Part 9
The night was uneventful. Cynthia must have drifted off to sleep. She wanted to stay in her world of slumber where she didn't have to think about reality. But unfortunately, Ellen wouldn't let her.
"It's going to be a big day for you," she said sincerely.
^Like I'm a child getting ready for her first day of school^ Cynthia thought moodily. She just grunted and didn't speak. She was too nervous.
The town of Sunnydale itself wasn't all that spectacular, it didn't look that much different from her own home town, except it had palm trees instead of snow.
They were driving down an ordinary suburban street, turning into the drive of a nice looking large house with a big front yard, shaded from the street with large bushes giving the house some privacy.
Ellen ran a brush through her short brown hair. She smoothed down her skirt and straightened her tweed jacket. Cynthia's pulse was pounding in her throat. She was betting almost any vampire hiding under the sewers near by would be able to hear and they'd all be hammering for her blood the second night fell.
An annoyed looking blonde girl answered the door with a curt, "We're busy, go away." She started to shut the door, but Ellen got her arm in, stopping her. The girl frowned. "You're not going away."
"No, we're not. We're here to see Rupert Giles."
The blonde looked critically at Cynthia. "So you're the new Slayer. You don't look up to much." She turned into the house. "Giles!" she yelled.
"Anya, you don't have to yell, I'm right here." A man dressed in a blue shirt and dark pants appeared beside Anya.
"Mr. Giles?"
He stopped cleaning a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and slipped them back on. "Yes? And you are?"
"Ellen Simmonds. From the Watcher's Council?"
He looked at her blankly for a moment. "Oh. Oh yes, do come in. You've caught us at a rather bad time, I'm afraid."
Cynthia followed them into the house, feeling ridiculously out of place. She heard voices and footsteps moving heavily about upstairs. A whole unit of do-gooders? She smiled faintly, thinking how much Phyre would love to get her fangs into any of these people. "What's going on?" she asked.
"We have a demon passed out upstairs," Anya told her.
"What type of demon? Is it restrained?" Ellen was walking up the stairs without waiting to be asked.
"She asked us for help. We have yet to determine what she is." Giles followed Ellen.
Cynthia hesitated, then went after them. Anya went into the living room. Cynthia heard the sounds of a soap opera on the TV. She wondered what that girl's deal was.
They were led into a large bedroom which clearly belonged to a girl. Cynthia looked at the pictures stuck around the mirror frame, her fingers running over the personal knickknacks dotted around. She didn't want to be in this room. From the pictures and something inside her, she knew this was the last Slayer's room. She felt wrong trying to get into this girl's shoes.
She turned to hurry out, but ran into a boy blocking the entrance, dark haired and dark eyed with a friendly, warm smile. "Hey there, you the new Slayer?"
"Um, yeah. Cynthia. What's your speciality?"
"Saving damsels in distress and kicking demon ass," he answered with a grin.
There was an explosive snort from Anya who had decided to reappear. "Yeah, right, getting your ass kicked by demons is closer to the truth."
"Okay, comic relief is my main function," the boy said, still grinning.
Cynthia felt a smile trying to tug at the corners of her lips. She admired a man who could admit his faults and still laugh about them. Anya was glaring at her, slipping her arm through the boy's. "Xander's taken," she said pointedly.
"Sorry. Excuse me." Cynthia pushed past them and hurried through the house looking for an exit. She found a kitchen and a back porch. She sat down, burying her face in her hands. This whole experience was a nightmare.
"Oh, hi, you must be - "
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, new Slayer, great," Cynthia snorted, looking up to see a pretty redhead standing in the kitchen door.
"You don't sound too thrilled."
"Frankly I'm not. I don't know why they picked me and I don't want to take over this girl's life."
"You'll get used to it. We really do need a Slayer here. I'm sure you'll be just as good as Buffy, or with our help you'll get that good." The redhead offered a bright smile.
Cynthia didn't feel any better.
"We've got problems, we can't find Dawn." Another girl came hurrying toward them. Just how many people were in on this whole Slayer gig?
"This is the new Slayer - " the redhead looked over at Cynthia.
"Cynthia."
The other girl, another blonde, smiled, looking almost embarrassed. "Tara, and that's Willow. I'd be politer, but - "
"I know, I know, bad timing," Cynthia said. "Who's Dawn?"
"Dawn's Buffy's younger sister. She went to stay with a friend last night and never came home. We've just called and she's not there," Tara explained.
"So I'll do a sweep of the area," Cynthia offered.
"Great. I'm sure Xander and Anya will go with you and help you find your way around. Have we checked with Spike yet? Dawn goes to hang out with him sometimes." Willow's eyes moved from Cynthia to Tara.
"Daylight. No good for Spike, but we could ask."
"Does Anya *really* have to come," Cynthia muttered, following Willow and Tara back into the house.
Something about the name Spike stirred uncomfortable feelings inside her. She was sure she'd heard Phyre talking about an old lover of hers, called Spike. Or maybe she had misheard.
"So who's on Dawn Patrol?"
Before Cynthia could ask more about Spike she was bustled into the living room and out the door five minutes later with Xander and Anya. It didn't look like she was going to get much time to herself with life as a Slayer in Sunnydale
^Welcome to the Hellmouth^ Cynthia thought to herself.
