Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. Especially you, Willum. It's nice to hear from you after so long. Nice to know you still check out my stuff once in awhile. I've been kind of absent from the FF.net world for awhile. I do hope everyone enjoys this story. I am really enjoying writing it. Also, about those weird ¼ thing, hopefully they won't appear anymore. I'm pretty sure of what was causing it, so hopefully the problem is solved. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter. I'd also like to send out a special thank you to my friend Sean, a.k.a. Finn Mac Cool, who has REALLY been helping me along the way on this piece of work. You don't know how much your input means! Thank you so much. On with the story..
/// Chapter One ///
Buffy hung up her thin wool jacket on the hook inside her small cubicle at the high school. She fluffed her hair a little and sat down at her desk to check out her schedule for the day. She had a couple of students already scheduled to come in and talk with her, but those appointments didn't start until after nine o'clock. That give her two whole hours to do - not much.
She slumped in her chair, feeling bored. Being a student counselor for the new high school had sounded like a great deal at first: she'd get to be on campus as much as she liked, she could keep a close eye on Dawn to make sure she didn't get into any trouble, and she could try her best to keep the students and faculty safe from whatever unholy hell decided to rear its ugly head.
She only hoped her sister's class would have a more smoothly running graduation than her's had. Considering the school even made it to graduation. But still, all that aside, Buffy found herself feeling quite bored most of the time. She loved talking to the kids about their problems, but - when she was alone, she wondered how much of a point her job really had.
Of course she would never say any of that out loud.
Any job was better than slinging burgers at the Doublemeat Palace. At least that's what she kept telling herself.
Sighing, Buffy leaned back in her chair, and she was just about to think about maybe secretly taking a nap in the nurse's office when her phone rang. She leapt up straight, suddenly alert, afraid she might get caught lazing about on the job. Principal Wood was no Snyder when it came to strictness, but Buffy didn't want to take any chances whatsoever.
"Buffy Summers," the Slayer said, answering the phone. "How can I help you?"
"Buffy!," a voice cried over a thick film of static. "Buffy, it's me!"
"Willow?," Buffy queried, straining to hear her friend. She wasn't coming through very well. "Will, are you on a cell phone?"
"Yeah, I'm over on campus getting some things straightened out," Willow informed the Slayer. "You know I'm supposed to be starting up school again here soon. I just saw the morning paper. Do you have it?"
Perplexed, Buffy rummaged through some papers on her desk. She knew she'd picked up the Sunnydale Press on her way into the building; it was in there somewhere. There! She shoved some papers out of the way and brought the newspaper to the forefront, looking over its contents.
"What am I lookin' at?," Buffy asked.
"Page two," Willow said quickly. Buffy turned the page and saw a small article detailing a disappearance. "It was the museum curator. The report says he mysteriously vanished. All that was left were some scorch marks on the ground. And - an empty crate. That's it."
"What was in the crate?," Buffy asked, quickly scanning over the article.
"A dinosaur skull," Willow replied at length. "I don't know about you, but when I read that, I thought to myself, 'Self, that sounds pretty fishy'. What do you think? Should the Slayer get on the job?"
"It does sound weird," Buffy concurred. "I'll stop by the museum today after school lets out. Thanks for the tip, Will."
"No problem," Willow said. "It's just a part of the job description as Slayer helper."
"You sound like you're feeling better," Buffy remarked.
"I don't know, I guess it was just a slow morning," Willow said. "Once I took a shower, I felt a little better. Don't worry about me."
"Well that's part of my job description as best friend," Buffy replied.
"Look, Buffy, I gotta scoot," Willow said suddenly. "I'll check back with you later on today about what you find at the museum."
"Sounds good," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes. "Bye, Willow."
The other girl hung up, and Buffy looked down at the newspaper article splayed out in front of her. It looked like what was going to be a slow day was starting out to be something entirely different.
///
Willow stopped just outside the building she'd been walking towards while talking to Buffy on the phone. She took a deep breath. Part of her knew she shouldn't be doing something like this. She knew it might be dangerous. She didn't even really know how her powers worked now. Not exactly, anyway. Sure, she'd gone through some rigorous lesson-learning with Giles over in England, but she was pretty much untested in the real world.
