"G-man! Tell me you don't have extra work for us on the very day of summer break! That would be Nuremberg Trial punishment." The entire gang, sans Buffy, was gathered in the library. Willow, Oz, Xander, and Cordelia. They had all been called in by the Watcher for some urgent business on the first official day of summer break. It was almost enough to make Xander cry.
Giles, however, didn't seem to notice or care. Probably the latter. "Because we are going to a party tonight," he stated, much to the surprise of just about everyone. "So, get your best outfits together and, and, whatever it is that young people do in preparation for a...shindig."
It was Willow, brave, valiant Willow, who's broken mind mended itself first. "Giles, that's just sick and wrong." Most everyone just nodded as best they could. Giles and party, not to mention the very word shindig, did not compute. "And-and I thought this was about Buffy? That's what you said when you called."
The librarian slid a flier over the table so everyone could see it. "It's both. She's being honored by the Mayor of Sunnydale and the Police Commissioner for saving the Deputy Mayor last night." Removing his glasses, Giles began to furiously clean them like he always did when things weren't going according to plan. "This was an internal memo for city employees, of course. I'm allowed to bring several guests and you four are them."
"Buffy went and saved someone without telling us?" Oz had seen the news about the recent fire a the old harbor, but hadn't put two and two together before now. He only knew that a government employee had been held hostage there.
"But, we're the support...people. We should have done stuff," Xander argued. He looked less than pleased about being left out of the loop.
That was precisely the point Giles was going to make when he saw Buffy. The girl hadn't given him a contact number or even called last night. Not only that, she was going to be in the media! A Slayer was supposed to work from behind the scenes, not revel in lights and attention. Whatever was going on was decidedly unsettling, but it would all come out tonight.
For better or worse.
Chapter 4: Tip the Light Fantastic
For what must have been the hundredth time, Buffy fiddled with the ribbon on her dress. Something just wasn't right with it and she continued to adjust and readjust anything she could get her hands on until the master seamstress put a stop to it.
"Stop fidgeting so much! I can't tell if the dress needs to be altered if you keep moving," the old crone snapped.
Buffy wasn't in a good mood either. "Yeah? You aren't going to be the one wearing this thing in front of the biggest names in town." She had her own formal ware, but the Mayor was insistent on getting something new for the big occasion. Pants would be better for a quick getaway, too.
Yes, for what must have been the first time in her life, Buffy was getting positive attention from the adult community and she wanted to do nothing more than crawl under a rock.
Saving Finch had been the catalyst that set-off this entire melodrama. Buffy had brought him to a hospital on her back, herself nearly drained of any energy and bleeding from just about every part of her body. She had passed out the second she had made it into the lobby. Apparently, that was one of the prerequisites to being a bonafide hero. Somehow the story had leaked out, altered, of course, and now there were even reporters who wanted an interview with the brave teen. Sensing an opportunity to truly show how much Sunnydale appreciated its resident Slayer, the Mayor had drummed-up an entire gala event, inviting just about anyone who was in on what exactly Sunnydale was up against after the sun went down. There was even talk of Buffy getting the key to the city.
"Ow!" The tough-as-nails slayer yelped when a stray needle poked into her leg, bringing her back to the present. "Watch what you're doing with those things." Of course, there wasn't much more damage to be done to the girl's body. Her shoulders had to be stitched up, her face was still swollen, she had a very nasty black eye, and she had pulled a ligament in her leg. Those, along with all the other assorted welts and bruises, made for a sorry-looking hero.
Too bad for her that the Mayor was set on this little party. It was also an election year and he had explained that it would be good publicity. A win-win.
"Alright, strip. This will have to be shortened by tonight," the rather rude seamstress snapped. Glaring at her, Buffy complied and slipped out of the sleeveless dress and tossed back on her street clothes. The batty old woman got one look at them and scoffed loudly.
Fortunately for the seamstress, Buffy didn't care about the her opinion. "Send the bill to the Mayor's office and call me on my cell when it's done."
Well, that was one annoying chore out of the way. Makeup tests that morning had pretty much killed Buffy's mood, but the girl supposed she was quite lucky considering she had missed her original test date. Influence was a nice thing to have when it came to things like that.
