Buffy Summers sighed quietly to herself as she enjoyed the first moment of
silence she'd had all day.
Being the first one home, the Slayer had the place all to herself. It wouldn't last long, she knew. At that very moment her mother, Joyce Summers, would be picking up Buffy's sister, Dawn from Junior High. And wherever Dawn Summers was, peace and quiet were surely not.
So, for the moment, Buffy slumped down on the couch and closed her eyes. Her first day at Sunnydale High School had gone as well as she could have hoped. She'd found where all her classes were, got a feel for the school and had made a friend. 'Willow," Buffy said to herself, an amused smile playing on her face as she thought about the redhead.
The two had hit it off immediately, when Willow had offered to share her history textbook in one first class they'd shared. Willow welcomed Buffy to Sunnydale and asked the sort of first questions one expects as the new girl. Buffy had answered with well-prepared answers, steering well clear of any sort of avenue that would hint at her being the Slayer.
Buffy hated doing that. Starting off any friendship, any relationship, with lies. Lies of omission, if nothing else. But as both her mother and Giles had told her hundreds of times, it was for everyone's good. Buffy's destiny as the Slayer was fraught with peril. Anyone who knew her and of her status, was in danger of becoming a target for the demons she hunted. That was the main reason that Buffy had hid her 'Chosen One'-ness from her mother and sister for so long. To save them both the late nights of worry and fear. The saying 'ignorance is bliss' was true when it came to Buffy.
Of course her mother and sister had both found out eventually. Between the bloodstained clothes in the laundry and frequent calls from the police to come pick up her eldest daughter, Joyce realized that Buffy had been up to something she didn't know about. But it wasn't until Lothos, Master vampire of Los Angeles, had kidnapped both Dawn and Joyce that the full truth had come out. Watching Buffy fight off an army of demons and then slay Lothos, bred quite a few pointed questions. With Giles grudging consent, her mother and sister had been fully briefed on Buffy's role as the Slayer.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Except for of course, the fact that no one ELSE was allowed to know. Friends were hard to keep when you had to cancel plans at the last minute to stop the apocalypse, and make up excuses why you can't go to the movies, because some new Big Bad had breezed into town and wanted to eat your face. And if friends were hard to keep, boyfriends were next to impossible. The only boy she had ever dated after becoming the Slayer had been Pike. Pike had known all about her Slayerness from the start, after Buffy had saved him from becoming a late night snack.
It had been.well great, to have someone her age, who she could talk to about everything. As much as Giles and her mother tried, they just couldn't understand on the same level as Pike could. He would keep her company on patrols, distract her when she was feeling sorry for herself. He was the best and truest friend she'd ever had.
All his loyalty and bravery hadn't been enough to stop a vampire from tearing his throat out.
She'd watched it happen. Running through that empty park as fast as she could, but not fast enough. Part of her mind knew that it had taken only seconds for the vampire to kill Pike. Knew that he'd seen her coming, knew she was the Slayer. Knew she was watching as his fangs tore through the flesh of Pike's neck, bit down hard, and ripped away flesh as the reddest blood Buffy had ever seen gushed forth from her best friend, pouring his life onto the dead grass underfoot. She remembered with perfect clarity how Pike fell limply as the vampire prepared to face her. The brief look of surprise as the stake she threw from 15 feet away entered his heart and he turned to dust, Pike's blood still staining his face.
She held Pike in that park for what seemed like hours, simply crying. She'd never cried so much in her life as she did that night. Not when her father left, or when she learned she would have to leave LA. All things seemed so small in the face of her failure of Pike. She would have held him there forever, if Giles hadn't found them that night. He'd picked her up and simply held her, his comfort making her cry all the harder.
After that, they never had another discussion about the importance of keeping her identity as the Slayer a secret.
Buffy's moment of self-reflection was abruptly ended with the sound of a car driving up to the house. Opening her eyes, she saw her mother and sister exiting the Bronco, Dawn chattering excitedly to Joyce about her day. "I mean it! The school is SO much cooler then the one back in LA," her younger sister could be heard saying, as the front door opened. "I mean.WAY cooler!"
"So you've said about a dozen times now, Dawn. I get it. You like your school. It's great." Giving her youngest daughter and indulgent grin, Joyce turned to Buffy and gave her a slightly more concerned look. "How was your first day, honey?"
Giving her mother a smile, Buffy shrugged. "Pretty good. Found all my classes. And considering the school is about five times the size of my old one, I'm rather proud of it!"
Joyce laughed and patted her eldest daughter on the head, while Dawn just rolled her eyes at Buffy. "And did you make any friends?" Joyce asked as she put her purse on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen.
"More importantly, did you meet HIM??" Dawn asked before Buffy could answer her mother.
Choosing to ignore her sister, the Slayer instead followed Joyce into the kitchen. "Yes, actually, Willow. She's in a couple of my classes. She shared her textbook with me in History. We hit it off really, well." Giving her mother a saucy grin, Buffy patted her mother on the head. "No need to feel guilty about tearing me away from everyone I knew for my senior year of high school." Joyce simply stuck her tongue out at Buffy, before turning and putting the kettle on to boil and pretending to miss the mock look of outrage the Slayer gave her.
