Authors Note:
The rationale behind the title will become clear in the fourth chapter.
Of course, Tara should be dead, but I prefer her alive. Her part in this story is really quite small, but it just didn't feel right to me to have left her out completely. Also, I know there shouldn't be an intact Magic Box, but in this slightly alternate Buffy-verse, the Magic Box was not destroyed; that follows logically from Tara not getting murdered.
If it makes you feel better to place this story in the sixth season, be my guest, although that does mess up the High School reference. My plot doesn't really depend on the events of any specific episode, it takes place in a kind of in-between place that Joss Whedon didn't write about.
Chapter III
It was noon several days later when Buffy walked up a sidewalk to a large and slightly decrepit apartment complex situated on the wrong side of the tracks in East Sunnydale. She had a list of addresses that Willow had supplied and was studying the list and not paying that much attention to her surroundings – she was aware of sirens in the distance but it hadn't really penetrated that the sirens were growing closer. Her afternoon's peaceful investigating was suddenly interrupted as someone violently slammed open a wooden gate between the buildings in front of her. A very large man came running out, he was six foot ten inches tall, three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, carrying an insanely large machete so razor sharp that light glittered brightly along its sharp edge, and it had a piece of rebar welded to the opposite edge in order to increase the heft and depth of penetration. The machete was dripping in blood and there were unappetizing hunks of blood, bone, and assorted gore stuck to his clothes.
He looked up from his headlong rush and saw Buffy standing in the sidewalk in his path, and shouted, "You don't see me, girl!" and started to run off at an angle.
Buffy yelled back, "Of course I can see you, I can describe you perfectly!"
"Then I'm sorry," he replied as he angled back towards Buffy, "but you'll have to die – it's nothing personal but – oof!"
He had started to swing his raised machete down and to his left at Buffy's head, but was positively stopped when Buffy snapped her left hand up and captured his wrist in an iron grip. Buffy swung his arm with the bloody machete in a short violent arc, sideways and down, and simultaneously dug her fingertips into the inside of his wrist. At the end of the arc his hand went limp, but his machete continued on course and twanged as it penetrated more than a foot into the ground.
Buffy then did one of those Slayer moves that even the best practitioner of the martial arts would have difficulty doing without a little supernatural additive. She jumped straight up with tremendous force, even though she started nearly flat-footed. As she gained altitude, her right foot snapped up and she kicked him below the belt with enough force that he started to bend violently forward from his waist. Buffy dropped her foot but continued her knee upward into his chin. He instantly dropped to the ground – Buffy was still arcing upwards so she did a mid-air flip and came down with her feet astride her attacker, her fists cocked back and ready to do more damage. But he was unconscious.
Detective Stein and his new partner, newly minted Detective Roberta Bianchi had run around the corner a moment later, following the footsteps of their runner. Detective Bianchi had her gun out and came to a stop, Detective Stein skidded to a halt beside her and said to Bianchi, "You can (puff, puff) put your gun away (gasp, cough), Bobbie, when Ms. Summers stops someone – they're either dead or unconscious (huff, gasp).
Detective Bianchi had a shocked expression on her face as she took in the bloody giant perp lying still, his machete stuck in the ground at a steep angle, and Buffy standing over him looking grim and dangerous even with her diminutive stature. Then Buffy put her hands down and backed off. She tossed her head and relaxed, in an instant she stopped looking dangerous and became just another college girl. Bianchi got out her handcuffs and cautiously approached. She checked the perp's pulse and quickly cuffed him.
"Hey," said Bobbie to Buffy, "don't I know you? You were the girl who fought that – whatever the hell it was – in front of my cruiser a few months ago, weren't you?"
"Yeah, that was me," Buffy admitted, not too happy about it. She could see that what little was left of her secret identity was stretched awfully thin.
"Remind me Stein, to never get this girl mad at me," she said.
Buffy asked, "What'd this guy do anyway?"
Stein said, "He's a murder suspect."
"Well, he seems to be, um, human," said Buffy, with a little glance at Detective Bianchi to see how she reacted to that phrasing, "and how come plainclothes detectives are running down suspects, don't you guys usually leave that sort of stuff up to uniformed cops?"
"We were re-canvassing the neighborhood while investigating that horrific multiple murder from a week ago.I'm sure you saw it on the news. We knocked on the door of a house just a block away from the scene. One perp jumped through the window at the side of the house. He had a blanket over his head and he appeared to be on fire."
Detective Bianchi looked at Stein inquisitively, "Stein, are you sure you want to tell this civilian about that?"
"Yes Bianchi, Buffy is a specialist in this – wild animal stuff. But don't go broadcasting to the squad." Stein continued the story, "He ran with inhuman speed past the patrol car stopped on the street, smoke pouring off him like crazy, then jumped down an open manhole on the other side of the street."