Now, though, the girl was left with nothing to do but mull over her thoughts. That, given her experience at the docks, was not a good thing. When she closed her eyes, Buffy could still feel the blood streaming down her face, the crack of the shogun as it went off, and the feel of its kick in her hand. Two people had died as a direct result of her actions and who knows how many had died in the fire itself. Buffy wished there was someone she could talk to, but that was a very short list.
Obviously, her first thought was to run to Giles. However, he was a Watcher. Telling him about something like this...it wouldn't go over very good. Besides, she was already on thin ice with him because of the runaway thing. No, he would probably put her under observation or something like that.
Next to Giles were Buffy's friends. Willow would most likely freak out and Buffy still felt like pounding Xander into paste. Needless to say they were both out. She didn't know Oz well enough to talk to him, either. Cordelia would just file it away for later use in some stupid argument. Outside of them, there was really no one left. No one except for...well, he might be willing to listen.
The Mayor was always busy to some extent and Buffy understood this. What she didn't understand was the constant flow of people coming in and out of his office at one thirty in the afternoon. She watched the door for a little while before her curiosity got the better of her. Pushing it open just a bit, she poked her head inside.
"...Golly, that's quite a price tag you have on a charm that's only from around from the late thirteen hundreds." The Mayor was holding up some sort of jewel and looking it over. And who was that he was talking to? That was a very familiar voice...
"You just don't have an eye for quality work, Mayor. Nor do you have a mind for business. Supply and demand." Okay, now Buffy pretty much knew who it was. The British accent gave up the game.
Opening the door, Buffy walked right on in. She drew one curious look from the Mayor and one absolutely terrified look from Ethan Rayne who was now on his feet. "Don't you think you should give him a discount, Ethan? I would take it as a personal favor considering how much that tattoo cost me to remove." The Slayer freaked him out even more when she put a strong hand on his shoulder and sat him right back down in the chair.
The poor Englishman was now caught between a rock and a blond hard place. "Buffy. How have you been?" To his credit, Ethan didn't look too panicked, but he was very confused. "Been out there long?"
Buffy ignored him. "Boss, do you know what kind of slime you're dealing with here? This guy almost got most of Sunnydale turned into vampire chow last year."
"Oh, the Halloween thing. That was a fun year!" The Mayor actually looked amused by the whole thing which honestly shocked Buffy. "He's very lucky my boys didn't find him before you did, though. They would have made it even more fun." There we go. Now, that Buffy could get behind.
All in all, Ethan wasn't looking very pleased with his odds. "Ah, sorry about that. I just...you know...wanted to mess with Rupert a bit." He was practically squirming by now. "Look, the amulet? It's a gift! A...campaign contribution!"
The Mayor made a frank face and pocketed the jewel. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Rayne. I think our business," he looked through a few disheveled papers on this desk before continuing, "is just about done. Unless you know where I can get that specialty item I was looking for..."
"That thing." Even Ethan looked disturbed. "I have no idea where you can get your hands on the Box of Gavrok." With that, the Brit was dismissed and he passed by Buffy without even a snarky look.
Buffy lingered for a moment before plopping down in the comfy chair Ethan had just vacated. "So, what's the Box of Fragglerock?" she asked. It sounded mystical-y.
"It's the Box of Gavrok and it's no big deal." The Mayor was obviously avoiding the question, but he did so with a smile that said it would be best not to call him on it. "Anyway! Thanks for that little intercession. That man was asking for too much for a simple focusing crystal."
"So that's what it was. Need to do more spells or something?" Buffy didn't particularly mind, but the Mayor was starting to garner a bit more attention. Something just wasn't sitting right. "Where did you learn all your magic from, anyway? Did they teach you that in law school?"
Despite the insinuation, the Mayor erupted into a fit of chuckles. "Heavens no. It was just something I picked up...on the long road of life." The man looked wistful for a moment, but it was gone just as suddenly as it had appeared. "So, what can I do for you, little lady? Did you find a dress for tonight?"
