Dawn approached timidly. Giles had dealt with these people once in his tenure as Buffy's Watcher, and it had not been a pleasant experience. He called in sick to the Magic Box the next day, citing stress.
Behind the desk a pleasant-looking woman with curly black hair scanned a computer screen, a phone jammed between her shoulder and ear. She spoke with the calm of somebody incapable of throttling their conversation partner. "Sir, I ran that search. I'm sorry that the results aren't... Sir, I tried that. Perhaps if we tried a different tact..." She gritted her teeth. "I'm not saying you don't know what you're talking about. I'm saying that more specific information would be helpful. No, sir, I can't just 'figure it out.' Well, same to you. Have a nice day." She dropped the phone into its cradle. "Idiot," she muttered. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and smiled tightly at Dawn. "How can I help you today?"
Dawn chewed her lip. "Um... I need to find something."
The librarian nodded. "Great. I can help. Were you thinking fiction or non-fiction?"
"Patron records, actually."
"Ah." The librarian frowned. "Sorry, can't do that."
"I just need to know--"
The librarian put up her hand. "You need to find out what your boyfriend's reading so you can surprise him with a present. Or you're looking to one-up the competition at the science fair. I get this all the time. The answer is still no."
Dawn pulled out her wallet and flipped it open. She layed a card out on the desk. The librarian picked it up. "Watcher's Council. Interesting. I might be able to help you, but it won't be easy..."
"Spike ignores me in favor of something he calls 'Halo.' He has not left his domicile in two days."
"Not my problem, Illyria," Angel said, striding across the Wolfram & Hart lobby. "Go bother Wesley."
"He avoids me and will not even glance in my direction. My efforts to arouse him have grown tiresome to me." She paused. "I wish to spar with The Key."
Angel stopped. "What do you know about The Key?"
"I saw it leave your office in a body of flesh." She cocked her head. "I cannot comprehend why anything so powerful should allow itself to be so limited."
"Pot, we have the kettle on line two."
"I do not understand your simple-minded figures of speech and I do not wish to."
Angel sighed. "You can't spar with The Key. For one thing, she's powerless. She's just a human girl."
"Yet you let her go on a quest you know may be fraught with danger."
"It's book retrieval. It's a milk run."
"You lie to even yourself, half-breed. Your denials of your own character make you weak."
"If she's smart, she'll just head home."
Illyria stared at Angel as if she could not believe there was a creature quite this dense in existence. "Logic is not something that mortals value."
Angel put his hands on his hips. "Why does this even bother you?"
"It does not. I find it curious that it does not bother you. I sense your concern for the girl, but you take no action. This is uncommon for you and I wish to know why."
"The situation's more complicated than that. It's just a book. I mean, okay, she could be in trouble, and sure, it would improve my standing with Buffy if I helped her, and yeah, it'd make Spike look like a lazy ass..." Angel blinked. "You didn't tell Spike about The Key, did you?"
"I saw no need."
"Good," Angel said.
Dawn and the librarian (Susan, Dawn learned) stood in front of a large poster listing novel that had been banned or censored in the last hundred years. Susan glanced at Dawn. "Sure you wanna do this, kiddo?" Dawn nodded.
Susan tapped "Catcher in the Rye." It lit up. She hit "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, "Lolita," and "Lord of the Flies." They all glowed dimly. Finally, she rubbed her thumb over "Catch-22," and the poster dissolved in a swirl of letters, revealing a doorway. Beyond that ran a set of stairs exactly like you'd expect a library to have if said library was built inside a medieval castle.
Dawn put a foot through where the poster had been and looked back at Susan. The librarian shook her head and said, "Sorry. I'm not even supposed to have let you go this far. It's your deal from here on out." Dawn nodded and put the other pfoot through. The library faded behind her. She was alone.
The stairway didn't appear to be supported by anything stronger than the idea that it should be standing rather than not. Above her was total blackness. On either side was total blackness. Underneath, as Dawn discovered in an ill-advised upside-down peek, was total blackness. The steps themselves were illuminated by some invisible source. In short, it was just your average extra-dimensional staircase jutting out from infinity.
Dawn tread down the steps, caution in every movement. She breathed slowly, sure that her next step would mean her ultimate demise or a badly sprained ankle. Each individual stair seemed solid enough, but the overall lack of physics governing the set as a whole was enough to give her pause.
Peering out into the darkness, she could just barely make out the bottom of the steps about 50 yards ahead. She took a deep breath and skipped down rapidly, jumping the last four steps and landing on the dusty stone floor of Patron Records.
Dim lamps hung from impossibly long cords that tapered off into the darkness above. Dawn counted 27 rows of card catalogs. The catalog furthest to left bore the legend "Books," while the other 26 read "Patrons." Toiling at these catalogs were dozens of pathetic, slouching creatures.
"Patron records confidential," a tired voice came from the vicinity of her knee. The creature she found was like the others - skin sort of hanging off the suggestion of a skeleton, lidless eyes, and a small Oxford shirt with no pants. It shuffled away. Dawn followed it to a squat table where it started scrawling on a 3" by 5" index card, one of at least a couple hundred sitting there.
Dawn picked a card up. The title read "The Fearmakers by John McCarty" and there, handwritten impeccably, was a list of patrons who had checked it out, when they did so, and when they brought the book back. The list only went to 2002, so Dawn flipped the card over to find the listings for 2003. She flipped it over again and blinked. The front had changed to a list of patrons who had checked out the book in 2004. Flip. 2005. Flip. The original front of the card. "Weird," Dawn said to herself.
"Patron records confidential," the slouching creature said again.
Dawn gave the thing a funny look and wandered over to the first row of card catalogs. She pulled open a drawer and found hundreds of cards, each bearing the title and author of a book. The first card was "Aardvarks: An Owner's Guide by E.G. Nesmith."
Each catalog in this row bore a large letter on its side. Dawn found the L index and pulled open the drawer labled "Las-Leb." Towards the back, she found it - "Lazarey Codex, The by Author Unknown." There was a single patron listed, a Simon Maday.
Shutting the drawer, Dawn glanced over at the other rows. Each row corresponded to a different letter. She wandered over. As she passed the F's, she nearly tripped over another slouching creature. "Patron records..."
"...confidential. I get it." Dawn trekked over to the M's. There was an entire index devoted to the Mad's. She started opening drawers and rifling through. "Madacy... Madame... Madas... Maday! Simon Maday." The card had Maday's birthdate, current address, and telephone number. "Excellent," Dawn said to herself. She ripped the card from the drawer and pocketed it. She turned back towards the staircase.
The scuffling of the creatures had stopped. They all stared at her. "Patron records confidential," one of them said. Another one behind her offered the same admonishment. "Patron records confidential." They circled around her, drawing in tighter with every moment. "Patron records confidential," they began to chant in unison. They bared razor sharp teeth. "Patron records confidential." Dawn reached into her bookbag and pulled out a dagger that Buffy had given her. She held the blade out, ready to strike if necessary. The creatures continued to close in. "Patron records confidential."
They stopped within a yard of her. She backed up, bumping into the "Mad-" index, sending it toppling to the floor. She swallowed hard. "Sorry?"
A creature sprang at her, all the previously observed lethargy completely washed away. It attached its mouth to her weapon arm, causing her to drop the dagger. The rest bounded towards her, teeth shining a white as their Oxford shirts.
Dawn screamed and there was no echo.
