Chapter 6
Giles stretches his arms out and then arches his back, with his hands on the lower part. He pours himself some tea. He looks at his watch. It has Roman Numerals in place of numbers.
"Almost 6:30," he comments before taking another sip and setting the glass down, so he can prepare the library for opening.
The doors burst open and there is Buffy, along with everyone else. Pryce walks into a closing door. He enters with a red mark on his head and a straightens his neck tie.
"You're all here on time," an amazed Giles speaks.
"We used my car again. Can't I get some kind of Slayerette gas mileage reimbursement?" says Xander.
Buffy stands in front of the room. Oz, Willow and Xander sit down.
"Where's Cordillia?" he asks.
"I don't want to bring her into this. I only invited her the other day to warn her. Same with Angel. He doesn't even know and I see no reason to tell him."
"Buffy, what happened?" asks Giles. He lowers the tea cup. Warm vapor is still raising from it.
"Giles, it's getting bad. I mean really bad. We found five dead bodies last night."
"Oh my god, five?" says Willow.
Xander hangs his head down and shakes it yes.
"We killed another whitey. I buried it in my back yard, but there were four more. We had to leave them. Are they just going to keep coming? I don't have that much room left. Giles, please tell me you have something. We're running on low here."
"Well, actually, Wesley did find something."
"Yes. The Council looked up every reference book on rituals. The Chamillas are vessels. they are used in some way to bring forth a 'Profound Change'. They are summoned by the blood of the dead who are killed with a dagger whose blade has been ordained with the blood of the Caller and a vessel. It's an ancient and rare ritual and that's all they could find. It doesn't say what the change is," Wesley finishes.
"Could this in some way be related to the Ascension?" asks Buffy.
"Well, there's no way to know for sure since we don't know what the Ascension itself entails. But it seems rather likely no ordinary person would know such ritualistic activities. Especially when we ourselves don't," Giles comments.
Buffy turns to Willow and speaks, "Willow, any..."
The doors open and in strides Snyder. He eyes then with malevolence.
"What are you all doing here? The library doesn't open till seven," he grumbles.
"If it's any consolation, I don't even want to be here," says Xander looking up at Snyder.
Snyder leans in with his hands on the back part of Xander's chair and replies, "Mr. Harris, you're not funny even when you are wide awake. If you don't want to be here, we can always try I. S. S. "
"We were studying. We had a late night and wanted to get caught up early," Willow jumps in to the rescue.
"Miss Rosenberg, you wouldn't be lying to me would you? If you were studying, then where are your books? Pens? Paper," he emphasizes the last word.
"Ah ... we just got here."
"Is that true?" Snyder looks at Oz. Oz raises an eyebrow and braces for a stare down.
"It is. They just arrived, but not five minutes ago. I permitted them entrance. Seven is not that far off," says Giles.
"Very well, and who might this be?" He eyes Wesley suspiciously.
Puts out his right hand, "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, pleased to meet you."
Snyder snubs his gesture and asks, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a friend of Mister Giles here," he replies.
"Is this true?" Snyder moves his eyes to Giles.
"Yes," he sips the tea again.
"I'm here in American for a couple of months and am catching up on the old bloke."
"Very well, but no dilly-dallying. And don't think just because I didn't talk to you Miss Summers, that I;m not watching you," he walks backwards to the doors. He points two fingers to his eyes, then to them.
The door he exists through swings back and forth till it shuts. Xander points to his ass and then gives the finger to the door.
"What an awful little man," says Wesley.
"Correct - and we would also have excepted grotesque," says Xander.
"Where did you learn that word?" asks Willow.
"Oddly enough, English class."
Snyder walks to the right and there standing against the wall is officer Kamen.
"Well?" Kamen asks.
"They're studying," Snyder replies.
"Studying? At 6:30 in the morning?"
"You want me to get her?"
"No ... no. I'll pay her a visit at her own home later today," replies Kamen.