Buffy was willing to accept that kind of answer. For now. "I found one, but I'm still not sure about this ceremony thing. I was...just doing my job." Besides the killing humans part. That's what she had come to talk about, though. "Mr. Wilkins, Have you ever...done something bad to do something good? Something really, really bad?"
Sometime during the question, the Mayor had gotten up to look out the large bay window he had beside his desk. When Buffy finished, he cut in, "You know, when I first took this job I had to make sacrifices. Sacrifices that would make normal people condemn me right out of the gate." He motioned for Buffy to join him and when she did he placed a fatherly arm around her shoulder and pulled up the blinds so all of Sunnydale was sprawled out before him. "But you know what? I don't regret it. I know deep down that this city will be better for it. Gosh, the entire state will be better for it. That's what keeps me sane and lets me do these kinds of things. The magic, the demons, everything else; it's all for those people walking and living down there."
"This is different than some political stuff!" Buffy argued. "I killed someone! The Slayer, me, defender of everything good, ended the life of another human! I-I'm a murderer...!"
Wilkins pinched his ward as hard as he could and frowned down at her when she snapped out of her self-loathing. "Now, none of that. You saved Mr. Finch's life; without you, his head would be sitting on my desk right now, murdered by the very people you had to kill to save him. Listen, I can't tell you how many times I've had to sign-off on psychiatric reviews for police officers that have killed criminals in the line of duty. It's all a part of protecting the people they represent. They enjoy their work, go back to their families, and go right back on the beat the day after. It's part of being human; protecting what you believe in."
Those words seem to have sank in a bit. Buffy was still obviously disturbed, but it didn't look like she was ready to throw herself out of the window. "I'm supposed to be better than human," she mumbled, mostly to herself.
"You are what you are, I am what I am, and the people you fight against are who they are. If you look at everything in black and white, you'll be beating up yourself for years to come. Heck, you'll probably have a nervous breakdown!" Sobering up a bit, the most powerful man in Sunnydale suddenly looked like one of the weakest as his eyes lingered on the people walking the streets below.
"There will always be certain things we have to do in our line of work. Sacrifices that others wouldn't make or steps they would be able to take. It's all about the big picture. If you stop looking at that, then what are you living for? The moment? The moment is fleeting and unstable. Always, always, always plan ahead. Little nuggets of good will never add up to a mountain, Buffy. They will always just be little nuggets. Peanuts." He turned to the Slayer and smiled one of his thousand-watt grins at her. "And you, Miss Summers, are not a peanuts kind of girl. That's why we get up every morning, put one foot in front of the other, and keep walking our chosen path. We might have to push other people off of it once in awhile, and that can be tough, but so long as you end up building that mountain in the end it's all worth it."
Buffy looked up at the Mayor, mulling over his words. "Peanuts, huh?" Buffy didn't understand it at all. What did peanuts have to do with this? Sacrifices, though, she understood. "Sacrifices. That's the story of my life."
"Then maybe it's time to write a new book?"
With a chuckle, Wilkins gave the girl's shoulder one last squeeze before closing the blind. "Remember what I said; you are what you are. Never ask yourself to be anything else." He walked back over to his desk and pulled out a set of keys from a drawer and jingled them. "What do you say we head out for lunch and some ice cream? There's been enough gloom and doom to last a lifetime in this office!"
'Maybe, just maybe, I can put off the doom for a few more memories,' Buffy thought as she followed the Mayor. For the first time in a long time, life wasn't looking so bad at the moment...
"Life sucks!"
Buffy poked her head into the ballroom once again, but the number of people who were milling around hadn't changed since the last time she'd looked. In fact, it seemed like more were coming at every tick of the clock.
The Mayor had already headed out to play host with all the various movers and shakers after giving none-too-subtle hints that Buffy should do the same. It wasn't that the blond teenager didn't want to go out there, eat some great food, and have fun, not at all. There was just...this expectation hanging over her. When she had first walked in with her Boss, people had actually clapped. So much attention for doing something that she had been doing for years.
