Characters and settings are used without permission, and with no intention of damaging copyright in the original stories. This story may not be distributed on any profit-making basis. Distribution Fanfiction.net, Twisting The Hellmouth, Fonts of Wisdom, other sites please ask. I'm British, so's my spelling - live with it.
by Marcus L. Rowland
IX
"Okay," said Joe Rossi, "What's the big mystery?"
"I could tell you but I'd have to kill you," joked Billie.
"C'mon," said Animal, "give."
"Okay, but the whole story can't be published yet. Maybe never. Did you all read the business section yesterday?"
Rossi and Tommy nodded, Animal shook his head, all three looked confused.
"Okay, what was the lead story?"
"Solid state drives," said Animal. The others stared at him. "Hey, big news for digital photography, it's about the only story I did read in that section."
"Fine. SunnyD Technology, ever heard of them before that story?" Everyone shook their heads. "That's because it's a new startup company. W. Rosenberg, their CEO, is Willow Rosenberg, my niece."
"They said a billion dollars over five years," said Rossi, "no wonder the lawyers are taking an interest."
"Apparently there are some other inventions in the pipeline," said Billie, "mostly related to computers and robotics, and potentially as big or bigger." Animal whistled softly. "She'll probably be a billionaire before the end of the year."
"This niece of yours like older men?" asked Rossi.
"She's already in a relationship."
"So someone learned that she was gonna be rich," said Tommy, "and found out that she was looking for her family, and this guy Lindsay MacDonald decided to snatch you and... I guess try to get ransom for you, except that doesn't explain what the body was for."
"There are all sorts of theories. One I'm leaning towards is that MacDonald quit, and Wolfram and Hart kept tabs on him until they needed a scapegoat then framed him for the kidnapping attempt. Of course that makes them multiple murderers, and we can't prove that, but it's an interesting theory."
"I hope your niece has good security," said Tommy. "Someone with that much money, only just out of her teens..."
"She has," said Billie. "For obvious reasons I can't discuss it, but it seems to be good. How it'll hold out when every paper and TV station in the world wants an interview...."
"You'll have to help her through it," said Rossi, "and get us an exclusive, of course. Okay, what about the other stuff, that guy Holtz?"
"I was afraid you were going to ask me that. It turns out to be grade 'A' Twilight Zone material; Holtz, Angel, the whole deal. And I'm led to believe that Wolfram and Hart are in it up to their necks." Rossi groaned. All of them knew what she meant; the world of magic and the supernatural.
"All of it?" asked Tommy.
"I had to make some promises before they'd tell me much. Once they did I knew it was nothing that we could ever cover in the Trib. Let me put it this way... you remember Caritas? Lorne's bar?"
"Oh yeah." The others nodded, and Rossi said "Must be a year since I was there."
"You won't go there again, someone firebombed the place. Currently he's Angel's house guest. And he wasn't the strangest person I met there this weekend."
"I was afraid that there might be something like that," said Tommy, "once I started digging further into the background on Sunnydale. Makes Twin Peaks look normal. So I took a closer look at Angel, even more weirdness there."
"And you didn't tell me because...?"
"You were in hospital, I didn't want to worry you."
"Fine. Don't do that again."
"So is there anything for the Trib in this?" asked Rossi.
"Willow already agree to be interviewed, she's free from two onwards today. And she's giving us an exclusive." There were broad grins from the others.
"You planning to conduct the interview?"
"I was thinking Joe Trask from the business section and Kevin Blum for the science, I'd love to go along but I've just got too much work backed up here. It'd probably be a good idea to conduct the interview at UC Sunnydale if possible, give it a more appropriate setting than her home. I don't think her company is much more than paper, a web site and an e-mail address at present, so we can't use her office."
"What about the human interest story?"
"Which one?" asked Billie, although she already knew the answer, and had agreed with Willow that it would have to be written.
"The long-lost niece thing, of course. The police of three states were searching for her when your sister died, there were stories in the paper for at least a week. I think the public might want to know that the case has been solved, if nothing else it'll stop any more nuts from trying to claim your so-called family fortune."
"Okay, I'll write it, but it needs to be handled carefully. I think a story on the lines of 'Hey, I found my long-lost niece, she's a billionaire, and people want to kidnap me to put pressure on her' could cause a few problems."
"Not to mention giving other people ideas."
"Exactly. It's going to come out but let's take it slowly. I don't want to muddy the waters for the police."
"So keep it down to basics," said Rossi, "she's found you, she doesn't want publicity and you're respecting her wishes, the scientific miracle of genetic fingerprinting, yadda yadda."
"Okay, but nothing to identify her specifically, or link it to the kidnapping."