"Very good. It's just what this wayward little youth needs. A little authoritative reminder.":
"Let me ask you something Mr. Snyder. What's your impression of her?"
"Born trouble maker. Rowdy, destructive, opinionated little snot."
"Talks a lot for her age you're saying?"
"Yes! Never shuts up. Always hanging around with that librarian."
"It is my belief that women should know when to speak. Speak only when spoken too maybe."
Snyder's micifous, smug grin disappears when he shuts his mouth. Clearly Kamen's views are strong and somewhat unsettling. But he dare not argue with the man.
"Willow, the hack?" asks Buffy.
"Still nothing on reports, but I did find photos. They're in poor quality and for some reason they are all taken at the same angle. Here," she shifts through her backpack until she finds a folder and pulls out a color print, "they all have the same mark smeared on their foreheads."
Buffy looks at it and passes it on to Giles. He takes his glasses off and examines the picture.
"I'm not familiar with it," he passes it to Pryce.
"Let me see ... me neither. I'll go ahead and fax this over to the Council."
"Thanks," says Buffy.
The symbol is the top half of an oval with two obtuse inward pointing vertical lines. Two lines going away from the center are on the top ends of the oval half.
"It may not be safe any longer to patrol. The cops are probably going to be watching all the cemeteries now. But I can't give up. If it's some sort of demon, then they won't be able to stop it. If it is the Mayor, then nothing will ever get done," says Buffy.
"Well, my position is clear. I advise against that."
"I would order you not to go, but you don;t obey orders anyway," says Pryce.
"Buffy, I'm coming with you. Oz, Xander, Giles even," Willow attempts to cheer Buffy up.
"I can't. I won't bring you into the line of danger."
"You should at least bring Angel with you. You need backup," says Giles.
"No way, if bullets start flying and Angel gets hit, that's it. I may be able to recover, but he can't. How about you Wes, you want to get some real filed action?"
"Well, ah..." he stumbles in speech trying to find an excuse.
"He cant," Giles answers Buffy, "if the Watcher's Council should respond, he has to answer. Since I am no longer employed, I cannot be the receiver of such information. Council rules."
"Precisely. Under better circumstances I would," says Pryce.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If it were just right, you'd leap to the role of hero. Giles, I can't take you. I need you here."
"You sure you don't want us to help you? I'm all over the not studying part," says Xander.
"Tell you what, after I get home and have had tome to properly access the situation, I'll give you all a call."
"Yes, well that sounds about right. Good work everyone," Pryce says aloud.
Buffy sits on the living room couch. The television is on and turned to the news. Commercials end and the news returns.
"Mom!" Buffy calls out.
"Is it back?" Joyce's reply comes form the kitchen. She hurries into the living room with a cop of coffee.
The news caster starts to speak as Joyce sits down.
"...chilling news this evening as police investigate the deaths of five people earlier this morning. Sunnydale sheriffs department was dispatched to the Santa Rosa burial grounds after another anonymous tip. There they made the gruesome discovery. Sunnydale residents, John Allabastor, 21 and Lisa Brammon, 26 were found dead with one stab wound to the chest. At this hour the other three victims have not been identified. The Sunnydale sheriff's officer strongly urges the anonymous caller to contact them at the number below. Here are photos of John Allabastor and Lisa Brammon..... is you have any information, please contact the sheriffs Department.
All of Sunnydale's residents are in shock at this hour as police have closed down five different cemeteries. At the end of this report we will put the list on your screen.
Here are what some local residents had to say:
'It's horrible. I no longer feel safe walking the streets at night. What kind of person would do this?"
'I work the third shift for the City Sanitation and I don't know if I feel comfortable anymore.'
'I used to let my teenage daughter stay out late, but with all these people being murdered, I have to put her on a curfew.'
'I'm scared. I'm scared of walking to my car, walking on the street, checking my mail. I don't even feel safe in my own home.'
Police are asking..."
DING DONG! The door bell rings.