For sure, she had always wanted more attention and recognition. Slaying was a thankless job for so long, to suddenly be thrust into a spotlight was overwhelming. Yet, here she was. Hiding in the back of the room, trying to sneak behind one of the larger curtains.
"Buffy! Come on out here so the people can see you!"
Oh no. Sometime during her pity introspection, the Mayor had gathered a small mob and had spotted her. A small, clapping mob made up mostly of policemen, politicians, and lawyers.
It was like facing the Master all over again.
"Uh, hi..." Buffy tried not to look too embarrassed and moved from her hiding spot. "Flag had a crease in it. It's my civic duty to fix...creases on flags."
Of course, being the mindless civil servants that they were, and not wanting to piss off the Mayor, they laughed at the perceived joke. Better than looking at the girl like she was insane and getting called on it.
One of them, a clean-cut man in an army officer's uniform, stepped out of the crowd and held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Summers. I'm Captain Munroe, the guy who's been wishing he could say this in person for a very long time." When Buffy shook his hand, the man's face lit up just a bit. "You've dealt with more stuff than any of my men or women could. If it weren't for you, the entire city would have been overrun a long time ago. I just want to thank you for that."
Buffy just stared blankly as this sentiment was echoed by just about everyone else in the group. An older man sniffled as he grasped his wife's hand. "You saved our son's life last year when that vampire started executing people at that club downtown. I don't know how I can thank you, but if you ever need anything my law office is always open to you." The old woman patted her husband's hand and gave the Slayer a soft smile as well.
"You all know about me?" Buffy had to ask because things were quickly going into Twilight Zone Mode. "You're not freaked out? You don't want me to leave?"
The very thought of that seemingly confused Buffy's well-wishers. The old lawyer's wife, who looked the most unsure, spoke up, "Why would we want that, dear? You're our city's hero."
A hero. A simple title that Buffy had never applied to herself. She had heard Xander go on about that whenever he was joking around, but the Slayer had never considered herself a bonafide hero before. It didn't make sense. If these people knew what she had done...who she had killed...then no one would think of her as a hero. Heroes didn't kill people!
"Attention everyone, attention." A shrill voice popped from the large speakers set up around the room. The small raised stage at the front was now occupied by a mousish woman, one of the Mayor's secretaries, who was tapping a champagne glass to get attention. "Welcome to the one hundredth annual Sunnydale Civics Awards." She paused to allow the polite clapping to subside. "And now, I turn the floor over to tonight's Master of Proceedings, Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third."
Buffy's boss waved good-naturedly as he walked away from the little group. Thanking his secretary for announcing him, he tapped it a few times while he waited for everyone's attention.
"Testing, testing?" The crowd laughed at the slightly shy look their elected leader was sporting as he waited for a thumbs up from the guy running the sound system. "Well! I welcome you all here tonight and I hope you're having a great time. Food, drinks, and friends; the best of the world, right here. Can we get the tables out here now?" He pulled a bit of slack and walked over to the edge of the podium while a few stagehands rushed out with a table for the podium and dinning tables for the guests and the food trays that contained the main courses rolled out. "Dinner will be in a second, folks, so just keep a lid on those stomachs. I can hear Bob's from up here."
Seemingly left to her own devices, Buffy quickly wandered away from the crowd of people she had been talking to with the Mayor. She didn't want to talk with them when there wasn't a buffer around, just in case they changed their tune. No one actually considered her a hero, that was just silly. She wandered over to the bar and picked up the nearest thing she could get her hands on. If there was one night that called for trying liquor, tonight was it.
After only a second to prepare herself, Buffy downed a large gulp of whatever the bottle she had grabbed was. She immediately regretted it and nearly tossed what little she had eaten earlier. "How can adults stand this stuff?!" she hacked.
"Well, we usually don't start with a straight shot of bourbon." Buffy wheeled around at the sound of the voice, and in the process got her bottle taken away. Giles looked at the brand and groaned. "Really Buffy, eighty proof whiskey? And American at that."
Buffy looked like she had just been caught with her hand in the bad-tasting cookie jar. "I wasn't, you didn't...I thought it was Pepsi." She licked her lips, lapping up whatever evidence was left on them. "So, what's up? World need saving?"
