The following morning, Buffy Summers woke to urgent knocking on her bedroom door. She propped herself up on her elbows just as her mother, Joyce, stepped into the room. When the cheery "good morning!" didn't come, Buffy blinked the sleepies away and studied her mom carefully.
The older woman's expression was sad, and her eyes were red and swollen. Had she been crying?
"Mom, what's wrong?"
"Sweetie…come downstairs with me. There's something you need to see."
"Uh…okay, Mom." Buffy was very worried now.
When they reached the family room, Joyce slipped an arm around her daughter and sat them down on the couch. Then she picked up the TV remote and pressed the "mute" button.
"---police are making no official statement at this time," droned the smartly-dressed female reporter from Channel 9, "but a source within the department, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, indicated that arson may be involved."
The screen flicked to a wide shot of The Bronze, which was now little more than a smoldering shell of itself, before returning to the woman.
"Once again, here is what we know: at some point last evening, a fire broke out at the Sunnydale nightclub The Bronze. Firefighters were called to the scene, but despite their best efforts, they could neither control nor extinguish the blaze. There are no reports of revelers escaping the fire. Police have not yet provided a casualty estimate, but judging by the sheer number of people lined up behind the barricades, seeking any sign, any glimpse of their loved ones—"
The camera panned to a large crowd of weeping, shouting people pressed against the temporary metal barrier and held there for a moment before swinging back to the reporter.
"—the death toll will most likely be substantial." She did her best to appear stricken for moment before resuming her professional demeanor. "This is Tina Wallace reporting for Channel 9 News."
The feed cut to the newsroom, where a man with very large hair said, "Thank you, Tina. A cruise line for pets? Don't laugh, it could happen. Details after the break!"
Joyce turned off the TV.
"Oh. My. God," Buffy breathed, staring at nothing. "The Bronze…all those people…"
Joyce rubbed her daughter's back as she dealt with the shock. After a while, Buffy turned and said, "Mom, I hang out there. People I know hang out there."
Buffy sniffled and Joyce pulled her into a comforting embrace. "I know, honey. I'm so sorry."
The slayer sagged against her mother for a minute or two, letting the tears flow. Then a terrible thought flitted through her mind and she lunged for the phone, hastily punching up Willow's number. "Please be there…"
After a couple rings, the other end picked up, and Willow croaked, "Hello?"
"Oh, Wil! You're there! Oh thank God!"
"Um, Buffy? Where else would I be at, uhh…7:30 in the morning? On a Saturday?"
"Just throw on some clothes and come over. I gotta call Xander."
Buffy hung up before the redhead could get another word in. When she called Xander's house, the phone rang and rang. "Pick up, pick up, pick up…"
He picked up. "Ugh?"
"Xander?"
"Ungle."
"Xander!"
"What?"
"Meeting, my house, ASAP. Pick up Cordy on the way."
"She won't like that."
"Not really caring, Xander."
"Gah…okay." Click.
Buffy set the phone down feeling tremendously better. "They're okay, Mom. I don't think they know yet…"
"So I gather. Looks like we're going to need some serious pancakes."
Joyce patted Buffy's knee and moved off into the kitchen. Buffy sat back to ponder the news. Some small part of her couldn't help wondering if the ex was involved.
***
A few minutes later, Willow burst through the front door. Her eyes locked on Buffy. "What? What?"
Buffy held up a hand. "Can we wait till Xander gets here? I don't wanna go over it twice."
"Uh…okay, Buffy. Hey, something smells really good!"
"Mom's cooking up some pancakes."
"Ooh! Ooh! Pancakes! Happy day!"
Buffy felt queasy. Willow noticed and dialed down the levity. She sat next to her best friend, softly asking, "Not so happy day?"
Silence.
"Something bad happened, didn't it?"
"I'm afraid so, Wils."
A bedraggled Xander Harris shuffled through the door with Cordelia Chase trailing behind. He yawned a jaw-cracking yawn and sat on the coffee table. "Hi Wils, Buff. What's the—hey, do I smell pancakes?"
Cordy rolled her eyes. "Forget breakfast, Xander! Buffy, why are we here at this ungodly hour?"
"They don't call her Cut-To-The-Chase for nothin' folks," quipped Xander.
"Well hardy frickin' har," the cheerleader sneered. "Did you get that from the latest issue of Dork Magazine?"
That put Willow in defend Xander mode. "Hey now—"
"Enough!" Buffy roared, and mouths snapped shut. The slayer counted to five. "Now, the reason I called everyone over…something terrible has happened. There's no easy way to say this, but…The Bronze burned to the ground last night. With people in it."
There was silence. Buffy imagined she could hear the diurnal crickets.