"Well?" Dawn said as she entered the kitchen, hands on her hips. "Did you even see him?"
Walking to the fridge and opening it, Buffy made a show of looking for something to eat. "Why Dawn, whom ever do you mean?"
"Maaaaaaaahm!" Dawn whined, causing involuntary stiffening of the spine in both Joyce and Buffy. "Buffy won't tell me if she met him or not!"
Joyce gave the Slayer a look that pleaded 'Please tell her what she wants to know!' With a long sigh, Buffy picked out a yogurt cup and closed the refrigerator. "Can I assume from your tone you mean your imaginary boyfriend?"
"YES!" Dawn exclaimed, before shooting her sister a dark look. "And he's not my imaginary boyfriend."
"Uh-huh!" Joyce and Buffy exchanged eyerolls as the middle Summers sat at the kitchen table. "Well, it just so happens that I had lunch with him today."
"You LIE!" Dawn exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock as she sat down across from Buffy.
"Completely true," the Slayer assured her sister, giving her a smug grin.
"You actually had lunch with Alexander Harris?" Joyce asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.
Buffy glared at both her mother and her sister. "What, are you two members of his fan club or something?"
Dawn actually nodded and pulled out her wallet to show her Official Membership Card. Joyce blushed slightly and turned back to her tea. "Well, he's supposedly one of the biggest patron of the arts in Sunnydale and Gotham City."
Buffy raised an eyebrow and gave her mother an amused look. "What? You want to invite him over for dinner and pump him for a grant?" Joyce had the good grace to blush a little more before giving Buffy a reproving look.
"I'll pump him!" Both Joyce and Buffy turned as one to stare opened mouth at a very grinning Dawn. "What?
"There will be no.pumping of Xander Harris!" Buffy said loudly as she glared at her sister. Turned at her mother and glared at her as well. "By anyone!" Joyce stared open-mouthed at her eldest daughter, before an almost hysterical giggle erupted from her lips. Grabbing her cup of tea, she walked out of the kitchen, mentioning something about dirty minds.
"Xander, eh?" Dawn said with a smug smile. "What, are you like his best friend now?"
"Hardly," Buffy responded with a roll of the eyes. "Him and Willow have apparently been best friends since the beginning of time. She calls him Xander, so I guess I call him Xander too."
Dawn grinned widely at her sister, bopping up and down in her seat. "Do you think your friend could introduce me to him?"
"No!" Pointing a finger at Dawn, Buffy leaned forward over the table. "Willow's coming over tonight to pick me up, and I don't want you pestering her about you disturbing obsession! Understand?" The two sisters exchanged glares for a moment, before Dawn nodded. Picking up her yogurt cup and a spoon, Buffy walked back into the living room where her mother was. "Mom?"
Joyce didn't look up from the book. "Hmm?"
"Uh, Willow invited me out tonight," Buffy started, pausing as her mother finally looked at her over her reading glasses. "Yeah. There's this.um.club. The Bronze. And, well, she invited me out. You know, kinda like 'show the new girl around' type of thing."
"Homework?"
"Just some reading to catch up on, which I can do before she gets here," Buffy answered quickly.
"Patrol?"
"Do it right after," the Slayer said, wincing internally.
"Which means you won't be home until what? Three?" Joyce was in full mom-mode now, placing her book on the coffee table and taking her glasses off. "Buffy, it's a school night. You're cranky enough in the morning, when you just do a patrol."
"But, my route in Sunnydale is a lot smaller then the one in LA, so it shouldn't take me nearly as long." Looking at her mother, Buffy pouted slightly. "And it'll probably the last time I get to just patrol Sunnydale. Giles wants me to start patrolling Gotham City too."
"What?" Joyce shouted, surprising Buffy and causing Dawn to poke her head out of the kitchen. "Rupert expects you to patrol Sunnydale and Gotham City?" she asked for clarification, her voice at a more normal level.
"Yes," Buffy nodded. "My reaction was almost as loud as yours."
"How can you be expected to go to school during the day and patrol such a large area at night?" Joyce was now talking to herself. "You can't do all that on a few hours of sleep every night! You'll be burned out in a week!"
Buffy watched silently as her mother proceeded to voice a long list of reasons why her daughter couldn't patrol Gotham City, which included time, energy and danger, among others. "What is she ranting about?" Dawn asked in a low voice, now standing beside her sister.
"Giles wants me to patrol Gotham City," Buffy answered, her voice low as well so not to interrupt her mother.
"Oh," the younger sister said with a nod, eyes following Joyce's' pacing. "Yeah. Mom wouldn't like that."