The Watcher shook his head and poured a glass of wine. He did set the bottle of bourbon between himself and Buffy as he leaned up against the counter, though. "No, nothing like that. I was simply invited, like many public servants, to this little party. It's for you, isn't it?" There was a slight edge in his voice that Buffy found difficult to ignore.
"Wasn't my idea," she pouted. She licked her lips again and found that she enjoyed the outdoor-ish taste, despite how it felt going down. With Giles standing right there, though, she wasn't about to take another drink. "So, you heard all about it?"
Giles slightly nodded over his wine glass. His attention was focused on the Mayor as he went into a lecture about civil service and past honoraries. "Do I need to tell you that you were rash in going off by yourself? I know you have a...a...new sense of independence, but I don't want anything to happen to you. At the very least, I could have probably spared you from this farce."
Buffy shot a slight glare over at her watcher. It wasn't that she didn't feel a bit odd about getting an award for something, but the dismissive way in which Giles had said it. "You don't think I've earned a reward?" she challenged.
"What?" Giles was hardly paying his charge any attention. He was far more focused on how there seemed to be a duplicity to what the Mayor was saying, as if there were some giant inside joke in the room that most everyone was aware of. "Buffy, how well do you know Wilkins?" he asked, not taking his eyes off either the Mayor or his shady-looking staff.
Now the Slayer was properly pissed. She grabbed the bottle of bourbon back and took another swig, albeit drinking less than her first attempt. It burned its way down the girl's throat, but it made her headache ratchet down a few levels. "He's like anyone else." Buffy knew she should have mentioned something about what the Mayor was doing, this was her Watcher, after all, but the blond couldn't force herself to let the words slip past her lips.
Mayor Wilkins had taken her in, had fixed her life, hadn't judged her, hadn't lied to her, hadn't explicitly asked her to go out and save the world...he had just been there. Understanding and firm, the public servant had gone above and beyond his job description. Buffy felt compelled to cover for the man. After all, who was Giles to judge another person on using magic?
"...and now, it's time for the lady of the hour, Miss Buffy Anne Summers, to come and receive the key to the city. Buffy? Could you come up here?"
Oh shit! The Slayer hastily put down the liquor bottle and made her way through the clapping crowd. She hopped up onto the stage and shyly accepted the symbolic ribbon Wilkins slipped over her head. There was a small key hanging off of it with her name inscribed. Even though the gesture was small, it was the only gift she had ever received for her capacity as the Slayer, aside from Mr. Pointy. Now the crowd was calling for a speech, that wasn't good!
"I couldn't, I mean..." The Mayor was already handing her the microphone, though, and Buffy found herself on stage in front of a crowd of eager people with absolutely nothing to say. "Ah...I'm...really honored to receive this." Buffy wanted to leave right then and there, but the happy faces in the room with her made her linger. They were all so bright and thankful. Honestly thankful.
Something hit Buffy's cheek and dripped to the floor. The blond rubbed her eyes with her free hand, surprised at herself. "I really don't know what to say. I just did what I've always done, I didn't ask for any thanks. I don't deserve any thanks."
The faces of the people she had killed so easily flashed before her eyes and made her nauseous. The feel of their blood splattering on her face, their expressions as they looked death in the eye. Buffy Summers was a haunted woman. "I shouldn't have this award, I shouldn't even be here! My entire life is about sacrifice, I should even be ready to give that up!" The crowd was properly stunned as their honored guest started to break down. "Did they deserve to die? What made them better than me?" she sobbed. The Mayor stepped in and wrapped an arm around the blond, easing her away from the microphone.
"Because you saved my life!"
A lone voice broke the silence that had befallen the gathering. Buffy looked up and saw Allen Finch pushing his way up to the stage. He looked out of breath, probably due to his being late. Still, the man looked distressed. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now. You're a hero," he said.
The old couple from before also spoke up, saying, "How could you say such a thing about yourself?! You've saved this entire city time after time!" A general chorus of shouts rose up afterwards, their den drowning out anything else.