"I'll get it," Buffy jumps up.
"Yeah..." Joyce stares unnervingly at the screen. Transfixed in terror.
Buffy swings the door open to reveal officer Kamen.
"Can I help you?" she says half startled and half surprised.
"We met a couple times. I'm Charles Kamen. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me? Help clear up the miniscolest of details."
"Sure," she replies with a bit of apprehension.
"Can I ask what you were doing at the Santa Rosa Cemetery last night?"
"I wasn't at that place last night."
"Well then, can you tell me what you were doing at the Hathaway Cemetery Friday night?"
"I didn't go there."
"Stop. Don't you dare insult my intelligence young lady. You berate yourself when you do so."
"Am I being charged with anything?"
"You know, it was really stupid of you to return that night. Really stupid. I had a picture of your shoe prints taken and their size matched those found on the Hathaway grounds. Now that in it's self is purely a superficial finding, but I am willing to bet the other prints found match one, or more of those friends you hang out with. And furthermore I am willing to bet the ones all over Santa Rosa are your size. Now, what do you think of that?" he stares unblinking.
"I don't think I like your tone," she closes the door and it stops. She looks down to see his foot blocking it. He pushes the door open.
"You don't like MY tone? You know, it bugged me, it really bugged me; that teacher who was murdered last year. Poor women who had her neck snapped. Jenny Calender."
The hair on Buffy's arms stand on end.
Kamen continues, "She was found dead, oodly enough, in your librarian friend's home. Rupert Giles. You know, funny thing about that - dirt encrusted on her shoes matched that of dirt found only at Sunnydale High? And that the toxicology reports showed chemicals in her lungs. They were matched to those used by the janitorial staff at the high school. As if someone stopped breathing and the chemical molecules were never dissolved by the body properly. One may wonder, who did move her body?"
Buffy holds onto the door edge with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes unblinking. IT never occurred to her the findings of an investigation would come back to haunt her. Joyce walks behind her with a look of confusion.
"Got your attention I see. I did a little digging into past files and you'll never guess what I saw. You were arrested on murder charges. Some black girl you named as Kendra. You were cleared, but again - no suspect was ever found."
"I don't know who you think you are, but my daughter would never do such things. I don't know if I want you at my house anymore," says Joyce with a bit of angry impatience.
"Mom, please."
"You must be Miss Summers. You're gonna love this one - seems a girl matching your daughter's description was arrested for burglary. She had an accomplice ... but here's the real kicker - that very night, a young lady fitting you daughter's accomplice's appearance killed the Deputy Mayor in an alley. Strangely enough, the man was stabbed in the chest."
"Buffy, we don't have to listen to this. I want you to stop harassing my daughter, or I'll report you."
"Faith I believe was her name. If we find her and match her shoes, they won't be the same prints from Hathaway, now will they?"
"I don't know," replies Buffy.
"You don't know," he moves in real close and looks her dead in the eyes, "if we sent an excavation team out and dug up your backyard, we wouldn't find anything would we?"
Buffy thinks of the demons she has killed that didn't dissolve and had buried in the back. Even if not human in appearance, it would be taken as such. She panics quietly.
"I've had enough of this. I want you to leave!" Joyce forcefully commands. She pushes Buffy to the side and tries to slam the door shut. Kamen forces it open. Joyce stumbles back in surprise.
"I will leave when I am damn well ready and maybe I'll take your daughter with me. I could take her in for questioning. You'll mess up. You've done so before. I only have but to wait. If someone else turns up dead, you best be damn well sure you weren't there, or I'm gonna nail you," he backs up in a cocky slow manner. A garish display of power.
Joyce shuts the door. She speaks, "What do we do? I feel like a prisoner in my own home. We need to call and find out who this man's supervisor is and report him."
"So, you're going to call the police? He's a cop and so is his supervisor. Mom, do the math."
"Then what Buffy? Tell me, cause I'm really drawing a blank."
"I'll call Giles, he'll know what to do."
