Wednesday, April 25th, 2001 ~ The Magic Box ~ Sunnydale, California
As he settled into his chair at the table, Sam was relieved to see that the ghastly literature had been put aside and that his arrival had not been delayed further as the massive amount of food disappeared very rapidly. Sam was reaching for the last portion of cashew chicken when Buffy spoke up and distracted him, giving Xander the opportunity to scoop up the carton and dump a third helping on his plate.
"Giles, are you sure you want to patrol with me tonight? You're not really dressed for it," Buffy observed.
Sam, who had redirected his attention toward the single remaining egg roll, let his hand hang in mid-air as the content of Buffy's question sank in. "Patrol?" he queried.
Anya intervened before his ignorance could be exposed. "Giles left some clothes here the other day when we were planning to do inventory in the basement."
Sam exhaled in relief and sent Anya a smile of thanks, which she acknowledged with a brief nod. He lowered his hand toward its target, only to encounter an empty plate. Sam turned to see Dawn munching on an egg roll with no visible remorse. He sighed and rose from his seat. "I suppose I should get changed, then."
"On a shelf behind the counter," Anya whispered to Sam, under cover of the general conversation around the table and while ostensibly focused on collecting the used paper plates and containers.
Sam dutifully retrieved jeans, a denim shirt and a pair of cross-trainers from behind the counter and listened to the arrangements the others were making for the evening as he moved toward the restroom. Willow and Tara were planning to head home and, as he shut the door behind him, Sam overheard Buffy asking Xander and Anya to take Dawn home and stay with her until she returned from patrol.
As he pulled off his tie, Sam addressed Al, who had followed along. "What's taking Ziggy so long? She usually comes up with something before now."
"This Leap just keeps getting stranger and stranger, Sam," Al replied, poking the buttons on his hand-link despondently. "You're not gonna believe this. Ziggy says the whole town is now at the bottom of a really deep crater. The local newspaper archives and city government records are all gone so she doesn't have access to the stuff she usually uses to find out what happens to the person you replaced."
Sam stared, wide-eyed, at Al. "I'm here to prevent an earthquake?" he queried, aghast. "How am I supposed to do that?"
Al shook his head in grim amusement. "Nope, no record of an earthquake; and the crater thing doesn't happen for about two years, so I don't think you'll need to figure out how to stop that."
Sam finished buttoning and tucking in his shirt. "What good will it do for me to fix something now if they're all going to die in a huge catastrophe in just two years?" he wondered aloud, sadly.
"Oddly enough," Al continued. "Very few people seem to have died when, well, whatever it was happened. Ziggy has been going over county, state and national reports about Sunnydale and it appears there was a mass exodus in the week or so leading up to the town's destruction."
Al slapped the hand-link and squinted at the screen before sliding it into his pocket and producing a cigar. "She's come up with some interesting stuff but nothing about anyone you've met so far except for a lot of international travel by our friend Rupert Giles, both before and after the town goes splat, so at least he survived," Al concluded with some relief as he lit his cigar. He blew out a mouthful of smoke and focused on Sam again. "We're going to need these people's last names if we expect Ziggy to track down any more details."
"Maybe we can convince Anya to tell us that, at least," Sam suggested hopefully as he finished tying his shoelaces. He rose and settled his gaze on his friend. "In the meantime, I have to go on 'patrol'."
The group left the Magic Box together. Anya locked the door behind them and then followed Xander, Dawn, Willow and Tara to a car parked a short distance away. Buffy and Sam watched the car roll down the street until it left their sight after rounding a corner.
Sam turned to find Buffy looking at him with a slight smile and fondness in her eyes.
"It's been a while since just the two of us patrolled together, Watcher-mine," she said, her smile widening. "And it's nice to be able to call you that again, too. What do you think, Restfield?"
"Fine," Sam replied, not knowing what else to say. He fingered the wooden stake Buffy had given him and he had thrust into the waistband of his jeans before they had left the shop. When he had returned from changing his clothes, Buffy had set aside the short sword she had been handling and given him the stake instead. Sam was still puzzling over her comment that, without his jacket, the sword would be too conspicuous, even for Sunnydale.