Detective Bianchi picked up the story, "I started to go after him, but then this mutt crashed out of the front door and knocked us off the front porch waving his bloody machete around like a maniac. I swear, those things oughta be illegal! Actually, he probably is a maniac, we haven't had time to go through the house, but glancing through the door it looked a lot like the last crime scene." Bianchi looked shaken at what she had glimpsed.
Stein said, "We haven't been advertising this, but the vics in the first house had severe neck injuries, but oddly enough, they were post-mortem wounds. And the victims were exsanguinated.
"So did any cops go down the manhole? Will any do you think?" asked Buffy.
Stein answered, "No, we all know better than to chase smoking perps into the sewers, right Bobbie?"
Bobbie Bianchi looked a little pissed off, but agreed, "Yeah, I guess I was just caught up in the moment when I started to chase that murderer."
"Say Buffy," said Detective Stein, "you'd best get going if you don't want to get caught up in the jaws of justice, we never saw you, right Detective?"
"Uh, sure, whatever you say Stein."
Buffy finally noticed the sirens were growing closer, "Bye guys," and waved. She disappeared up the alley on the other side of the building.
"Stein, what the hell are you doing, letting her go like that and blabbing all that police business? I must've still been in shock myself to – but I was just following your lead."
Stein replied, "Don't worry about it, and don't mention it to anyone else."
Bianchi sighed and said, "OK, but what are we going to say when the witnesses who are no doubt hiding behind all those curtained windows across the street come forward and describe her to the other detectives?"
"Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it."
"OK," Bianchi said with puzzled sigh, "you're the senior detective on the scene".
Moments later a multitude of cop cars screeched to a halt every which way around them.
-- --
A little later that day Buffy walked by Riley's old apartment. She looked in the windows and noticed that while all of Riley's personal gear was gone, along with most of the furniture, there was still a desk, a couple of chairs, and a telephone. So, she got out her key ring and flipped to the key the Riley had given her and tried the lock. "Score..." she exclaimed, "it hasn't been changed." She walked in and sat down at the desk. She dithered for a few moments, wondering if this was the smart thing to do, and finally picked up the phone. She heard several clicks and then an echoic silence. She shrugged and said into the phone, "This is Buffy. I need to know if more than one HST was fitted with behavior modification chips, and if you believe that any could still be at large in this area. Let me know as soon as you can." Then she hung up.
-- --
A few days later Buffy was sitting in the Espresso Pump having a triple-mocha-doublecream-froth-double-shot-cappuccino-with-cinnamon when a stranger sat down across from her. She was a thirtyish woman who would look right at home wearing a lab coat. Buffy looked up at her and said, "It's your quarter."
"We're not certain if we should tell you anything," said Ms. X, without any preamble, "why do you need this information?"
"Because there is a vampire wandering around here that has hooked up with a human serial murderer. This charming pair has been wiping out entire families. The victims have post-mortem neck wounds and have had their blood drained, also post-mortem, according to my informants in the police department. If there was exactly one recipient of one of your cute little chips, then I know who I have to slay, no question. If there was more than one, I have a little more work cut out for me. The police have detained the human half of this enterprising pair. I don't know how fast the vampire can find a replacement for him, or whether I can track him down in time to stop another mass killing."
Ms. X stared at Buffy and considered her options for more than a minute. Buffy waited patiently until Ms. X finally said, "More than one, less than ten. Unfortunately, after the final debacle at the internment facility, we have only an approximation as to how many of the HST's with the Angleman Behavior Modifier could be at large. One guess is five, another guess is one."
She paused a moment and looked at Buffy. "We do owe you a huge debt, one that, even if the world were a fair place, could never be fully repaid even though we would be trying. In fact, I owe my life to you. That's the only reason I am talking to you now. Nevertheless, try not to call us too often – you can never really trust us, we are the government after all."
She looked at Buffy appraisingly, as if considering something critical and eventually said, "My supervisor and I discussed at length whether or not we should give you this. He left it up to me in the end." Ms. X handed Buffy an unlabeled CD in a jewel case, "Be careful with this, it has jpeg's of each recipient of the chip, and distinguishing details, as well as incomplete specifications for the chips themselves. It has enough information that your Ms. Rosenberg should be able to construct a detector that will determine if a creature has the A.B.M. chip implant and will indicate whether or not it is functioning within optimum parameters. The information on this disc is considered so sensitive that we have prepared a self-destruct sequence for it. The disc is good for thirty days, then it will simply delaminate and the information layers will disintegrate. Should the disc be in your CD-ROM drive when it self-destructs, you will need to replace the drive. Also, you may be in for an unpleasant surprise if you attempt to copy any portion of this CD."
"You must be from the RIAA," Buffy said wryly.
"You may use this information, you may not disseminate it in any form whatsoever," said Ms. X as she got up and left without another word or even a look back.
-- --