"Buffy, wait. That night when you brought Spike over, you mentioned something about stopping Angel, you're boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend. At least not anymore. We're good friends is all."
"Did he kill Miss Calender?"
She stops on the first couple stairs and turns around, "Yes."
"Great, so you're really good friends with a killer vampire."
"He's rehabilitated."
"Oh, a rehabilitated killer vampire, that's so much more comforting."
"He was cursed. It made him evil, but Willow fixed it," she lied. Not wanting to further infuriate her mother by telling her that Angel had been brought back by pure evil to kill her, "he's good now. All better."
"You didn't kill that Kendra did you? You can tell me cause, I understand you're a Slayer and that it might have been self defense."
Buffy looks at her mother's face and sees the doubt Kamen had installed in her mind.
"He's trying to scare us. I didn't kill Kendra, or the Deputy Mayor. Spike's girlfriend killed Kendra. I was unfortunate enough to come running in shortly after. How could you believe him?
"I honestly didn't, but Buffy, he provided such a compelling..."
"I know," she finishes he mother's though without saying it, "and that's exactly why we can't call the cops. Now, I'm going to go call Giles. If someone comes to the door, don't answer it," she starts to head up and then comes about again, "and mom..."
"Yes honey."
"...lock the doors tonight. Make sure all the windows locked tightly and be sure to check the backdoor. I'm gonna see if I can borrow Cordelia's cellular phone for you. She has a couple of them. One for you, one for me. I need to call now, sun's beginning to set."
"Go ahead," Joyce gets butterflies in her stomach over the thought of darkness approaching.
As Buffy runs upstairs, Joyce goes over to the living room and peers through the curtains. Outside along the curb is Kamen in his Police Cruiser. He is talking into something. He looks over at the house. She shuts the curtains quickly and can feel her heart pounding.
Buffy dials Giles' house. It rings a couple times before he picks up.
"No, I don't want to change my bloody long distance carrier, or buy any of your sodding magazines! Stop calling me!"
"Giles, it's me. Have yo had your Xoloft today?"
"Oh Buffy, I'm sorry. It's these damned telemarketers. They call me morning, noon and night. Even, as it is quite often joked, when I'm in the shower. Did you need something?"
"I just got an up close and personal with officer Damion. Sheriff of Mulberry he's not. That cop who pulled us over the other night."
"Did he give you any trouble?" says Giles worriedly.
"My shoe prints were found at both crime scenes. He can't yet tie it to me, but he's bent on it. The man threatened me Giles."
"Did you record any of this, have a witness other then your friends, or your mother?"
"No. We can't even call the police."
"There is always a channel for such things. I'll contact the state sheriff's Office. Hopefully his pull doesn't reach that high, but it's your word against his. The best they can be able to do is put him on suspension."
"Then what? Have him explain to them his side of the story? The man brought up Kendra, the Deputy Mayor, Faith and Jenny's death. Giles, you should have heard him. It's very convincing."
"I don't know what else to tell you Buffy. My knowledge of the Judicial System maybe somewhat limited, but I believe that is the best we can do."
"Faith did kill the deputy Mayor and her prints are at Hathaway. We could..."
"Don't," Giles interrupts her, "don't even think about it. It's wrong, it's puerile and on a basic level should go against the very things which you stand for. There has to be another way. We'll find it."
"I hope so. Each day that passes, it becomes less and less hospitable atmosphere for Slayers. As it is I am worried about going tonight."
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He switches hands and scratches his head as he speaks, "I don't suppose I can dissuade you to do otherwise?"
"When does that ever work?"
"Quite right. Though you should at least take it into consideration once."
"I considered it. I always consider. I'm a considerationist."
"Darnit all to hell!"
"Seriously, Xoloft. Ask your doctor about it," says Buffy.
"My left over casserole is burning. If you'll excuse me."
"Catch you later," replies Buffy.
"All right then. Please be careful."
She hangs up and dials Willow.