When it appeared that Joyce was not running out of steam in her tirade against a certain Englishman they all knew, Buffy cleared her throat loudly to get her mother's attention. "Um, Mom, you know I agree with everything you just said. Except maybe that part about Giles smoking his tea instead of drinking it." Buffy hurried on as Joyce began to look like she was ready to unload on the Slayer as well. "But, about tonight."
"It's fine, Buffy." Joyce set her jaw and glowered at no one in particular. "Rupert and I need to have a little talk to clarify you slaying schedule." With that, the eldest Summer picked up her book again and walked upstairs to her bedroom.
Buffy and Dawn waited until they heard the mother's door close, before letting out a breath. Dawn turned to her sister and shook her head. "I can't believe you can still play Giles and Mom off each other like that."
A slow grin spread across Buffy's face as she looked down at Dawn. "You have much to learn, young Grasshopper. Much to learn." Patting her younger sister on the head, Buffy bounded up the stairs and went to her room.
Dawn was left standing alone in the living room, glaring at the ceiling. "God do I wish I was an only child."
.___.___.
The penthouse of Gotham Plaza Towers has the single best view of Gotham City available. On a clear day, you can see the whole city laid out like a map, all the way to the very edge of Sunnydale. True, there weren't all that many clear days in Gotham, but even on a bad day, the view was spectacular. Huge bullet proof, soundproof windows surrounded the entire suit, glass tinting automatically depending on how much sunlight hits it. From this place, the fates of over a million people were decided every night.
Inside, a vampire watched a man shuffled cards with one hand.
Vincent Trick, called Mr. Trick by anyone with even an ounce of self preservation, was listening to a lieutenant tell him about the case being built against him by the District Attorney's office. Master vampire and crime boss of Gotham City for the past 20 years, the vampire appeared supremely confident.
He had a right to be.
The term Master wasn't one he took lightly, when he'd staked his predecessor and sire. He knew exactly what was expected of him. You couldn't rule a city like Gotham without being aware of everything that happened. From a mugging of a tourist to a multi-million dollar arms deal, Mr. Trick knew and controlled it all with an iron fist. In public he was the image of legitimate business in the 21'st Century. Polite, debonair and by first glance, completely law abiding. His public image was of a charitable businessman, who has been targeted for persecution by the establishment.
Or, that was what he paid a host of spin-doctors to portray. Truth was that anyone in the know, knew that he was as guilty as sin. The DAs Office was a tough nut to crack. Filled with true blue men and women who believed in justice and the rule of law, Trick was hardly surprised that they'd finally targeted him for prosecution. The Police Department was another kettle of fish all together. The average boy or girl in blue was usually willing to forget a certain detail with the proper monetary incentive. They could hardly be blamed for this flaw, being underpaid and under appreciated as they were. But the higher one went up the chain of command the harder it was to distract the police with money. Commissioner Gordon had been Top Cop for 10 years and would spit on Trick if they were ever close enough for him to do it.
Trick wasn't worried about it though. The police and district attorneys hadn't been able to get rid of his predecessor, and he was very confident that they wouldn't get rid of him. He was Mr. Trick. This was his city. Anyone who screwed with him was dead, whether they knew it or not. With that comforting thought in his head he glanced over at his General.
His most trusted advisor.
Jack Rapier.
It took a lot of effort for Trick not to growl at the sight of him.
Instead, Trick focused on the vampire that was speaking to the assembled group. Explaining in detail what they were up against in regards to the DA's Office. "In short, we're weakest in our front companies. If McDonald can tie you to Axis Chemicals.that's the ball game."
Jack Rapier slouched in his easy chair off to Trick's right, doing his trademark one-handed shuffle. "We can always pop him. Or someone close to him."
"Lets feed him to the Bat," one of the vampire Lieutenant's said, causing chuckles and quiet laughter from many of those present. Neither Trick nor Jack were amused.
"That's a short term solution," Trick said smoothly. "We'll still have a problem with the fronts. As much fun as it would be killing every DA in this city, they'll just get more. Lawyers are maggots. Where there's one, there's a million."
"We need to clean out our files before the subpoena comes down," one of the accountants advised.
"How do we do it?" Asked the vampire that made the joke about the Bat. "Strike a match?"
The group mulled it over, looking to Trick for his thoughts on the idea. "Arson gives us a nice write-off." The accountants nodded. " On the other hand, we do have a history of unexplained fires."
Jack shifted in his seat. "Break in." Trick and the others looked at him. "We go in, trash the office, make off with the files. Chalk it up to 'industrial espionage'."
Again the assorted thugs and gangsters mulled it over, some of them nodding. But as always, they looked to Mr. Trick for an answer. "I like it. Good idea, Jack." The master vampire leaned forward over his desk, his face deadly serious. "In fact, I'd like you to handle this operation.personally."
Jack's hand freezes over his lucky deck, his eyes staring off into space. "Me?"
At this moment the elevator doors open and out walks Lilah Morgan carrying numerous shopping bags. "Hello, sweetheart," Trick calls to her, a smile on his dark face. "I wonder if you would mind waiting in the other room."