But the other part of her, the part that simply wanted to throw caution to the wind and not care about the consequences magick could bring, wanted to forget about worrying and just do.
Nodding, finally resigning herself to the fact that she was going to do this, Willow approached the small magic shop that had somehow mysteriously shown up not long after the destruction of the Magic Box - which Willow was kind of partly responsible for. Okay, fully responsible. Buffy had only been trying to stop her after she'd gone all black-magick-queen-of-darkness, and much damage had occured. No one really held it against her (except for Anya, but only a little) but she still felt guilty about it.
However, those thoughts were distant from her mind as she entered this new place. As the heavy wooden door slowly shut behind her, the thick smell of incense and the sharp scent of lavender filled her nostrils. She grinned despite herself, unable to control her glee. She always felt like a kid in a candy store whenever she was in a magick shop. All the supplies, and the books and the smells...it was enough to make her feel all tingly inside.
She took a few steps into the dimly lit store, engrossed in the peculiar little artifacts scattered about on small wooden tables situated throughout the very square one-story shop. She fingered a couple of bright golden crystals, and she was distantly aware in her mind that they could be used to dispel an evil force from your home if used with the right incantation. Across the room she spotted a couple of other things that piqued her interest, and she ambled over to them, enchanted by this quaint new place. It seemed so homey, and Willow felt like she...belonged there.
She was just beginning to admire a sparkly little charm necklace that was supposed to give its wearer momentary extra intelligence, when a hand landed on her shoulder.
Gasping, she spun around, and only managed to catch her breath when she saw a handsome looking man who looked to be somewhere in his late twenties or maybe even his early thirties, with hair as dark as coal and eyes of deep azure blue. His skin was slightly tanned, and Willow wasn't sure if that was from the California sun or if it might be part of his heritage.
"Quite pretty little charm, isn't it?," the man asked. Willow suddenly realized he must have been the owner of the shop.
"Uh - uh, yeah, real sparkly," Willow said, laying the charm necklace back in its original place. "But, but that's not what I really came here for. I just needed some, some stuff. You know, little stuff. Real little. 'Cause, 'ya know, wouldn't wanna do anything too big. That could be troublesome."
"I see," the man said, grinning a little. "Anything I can help you find - Willow?"
Abruptly, Willow looked up, making eye contact with the shop owner. She looked at him suspiciously.
"How - how did you know my name?," she asked.
"Well, I run a magick shop," he told her with a twinkle in his eyes. "You would expect me to have magickal powers, wouldn't you?" Willow raised an eyebrow dubiously. "Okay, so I saw your name on that form sticking out of your bag." Willow looked down at her satchel slung over her shoulder and noticed that the top part of her re-admittance form for U.C. Sunnydale was hanging out, ready for all to see.
"Good one," Willow deadpanned.
"Well now that I know your name, it's only fair to introduce myself," the man said slyly. "I'm Darren. Darren Monroe."
"Willow Rosenberg," Willow said, extending her hand. Darren took it in his own and shook it firmly. He looked down at her pale, frail hand and nodded almost appreciatively.
"I can sense the magick in you," he told her. "You are very powerful."
"Yeah, well, that's me," Willow said uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to another. "Powerful Willow. That's what they call me – at - places. Magick places. That old Willow, all powerful and, and whatnot."
Darren chuckled a little at Willow's babbling.
"You have no need to be nervous around me, Willow," Darren said soothingly. "You're among friends."
"Always good to know," Willow said. "I need some mandrake root. And a couple of sparrow livers."
"Ah, you are interested in time travel," Darren said slyly.
"Well, not really," Willow murmured, looking away. "I mean, it's a simple time pool spell. All you've got to do is put the sparrow liver in the water and sprinkle in some of the mandrake, and then.."
"I know how to cast a time pool spell," Darren said with a grin. "What time are you planning on looking in on? Anything specific?"
"It's kind of - personal," Willow replied.