Giles stretches his arms out and then arches his back, with his hands on the lower part. He pours himself some tea. He looks at his watch. It has Roman Numerals in place of numbers.
"Almost 6:30," he comments before taking another sip and setting the glass down, so he can prepare the library for opening.
The doors burst open and there is Buffy, along with everyone else. Pryce walks into a closing door. He enters with a red mark on his head and a straightens his neck tie.
"You're all here on time," an amazed Giles speaks.
"We used my car again. Can't I get some kind of Slayerette gas mileage reimbursement?" says Xander.
Buffy stands in front of the room. Oz, Willow and Xander sit down.
"Where's Cordillia?" he asks.
"I don't want to bring her into this. I only invited her the other day to warn her. Same with Angel. He doesn't even know and I see no reason to tell him."
"Buffy, what happened?" asks Giles. He lowers the tea cup. Warm vapor is still raising from it.
"Giles, it's getting bad. I mean really bad. We found five dead bodies last night."
"Oh my god, five?" says Willow.
Xander hangs his head down and shakes it yes.
"We killed another whitey. I buried it in my back yard, but there were four more. We had to leave them. Are they just going to keep coming? I don't have that much room left. Giles, please tell me you have something. We're running on low here."
"Well, actually, Wesley did find something."
"Yes. The Council looked up every reference book on rituals. The Chamillas are vessels. they are used in some way to bring forth a 'Profound Change'. They are summoned by the blood of the dead who are killed with a dagger whose blade has been ordained with the blood of the Caller and a vessel. It's an ancient and rare ritual and that's all they could find. It doesn't say what the change is," Wesley finishes.
"Could this in some way be related to the Ascension?" asks Buffy.
"Well, there's no way to know for sure since we don't know what the Ascension itself entails. But it seems rather likely no ordinary person would know such ritualistic activities. Especially when we ourselves don't," Giles comments.
Buffy turns to Willow and speaks, "Willow, any..."
The doors open and in strides Snyder. He eyes then with malevolence.
"What are you all doing here? The library doesn't open till seven," he grumbles.
"If it's any consolation, I don't even want to be here," says Xander looking up at Snyder.
Snyder leans in with his hands on the back part of Xander's chair and replies, "Mr. Harris, you're not funny even when you are wide awake. If you don't want to be here, we can always try I. S. S. "
"We were studying. We had a late night and wanted to get caught up early," Willow jumps in to the rescue.
"Miss Rosenberg, you wouldn't be lying to me would you? If you were studying, then where are your books? Pens? Paper," he emphasizes the last word.
"Ah ... we just got here."
"Is that true?" Snyder looks at Oz. Oz raises an eyebrow and braces for a stare down.
"It is. They just arrived, but not five minutes ago. I permitted them entrance. Seven is not that far off," says Giles.
"Very well, and who might this be?" He eyes Wesley suspiciously.
Puts out his right hand, "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, pleased to meet you."
Snyder snubs his gesture and asks, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a friend of Mister Giles here," he replies.
"Is this true?" Snyder moves his eyes to Giles.
"Yes," he sips the tea again.
"I'm here in American for a couple of months and am catching up on the old bloke."
"Very well, but no dilly-dallying. And don't think just because I didn't talk to you Miss Summers, that I;m not watching you," he walks backwards to the doors. He points two fingers to his eyes, then to them.
The door he exists through swings back and forth till it shuts. Xander points to his ass and then gives the finger to the door.
"What an awful little man," says Wesley.
"Correct - and we would also have excepted grotesque," says Xander.
"Where did you learn that word?" asks Willow.
"Oddly enough, English class."
Snyder walks to the right and there standing against the wall is officer Kamen.
"Well?" Kamen asks.
"They're studying," Snyder replies.
"Studying? At 6:30 in the morning?"
"You want me to get her?"
"No ... no. I'll pay her a visit at her own home later today," replies Kamen.