Lilah saunters across the room, her gaze locking with Jack's right before she vanishes into a side room. "Why do you need me for a simple break-in?" Jack asks smirks slightly and lowers his eyes to his deck of cards.
The eye contact between his woman and his chief lieutenant isn't lost on Trick. "Because I want someone I can trust," the vampire says emphatically, giving Jack a look before turning to the others. "We'll need to move on this soon. Tomorrow night at the latest." Rising from his seat, Trick moved around the desk, signaling that the meeting was over. "Thank you gentlemen, that will be all for now."
Jack bridles and nervously turns the forth card off the top of the deck. It's not the jack he was expecting, but the Joker instead. The Joker has a neat .22 caliber hole through its face. Jack looks slightly perturbed as he stands up and lingers while the others leave. "Vince," the gangster says, still looking ill at ease. "You know, the fumes in that place."
"Jack, I need you on board with this." Placing a hand on both Jack's shoulders, Trick gave him a gentle squeeze. "I can't trust something this important to someone who'll screw it up."
Jack still looks less then thrilled but nods. "I understand."
As Jack turns to get his coat and hat and leave, Trick stops him. "Oh Jack." Getting the mortal's attention, the vampire walks up to him and hands him his playing cards. "Don't forget your lucky deck."
Jack pockets the deck and leaves, leaving Trick alone in the room. Going back behind his desk, the master vampire sits and presses a button on the underside of the desk. "My friend, your luck is about to change." The sound of a door sliding open is heard and two figures stroll out of the hidden room. A bank of security monitors can be seen glowing over their shoulders before the door slides back into place. "I presume you were watching?"
The smaller of the two newcomers glides out of the shadows dressed in a long black dress and twirls around the room. "You're going to turn the prince into a jester! Naughty, naughty!"
Trick leans back in his chair and gives the spinning girl a cool look. "Something like that."
"Poor sod." The other figure steps out of the shadows, his long black duster almost touching the floor. "He doesn't 'ave a clue yer settin' him up for the fall."
"No, he doesn't." Getting up, Trick went to the bar at the side of the room and mixed himself a blood and soda. "And you two are going to be there to make sure there are no mistakes." Turning back, he saw the bleached blond vampire siting behind his desk with his feet up. "You two do this for me, and you and Dru have a place in Gotham for as long as you two want." Walking up, Trick flipped the other vampire's feet off his desk, knocking him on his ass. "But Spike, if you two screw this up, I'll have your ashes spread from her to Metropolis."
Picking himself up off the floor, Spike growled at the dark skinned vampire, before a smug smile came to his lips. "No worries, mate." Putting a hand out, Drusilla danced into his arms. "Me and Dru will make sure your boy goes down and stays there."
Drusilla bowed her head and looked at Trick from underneath her long lashes, as her mate hugged her to his chest. "Oh my Spike will play your prank and you will laugh as the naughty prince looks the fool." Standing on her tiptoes, she grinned and licked Spike's ear. "But he won't be allowed to laugh long," she whispered so only her man could here.
.___.___.
The Bronze held a unique standing in Sunnydale. Located on the very fringes of the town, the club was a remodeled slaughterhouse, in what many called the bad side of town. Considering the size of Sunnydale, the bad side of town consisted of The Bronze, the old train station and a few warehouses that lay between them. All in all, about 2 small city blocks. The club was, aside from the mall and movie house, the only place for the younger crowd to congregate for the purposes of leisure. Dumbed down, it was where kids went to dance and try to get drunk.
It was usually half full every night of the week, with attendance shooting up on weekends and for special events. It attracted not only Sunnydale's elite youngsters, but also quite a few from nearby Gotham City. All and all, it was considered, by process of elimination if nothing else, as THE place to be, come nightfall.
Knowing all that, Xander stared at the building and the throngs of teenagers loitering outside with something akin to dread. From inside his car, he watched as people entered and exited the club. They laughed, joked and generally enjoyed themselves, comforted in the thought of a few days respite from school. Part of him wanted to be like them. Carefree. Worried about things like dating, clothes and the SATs. Oblivious to the dangers that lurked in shadows. Ignorant of how the darkness could suddenly become a living thing that would strike them or someone they cared for down.
As quickly as the tendrils of longing started, they were clamped down and subdued. Distraction was a dangerous thing for both Xander Harris and the Batman. Even here, in the deceptive safety of his car, he needed control. Control of himself, his environment, of everything.
Many would have called his need for order and control to be unhealthy. A side effect of witnessing the sudden and violent deaths of his parents at such a young age. Doctors would recommend a regime of intensive therapy and prescription drugs, at the very least. Perhaps, an extended stay a 'health resort'.
It was only Xander's ability to submerge his emotions and focus, which no one had an inkling of the all emcompassing need for control that he dealt with everyday. Learned at an early age and perfected by years of practice, Xander Harris was in complete control of himself at all times. Down to the heartbeat, if he felt the need. He was in control. Always.
