1PM, November 1st, 1997
The cabin cruiser pulled up to the open dock, the two men aboard with three women and two young couples on deck looking uneasy at the armed soldiers patrolling the docks and waiting for them to tie up.
"Please identify yourself, and your purpose here," a young corporal called out as one man stepped forward from the group.
"My name's Hank Summers, my family lives in Sunnydale, as does one of the partners of the company that employs me, and one of his daughter's is with me, one of her friends, and a local couple, the Kendalls," the man replied, "So when we found ourselves choosing between LA and Sunnydale…we chose to come here thinking it's safer." The young soldier spoke into a radio and called back to the EMS center at the high school for verification and direction. It was granted a few moments later.
"Remain here, a vehicle will be here shortly to take you to the EMS center at the high school, with some of your personal baggage," the soldier informed them, which made the new arrivals ease of their tension. Hank thanked the young man and climbed back aboard the large boat.
"Looks like we'll just have to wait a while," Hank told the others, then he addressed one of the teenagers, "Charles? Could you please grab our survival packs, Alonna, everybody? Let's just get the bare basics in case we can't travel back to the boat." He turned back to the soldiers on the pier. "Any idea how we might gain safe passage to and from our boat during the day?"
"No, sir, but you might ask Lt. Finn at the high school, he might be able to help you."
"Thanks, I appreciate the help, do you think a back pack and a carry-on each will be too much for the vehicle being sent?"
"Don't know, sir, I don't know what they're sending."
About an hour passed, and it was a large truck that pulled up, a soldier and teenager got out. The teenage girl looked at a photo as she came up, and nodded to the soldier.
"He's Hank Summers, don't know who the others are," the girl said, then turned to Hank, "I'm Marcie Ross, I'm a friend of Buffy's, Mister Summers."
"Oh, hi," Hank greeted the visible girl, shaking her hand, "Are my daughters okay? Joyce?"
"They're fine, Mr. Summers…"
"Call me Hank," he told the girl, his charisma that brought him far in business coming to bear, "What's the plan? Do we have to stay on the boat, or can we see our loved ones?"
"There should be room for all of you and what you seem to have, so please move yourselves and your belongings aboard the truck," she told him, and he noticed how she looked at the Kendalls after they moved away. She noticed him, and reassured him softly, "Yours are fine, Mr. Summers, but a lot of people died here last night."
He guiltily let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd held.
The truck pulled up to the front of the high school and after they were quickly shooed out, it sped off on another errand. Marcie led them into the quad, where a military chaplain and Ms. Barton took the Kendalls aside as they others moved toward the library. They heard the news being broken as they entered the library.
Hank Summers followed Marcie in, Charles Gunn and his sister Alonna right behind, Regan Page Chase and her boyfriend David Kendall Waves holding her hand while somehow managing two back packs, Alicia Deirdre Chase and her friend Lillian Morgan, a fellow beginning law student at UCLA, bringing up the rear. The new arrivals noted the tables with maps, lists and one adult wearing a badge over a monk's habit, and a sergeant, talking with Xander Harris as an equal, their conversation ending and the two older men heading off with serious looks. A certain short blonde girl was talking to a twenty-something and laughing a little too comfortably in Hank Summers' opinion.
"Daddy? Daddy!" Buffy cried out, charging in a blur at him as a second blur of darker hair color came from the library office, clipboard in hand, to join in the big hug.
"It's alright," Hank let out, "Everything's okay," he told them as the others looked at the happy reunion. Regan and the others setting their bags to the side as a young Englishman walked up to them.
"My name is Wesley, can I help you?" he asked, not as pompous as he might have once upon a time, and certainly not after a day of helping out.
"Yeah," Gunn responded, shaking the offered hand, "My sister and I are with Hank, here, and I guess we need to see what's going on with him. This is Alonna. Then, that's Alicia Chase, Regan Chase, Lillian Morgan and David Waves. They're all locals, so they need your help first."
"My, any relation to Cordelia Chase?" the man asked.
"Our sister, why?" Regan asked.
"She's been of extremely helpful assistance in all this," Wesley told her, not noticing as Alicia started sizing him up, "She's with your parents at the supermarket, helping with supplying your fellow Sunnydalers that due to communications issues, are unable to access their funds."
"Bet he's making a buck at it," David murmured with a smirk, only to be corrected by Wesley.
"Not at all, the contrary is the truth of the matter, the Chases are not loaning money, they're covering the first shopping cart of essentials for each family that comes through."
