To Err is Human Part Four - See part one for disclaimers
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Sunnydale, CA March 1997
It is a calm spring morning and the sun is just peaking its way across the horizon. The lights red and golden hues slipping and spilling across the small town streets like water across ancient river rocks, its light driving away the last silken strands of night. The sound of bird song rises above the whispering wind, laying false claim to peace and tranquility.
An event is about to occur in this small town. This event will be the start of many others, all falling into place like dominoes. One event leading unto another until the claim made in the early morning light may not be so false.
This event starts in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries with a simple sound. The sound that breaks the early morning calm is a crackle, as if someone was tearing a piece of paper. A small thunderclap swiftly follows and suddenly a line of ebon appears in the sky. All sound ceases as the air becomes charged with a feeling of anticipation, as if the very town itself eagerly awaits what going to happen next. Then a new sound occurs, as if a God was taking in a lungful of air. The vacuum that exists behind the ebon strip of darkness has begun to feed its voracious appetite, twigs and leaves swirling in the morning light as they are sucked into the cold, forbidding darkness of the void.
As suddenly as the inrush of air starts, it stops, and again there is only silence in the graveyard. Then the line of darkness in the sky widens. From out of the blackness steps a man, who is clad in black from head to toe. Black jacket, black pants, black shirt, black boots and a heavy black bag. No color at all except for his mane of auburn hair and the paleness of his skin.
As the man settles firmly on the ground the ebon portal snaps shut and the crackling feeling of expectancy in the air dissipates. Letting the duffel thump to the ground the man reaches up and pushes his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and takes a good look at the town he hasn't seen in 7 years.
"Home sweet Hellmouth." With a snort at that thought, Wolf pulls the sunglasses back down over his eyes and picks up the duffel. Settling it on his shoulder he heads down the hill towards the gates into town.
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It only takes Wolf five minutes to reach Buffy's house, he had forgotten how small this town actually was. In the front lawn the For Sale sign with its Sold marker stands next to the driveway and through the front window Wolf sees boxes piled in the front room.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching Wolf goes around the side of the house and drops his bag at the base of the tree under Buffy's window. With an easy leap he grabs the lowest branch and pulls himself up into the tree and with another glance at the surroundings for any curious passerby he looks into the window.
Boxes are piled haphazardly in the corner of the room and odds and ends are scattered around the floor. In the bed opposite the window sleeps the Slayer. With her hair laid out across the pillows she looks even younger then her 16 years. Sighing to himself Wolf drops down from the tree and picks up his bag.
"I am 32 years old. I have stopped more apocalypses then anyone else according to someone in the know. I am a werewolf fully in charge of my lycanthropy. And what am I doing? Playing Matchmaker to a pair of 16 year olds… There is something majorly wrong with this picture." Shaking his head at the knuckle ball Fate threw him Wolf then smiles at a stray thought and says to himself with a chuckle "Better then being dead I guess."
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Three cigarettes later the front door opens and he hears Joyce yell up the stairs "Come on girls, you don't want to be late your first day do you?"
"Girls?" Wolf asks himself.
A few seconds later he gets his answer. Joyce walks out the front door followed by Buffy and… Dawn? A ten year old version of her, but its Dawn none the less. Apparently there are a few differences between this reality and his. One is the brunette getting into the backseat of the SUV across the street. Wolf wonders absently what else may be different as he shrugs the duffel onto his shoulder and lopes off after the vehicle.
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Getting to the high school a few minutes ahead of the Summers, Wolf takes a position across the street from the front entrance and pushes his sunglasses back up onto his head. Mentally focusing for a few seconds allows his eyesight to sharpen and he zooms in on the front steps. Xander has told this story enough times to know how its supposed to go down.
And here we go… Buffy's getting out of the jeep, talks to her mother for a moment and heads up the stairs. And from stage left enters Xander, weaving his way in and out of the crowd, badly I might add Wolf thinks with a smirk for his old friend.
Contact.
Xander sees Buffy and… Ouch that looks like it hurt.