"Very good. It's just what this wayward little youth needs. A little authoritative reminder.":
"Let me ask you something Mr. Snyder. What's your impression of her?"
"Born trouble maker. Rowdy, destructive, opinionated little snot."
"Talks a lot for her age you're saying?"
"Yes! Never shuts up. Always hanging around with that librarian."
"It is my belief that women should know when to speak. Speak only when spoken too maybe."
Snyder's micifous, smug grin disappears when he shuts his mouth. Clearly Kamen's views are strong and somewhat unsettling. But he dare not argue with the man.
"Willow, the hack?" asks Buffy.
"Still nothing on reports, but I did find photos. They're in poor quality and for some reason they are all taken at the same angle. Here," she shifts through her backpack until she finds a folder and pulls out a color print, "they all have the same mark smeared on their foreheads."
Buffy looks at it and passes it on to Giles. He takes his glasses off and examines the picture.
"I'm not familiar with it," he passes it to Pryce.
"Let me see ... me neither. I'll go ahead and fax this over to the Council."
"Thanks," says Buffy.
The symbol is the top half of an oval with two obtuse inward pointing vertical lines. Two lines going away from the center are on the top ends of the oval half.
"It may not be safe any longer to patrol. The cops are probably going to be watching all the cemeteries now. But I can't give up. If it's some sort of demon, then they won't be able to stop it. If it is the Mayor, then nothing will ever get done," says Buffy.
"Well, my position is clear. I advise against that."
"I would order you not to go, but you don;t obey orders anyway," says Pryce.
"Buffy, I'm coming with you. Oz, Xander, Giles even," Willow attempts to cheer Buffy up.
"I can't. I won't bring you into the line of danger."
"You should at least bring Angel with you. You need backup," says Giles.
"No way, if bullets start flying and Angel gets hit, that's it. I may be able to recover, but he can't. How about you Wes, you want to get some real filed action?"
"Well, ah..." he stumbles in speech trying to find an excuse.
"He cant," Giles answers Buffy, "if the Watcher's Council should respond, he has to answer. Since I am no longer employed, I cannot be the receiver of such information. Council rules."
"Precisely. Under better circumstances I would," says Pryce.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If it were just right, you'd leap to the role of hero. Giles, I can't take you. I need you here."
"You sure you don't want us to help you? I'm all over the not studying part," says Xander.
"Tell you what, after I get home and have had tome to properly access the situation, I'll give you all a call."
"Yes, well that sounds about right. Good work everyone," Pryce says aloud.
Buffy sits on the living room couch. The television is on and turned to the news. Commercials end and the news returns.
"Mom!" Buffy calls out.
"Is it back?" Joyce's reply comes form the kitchen. She hurries into the living room with a cop of coffee.
The news caster starts to speak as Joyce sits down.
"...chilling news this evening as police investigate the deaths of five people earlier this morning. Sunnydale sheriffs department was dispatched to the Santa Rosa burial grounds after another anonymous tip. There they made the gruesome discovery. Sunnydale residents, John Allabastor, 21 and Lisa Brammon, 26 were found dead with one stab wound to the chest. At this hour the other three victims have not been identified. The Sunnydale sheriff's officer strongly urges the anonymous caller to contact them at the number below. Here are photos of John Allabastor and Lisa Brammon..... is you have any information, please contact the sheriffs Department.
All of Sunnydale's residents are in shock at this hour as police have closed down five different cemeteries. At the end of this report we will put the list on your screen.
Here are what some local residents had to say:
'It's horrible. I no longer feel safe walking the streets at night. What kind of person would do this?"
'I work the third shift for the City Sanitation and I don't know if I feel comfortable anymore.'
'I used to let my teenage daughter stay out late, but with all these people being murdered, I have to put her on a curfew.'
'I'm scared. I'm scared of walking to my car, walking on the street, checking my mail. I don't even feel safe in my own home.'
Police are asking..."
DING DONG! The door bell rings.