"What!" Regan asked, suddenly feeling even after the disaster of the last day, that she'd entered the twilight zone, "My parents are altruistic!"
"Indeed, and have offered lodging to many of Ms. Chase's companions."
"Wow, the world is different today from yesterday," David nodded as his girlfriend of the last few months sat heavily in a chair and began to show signs of stress and maybe shock.
Joyce Summers walked in, clipboard in one hand, wearing a white coat, hair tied back, looking tired but years younger and healthier. She noticed her ex and daughters together and shook her head in surprise even though they'd warned her of his arrival.
"Hello Hank," she greeted as the three-way hug parted, looking around for his secretary, "I'm glad to see you're well."
"Thanks Joyce," he smiled sadly, "And Sharon's not here…she died in the riots." Joyce reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, the daughters who'd equally resented the woman at a loss as to what to say.
"Anyway," he continued, gesturing at the Gunn siblings, "These two here saved me from some…strange people…and since we were cut off from everywhere else, I got us to the company boat at Santa Monica, ran into the Kendalls and Chases who'd been at some shindig, and here we are."
"Wow, you know the Chases and Kendalls?" Buffy asked
"I work for Mr. Reginald Chase, so I've run into his family on rare occasions, except for his youngest, and John Kendall works for an affiliated company. Also in finance, I believe."
"Wow, small world, you work for Cordelia's dad," Buffy sighed, "That's just made the day perfect."
"Oh?" the Summers parents questioned.
"She's bordering on being a thorn, hopefully she won't be a thorn bush," Buffy sighed.
"I'm sure it's fine," Joyce told her.
"And you've saved her life enough times maybe Dad can get a raise and shower us with presents," Dawn added with a toothy smile that made them all laugh, then got serious, "Mom, we're waiting for the second round of trucks to get back with the pharmacy stuff, until then all we have are the few first aid kits we have left."
"Oh," Joyce sighed, watching as Buffy dragged Hank away so the 'medics' could get back to work on the few that hadn't been moved to the hospital.
Buffy guided her Dad over to where a young man was directing two pale individuals in some basic tasks that needed doing, the activity important but clearly foisted on them because of the looks in their eyes, desperate to do something.
"I need you two to take a casual walk around, and see where we'll need to watch after dark falls, the soldiers don't really know how to handle things, and you two are our most experienced."
"Alright," Liam Angel told the young man, and starting to guide the former vampiress with him when Buffy showed up.
"Angel, Xander, Edith, this is my dad, Hank Summers," Buffy said, gesturing as she introduced them to each other. Pleasantries were exchanged, "Angel is my boyfriend, Dad."
The two men looked at each other.
"I…see," Hank responded quietly, sizing up the other man, then turned to face Buffy, "And your mother has given her stamp of approval?"
"Um, not yet, but we haven't really discussed it yet with what's going on," she replied suddenly uncomfortably, "Why?"
"Well…" he began, looking between them, "Mr. Angel seems to be in his mid-twenties, and has a very slight accent…so a father's curiosity has to be aroused a least a little bit. What is your occupation, Mr. Angel?"
"He works for me, actually, Mr. Summers, and is not at liberty to tell even his much younger girlfriend what he does," Xander told him, "But if he hurts her, or does anything untoward before she turns eighteen they won't find the body, fair enough?" The group, including the two other Summers females approaching with Hondo and Giles nearing them, pause in shock but all three older men smile in agreement.
"And if he's too slow, we'll make sure of it, right Rupert?" Hondo asked the librarian.
"Got that right, guv," Ripper let out, bringing a smile to all the males that weren't Angel.
"I thought you guys like Angel!" Buffy exclaimed in surprise.
"We do, Buff," Xander told her, "But that doesn't change the fact he's a bit old for ya, and that you have two honorary uncles and an honorary brother to make sure it all stays on the up and up."
"Hmm, in that case, I have no other objections," Hank added with surprising and uncharacteristic interest in his daughter's well-being, though most of it was his own recognition of failings and a need to compensate, "and what is your occupation, Xander?"
"He works for me," Hondo deadpanned without giving anything away.
"And what do you do?" Hank asked, hoping the run-around would cease.
"I'm in the hardware and security businesses."
"And what does Xander do?"
"He's assistant director of the security division."
"So that makes Angel, here, a security guard?" Hank grimaced, looking askance at Joyce.
"Don't give me that look, Hank Summers!" she scolded him, "I haven't said anything, one way or the other yet, but she will not be seeing him unchaperoned until I do decide." She gave the patented mother-glare at all concerned.