"Always," he said to himself, eyes locked onto the people in front of the Bronze.
Being the first one home, the Slayer had the place all to herself. It wouldn't last long, she knew. At that very moment her mother, Joyce Summers, would be picking up Buffy's sister, Dawn from Junior High. And wherever Dawn Summers was, peace and quiet were surely not.
So, for the moment, Buffy slumped down on the couch and closed her eyes. Her first day at Sunnydale High School had gone as well as she could have hoped. She'd found where all her classes were, got a feel for the school and had made a friend. 'Willow," Buffy said to herself, an amused smile playing on her face as she thought about the redhead.
The two had hit it off immediately, when Willow had offered to share her history textbook in one first class they'd shared. Willow welcomed Buffy to Sunnydale and asked the sort of first questions one expects as the new girl. Buffy had answered with well-prepared answers, steering well clear of any sort of avenue that would hint at her being the Slayer.
Buffy hated doing that. Starting off any friendship, any relationship, with lies. Lies of omission, if nothing else. But as both her mother and Giles had told her hundreds of times, it was for everyone's good. Buffy's destiny as the Slayer was fraught with peril. Anyone who knew her and of her status, was in danger of becoming a target for the demons she hunted. That was the main reason that Buffy had hid her 'Chosen One'-ness from her mother and sister for so long. To save them both the late nights of worry and fear. The saying 'ignorance is bliss' was true when it came to Buffy.
Of course her mother and sister had both found out eventually. Between the bloodstained clothes in the laundry and frequent calls from the police to come pick up her eldest daughter, Joyce realized that Buffy had been up to something she didn't know about. But it wasn't until Lothos, Master vampire of Los Angeles, had kidnapped both Dawn and Joyce that the full truth had come out. Watching Buffy fight off an army of demons and then slay Lothos, bred quite a few pointed questions. With Giles grudging consent, her mother and sister had been fully briefed on Buffy's role as the Slayer.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Except for of course, the fact that no one ELSE was allowed to know. Friends were hard to keep when you had to cancel plans at the last minute to stop the apocalypse, and make up excuses why you can't go to the movies, because some new Big Bad had breezed into town and wanted to eat your face. And if friends were hard to keep, boyfriends were next to impossible. The only boy she had ever dated after becoming the Slayer had been Pike. Pike had known all about her Slayerness from the start, after Buffy had saved him from becoming a late night snack.
It had been.well great, to have someone her age, who she could talk to about everything. As much as Giles and her mother tried, they just couldn't understand on the same level as Pike could. He would keep her company on patrols, distract her when she was feeling sorry for herself. He was the best and truest friend she'd ever had.
All his loyalty and bravery hadn't been enough to stop a vampire from tearing his throat out.
She'd watched it happen. Running through that empty park as fast as she could, but not fast enough. Part of her mind knew that it had taken only seconds for the vampire to kill Pike. Knew that he'd seen her coming, knew she was the Slayer. Knew she was watching as his fangs tore through the flesh of Pike's neck, bit down hard, and ripped away flesh as the reddest blood Buffy had ever seen gushed forth from her best friend, pouring his life onto the dead grass underfoot. She remembered with perfect clarity how Pike fell limply as the vampire prepared to face her. The brief look of surprise as the stake she threw from 15 feet away entered his heart and he turned to dust, Pike's blood still staining his face.
She held Pike in that park for what seemed like hours, simply crying. She'd never cried so much in her life as she did that night. Not when her father left, or when she learned she would have to leave LA. All things seemed so small in the face of her failure of Pike. She would have held him there forever, if Giles hadn't found them that night. He'd picked her up and simply held her, his comfort making her cry all the harder.
After that, they never had another discussion about the importance of keeping her identity as the Slayer a secret.
Buffy's moment of self-reflection was abruptly ended with the sound of a car driving up to the house. Opening her eyes, she saw her mother and sister exiting the Bronco, Dawn chattering excitedly to Joyce about her day. "I mean it! The school is SO much cooler then the one back in LA," her younger sister could be heard saying, as the front door opened. "I mean.WAY cooler!"
"So you've said about a dozen times now, Dawn. I get it. You like your school. It's great." Giving her youngest daughter and indulgent grin, Joyce turned to Buffy and gave her a slightly more concerned look. "How was your first day, honey?"
Giving her mother a smile, Buffy shrugged. "Pretty good. Found all my classes. And considering the school is about five times the size of my old one, I'm rather proud of it!"
Joyce laughed and patted her eldest daughter on the head, while Dawn just rolled her eyes at Buffy. "And did you make any friends?" Joyce asked as she put her purse on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen.
"More importantly, did you meet HIM??" Dawn asked before Buffy could answer her mother.
Choosing to ignore her sister, the Slayer instead followed Joyce into the kitchen. "Yes, actually, Willow. She's in a couple of my classes. She shared her textbook with me in History. We hit it off really, well." Giving her mother a saucy grin, Buffy patted her mother on the head. "No need to feel guilty about tearing me away from everyone I knew for my senior year of high school." Joyce simply stuck her tongue out at Buffy, before turning and putting the kettle on to boil and pretending to miss the mock look of outrage the Slayer gave her.
