the drain cleaner and bleach? And the kitchen knives? Or not to stick scissors into wall outlets?"
"That's not the same thing!"
"I think it is," Michelle said. "Our three have been safe with firearms since they were at least eight. We made sure of it. We are never going to have to come home and find that one of ours accidentally shot themselves or one of the others. They do not have accidents with weapons, or with tools."
"But, weapons, surely... "
"Weapons are inanimate objects, Joyce," Michelle said, smiling. "People are safe. Or they're not."
"I can see we're just not going to agree on certain things, then," Joyce said.
"It's not a requirement," Michael said, shrugging. "I've spent most of my adult life devoted to the principal that people don't have to believe the same things, and can't and shouldn't be forced to."
"Ma'am?" the young, blonde Captain America girl said, "If I may, those weapons, along with the others that changed back into toys and replicas, saved lives tonight. Including your daughter's life on a number of occasions. The First Sergeant's wrist rocket was possibly the most important and useful of all of them. These so called 'children' know what they're doing. And, they're very good at it – best troops I've ever seen."
"And we've done it so far without ever once deliberately taking a life," Misty said, nodding. "No matter what provocation we've had, and no matter how chaotic the situation got. We've had the temptation, believe me. People and things have been trying to kidnap or kill us all night long, for hours. They haven't succeeded."
"Yeah," Carlos said. "If Misty aims that rifle, she hits where she aims and no place else. And it won't just 'go off' by itself. We don't have accidents. We found out early that we can't afford them."
There were nods and mutters from the group and the assembled others around them, Joyce stared at the hard eyed and suddenly serious kids mutely, shaking her head.
"You keep making the mistake of looking at us and seeing little kids. We're not. We are Irregulars, and soldiers, and we grew up fast in the past six hours. We're not nice little kids any more, Mrs. Summers," Misty said, looking Joyce with disconcerting steadiness in the eyes. "Someone hurts one of us at their own risk. No one harms someone under our protection, not ever. And nobody, but nobody takes our weapons and no one will ever render us defenseless again. Period, thus endeth the lesson."
Joyce opened her mouth to say something, and then looked around, suddenly noticing forty-one pairs of eyes on her with that disconcerting, even, level and very adult stare. A number of them were nodding slowly.
Joyce Summers' mouth closed wordlessly and she swallowed hard.
"U.S. Admiral Farragut was twelve years old when he was given his first prize command for valor in combat," Michael Sheridan said quietly, looking at his daughter with obvious pride, and not a little sadness. "Audie Murphy was only seventeen when he was on the way to becoming the most decorated U.S. Soldier in history."
"But we don't do that any more," Joyce said, "We don't make children midshipmen and soldiers any more, or let them work in factories and real jobs. We're - "
"Civilized now?" Michelle said, smiling. "Have you been looking around you tonight, any?"
"Mom," Dawn said, softly, but suddenly just as serious and hard eyed. "We took down Spike. The blonde guy from Parent Teachers night that tried to kill Buffy and you hit with an axe? He attacked us with a bunch of thugs and demons and grownup pirates. And we sent him and all of his thugs packing with an arrow in his butt." There was an unmistakable note of pride in her daughter's voice...
"From what they told me," Aura said, "And from what I saw of him before Kendra killed him, this Spike guy was a vampire like that insane vampire chick that tried to kill me here at the ER waiting room. I'd have given a lot for something to defend myself with against her. I had to make it up from scratch."
"Wait, your friend Kendra turned that Silver Hair guy to dust?" Beverly said. "Kewl."
"So, what are we going to do about 'Kat, Chessie and the others, Mom?" Dawn asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"I don't know, dear," Joyce said, deflating abruptly. She looked at the only other two adults in the room, even if they weren't sane ones. "Ideas?"
"Hmm. Thorny problem," Michael said. "Been thinking on it." He looked at, err, Cap, and 'Wicked'. "Are you certain that neither of you can, or would pretend, so as to get your families to accept you?"
"Sir, my family has been dead for fifty years," Cap – the so called 'Stephanie Rogers' – said. "I don't know these people. And I'm really not good with dissimulation."
"No sir, I'm afraid that I'm fairly certain," Wicked said. "I really wouldn't know these people either, and I'm afraid I wouldn't begin to know how to act, what to say, or even what to call them."
"Mom and dad usually works," Michelle said, smiling.