"I understand," Darren said with a slow nod. "Not every magician likes to reveal their secrets, if you know what I mean."
"Y-Yeah," Willow agreed. "That's all it is, magickal secrecy."
"Let me go get you those ingredients," Darren said, disappearing. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, Willow went back to perusing other items in the store while Darren was away gathering up the things she requested. She walked near the back of the store, and noticed a large box stuffed with straw. A very large box. Curious, Willow started walking towards it, wondering what could be inside it. Whatever it was, it had to be humongous.
She was just about to move away some of the straw when suddenly, Darren spun her around by tugging on her shoulder forcefully.
"I have your ingredients," he said thickly, a look of what seemed to be momentary fear crossing over his face. As if he was afraid he might get caught doing something wrong. "That'll be twelve dollars and seventy-five cents."
"Wow, uh, that much?," Willow said, voice shaking, as she nervously edged away from the gigantic box. "You might remember a store, the Magic Box, I kind of used to work there. Well, until it got all blowed up and stuff. You might not know about that. But their prices were a lot, uh, lower."
"Well, a guy has to make a profit, doesn't he?," Darren said, almost icily. For a few moments, there was absolute silence. Willow fished around in her bag and produced thirteen dollars, and thrust the bills into the man's hand. She smiled up at him nervously, and then started to walk away.
"Thanks for the stuff," Willow said over her shoulder.
"Any time," Darren called back to her as the door to the shop closed behind her.
///
Dawn opened her locker as all the other Sunnydale High students milled about on all sides of her. Before she could grab out her books to take home with her that day, a small piece of paper slipped out, and she caught it before it fell.
"Dawn –
Come to my office after the final bell. Field trip.
- Buffy"
She sighed and shut her locker door, rolling her eyes. So she was probably going to have to go along on some demon hunting extravaganza or something, and she didn't exactly feel like it today. She supposed she'd practically begged Buffy to let her in on the slayage but it was kind of a tough gig, especially for a sixteen year old high schooler. Sometimes Dawn wondered how Buffy did it when she had been in high school. Life had way too many responsibilities sometimes.
Boot heels clicking on the linoleum hallways, Dawn made her way towards the front office. She wondered where exactly they'd be going this time. If it was anything like their last "field trip", she was going to make Buffy get inside the kiddie coffin this time. Dawn had no problems going under-cover for a mission, but sometimes it just went a little too far.
She reached the office door and headed inside.
"Dawn!," Buffy called out, coming out of her cubicle. "There you are. Are you ready to go?"
"As long as it doesn't involve the Sunnydale funeral home, I'm game," Dawn mumbled, and at the same instant, Principal Wood appeared, looking at the two Summers women with quirked eyebrows, face contorted with confusion.
"The funeral home?," he asked, sounding perplexed.
"She didn't say funeral home," Buffy quickly said, eyes flashing back and forth between her sister and her boss. Dawn mouthed the words "I'm sorry" and looked away, eyes cast down towards her feet. "She said, uh, well, actually she did say funeral home. 'Cause, well, who wants to go to the funeral home? You know Dawn and her wacky sense of humor."
"Yeah," Wood said slowly, nodding. He smiled a little. "I think I might go back to slightly-less-crazy-person-filled office. You girls try not to get into too much trouble, all right?"
"Big check on the no trouble," Buffy said with a grin. Still looking slightly confounded from Buffy's ramblings, Wood shuffled away from the two young women and retreated to his office. Buffy breathed an audible sigh of relief and leaned against the outer wall of her cubicle. She sent a little glare Dawn's way. "Gee, Tactic Girl, could you have been any more blabber-mouthy?"
"I didn't know he was there," Dawn insisted.
"Never mind that now," Buffy admonished, gathering up her things. "We've got some work to do."
"Yeah, what's up with this field trip thing?," Dawn asked.
"We're going to the museum," Buffy informed her as they headed out of the office and into the main hall of the school. "Willow thinks something might be up. The curator's gone missing."
"You think he got ate up?," Dawn asked blithely.
"We're gonna find out," Buffy replied firmly.
/// chapter 2 coming soon ///