"Well?" Dawn said as she entered the kitchen, hands on her hips. "Did you even see him?"
Walking to the fridge and opening it, Buffy made a show of looking for something to eat. "Why Dawn, whom ever do you mean?"
"Maaaaaaaahm!" Dawn whined, causing involuntary stiffening of the spine in both Joyce and Buffy. "Buffy won't tell me if she met him or not!"
Joyce gave the Slayer a look that pleaded 'Please tell her what she wants to know!' With a long sigh, Buffy picked out a yogurt cup and closed the refrigerator. "Can I assume from your tone you mean your imaginary boyfriend?"
"YES!" Dawn exclaimed, before shooting her sister a dark look. "And he's not my imaginary boyfriend."
"Uh-huh!" Joyce and Buffy exchanged eyerolls as the middle Summers sat at the kitchen table. "Well, it just so happens that I had lunch with him today."
"You LIE!" Dawn exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock as she sat down across from Buffy.
"Completely true," the Slayer assured her sister, giving her a smug grin.
"You actually had lunch with Alexander Harris?" Joyce asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.
Buffy glared at both her mother and her sister. "What, are you two members of his fan club or something?"
Dawn actually nodded and pulled out her wallet to show her Official Membership Card. Joyce blushed slightly and turned back to her tea. "Well, he's supposedly one of the biggest patron of the arts in Sunnydale and Gotham City."
Buffy raised an eyebrow and gave her mother an amused look. "What? You want to invite him over for dinner and pump him for a grant?" Joyce had the good grace to blush a little more before giving Buffy a reproving look.
"I'll pump him!" Both Joyce and Buffy turned as one to stare opened mouth at a very grinning Dawn. "What?
"There will be no.pumping of Xander Harris!" Buffy said loudly as she glared at her sister. Turned at her mother and glared at her as well. "By anyone!" Joyce stared open-mouthed at her eldest daughter, before an almost hysterical giggle erupted from her lips. Grabbing her cup of tea, she walked out of the kitchen, mentioning something about dirty minds.
"Xander, eh?" Dawn said with a smug smile. "What, are you like his best friend now?"
"Hardly," Buffy responded with a roll of the eyes. "Him and Willow have apparently been best friends since the beginning of time. She calls him Xander, so I guess I call him Xander too."
Dawn grinned widely at her sister, bopping up and down in her seat. "Do you think your friend could introduce me to him?"
"No!" Pointing a finger at Dawn, Buffy leaned forward over the table. "Willow's coming over tonight to pick me up, and I don't want you pestering her about you disturbing obsession! Understand?" The two sisters exchanged glares for a moment, before Dawn nodded. Picking up her yogurt cup and a spoon, Buffy walked back into the living room where her mother was. "Mom?"
Joyce didn't look up from the book. "Hmm?"
"Uh, Willow invited me out tonight," Buffy started, pausing as her mother finally looked at her over her reading glasses. "Yeah. There's this.um.club. The Bronze. And, well, she invited me out. You know, kinda like 'show the new girl around' type of thing."
"Homework?"
"Just some reading to catch up on, which I can do before she gets here," Buffy answered quickly.
"Patrol?"
"Do it right after," the Slayer said, wincing internally.
"Which means you won't be home until what? Three?" Joyce was in full mom-mode now, placing her book on the coffee table and taking her glasses off. "Buffy, it's a school night. You're cranky enough in the morning, when you just do a patrol."
"But, my route in Sunnydale is a lot smaller then the one in LA, so it shouldn't take me nearly as long." Looking at her mother, Buffy pouted slightly. "And it'll probably the last time I get to just patrol Sunnydale. Giles wants me to start patrolling Gotham City too."
"What?" Joyce shouted, surprising Buffy and causing Dawn to poke her head out of the kitchen. "Rupert expects you to patrol Sunnydale and Gotham City?" she asked for clarification, her voice at a more normal level.
"Yes," Buffy nodded. "My reaction was almost as loud as yours."
"How can you be expected to go to school during the day and patrol such a large area at night?" Joyce was now talking to herself. "You can't do all that on a few hours of sleep every night! You'll be burned out in a week!"
Buffy watched silently as her mother proceeded to voice a long list of reasons why her daughter couldn't patrol Gotham City, which included time, energy and danger, among others. "What is she ranting about?" Dawn asked in a low voice, now standing beside her sister.
"Giles wants me to patrol Gotham City," Buffy answered, her voice low as well so not to interrupt her mother.
"Oh," the younger sister said with a nod, eyes following Joyce's' pacing. "Yeah. Mom wouldn't like that."
When it appeared that Joyce was not running out of steam in her tirade against a certain Englishman they all knew, Buffy cleared her throat loudly to get her mother's attention. "Um, Mom, you know I agree with everything you just said. Except maybe that part about Giles smoking his tea instead of drinking it." Buffy hurried on as Joyce began to look like she was ready to unload on the Slayer as well. "But, about tonight."
