Willow Rosenberg awoke to a huge commotion outside her house. She had adjusted to the new world time zone with relative ease, but she had still slept long past her usual time. Looking out her window she saw a group of people with cameras and microphones.
"Why is the press outside my house?" If her parents had been there, they would have chased them away with the statement that "childhood celebrity causes a multitude of problems in development" in their psychologist style. Scrambling to the phone in her room, Willow dialed the Summers number and waited until Buffy picked up.
"Buffy, good. There are all these people outside and when I looked out the window they all started taking pictures and they're trying to get inside the house right now," Willow babbled into the receiver.
"Willow, it's kinda my fault," Buffy said before briefly explaining about the Dragon the night before.
"Whoa, you slayed a dragon? That's, you know, really cool," Willow said, not really babbling anymore. "But why are they around me?"
"It's all over the morning news. They found out who I was when someone from school recognized me and then told them who my friends were," Buffy explained. "Snyder's all over the news claiming the dragon was my fault to begin with."
"Well, in a way, he's kinda right since you, you know, slept with Angel," Willow instantly regretted saying it.
"Oh, thanks Will, siding with the enemy," Buffy said, laughing it off, but inside she knew Willow was right. To assuage her guilt, Buffy had decided she would do anything to make sure Sunnydale survived, but it was a goal she had to live for, so she was damned if she was going the way of the other Slayers, the way of Kendra. She changed the topic. "So are you going to the Magic meeting?"
"Yeah, I was also thinking of going to the engineers one too, cuz, you know, I'm really good with computers and stuff.," Willow said hesitantly. "OOO! I almost forgot to tell you! I floated my first pencil last night!"
"That's great!"
"I know, and it was totally on accident, too," she babbled excitedly. For the next half hour Willow told Buffy everything about the accidental floating pencil.
Xander awoke to the sound of his hung-over father pounding on his door. Tony Harris already had a bottle in his hand when Xander opened the door. 'On the upside, no one's making more scotch so he'll run out eventually,' thought the Harris boy before asking what his father wanted.
"There's a whole bunch of reporters outside, and they want you, so get going, they're giving me a headache. What'd you do? Rob a liquor store?" Tony Harris always thought the least of his son. "Should have brought me a bottle back."
"I didn't rob anything," Xander protested, but he knew it was pointless to argue. Slipping on a pair of pants over his boxers, he went to the door to meet the press. When he opened it, he though one or two would be there, he didn't expect 15 people flashing bulbs in his face. He hadn't know there were that many reporters in Sunnydale.
There were actually a lot more. Sunnydale had several stations, one NBC and one CBS, one public television station, three public access stations and one all Christian services station. Add to it the other stations, both TV and Radio, that had offices in the city limits, and the newspapers, Sunnydale had an impressive number of reporters living in it. And they had all camped out around the Scooby Gang's houses to get the scoop.
Xander closed the door in their faces. He turned walked passed his father and went back to get dressed.
Joyce Summers was not pleased by the attention her daughter was getting. It was bad enough that they had spotted her helping attack the Dragon, but the fact that they had displayed Buffy across the airwaves in a wet t-shirt had practically sent Joyce through the roof. Waves of anger flew off of her as she opened the door. The lights flashed in her face.
"What do you think you are doing?" There was a cold edge to her voice that made even the most intrepid reporter pause.
"Amber Lang, CNN, we would like to interview your daughter." Amber Lang was a pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties with fake blond hair and a bob cut.
"No."
"But-"
"No."
"You see we-"
"No."
"But I-"
"No. And now let me explain why," Joyce leaned down slightly so she seemed to tower over them. It was a technique she sometimes had used on Buffy when the girl had done something very wrong. The reporters shrank back, just slightly. "You are reporters, and in the US you have the right to free press. But only to a point. When you splash pictures and videos of my underage daughter soaking wet all over the news for hours, you have crossed the line. When you stake out her house and those of her friends, you have crossed the line. She is my daughter and until she is 18 these kind of things are my decision. NOT YOURS! If you want information, we will release it on our own schedule."
The reporters watched her stunned as the door slammed in their faces. It opened a moment later and the Slayer's mother popped her head back out. "And if you stalk my daughter, or her friends, like a bunch of rabid paparazzi, I'll, well, you don't even want to know what I'll do to you." And the door slammed in their faces again.
Oz drove his van behind the Harris house and waited for Xander to arrive. Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies were inside talking about what to do. Giles had locked his front door and crept out the back window of his flat. Willow and Buffy had similarly escaped.
"Campus next?" Oz said, looking to the Gang in the rear view.
"Not me. Drop me off at the base," Xander said, much to the surprise of the others. He shrugged. "I have years of virtual experience as a soldier thanks to Halloween. I should at use it."