"I'll get it," Buffy jumps up.
"Yeah..." Joyce stares unnervingly at the screen. Transfixed in terror.
Buffy swings the door open to reveal officer Kamen.
"Can I help you?" she says half startled and half surprised.
"We met a couple times. I'm Charles Kamen. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me? Help clear up the miniscolest of details."
"Sure," she replies with a bit of apprehension.
"Can I ask what you were doing at the Santa Rosa Cemetery last night?"
"I wasn't at that place last night."
"Well then, can you tell me what you were doing at the Hathaway Cemetery Friday night?"
"I didn't go there."
"Stop. Don't you dare insult my intelligence young lady. You berate yourself when you do so."
"Am I being charged with anything?"
"You know, it was really stupid of you to return that night. Really stupid. I had a picture of your shoe prints taken and their size matched those found on the Hathaway grounds. Now that in it's self is purely a superficial finding, but I am willing to bet the other prints found match one, or more of those friends you hang out with. And furthermore I am willing to bet the ones all over Santa Rosa are your size. Now, what do you think of that?" he stares unblinking.
"I don't think I like your tone," she closes the door and it stops. She looks down to see his foot blocking it. He pushes the door open.
"You don't like MY tone? You know, it bugged me, it really bugged me; that teacher who was murdered last year. Poor women who had her neck snapped. Jenny Calender."
The hair on Buffy's arms stand on end.
Kamen continues, "She was found dead, oodly enough, in your librarian friend's home. Rupert Giles. You know, funny thing about that - dirt encrusted on her shoes matched that of dirt found only at Sunnydale High? And that the toxicology reports showed chemicals in her lungs. They were matched to those used by the janitorial staff at the high school. As if someone stopped breathing and the chemical molecules were never dissolved by the body properly. One may wonder, who did move her body?"
Buffy holds onto the door edge with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes unblinking. IT never occurred to her the findings of an investigation would come back to haunt her. Joyce walks behind her with a look of confusion.
"Got your attention I see. I did a little digging into past files and you'll never guess what I saw. You were arrested on murder charges. Some black girl you named as Kendra. You were cleared, but again - no suspect was ever found."
"I don't know who you think you are, but my daughter would never do such things. I don't know if I want you at my house anymore," says Joyce with a bit of angry impatience.
"Mom, please."
"You must be Miss Summers. You're gonna love this one - seems a girl matching your daughter's description was arrested for burglary. She had an accomplice ... but here's the real kicker - that very night, a young lady fitting you daughter's accomplice's appearance killed the Deputy Mayor in an alley. Strangely enough, the man was stabbed in the chest."
"Buffy, we don't have to listen to this. I want you to stop harassing my daughter, or I'll report you."
"Faith I believe was her name. If we find her and match her shoes, they won't be the same prints from Hathaway, now will they?"
"I don't know," replies Buffy.
"You don't know," he moves in real close and looks her dead in the eyes, "if we sent an excavation team out and dug up your backyard, we wouldn't find anything would we?"
Buffy thinks of the demons she has killed that didn't dissolve and had buried in the back. Even if not human in appearance, it would be taken as such. She panics quietly.
"I've had enough of this. I want you to leave!" Joyce forcefully commands. She pushes Buffy to the side and tries to slam the door shut. Kamen forces it open. Joyce stumbles back in surprise.
"I will leave when I am damn well ready and maybe I'll take your daughter with me. I could take her in for questioning. You'll mess up. You've done so before. I only have but to wait. If someone else turns up dead, you best be damn well sure you weren't there, or I'm gonna nail you," he backs up in a cocky slow manner. A garish display of power.
Joyce shuts the door. She speaks, "What do we do? I feel like a prisoner in my own home. We need to call and find out who this man's supervisor is and report him."
"So, you're going to call the police? He's a cop and so is his supervisor. Mom, do the math."
"Then what Buffy? Tell me, cause I'm really drawing a blank."
"I'll call Giles, he'll know what to do."