As they set off down the street, Sam concentrated on appearing to stay abreast of Buffy while actually lagging a split second behind. It was a skill he had developed to an impressive degree, and by necessity, since he often needed to walk with someone toward a location that would have been familiar to the person he had replaced but was completely unknown to him. Due to his absorption in the delicate subterfuge, Al became aware of their destination before Sam.
"Aw, criminey," Al exclaimed. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Sam halted and glanced up to see an arch curving over the path onto which they had turned. The illumination of the nearly full moon allowed the words 'Restfield Cemetery' to show in clear relief amidst the decorative ironwork.
Buffy, who had paused in reaction to Sam's lack of movement, looked at him quizzically. "Something wrong? Do you think we should go to Shady Rest instead?"
Sam gulped and struggled to appear composed. "No, no. This is... fine. I guess," he replied, without conviction, as he returned to her side. He managed a weak smile and an 'after you' gesture toward the entrance.
Buffy, apparently satisfied, turned and walked along with Sam under the arch.
Al followed reluctantly behind. "I really, really want this Leap to be over now, okay?" he groused. "Maybe Sam can go save someone from a bad haircut or a foolish decision about a new car. That would be a good thing, right?"
Al continued his diatribe as he trailed along behind Buffy and Sam, who were walking among the graves in companionable silence. After about ten more minutes of non-stop complaining, Sam felt his nerves reaching the breaking point. As he began pondering a way to, unobtrusively, tell his friend to shut up there was a rustling in the bushes off to their left.
"Look out, Giles," Buffy warned, running toward a figure that had emerged from the foliage. Sam and Al stepped back, shocked by the strange deformity of the face of what they otherwise might have thought to be a man. Their attention was, shortly thereafter, diverted to the elegant flow of movement interspersed with apparently heavy blows that Buffy was demonstrating on her hapless foe.
"Wow, take a look at that, will ya?" Al breathed, as Buffy easily dodged three consecutive roundhouse punches by her opponent. "She's really something."
Sam nodded wordlessly, noticing that, while the creature became increasingly clumsy, confused and aggravated, Buffy remained composed and seemed almost bored with the action. The thing roared and attempted a headlong rush at her, which Buffy side-stepped. As the much taller and heavier figure went by, she grasped him by the arm and, seemingly without effort, flipped him onto his back on the ground. Buffy followed through by plunging her stake, which had appeared in her hand as if by magic, squarely into the chest of the prone body.
Sam's gasp of alarm was cut short when the body of the man dissolved with a distinct 'whoosh'. Sam stared in disbelief as Buffy rose and blithely brushed dust and grass clippings from her clothing. As she approached Sam, her smile disappeared and her expression became concerned.
"What's wrong, Giles? Was my form bad? Did you think I toyed with him too long? I know you're all for 'plunge and move on' but a girl's gotta work off steam sometimes." She stopped right in front of Sam and looked up curiously into his face.
Sam blinked. He was dimly aware of Al prattling on behind him, saying "Did you see that? Sam! Did you see that?" over and over, but he forced himself to focus on Buffy, noticing the frown of consternation she wore.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a worried tone.
"Um, yes," Sam managed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying to think of something convincing to explain what was, apparently, an uncharacteristic reaction on his part to what he had just witnessed. As he became aware of his involuntary, nervous movement an idea came to him. "It's just that... I mean I have to..." he shifted his weight again while attempting to guess how Giles would explain the situation.
Buffy's powers of observation saved him. "Oh," she said, taking a step back, her frown giving way to a slightly embarrassed little smile. "You have to 'spend a penny' as you put it?" she inquired, a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes," Sam agreed with relief. "That's it." He took a step away from her then stopped, realizing he didn't know if there were any public restrooms in a cemetery; and, if there were, where the ones in this cemetery might be located.
Buffy misinterpreted his hesitation. "C'mon, Giles," she said, brightly. "Lighten up. It's not the first time you've had too much tea before we went on patrol. You know I won't peek. You go over there," she said, pointing to a clump of trees a few yards away. "And you can find me over there when you're finished," she added waving toward a row of crypts that stood in the opposite direction. She moved off determinedly toward the structures after tossing him a final cheeky grin.
Sam shuffled slowly behind the clump of trees.
"Sam!" Al demanded loudly. "Did you see that? Tell me I'm not hallucinating."