"People will work it out, the kidnapping and genetic fingerprinting have already been linked by the police."
"But we don't have to comment. If anyone asks, we just say that the police have asked us not to discuss the investigation. In a few days nobody will remember or care, some other story will have come along."
"Or it'll all blow up in our faces."
"That's always a possibility, let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Billie called Nick Gibson and arranged to send Trask and Blum to Sunnydale, briefed them on the story, and hoped that things would go smoothly. CNN, Reuters, and several other papers were also on the trail, but hopefully they wouldn't get far with the minimal information in SunnyD Technology's incorporation papers; a lawyer's offices in Los Angeles, a post office box in Sunnydale and an e-mail account registered to the post office box were the only contact details given. With luck the Trib would have a good old-fashioned scoop. Meanwhile Billie sat at her terminal and began to type.
by Billie Newman
Usually the Tribune doesn't comment on the personal lives of its reporters and editorial staff. We would carry the story if one of us was involved in a crime or some other newsworthy event, of course, but otherwise it's an area we try to avoid. However, there are occasional exceptions. Today I'm writing about an event which isn't news, but once was. Twenty-one years ago the personal life of my family briefly made the headlines, when the accidental death of my sister led to an unsuccessful three-state hunt for her newly-born child. Since then I've lost track of the number of times I've been asked about the case. There have been many disappointments; I've been contacted by impostors who assumed that there was something to be gained by pretending to be a niece or nephew, and by orphans who hoped that they'd found their true family. All eventually proved to be unrelated.
Today I'm finally able to report success, although it isn't my success. Twenty-one years ago a newly-born girl was found abandoned in a city not far from Los Angeles. Somehow the local police department never connected her to my sister. She was taken into care and eventually adopted by a childless family. Recently she learned the truth, looked into stories of missing children around the time she was born and discovered that she was probably my niece. Genetic fingerprinting has confirmed this, and we now have twenty-one years of catching up to do.
I'm happy, of course, but sad that we have both missed so much. I've missed her childhood illnesses and triumphs, her first school play, her graduation. She never knew her real mother or grandpar_
Billie frowned at the blinking cursor on the screen. It was trite, and she knew she could do better work, but how the hell was she supposed to write this without mentioning the kidnapping, Wolfram and Hart, Holtz, Angel, or Willow's name. She changed a few lines, changed it again, added sidebars on the death of her sister, the search for her child, and genetic fingerprinting, eventually put something together that looked vaguely like a human interest story, then sent it off to Rewrite and asked them to salvage it as best they could. What came back was too sugary for her liking, but a lot more readable. She toned down the sweetness a little and added it to the list of stories for tomorrow's paper, with a note that it could be held back if something more important intervened. It wasn't going to win her another Pulitzer, but it was the kind of upbeat story that made a useful filler if there was nothing better to replace it.
Trask and Blum got back from Sunnydale a little after six, and put together a nice little piece on SunnyD Technology and the new drives while loudly crowing over the media posses they'd managed to dodge on their way to the interview. Sunnydale Post Office was under siege, and a half-dozen TV network trucks were parked around a house which Billie could only assume belonged to Willow's adoptive parents; must be the only Rosenbergs in the Sunnydale phone book. It was impossible to avoid naming Willow, but Billie checked the story carefully and removed a couple of references that made it too obvious that Willow was still a student at UC Sunnydale, then sent it down to Legal to make sure that nothing in there could be construed as giving Willow or David Nabbitt an unfair trading position. Since SunnyD wasn't a publicly quoted company the risk was minimal, but better safe than sorry.
A little after seven Willow phoned. "Hi. Thought I'd better warn you, April's on CNN."
"April?" Billie switched her TV to CNN's evening reports, a newsreader she didn't know was talking with a chart of soy-bean future prices behind him. "She's not on the TV here."
"It's my fault, she goes to pick up the company mail every evening, I forgot to tell her to skip it tonight. The second she opened the box she was mobbed by reporters. Wait a minute, I think they're coming up to it again now. Call me back when you've seen it."
Bernard Fox, one of CNN's science journalists, was on the screen, with an animated diagram of Willow's new drive behind him; the caption credited it to SunnyD's web site. It showed tiny pulses of laser light bouncing through something that looked like a honeycomb made of orange Jello, but was labelled as 'Holographic matrix'. Billie turned up the sound. "...dramatic breakthrough allowing data transfer times about five times better than normal drives and virtually instantaneous access. Earlier this afternoon we spoke to David Nabbitt." The picture shifted to Nabbitt in a room full of computers, saying "Apart from speed and cheapness the really exciting aspect of this technology is reliability. With no moving parts and very little heat we estimate the mean time before failure at fifty to a hundred thousand hours, and that's being very conservative, it might be much more. Essentially, we'd expect the drives to out-last the rest of the computer." The picture shifted again, showing a group of reporters outside a post office. "Meanwhile reporters have still failed to make contact with SunnyD Technology, the closest encounter so far left a few questions unanswered." April came out of the post office wearing a smart business suit and carrying a bundle of letters. There was a barrage of shutter clicks and flashes, and someone shouted "Do you work for SunnyD Technology?"
