Chapter Two: The Museum

Buffy had stood watch on the roof of that building all night, and no sign of the Batman. She was starting to think that he was not interested.

The good men are always the hardest ones to find.

She knew that her plan was not working out the way she had hoped, but it wasn't any different than the actual reality of her plan. What she had hoped had been a figment of her imagination, full of bunny rabbits and rainbows, where everything was easy and what she wanted just showed up in the palm of her hand like, was not happening here. The reality of it, as known by very few besides a Slayer, is not everything goes how you want it to no matter how delusional one may be. She knew she was going to have to try something else the next night.

She managed to get back in the way she had gotten out and slip back into the elevator as everyone else was getting out. She went back to her expensive hotel room, picked up her stuff, and checked out. Deciding she would get to know the city better if she walked around (and because she didn't have any money to splurge for a cab), she traversed the busy streets, taking in the sights, and making her way toward the not so nice part of Gotham.

The railway was free, so she hopped on board it and it took her over the River Liberty and into the heart of Gotham, past several more tall buildings, including one named Wayne Tower, which actually seemed to be in the very center of the city. Or rather close to it. Boy, she thought to herself as she sat on one of the few occupied seats in the car she was in, this guy Wayne must really think a lot about himself if he has a building named after him.

While looking up sites that she might like to visit if she found the time in the city, she found the Wayne Botanical Gardens as one of the listed sites to see. That was two. This Wayne guy was really popular.

It became apparent to her that at some point she was going to have to find a job, some way to support herself while she was here. There weren't many jobs open to a young woman who had barely made it through high school and had not finished college, even though she had spent some time as a councilor in Sunnydale. She needed something that would allow her to do her job as Slayer, but pay her money so she would not be a starving or a homeless Slayer.

While riding the rail, skimming the Gotham City papers on her iphone, she came across a story that interested her greatly.

Gotham City Museum was struck again last night. The assailants appeared to be after some ancient Syrian artifacts that date back to the 7th century. The museum curator, a Dr. Anthony Livingston, stated that he was unsure why the criminals are after these items.

"They were used long ago in ancient rituals. Human sacrifices and the sort. It has also been found in few texts that the artifacts were used to summon demons from the underworld, if you can believe such nonsense."

Buffy sighed. Yep, she could believe such nonsense. Maybe this was why she had to come here, to Gotham, to stop whoever from getting these artifacts and summoning up so big bad from hell. She had to get into the museum.

Getting off the newspaper's site, she brought up another number and punched it. A few short rings later and there was an answer on the other end.

"Giles, I need a favor."

"I could not believe the old boy calling me up out of the blue like that." Dr. Livingstone shook his head. He was an older gentleman, at least seventy if Buffy had to guess, and he was in a wheelchair. The chair buzzed and hissed as if it were going to break down at any second, but the good doctor just rolled along without any worries at all.

It just so happened that the museum needed someone to catalog items that were in storage in the basement of the old place, and to cross check and make sure that what was on display was what was supposed to be on display and displayed properly. And it just so happened that Giles knew Dr. Livingstone. What luck!

"It was fortunate for me that I came to Gotham at the right time," Buffy stated, glancing around as she followed beside the Doctor's wheelchair. The place was practically deserted except for a school group and a couple she was sure was not here to expand their knowledge on the past.

"Yes. It is," the doctor stated excitedly. "I hope you don't mind working at night."

"Oh, no." Buffy had to hide a smile. "I have no problem working at night."

"It gets kind of spooky in here."

"That won't bother me."

The doctor laughed and led Buffy down another wide hall, this one full of dinosaur bones and displays he had to wheel around, and did so with ease. Down a side hall, she noticed a heavy velvet curtain, and several signs of construction, including a sign that read "Pardon Our Mess."

"What is that?" She asked.

"Oh! That." Dr. Livingstone pulled to a stop and backed up a little, careful of her feet. "We are opening a new exhibit tomorrow night. Having a huge gala for it also. All funded by Mr. Wayne."

Wayne. There was that name again. The guy must be rich and a lover of his name in the papers and on buildings and . . . galas.

"You will come, won't you?" Dr. Livingstone asked, his wheelchair sounding as if it were a strain for it to get going again.

Buffy began to turn him down, but something made her say instead: "Sure. I would love to."

Buffy really wished she hadn't agreed to go to the gala, because she didn't have a thing to wear. It was hard keeping nice clothes when one was a Slayer and blood, no matter what color, was hard to get out.

Dr. Livingstone had stated the gala was not a formal one, more like formal casual. Buffy wondered exactly what that meant.

"I supposed a nice dress, but not too glitzy," Willow offered on the phone two hours before the gala was to begin. Buffy had already decided that she was going to take a change of clothes with her. She didn't officially start until the next night, but Dr. Livingstone trusted Giles' word enough that she already had a key and the security code for the door in the underground parking garage of the museum. She would go to the gala, get a good look around, and then change, and spend a couple of hours patrolling before going back and keeping an eye out for vamps. She was almost certain that they would not try and crash the gala.

"I have a sort of nice dress." Buffy held the article of clothing up in front of her, studying it closely. She hadn't ever worn this dress patrolling, so it was not stained with demon blood. It was several shades of orange, none loud or neon, with white and black. It went down past her knee by an inch or so, and had spaghetti straps. She had a white sweater that went with it. One of those nice ones that looked like it had been knitted and a nice pair of shoes to match. "I don't know, Will. I am afraid of looking frumpy. I don't want to look frumpy." She sounded whinny. She had good reason.

"You won't look frumpy," Willow encouraged her. "You will look great. You always look great."

Buffy sighed. Her new hotel room was nowhere near as nice as the first one she had had, but at least she wasn't afraid to lie down on the bed for fear she would damage something. And it was a third of the price, and came with sirens at night, and sometimes a few brawls on the street outside.

"All the other girls will be dressed in fabulous dresses and have on a lot of jewelry." She sighed again, dropping the dress onto the bed. "I will be the frumpy girl. I should have a pair of dorky glasses and carry a book bag and snort when I laugh."

Willow laughed. "Stop it! You will look great. I mean it. So stop fretting' and get dressed. Go. Have a good time. Who knows, you just might meet someone."

"Yeah. Right." She managed to laugh. They spoke for a few more moments and then hung up. Willow was a great friend, and an awesome witch, but sometimes she just didn't get it.

Once Buffy got dressed, however, and took a good look at herself in the mirror, she realized that the dress wasn't that bad. She slipped on the shoes, nice and comfy with low one-inch heal, and pulled the sweater on. It was a short sweater, only going half way down her ribs. Checking her hair and makeup again, she grabbed her back, and swept out of the room.

She had to walk several blocks to find a taxi. The neighborhood reminded her so much of others she had seen in movies or television shows. Those made up cities where the sidewalks were always wet for some reason or another, and it was always foggy, and the street lights had a nasty habit of only working when they wanted to. It wasn't too bad of a neighborhood, but it was a lot farther away from the good neighborhood than she had hoped.

It wasn't like she was afraid of being mugged. She was more than a little sure that she could take care of anyone who happened to try and mug her. Once she was inside a taxi and on her way to the museum, she let her Slayer senses tune into her surroundings. There were demons and vamps here alright, but they seemed to be just on the edge of her senses. To her, it felt as if they were just hovering, waiting for the word to jump out and begin terrorizing people.

She couldn't wait.