"Buffy, wait. That night when you brought Spike over, you mentioned something about stopping Angel, you're boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend. At least not anymore. We're good friends is all."
"Did he kill Miss Calender?"
She stops on the first couple stairs and turns around, "Yes."
"Great, so you're really good friends with a killer vampire."
"He's rehabilitated."
"Oh, a rehabilitated killer vampire, that's so much more comforting."
"He was cursed. It made him evil, but Willow fixed it," she lied. Not wanting to further infuriate her mother by telling her that Angel had been brought back by pure evil to kill her, "he's good now. All better."
"You didn't kill that Kendra did you? You can tell me cause, I understand you're a Slayer and that it might have been self defense."
Buffy looks at her mother's face and sees the doubt Kamen had installed in her mind.
"He's trying to scare us. I didn't kill Kendra, or the Deputy Mayor. Spike's girlfriend killed Kendra. I was unfortunate enough to come running in shortly after. How could you believe him?
"I honestly didn't, but Buffy, he provided such a compelling..."
"I know," she finishes he mother's though without saying it, "and that's exactly why we can't call the cops. Now, I'm going to go call Giles. If someone comes to the door, don't answer it," she starts to head up and then comes about again, "and mom..."
"Yes honey."
"...lock the doors tonight. Make sure all the windows locked tightly and be sure to check the backdoor. I'm gonna see if I can borrow Cordelia's cellular phone for you. She has a couple of them. One for you, one for me. I need to call now, sun's beginning to set."
"Go ahead," Joyce gets butterflies in her stomach over the thought of darkness approaching.
As Buffy runs upstairs, Joyce goes over to the living room and peers through the curtains. Outside along the curb is Kamen in his Police Cruiser. He is talking into something. He looks over at the house. She shuts the curtains quickly and can feel her heart pounding.
Buffy dials Giles' house. It rings a couple times before he picks up.
"No, I don't want to change my bloody long distance carrier, or buy any of your sodding magazines! Stop calling me!"
"Giles, it's me. Have yo had your Xoloft today?"
"Oh Buffy, I'm sorry. It's these damned telemarketers. They call me morning, noon and night. Even, as it is quite often joked, when I'm in the shower. Did you need something?"
"I just got an up close and personal with officer Damion. Sheriff of Mulberry he's not. That cop who pulled us over the other night."
"Did he give you any trouble?" says Giles worriedly.
"My shoe prints were found at both crime scenes. He can't yet tie it to me, but he's bent on it. The man threatened me Giles."
"Did you record any of this, have a witness other then your friends, or your mother?"
"No. We can't even call the police."
"There is always a channel for such things. I'll contact the state sheriff's Office. Hopefully his pull doesn't reach that high, but it's your word against his. The best they can be able to do is put him on suspension."
"Then what? Have him explain to them his side of the story? The man brought up Kendra, the Deputy Mayor, Faith and Jenny's death. Giles, you should have heard him. It's very convincing."
"I don't know what else to tell you Buffy. My knowledge of the Judicial System maybe somewhat limited, but I believe that is the best we can do."
"Faith did kill the deputy Mayor and her prints are at Hathaway. We could..."
"Don't," Giles interrupts her, "don't even think about it. It's wrong, it's puerile and on a basic level should go against the very things which you stand for. There has to be another way. We'll find it."
"I hope so. Each day that passes, it becomes less and less hospitable atmosphere for Slayers. As it is I am worried about going tonight."
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He switches hands and scratches his head as he speaks, "I don't suppose I can dissuade you to do otherwise?"
"When does that ever work?"
"Quite right. Though you should at least take it into consideration once."
"I considered it. I always consider. I'm a considerationist."
"Darnit all to hell!"
"Seriously, Xoloft. Ask your doctor about it," says Buffy.
"My left over casserole is burning. If you'll excuse me."
"Catch you later," replies Buffy.
"All right then. Please be careful."
She hangs up and dials Willow.