"You saved my daughter!" said one, "You killed the monster that killed my husband," said another. People who looked more at home in mansions and on television were all yelling like they were at some great stadium, cheering on the home team.
Mayor Wilkins smiled and squeezed Buffy's shoulder. "You see? I told you earlier; you don't have to be anything but yourself, and still people will support you. You protected a person, you've saved lives. Human, demon, whatever it is, whatever you had to go through, you've done what you think is right. Always be proud of that a few deaths now prevented a possible slaughter later. Think about that."
As the Mayor left Buffy's side to calm the crowd, Buffy absorbed his words. Done what she thought was right? How could killing someone, a living, breathing person, be right? She looked at the people she had done it for, though, and realized that they were what she had to protect. The people. The whole over the few.
Allen Finch played a role in the government of the city. If he were to have died, criminals everywhere would have been emboldened. How many of the people here would have suffered? How many more across Sunnydale would have died? Did the lives of two criminals, who had taken up with a demon, mean more than the safety of thousands? It was then that Buffy began to understand.
"Peanuts," she whispered. That was what the Mayor had been talking about. Alone, a single peanut wasn't very much. You get an entire bag of them, though, and you have a meal. One single person wasn't much against an entire family, city, or even planet. "Angel, I get it now." In the moment she had killed Angel, Buffy had made a choice. Either him, or the rest of the world. She had done it then without hesitation and so she had done it last night. That is what it meant to be a human. That is what it meant to be a Slayer. Not to be a mindless demon-killing machine, but to have the strength to make a difference. To carve your own path of justice.
The needs of the many.
Half a room away, Giles was still shocked into silence. Buffy had...had...what would the Counsel say? What would they do? A Slayer killing a human was unprecedented, even if it were an accident. What was more, these people knew! All of them! Buffy's secret was open to most of Sunnydale's elite. And the others...oh no...
"Buffy!" Willow, Xander, and Oz had mostly been hanging around at the back, managed to get over to the side of the stage where Buffy was standing. They had heard most of everything that had happened, but it was still processing. Cordelia hadn't even tried to understand and was still sitting at their table, her brain trying to work out what had just happened.
Xander, as always, was the first to start the question barrage. "Whoa, Buffster, what was that all about?" The teen was sporting a pretty annoyed look and he was ignoring the glares Willow was sending him. "You killed someone? Like, a real person?"
"Xander..." Willow warned. Even Oz, who hadn't known Buffy as long as the others, was stepping back. He was pulling Willow back as well.
Between the epiphany she had just had and Xander's bitching, Buffy was finding it harder and harder to control herself. He was always the first to condemn, the first to cause friction. He had been all for killing Angel, all for putting the blame on Buffy, all for sticking his nose into family business. Actually, she had never gotten around to talking to Xander about that.
A hard right hook finally shut Xander up and he actually did a full turn from the force. No one was able to react fast enough to catch the unconscious teen as he hit the dance floor. There were several screams from frightened guests, and Buffy felt someone's arm trying to restrain her from going after him again.
"Get him out of here," the Mayor hissed to his staff. He didn't feel Buffy struggling against him, but who knew what the girl might do to the others. "And you three, go with him."
Willow looked between Xander and Buffy in shock, like she couldn't believe that had actually happened. "Buffy-" But what could she say? No one seemed to have any answers.
Taking the decision away from everyone, Buffy roughly shook-off the Mayor's hold and stormed past her friends. Giles, who was just running over, was only spared the smallest of glances before he too was passed. Buffy had seen the shock and horror at her actions. These people, they didn't get it either. Buffy detoured for only a moment to grab her bottle of whiskey before storming out with all the fanfare of a marauding demon, leaving only sour looks, shocked friends, and contemplative bosses in her wake.
Away from the uproar of the room, the accusative and disgusted looks of her friends, and the weight of her actions, Buffy began to walk aimlessly around town. There wasn't anywhere she wanted to be, yet she didn't want to go back home.
Why couldn't they understand, like she had come to understand, what was the best way to protect people? If you only save one person, then that same person might be killed by something else that you didn't have the guts to save them from. Then what did your action mean? Nothing, that's what!