"It's fine, Buffy." Joyce set her jaw and glowered at no one in particular. "Rupert and I need to have a little talk to clarify you slaying schedule." With that, the eldest Summer picked up her book again and walked upstairs to her bedroom.
Buffy and Dawn waited until they heard the mother's door close, before letting out a breath. Dawn turned to her sister and shook her head. "I can't believe you can still play Giles and Mom off each other like that."
A slow grin spread across Buffy's face as she looked down at Dawn. "You have much to learn, young Grasshopper. Much to learn." Patting her younger sister on the head, Buffy bounded up the stairs and went to her room.
Dawn was left standing alone in the living room, glaring at the ceiling. "God do I wish I was an only child."
.___.___.
The penthouse of Gotham Plaza Towers has the single best view of Gotham City available. On a clear day, you can see the whole city laid out like a map, all the way to the very edge of Sunnydale. True, there weren't all that many clear days in Gotham, but even on a bad day, the view was spectacular. Huge bullet proof, soundproof windows surrounded the entire suit, glass tinting automatically depending on how much sunlight hits it. From this place, the fates of over a million people were decided every night.
Inside, a vampire watched a man shuffled cards with one hand.
Vincent Trick, called Mr. Trick by anyone with even an ounce of self preservation, was listening to a lieutenant tell him about the case being built against him by the District Attorney's office. Master vampire and crime boss of Gotham City for the past 20 years, the vampire appeared supremely confident.
He had a right to be.
The term Master wasn't one he took lightly, when he'd staked his predecessor and sire. He knew exactly what was expected of him. You couldn't rule a city like Gotham without being aware of everything that happened. From a mugging of a tourist to a multi-million dollar arms deal, Mr. Trick knew and controlled it all with an iron fist. In public he was the image of legitimate business in the 21'st Century. Polite, debonair and by first glance, completely law abiding. His public image was of a charitable businessman, who has been targeted for persecution by the establishment.
Or, that was what he paid a host of spin-doctors to portray. Truth was that anyone in the know, knew that he was as guilty as sin. The DAs Office was a tough nut to crack. Filled with true blue men and women who believed in justice and the rule of law, Trick was hardly surprised that they'd finally targeted him for prosecution. The Police Department was another kettle of fish all together. The average boy or girl in blue was usually willing to forget a certain detail with the proper monetary incentive. They could hardly be blamed for this flaw, being underpaid and under appreciated as they were. But the higher one went up the chain of command the harder it was to distract the police with money. Commissioner Gordon had been Top Cop for 10 years and would spit on Trick if they were ever close enough for him to do it.
Trick wasn't worried about it though. The police and district attorneys hadn't been able to get rid of his predecessor, and he was very confident that they wouldn't get rid of him. He was Mr. Trick. This was his city. Anyone who screwed with him was dead, whether they knew it or not. With that comforting thought in his head he glanced over at his General.
His most trusted advisor.
Jack Rapier.
It took a lot of effort for Trick not to growl at the sight of him.
Instead, Trick focused on the vampire that was speaking to the assembled group. Explaining in detail what they were up against in regards to the DA's Office. "In short, we're weakest in our front companies. If McDonald can tie you to Axis Chemicals.that's the ball game."
Jack Rapier slouched in his easy chair off to Trick's right, doing his trademark one-handed shuffle. "We can always pop him. Or someone close to him."
"Lets feed him to the Bat," one of the vampire Lieutenant's said, causing chuckles and quiet laughter from many of those present. Neither Trick nor Jack were amused.
"That's a short term solution," Trick said smoothly. "We'll still have a problem with the fronts. As much fun as it would be killing every DA in this city, they'll just get more. Lawyers are maggots. Where there's one, there's a million."
"We need to clean out our files before the subpoena comes down," one of the accountants advised.
"How do we do it?" Asked the vampire that made the joke about the Bat. "Strike a match?"
The group mulled it over, looking to Trick for his thoughts on the idea. "Arson gives us a nice write-off." The accountants nodded. " On the other hand, we do have a history of unexplained fires."
Jack shifted in his seat. "Break in." Trick and the others looked at him. "We go in, trash the office, make off with the files. Chalk it up to 'industrial espionage'."
Again the assorted thugs and gangsters mulled it over, some of them nodding. But as always, they looked to Mr. Trick for an answer. "I like it. Good idea, Jack." The master vampire leaned forward over his desk, his face deadly serious. "In fact, I'd like you to handle this operation.personally."
Jack's hand freezes over his lucky deck, his eyes staring off into space. "Me?"
At this moment the elevator doors open and out walks Lilah Morgan carrying numerous shopping bags. "Hello, sweetheart," Trick calls to her, a smile on his dark face. "I wonder if you would mind waiting in the other room."