"That is rather mature of you Xander," Giles said, impressed by his decision. "However, I hesitate to feel it is the safest place for you in these times." Xander just shrugged, not having a response because the Watcher was right.
Oz soon dropped Xander off before detouring to the university. Xander was amazed at the number of reserves in Sunnydale. They were back in their uniforms, carrying duffel sacks and equipment, lined up around the block. Xander stood out by his hair and his age. Anyone could glance and see he was too young and he was sheepishly standing in line. Although he had the memories and skills of a soldier, he lacked the build and manner of an experienced soldier. Magic was great, but Xander's natural tendencies would continue to dominate: namely sarcasm and a mistrust of authority figures. The line moved swiftly as the reserves were processed and Xander found himself at the front of the remaining line.
"Name, rank, serial number and branch," the officer said, typing the information into the computer. She didn't look up as she processed him.
"Uh, Xander, I mean Alexander Laval Harris, um, no rank and I can't remember my serial number," Xander said sheepishly. The blond soldier looked up at him with a look that could have froze fire. She was about mid 30s and resembled an older Buffy in uniform and half glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Xander drooled a little out of the side of his mouth, just a little.
"How old are you kid?"
"Um, 16."
"Go home and go back to school." Damn she was sexy when she was commanding.
"Well the problem is, I remember being a soldier even though I never really was except for that one night on Halloween," he explained. She looked at him like he was an idiot.
"Go Home!"
"Yes ma'am!"
Damn she was sexy.
Joyce walked into City Hall with a stride that emanated menace. Her threats to the press were plastered all over the airwaves and they had been debating the legality of her statements. Fortunately, almost everyone who called in (with the exception of one asshole who referred to Buffy as an "Under aged Hottie") they had been in support of her decision. Many parents were equally upset that they had shown Buffy in an accidental wet t-shirt contest, however not all of those were upset against the press. Some blamed Buffy and Joyce for parading around in a wet t-shirt. Joyce was so angry that she accidentally bumped into a pretty looking Japanese woman with a pageboy cut.
"Ooff! Oh, I'm so sorry," Joyce said, helping the younger woman to her feet.
"No, that's fine. You're Joyce Summers, right?" Joyce sighed and nodded.
"Yes, I guess you saw the show today."
"No, I only watch the business reports and a couple of period dramas these days," the younger woman put out a hand. "Tendo Nabiki. Or rather Nabiki Tendo as you Americans put family name last. I am the new liaison to the City representing the Japanese and Chinese refugees. I heard about you from the mayor. He said I should meet with you concerning some logistics."
"Oh, sorry. I was so wrapped up in something I totally forgot to look where I was going," Joyce said as she shook the woman's hand. "You speak English very well."
"Well, I like money and these days English and Chinese are the languages of money. I figured I should improve my speech," Nabiki said with a smile. "And I know about unwanted attention. I did hear about your daughter: helping to kill a dragon is a most impressive feat. My brother-in-Law just barely managed to defeat a half-dragon, some years back. Herb had some impressive martial arts back then and that made up for some of the difference. They are something of friends these days."
"Wait, you mean, we had dragons back on earth?"
"Not many anymore, but a few," the Japanese business woman said with a grin.
"And your brother in Law fights them?"
"It's a bit more complicated than that. He fights just about everything," Nabiki said musing. "He's a well known power back in Japan. He got his degree and became a teacher of all things."
"So is your family here, or are you separated?" Joyce asked a bit tentatively.
"You might see my family around," Nabiki said with a wide sly smile. "My little sister, Akane and Ranma, her husband, tend to stand out. She's usually either chasing after her three kids or her him. That's not counting their friends."
"How are they coping?"
"Oh, they act like they always did. And the kids are just like Akane and Ranma, always bickering over the slightest thing. They'll be five this year," Nabiki said with a chuckle. "I doubt anyone could stand to have them in the ship for much longer. Getting back to work, when are you going to the agriculture symposium?"
"Oh, since I'm not running it, I'm planning to be there a bit late."
"Perhaps we could talk on the way then."
"I'd like that. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tendo."
At the Magic Symposium, as people were calling it, there were more than the average number of people, but they were as eclectic as would be expected. You had the New Age crowd who thought "magic" was just a metaphor for self empowerment, but had no real existence. These made up the bulk of the collection. The second group were the cultists; they had mostly arrived dressed in their robes and bearing their sacrificial knives, but a few were dressed like everyone else. The next group was significantly smaller; these were the true spell-casters who knew magic was real and had either witnessed it used, or were current casters. They ranged from rank beginners like Willow to a few long term experienced mages, one of which, pun not intended, had arrived simply to review the university campus with her daughter. The last group, and by far the smallest and most afraid, were the demons. No vampires had come, seeing as they had no way to get there in the daylight, but about ten members of other demon clans had arrived to give the others a hand. Clem was there, bearing fried chicken, as were four Brachen demons, one half-fyarl, three horned demons that looked suspiciously like Moloch and an incubus who was really just there to try to score some tail. Nine of the demons were looking at Buffy with some hesitation, but the incubus just stared in lust. Many of the other people recognized the Scooby Gang from the morning news. The first group was having a lot of trouble with the last group and the cultists were split up into their various cults. Most of the spell casters were discussing magical theory and processes while ignoring others around them.