"Well, yes, of course," Wicked said, smiling back. "But... you understand what I mean, I'm sure. I would be a changeling then, only in a reverse sense from my perspective."
Michael nodded, sighing. He looked at Saavik, who shrugged, frowning slightly. "My family is all dead, as well. And my foster father is on Vulcan, which is a long way away. Unreachable from a world with no FTL, as I understand we are upon now."
"Mom," Dawn said. "We wouldn't have made it this far without them. I owe them."
"We can't take 'Kat, Chessie and Devila back, either," Beverly said, her expression remorseless. "They not only don't know and wouldn't recognize their parents, they're not human. And I won't see them go to doctors and then some lab and get dissected. I won't."
"But, surely... " Joyce said, trailing off. She knew you couldn't reality check life according to popular media, but the images of aliens and non-humans being taken away by men in lab coats and mistreated were too ubiquitous and culturally ingrained to shake off completely.
"Our daughter has a point," Michael said, looking thoughtful. "I love my country, but I don't trust our government as far as Beverly could throw it. That could happen." Michelle nodded, looking troubled.
"We could possibly take a few for a little bit, until we can sort things out," Michelle said, "But we have three plus Aura's friend Daniel will be staying with us temporarily. We're a bit full up right now."
"Whoa, Iron Fist will be staying with us?" Beverly said, grinning from ear to ear. "Way cool."
"They could stay at our house for all of me," Aura said, grinning. "I think it'd be cool. But while my mom and dad are cool, I don't think they're that cool. They'd freak."
"Mom," Dawn said, again.
Joyce looked at her daughter, exasperated. "Fine. They can come with us. At least until we can get the family situation figured out." She shook her head, "I always said I wanted a large family with lots of daughters. Now I can't remember why..."
"That's certainly gracious of you, ma'am. Especially given your reservations," Princess Wicked said, with Cap and Saavik nodding agreement. "And Pooka as well?"
"Oh, sure. She can't eat very much."
"Oh, you haven't seen her hit a pizza like a great white in a herd of seals, mom," Dawn said, laughing. "But she told me that normally she lives on dewdrops, nectar, and M&Ms."
"Pizza?" Pooka zipped up, looking hopeful.
"No... maybe tomorrow, Pooka," Joyce said, shaking her head, "I'll order in."
"Ratz. And okay!"
"Go mooch some more, Pook," Beverly said, smiling. "Thank you, Mrs. Summers."
"On, that's ok, Beverly, we're really happy to help. And I'm not an ogress, really," Joyce said, smiling. "You know, you're really a sweet girl when you're not being – "
"Obstinate, stubborn, determined, obstructionist, inventive, argumentative, and outright dangerous?" Aura suggested, smiling.
"Yes, all of the above," Michelle said.
"Hey, those are Sarge's good qualities. Plus, she's contained in a compact package for easy storage," Carlos said, laughing. Beverly stuck her tongue out at him.
"Ok, so. Getting them back to Sunnydale High School? Since they insist on going there first?" Michael said. "Our Wrangler will hold four more, if they're real friendly."
"And my Commander will do six, if they're the same. More if they can squeeze into the cargo area," Joyce said, frowning. "Taxis. The gallery has had a good couple of months. Cabs for everyone to there won't break my accounts." She shook her head, and said, "But no firearms. Period."
"I think we can work out a compromise on the weapon issue, if Beverly will trust me."
"Of course, anything Dad, you know that," Beverly said. "But I may have to work on the Irregulars to get them to trust you."
Joyce nodded. "Ok, we need phone numbers for everyone's parents. We need to call them and have them meet us there." She sighed, and added, "And then your parents can get Erin and Dana to the emergency room."
"We'll go then, ma'am," Erin said, cheerfully. "But we're completing this mission first."
"Hey, Erin saved all of our lives when she took out that demon in the tunnels," Beverly said. "I'm not gonna argue with her."
"I can't wait until Buffy sees Pooka Bell and Devila," Dawn said, grinning viciously. "Her face should be priceless."
"See, First Sergeant?" Private Sergeant Cookie, Laurie Strode said, "You finally got off your lazy butt, grabbed a clue, and called in choppers to get us an EVAC. Toldja ya shoulda done that first off, but darned Command Sergeants think they know it all."
"Oh, bite me, Cookie," Beverly said, laughing.
.