"Yes," said April, moving toward the camera and tucking the letters into her jacket. A photographer stood in her path; she said "Excuse me", when he didn't move she picked him up by the elbows and moved him to one side. Willow had said that April was stronger than a normal human, now Billie believed it. The other journalists moved back to give her room.
Another reporter shouted "Where are your offices?"
"In Sunnydale."
"Can you answer a few questions?"
"Yes."
"Where are the offices?"
"In Sunnydale."
"You said you'd answer our questions."
April pushed past the camera, saying "I said I can, not that I would."
The camera swung round to show April walking away, with several reporters following. Buffy's jeep stopped at the kerb as she reached it, and Billie could see Zap driving. April climbed in before the reporters had time to react, and Zap drove off while they were still shouting questions. A second later the camera went back to the studio, and Fox said "Well, we lost our link to Sunnydale at that point, apparently due to a voltage spike, and that's really all that we've learned there today. SunnyD technology are alive and well and living in Sunnydale, and have at least one employee who knows how to handle journalists." The picture behind him shifted to a photograph of Saturn and a NASA logo; Billie turned down the sound and dialled Willow's number.
"Summers residence," said an unfamiliar girl's voice.
"Could I speak to Willow Rosenberg please? This is Billie Newman?"
"Willow's aunt? Just a sec, I'll give her a shout...." Billie heard a muffled yell, then "Okay, she'll be a couple of minutes. I'm Dawn by the way, nice to talk to you."
"Dawn? Oh, Cordelia showed me a picture. Nice to talk to you too."
"Can I ask you something while you're waiting?"
"Sure."
"Is being a reporter fun? 'cos it sounds really cool, and I need to start thinking about a major when I get to college. I always kept diaries and stuff, maybe it's something I should look at."
"It's mostly hard work, but there are times when it's very good."
"Maybe I'll hit you for a job in a few years... here's Willow."
There was a rustling noise, then Willow took the phone. "Sorry, I was in the middle of something on line and couldn't leave it. Did you see the report?"
"Just saw it. What happened after the link went down?"
"Well, they all kinda found out their electronics weren't working any more, and I think that they were still trying to work it out when April and Zap left."
"Magnetic pulse?"
"That's right. We're worried that they might trace the Jeep's licence plates so I've hacked the DMV, for the next few days they'll be shown as belonging to Mayor Wilkins, and he's been dead three years."
"I don't think you've got anything to worry about apart from that, most of those guys couldn't find their way across town without a native guide, they'll probably head to the nearest bar or back to LA in the next few hours. Once we've published our story a lot of the heat will be gone anyway, it'll be yesterday's news."
"LA is good, bars in Sunnydale not so good. Some of the customers aren't exactly human."
"Even TV reporters probably know the score well enough not to make waves."
"I hope so, but I'll warn Buffy to expect trouble. She can always get round them a little earlier than usual, make sure that nobody snacks on a camera-man or something. What did you mean, a native guide?"
"Some sort of local, a journalist or a cabbie who knows the town."
"I wish them luck, the cabs here kinda disappear at nightfall, and if any reporter in Sunnydale knows where I live I'll be amazed. The paper here isn't exactly noted for investigative journalism. They might know my folks address, but the TV guys have already been there anyway. Anyone who knows where I am, and who Buffy is especially, ought to know better than to point them in this direction."
"Okay. About the story... do you want me to mention April? Her name, that is, not any personal details. It might help explain that scene if people know she's your secretary."
"I'd have to check with her and she went home with Zap. I doubt she cares much, but I'll ask."
"Call me back within the next hour or so if you want to mention her, if I don't hear from you I'll assume you want things left the way that they are."
"Okay."
They chatted for a few minutes, then Billie said "I'd better get on, there's a lot to do before we put the paper to bed."
"Do you really say things like that? I always thought it was just in films."
"Where did you think the films got it from? The bed used to be part of a printing press."
"Oh, right. Okay, I'd better let you get on with it. Goodnight, talk to you again soon."
"Goodnight."
Billie hung off and thought fondly of her niece. And wished that she wasn't going to have to betray her.
To Be Continued