"Oh, there's a lot of people here," Willow was rather nervous and she shook her good arm nervously. Being one of the two people the Mayor had asked to run the meeting was not going well with the butterflies in her stomach. Giles, the other meeting leader, was rather amused and remembered the talent show.
"You'll do fine," Giles reassured her with a smile. Buffy (poorly disguised in a trench coat and fedora) waved to her from the crowd. Oz just winked and gave her a thumbs up.
"Okay, um, now if everyone would please sit down," Willow said a little too quietly. As far as she could tell, no one was paying attention. 'Louder' mouthed Buffy. "PLEASE SIT DOWN!"
"Oooo, that was too loud," Willow said as she started to panic. Giles put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Oh so thank you all for coming. We have a lot to cover and now Giles needs to take over."
"Hallo, I am Rupert Giles and this is Willow Rosenberg, and we will be leading today's discussion," Giles said as an introduction. He held a paper up; it was a list of names of everyone who had attended and a few fake names some smart ass had decided to add. "I would like to thank the members of the Brachen demon clan for joining us. Their people have a long history of planar travel and they could be of great help. And we must give our thanks to all of you who have attended today. I know this is a trying time, but we all must work together." He noticed a tall thin woman with black hair raising her hand. She was one of the New Age people.
"What the hell happened?" She said, a murmur of agreement burbled up from the crowd. "Why are we here? How did we get here?"
"In a word? Magic," even with the demons in the crowd, the New Age group murmured with disbelief. "Now, the entire story is far too complex, but suffice to say that some vampires tried to destroy the world, the Slayer, Buffy Summers, and Willow, here, managed to stop them, but not before the town of Sunnydale and the surrounding areas were transported to this location."
"But where are we?"
"Truth be told, the alternate dimensions are countless and many of the texts that detailed the various hells and other planes have been lost," Giles said with a shrug. "We could be in any number of Forgotten Realms."
"So how do we get back?"
"I have no idea," said Giles truthfully. "Now any other questions?"
"So magic is real?"
"Yes. Next question?"
"How do you know Buffy?"
"Are you a member of the press?"
"Yes, but I want to know-"
"This is not a press conference, missy!" Willow tried to look menacing with her hands on her hips, but the rainbow colored shirt just wasn't cutting it. "If you wish to know about Buffy, ask her mother for an interview or I'll sure make you know better!"
Everyone had decided that Joyce Summers was press secretary for the Watcher's Council. This was pretty much because Joyce Summers was awesome and could scare anyone if she wanted to. Buffy was proud of her mom.
"But I just-" Giles held up a hand.
"As I believe Willow just said, this is not a press conference. We are here to combine our resources and knowledge to best adapt to our surroundings. If you have something positive to contribute to the conversation, please do, otherwise listen." Giles pulled off his glasses and inspected them for dust. "Now, would anyone else prefer to ask a question before we begin?" Six hands went up. "Not about Buffy or about how we got here, or about the ten demons in the room." Five hands went down. "Yes please."
"What do you hope to create by bringing us all together? I know that most of these people are either wannabes or demon cultists who can't do anything on their own, but it seems foolish to include them," this was the strong middle aged woman Giles had noted, the one with the daughter looking at colleges.
"Ultimately I want to have a magical track in school if people wish it. There is little denying magic these days so we should train it, just as we train for engineers and artists," Giles said putting his glasses back on after cleaning them. "Now I will take a back seat as Willow leads the discussion. Willow?" She had frozen. "Willow, you're up."
"Oh, okay. Um, what was your name?"
"Evelyn McClay. This is my daughter Tara," The woman said motioning to her daughter who seemed to shrink inside herself at the attention. "I've been practicing since I was five when my mother taught me. Now I teach Tara. I have a small coven back home where we join for some greater magics."
"Oh, good. Um, do you think you could tell a little about the basics of magic?" Willow was getting a little better at standing in front of others.
"It would be a pleasure," The woman said with a smile. She walked up to the front and stood beside the others on stage. "Magic is, at its heart, like everything else. We are all made up of atoms which are made up of smaller parts which are in turn made up of energy. Magic is very simply the method we us to manipulate the energies around us. This can be anything from lifting a pencil to connecting oneself to the earth and plants around you. Within the limits of your creativity and control, anything is possible. Although our magical knowledge is severely weak when compared to centuries past, we can still create some impressive effects." A hand went up. "Yes?"