"You're not hallucinating," Sam replied. "I saw it too."
"That was a vampire," Al announced. "A real, live, er... unlive... undead, you know, vampire."
Sam mulled Al's opinion over, considering alternate possibilities. "Well, it appeared to be a vampire," he said, hesitantly.
"Oh, come on, Sam. You saw that thing; the weird face, the yellow eyes, the fangs! And it exploded into dust when she staked it through the heart! Don't try the 'there must be a rational, scientific explanation' thing with me after that!" Al exclaimed in exasperation. "Told you vampires were real," he reminded Sam smugly.
Sam seemed uncertain and stood silently watching his friend rock exultantly back and forth from heel to toe, a broad, satisfied smile on his face. "Maybe," Sam allowed. "Just give me a minute and we'll talk some more while we go find Buffy." Sam turned toward the tree and reached for his fly.
"What are you doing?" Al inquired.
Sam sighed deeply. "Sometimes it's not just an excuse to talk to you privately, Al. Sometimes I actually need to go," he explained.
"Oh, sorry pal," Al apologized. "Don't mind me. I'll just go over here..."
Just as Sam turned back toward the tree and Al turned the other way, they both heard the crackling of something moving in the bushes nearby. The men leaped away from the shrubbery, expecting another attack. Their hearts started beating again and they let out sighs of relief when a small dog wiggled his way into view.
"Holy Christ," Al wheezed, his hand pressed against his chest. "Don't do that ya mangy little varmint. You could give someone a heart attack."
The dog, a black and tan Chihuahua, barked sharply and wagged his tail; pleased that he had frightened two huge interlopers in his domain. He stayed some distance away but sniffed in Sam's direction and, after a moment, gave a little whine and a snort. He turned his head toward Al and sniffed, then shook his head. He sniffed again, then stiffened slightly, growled deep in his throat and shied away out of sight beyond the trees.
"I guess he recognizes Giles and is upset that he couldn't smell you," Sam said to Al, amused by the tiny dog's performance.
"Tough," Al replied. "He scared ten years off my life jumping out of the bushes like that."
Sam moved back toward the tree and Al remained where he was. Sam had just undone his fly and let himself relax enough to let go when a voice sounded behind him.
"Oi, Watcher. Don't ya have no respect for other folks' front gardens?"
Sam whipped around in fright, sending a stream of urine across the lower legs of the jeans of the latest prowler.
"Bloody hell!" the intruder growled. "Watch yourself, man..."
Sam stuttered over an apology while tucking himself away but whatever he was about to say was cut off when the bleach-blond man scowled at him and took a menacing step forward.
"I thought I heard Buffy's voice but you're not Giles, for all that you're wearin' his clothes. What are you playing at, then?" he challenged. "And what the hell is that," he added pointing at Al, who had approached at the sound of a new voice.
"Is everyone gonna be able to see me on this Leap?" Al groaned.
"I... we..." Sam began in halting explanation, trailing off as the dog that had scared them earlier trotted back toward them. Evidently put out by other males marking objects in his territory, he lifted his leg and put his mark over the one Sam had just placed on the other man's pants.
"Leave off, ya little bugger," the blond snarled, swinging a booted foot in the direction of the small animal.
"Hey!" Sam objected, on behalf of the dog - who had anticipated the retaliatory attack and danced out of reach.
"Sam! Vampire!" Al yelped, pointing at the stranger, who was clutching his head in pain and whose face had morphed into a mask of horror, his fangs clearly visible as he grimaced in agony.
Sam fumbled for his stake and barely managed to pull it free of his clothing as the vampire struggled through a final flare of pain. He lifted his head to see Sam's fist, holding the stake, hurtle toward his chest.
"Wha..." was all he managed to say before Sam planted the stake deep in his heart, stepped back and watched as the vampire burst into a cloud of ash that settled slowly onto the grass.
Sam and Al stared down at the remains of the vampire, stunned into silence and immobility. The little dog appeared once more. They watched as he circled the spot, lifted his leg and christened the area with his scent. After scraping his back paws through the untouched grass beyond the edge of the dusty remnants of the creature, the dog gave a dismissive snort and trotted off into the darkness.
"Holy crap, Sam," Al intoned, looking up at his friend. "You killed a vampire!"
End Part 6