Xander eventually gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, I get it. This is a practical joke. Um. Buffster, we gotta work on your sense of humor."
"I'm not joking Xander." Buffy turned on the TV and flipped channels till she found one covering the story. "See?"
Xander looked pole-axed, as did Cordelia. Willow crumpled into sobs. Buffy took the slight redhead in her arms, rocking gently.
Joyce popped out of kitchen to announce that breakfast was served, but thought better of it once she absorbed the scene in the living room. Wrapped up in her own grief, she quietly placed the food in the oven to keep it warm. It would be there when they needed it.
***
Back at the mansion, Spike and Angelus watched Drusilla play with Miss Edith and the other dollies. Presently, the insane vampiress was cooing and running an ivory comb through Edith's blond bangs.
Out of boredom, Spike said, "Yano, pet, Edith here resembles the Slayer a touch."
Drusilla hissed like an angry cat. Spike held up his hands in amusement. "Sorry, luv."
"Why are you apologizing to me? It's Miss Edith you've offended."
Angelus chortled. Spike turned to the doll and placed a hand over his silent heart. "Madame, I crave your pardon."
Drusilla seemed to listen for a moment and then let out a giggle. "Miss Edith says good thing for you you're so charming."
Angelus snorted in derision. "Speaking of Slutty the vampire layer, I've decided that for our little experiment, it's best if we work quickly. As Dru can attest, I usually like to spread the torment over weeks, or even months, but this little bitch has a knack for spoiling my plans. So, we won't give her the opportunity."
Spike leaned forward, practically twitching with excitement. "Right-o, Pops. What's the play?"
"Divide and conquer. My daytime eyes and ears tell me the Slayer and her crew are blubbering and licking their wounds at Summers residence. Having sampled Joyce's cooking, I expect they'll stay through dinner and then some. When they do leave the house, we'll be outside waiting. Drusilla, I want you to capture the boy and bring him to the mansion relatively unscathed."
"Oh Daddy! You know what I like. I'll be sweet, I promise."
"Spike, you grab the cheerleader."
"Bloody hell. I'm gonna need a ball gag."
"And I'll fetch the redhead." Angelus glanced at the large grandfather clock. "Four hours till sunset. Gather your teams, supplies, whatever, and meet me back here."
Drusilla pranced out the room singing a Xander-themed lullaby. Spike was halfway to the door when Angelus said, "Oh, Spike, there's one more thing."
As the blond vampire turned, a boot lashed out, catching him in the chest. The wheelchair fell back and Spike tumbled out of it, slamming into a marble pedestal. Before he could get his bearings, Angelus was looming over him, delivering kick after vicious kick to his stomach. Out of desperation, Spike tipped the pedestal, creating a barrier between him and his grandsire. He rolled to his feet unsteadily, then cursed himself as he realized his cover was blown.
"Bollocks…"
Angelus just stood there, clenching his fists and wearing a murderous expression. "Lie to me again, and you'll be walking on sunshine. Now get the fuck out of my sight."
***
After a sumptuous dinner of pot roast and potatoes—"Food is the best therapy," mumbled Xander as he inhaled his fifth crescent roll—the Scoobies retired to the living room for a movie. Although they'd spent the entire day together, crying, talking, playing Candyland, et cetera, et cetera, no one seemed in a hurry to leave.
"I think we're gonna need a comedy," said Buffy, flipping through the Summers collection as everyone settled in.
***
About halfway through the film, the sun slipped under the horizon. A few minutes after that, a group of vampires assembled in the shadows of Revello Drive.
***
The movie ended and everyone climbed out from under their pillows and blankets.
"Well, now that it's dark out," Cordelia announced, "I can sneak home incognito. Thanks for the yummy food, Joyce. Bye, losers."
She grabbed her purse and slipped out the door.
***
"That's your cue, Spike," murmured Angelus.
Spike gave an insolent salute and stalked off after the cheerleader.
***
"I pronounce Cordelia healed," said Joyce.
Xander brayed like a donkey. "Good one, Mrs. Summers. Well, I'm off. Those comic books won't read themselves."
He made his goodbyes and headed out.
***
"Go get him, Dru."
"Rawr." Dru flicked her wrist and sashayed into the night, a couple minions trailing behind her.
***
"Are you gonna be okay, Willow?"
"Yeah, I think so. I'm just glad Oz and his band weren't there last night. Is that wrong? To feel glad at the expense of dead people?"
Buffy shook her head. "No, I don't think it's wrong. I feel the same way."
Willow offered a tentative smile. "Thanks, Buffy."
Buffy pulled her into a long hug, then Willow quietly gathered her things and left.
***
"Red. My favorite color." Angelus kicked away from the tree he was leaning against and sauntered after the girl.