"They don't have the stomach for it," Buffy murmured. Wasn't that why Giles left all of the dirty work to her, the Slayer? Because he couldn't hack it. Everyone else was all to happy to drop the workload back into her lap last year, as well, once she got back. It was just so damn frustrating! The Slayer took another swig from the large bottle she was carrying around and found that it helped her nerves.
What was so hard to get? When she had to kill someone to get rid of the Master, so why did anyone care now? Of course they hadn't cared, since it had been Buffy herself. Whenever someone had to sacrifice, it was always her! She was the Slayer, the Chosen One, the biggest doormat in her generation. The Watchers didn't do anything but drop trouble and orders into her lap.
"It's a broken system," Buffy slurred. She tipped her bottle until the last drop hit her tongue and then tossed it away into a alleyway. Stupid Giles, stupid friends, stupid Xander, stupid Angel. They had all wanted so much, but what did they get in the end? "Not a damn thing," the Slayer laughed. She ran out into the street and spread out her arms as she looked up at the sky. Finally free, free to be her own Slayer, to bring her own brand of justice. Free to decide who should and shouldn't be left alone, who was the big threat, and what to do about it. Free to-
"-good evening, Miss."
Free to be caught by one of Sunnydale's finest. Apparently, a giddy blond girl in a formal dress dancing around in the street gave cops the impression that they were dealing with someone drunk in public. That, and the cop's partner had seen Buffy toss away the bottle. Being as happy as she was, though, Buffy complied with police with only minor hitches. Badges were shiny and Buffy just felt the urge to fiddle with them as the police tried to handcuff her.
Fortunately for Buffy's permanent record, the captain on duty knew of the girl's relationship with City Hall and kept everything fairly quiet. Thus, when Buffy finally awoke the next morning, she didn't have any other surprises to worry about. Not counting her first hangover, of course.
"Thanks, Chief," Buffy grumbled. The portly officer had brought her an aspirin and coffee which she had gladly accepted. "Oh god, I'll never touch another drop of liquor again. Something is trying to crawl out of my skull."
The older man chuckled and closed the cell behind Buffy. "That's what they all say, Miss Summers. Sometimes you just need to take the edge off. Next time, do it in your own house, though," he stated.
Buffy shot him a glare. "Aren't you supposed to stop impressionable kids like me from drinking?" Hardly a good example.
"If I had your job, I'd be drinking too," the Chief honestly answered. "I'm actually glad you were dropped by, we have your stuff from the other night and it needs to be claimed."
The pair walked over to the large weapons cabinet and Buffy took another drink of the bitter coffee she absolutely hated while the Chief fumbled around with the lock. He finally got it opened and passed a stake to the Slayer. "One block of wood, returned." Buffy pocketed it lovingly. She was shocked when a large shotgun was passed to her, though. "And one Ithaca 37 Stakeout, complete with shell bandoleer. The guys down at the station threw that in for you."
This was probably the last thing Buffy ever wanted to see. She held the gun like it was something alien, something reminding her of what she had done. "I don't want this...thing," the teen sputtered.
"What?" He checked the locker's manifest again and scratched his head. "It says here that this is yours. Did we put the tag on the wrong gun?"
"I don't use guns at all!" Buffy forcefully responded, only to grab her head in pain. "I just picked it up a the boat last night," she clarified in a quieter voice.
To the Slayer's aggravation, the Chief whistled at that. "You mean to tell me you face down demons, vampires, and everything else running around Sunnydale without a gun?" He took off his hat and really scratched his head this time. "I'll tell you what, you keep that in case you need it. It's already off the books as evidence." Before Buffy could argue any more, the officer had already ran over to help with an unruly prisoner being brought into the cell block.
And so, Buffy was left standing in the middle of the police station holding a mug of black coffee in one hand, a shotgun in the other, and bandoleer slung over her chest. Maybe it was time to get some combat boots and cut all her hair off, Buffy wondered as she marched out the door after grabbing some sunglasses for her eyes. Not like she was trying to look just a little bit badass. They were just for her hangover.
Yup.