* * *
The night was uneventful. Cynthia must have drifted off to sleep. She wanted to stay in her world of slumber where she didn't have to think about reality. But unfortunately, Ellen wouldn't let her.
"It's going to be a big day for you," she said sincerely.
^Like I'm a child getting ready for her first day of school^ Cynthia thought moodily. She just grunted and didn't speak. She was too nervous.
The town of Sunnydale itself wasn't all that spectacular, it didn't look that much different from her own home town, except it had palm trees instead of snow.
They were driving down an ordinary suburban street, turning into the drive of a nice looking large house with a big front yard, shaded from the street with large bushes giving the house some privacy.
Ellen ran a brush through her short brown hair. She smoothed down her skirt and straightened her tweed jacket. Cynthia's pulse was pounding in her throat. She was betting almost any vampire hiding under the sewers near by would be able to hear and they'd all be hammering for her blood the second night fell.
An annoyed looking blonde girl answered the door with a curt, "We're busy, go away." She started to shut the door, but Ellen got her arm in, stopping her. The girl frowned. "You're not going away."
"No, we're not. We're here to see Rupert Giles."
The blonde looked critically at Cynthia. "So you're the new Slayer. You don't look up to much." She turned into the house. "Giles!" she yelled.
"Anya, you don't have to yell, I'm right here." A man dressed in a blue shirt and dark pants appeared beside Anya.
"Mr. Giles?"
He stopped cleaning a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and slipped them back on. "Yes? And you are?"
"Ellen Simmonds. From the Watcher's Council?"
He looked at her blankly for a moment. "Oh. Oh yes, do come in. You've caught us at a rather bad time, I'm afraid."
Cynthia followed them into the house, feeling ridiculously out of place. She heard voices and footsteps moving heavily about upstairs. A whole unit of do-gooders? She smiled faintly, thinking how much Phyre would love to get her fangs into any of these people. "What's going on?" she asked.
"We have a demon passed out upstairs," Anya told her.
"What type of demon? Is it restrained?" Ellen was walking up the stairs without waiting to be asked.
"She asked us for help. We have yet to determine what she is." Giles followed Ellen.
Cynthia hesitated, then went after them. Anya went into the living room. Cynthia heard the sounds of a soap opera on the TV. She wondered what that girl's deal was.
They were led into a large bedroom which clearly belonged to a girl. Cynthia looked at the pictures stuck around the mirror frame, her fingers running over the personal knickknacks dotted around. She didn't want to be in this room. From the pictures and something inside her, she knew this was the last Slayer's room. She felt wrong trying to get into this girl's shoes.
She turned to hurry out, but ran into a boy blocking the entrance, dark haired and dark eyed with a friendly, warm smile. "Hey there, you the new Slayer?"
"Um, yeah. Cynthia. What's your speciality?"
"Saving damsels in distress and kicking demon ass," he answered with a grin.
There was an explosive snort from Anya who had decided to reappear. "Yeah, right, getting your ass kicked by demons is closer to the truth."
"Okay, comic relief is my main function," the boy said, still grinning.
Cynthia felt a smile trying to tug at the corners of her lips. She admired a man who could admit his faults and still laugh about them. Anya was glaring at her, slipping her arm through the boy's. "Xander's taken," she said pointedly.
"Sorry. Excuse me." Cynthia pushed past them and hurried through the house looking for an exit. She found a kitchen and a back porch. She sat down, burying her face in her hands. This whole experience was a nightmare.
"Oh, hi, you must be - "
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, new Slayer, great," Cynthia snorted, looking up to see a pretty redhead standing in the kitchen door.
"You don't sound too thrilled."
"Frankly I'm not. I don't know why they picked me and I don't want to take over this girl's life."
"You'll get used to it. We really do need a Slayer here. I'm sure you'll be just as good as Buffy, or with our help you'll get that good." The redhead offered a bright smile.
Cynthia didn't feel any better.
"We've got problems, we can't find Dawn." Another girl came hurrying toward them. Just how many people were in on this whole Slayer gig?
"This is the new Slayer - " the redhead looked over at Cynthia.
"Cynthia."
The other girl, another blonde, smiled, looking almost embarrassed. "Tara, and that's Willow. I'd be politer, but - "
"I know, I know, bad timing," Cynthia said. "Who's Dawn?"
"Dawn's Buffy's younger sister. She went to stay with a friend last night and never came home. We've just called and she's not there," Tara explained.
"So I'll do a sweep of the area," Cynthia offered.
"Great. I'm sure Xander and Anya will go with you and help you find your way around. Have we checked with Spike yet? Dawn goes to hang out with him sometimes." Willow's eyes moved from Cynthia to Tara.
"Daylight. No good for Spike, but we could ask."
"Does Anya *really* have to come," Cynthia muttered, following Willow and Tara back into the house.
Something about the name Spike stirred uncomfortable feelings inside her. She was sure she'd heard Phyre talking about an old lover of hers, called Spike. Or maybe she had misheard.
"So who's on Dawn Patrol?"
Before Cynthia could ask more about Spike she was bustled into the living room and out the door five minutes later with Xander and Anya. It didn't look like she was going to get much time to herself with life as a Slayer in Sunnydale
^Welcome to the Hellmouth^ Cynthia thought to herself.
* * *