Lilah saunters across the room, her gaze locking with Jack's right before she vanishes into a side room. "Why do you need me for a simple break-in?" Jack asks smirks slightly and lowers his eyes to his deck of cards.
The eye contact between his woman and his chief lieutenant isn't lost on Trick. "Because I want someone I can trust," the vampire says emphatically, giving Jack a look before turning to the others. "We'll need to move on this soon. Tomorrow night at the latest." Rising from his seat, Trick moved around the desk, signaling that the meeting was over. "Thank you gentlemen, that will be all for now."
Jack bridles and nervously turns the forth card off the top of the deck. It's not the jack he was expecting, but the Joker instead. The Joker has a neat .22 caliber hole through its face. Jack looks slightly perturbed as he stands up and lingers while the others leave. "Vince," the gangster says, still looking ill at ease. "You know, the fumes in that place."
"Jack, I need you on board with this." Placing a hand on both Jack's shoulders, Trick gave him a gentle squeeze. "I can't trust something this important to someone who'll screw it up."
Jack still looks less then thrilled but nods. "I understand."
As Jack turns to get his coat and hat and leave, Trick stops him. "Oh Jack." Getting the mortal's attention, the vampire walks up to him and hands him his playing cards. "Don't forget your lucky deck."
Jack pockets the deck and leaves, leaving Trick alone in the room. Going back behind his desk, the master vampire sits and presses a button on the underside of the desk. "My friend, your luck is about to change." The sound of a door sliding open is heard and two figures stroll out of the hidden room. A bank of security monitors can be seen glowing over their shoulders before the door slides back into place. "I presume you were watching?"
The smaller of the two newcomers glides out of the shadows dressed in a long black dress and twirls around the room. "You're going to turn the prince into a jester! Naughty, naughty!"
Trick leans back in his chair and gives the spinning girl a cool look. "Something like that."
"Poor sod." The other figure steps out of the shadows, his long black duster almost touching the floor. "He doesn't 'ave a clue yer settin' him up for the fall."
"No, he doesn't." Getting up, Trick went to the bar at the side of the room and mixed himself a blood and soda. "And you two are going to be there to make sure there are no mistakes." Turning back, he saw the bleached blond vampire siting behind his desk with his feet up. "You two do this for me, and you and Dru have a place in Gotham for as long as you two want." Walking up, Trick flipped the other vampire's feet off his desk, knocking him on his ass. "But Spike, if you two screw this up, I'll have your ashes spread from her to Metropolis."
Picking himself up off the floor, Spike growled at the dark skinned vampire, before a smug smile came to his lips. "No worries, mate." Putting a hand out, Drusilla danced into his arms. "Me and Dru will make sure your boy goes down and stays there."
Drusilla bowed her head and looked at Trick from underneath her long lashes, as her mate hugged her to his chest. "Oh my Spike will play your prank and you will laugh as the naughty prince looks the fool." Standing on her tiptoes, she grinned and licked Spike's ear. "But he won't be allowed to laugh long," she whispered so only her man could here.
.___.___.
The Bronze held a unique standing in Sunnydale. Located on the very fringes of the town, the club was a remodeled slaughterhouse, in what many called the bad side of town. Considering the size of Sunnydale, the bad side of town consisted of The Bronze, the old train station and a few warehouses that lay between them. All in all, about 2 small city blocks. The club was, aside from the mall and movie house, the only place for the younger crowd to congregate for the purposes of leisure. Dumbed down, it was where kids went to dance and try to get drunk.
It was usually half full every night of the week, with attendance shooting up on weekends and for special events. It attracted not only Sunnydale's elite youngsters, but also quite a few from nearby Gotham City. All and all, it was considered, by process of elimination if nothing else, as THE place to be, come nightfall.
Knowing all that, Xander stared at the building and the throngs of teenagers loitering outside with something akin to dread. From inside his car, he watched as people entered and exited the club. They laughed, joked and generally enjoyed themselves, comforted in the thought of a few days respite from school. Part of him wanted to be like them. Carefree. Worried about things like dating, clothes and the SATs. Oblivious to the dangers that lurked in shadows. Ignorant of how the darkness could suddenly become a living thing that would strike them or someone they cared for down.
As quickly as the tendrils of longing started, they were clamped down and subdued. Distraction was a dangerous thing for both Xander Harris and the Batman. Even here, in the deceptive safety of his car, he needed control. Control of himself, his environment, of everything.
Many would have called his need for order and control to be unhealthy. A side effect of witnessing the sudden and violent deaths of his parents at such a young age. Doctors would recommend a regime of intensive therapy and prescription drugs, at the very least. Perhaps, an extended stay a 'health resort'.
It was only Xander's ability to submerge his emotions and focus, which no one had an inkling of the all emcompassing need for control that he dealt with everyday. Learned at an early age and perfected by years of practice, Xander Harris was in complete control of himself at all times. Down to the heartbeat, if he felt the need. He was in control. Always.
"Always," he said to himself, eyes locked onto the people in front of the Bronze.