"Is it true that magic and technology are incompatible like they say in Harry Potter?"
"No, that is utter rubbish. And we don't need wands either. In fact some of the greatest minds have combined science and magic to wonderful effect," explained Evelyn McClay. "Some buildings have dual security systems of both magic and mundane. There are an infinite number of possibilities and combinations."
"Now there are various ways that people classify magic," Evelyn continued. She turned to the white board and started jotting down lists. "The most common way people divide magic is into two categories: Light and Dark magic. This is a rather pointless method because it forgets the most important part of magic: Intent. The second most common delineation is Divine and Arcane. This was made popular by Dungeons and Dragons. This is a little useless, considering how it doesn't represent how things really work.
"Many spells depend on the invocation of certain entities, occasionally deities, occasionally demons. Not all demons are evil. Some are quite benevolent. Other spells create countless possibilities all depending on your force of will.
"There are hundreds of magical traditions on Earth. These range from the wiccan movement to Japanese Shinto ceremonies to Catholic exorcists to cultists who follow demons, gods or worse. I am sure there are as many if not more traditions here on this new world as well. Each has its own spells and ethical outlook. Often these traditions come into conflict for various viewpoints or religious beliefs.
"Thanks Mrs. McClay," Willow said. She glanced at her self made agenda. "Okay, now why don't we make a list of what traditions we have here today?"
For the rest of the day they were busy organizing the community. By the end of the day, they had a good idea of their next step, but it would be months of work before they could build up to their eventual goal of a magical track in education
In Sunnydale Medical Center, it was complete chaos. After hours of surgery, the surgeons were finally done with the most serious cavemen cases. Every caveman was treated and then restrained to their beds. Agent Graham Miller was not on active duty, but had been discharged and the strangers (with the exception of McGristle who had been detained) had been treated, stitched up and were currently living in the mansion that had caused the whole problem. If it had been in any other place they would have thought it to be a palace, but the Frank Lloyd Wright architecture was unlike anything they had ever seen. They had been given food and drink and treated like guests, except for the soldiers standing outside who both prevented them from leaving and anyone from entering.
"I'm almost done researching the spell," Dove reported to her companions. They had found the language barrier almost impossible to break without the proper spells. They and the Drow had been deposited in the mansion the night before, and the Drow had not yet awoken. "It is a limited spell. I can read their language, but I cannot speak their tongue in return."
It was a bit of a disappointment. The spell was one of the most minor communication spells, but to develop a more powerful one would take weeks that they did not have. This was something the North needed to know about, if only to help protect them. People had tried to build cities in the Nether Mountains before and none had managed to survive for long. Monsters ruled in these hills, not the civilized races.
"Have you been able to contact your Sisters?" Gabriel asked with some trepidation. The Seven Sisters were legends, but not all of them were as…stable…as Dove Falconhand. Dove shook her head.
"No, I do not have all my spells with me, so it is difficult for me to communicate. I have sent an animal messenger, but it will take time for the bird to reach its destination," she explained.
"They seem very civilized," commented the dwarven sage Fret. "Their technology is more advanced than ours, so advanced many less enlightened people might mistake it for magic. Their food is strange as well. I do not recognize many of these vegetables, though this one," he said, holding up a piece of leafy green, "might be a variety of lettuce."
"And we have been treated well," mused Kellindil. "Though we are not allowed to roam as we will."
"From a soldier's point of view, I can understand that," Gabriel said gruffly. "They have little reason to trust us. Were it me, I would say it was far too much of a coincidence for us to arrive just when they needed help the most. I would have been much more suspicious of us."
"Yes, especially since we know this city did not exist just a few years ago," Fret agreed. "A city this size would not be built unnoticed. Though, did either of you hear the rumble from the sky last night?" Several of the others nodded. "I wonder what it was. It was much louder than those carriages that brought us here."
"Perhaps it was some attack, I heard sounds similar to those weapons they used against the orcs," Kellindil said, gesturing to his keen elven ears. "There were roars of a beast as well. I suspect they may have encountered one of the many monsters of the Nether Mountains."
"I still wonder what we are going to do with him," Gabriel said, pointing behind him at the still unconscious dark elf on the bed.
"I want to speak with him when he awakens," the blond elf said. "After all, we are cousins after a fashion."
"I am going to the house library and reading everything about these people," Dove said, "Perhaps we have gained new allies in the North."
Dove left them and retreated to the library. It was two stories tall with ever inch of shelf filled with books. On the table was a sphere that appeared to be a map. If this was correct, they had a map of the entire world, although it looked nothing like the similar maps of Toril she had seen. The concept that these people could have come from another world was not a new one. There had been tales of such in the past. Perhaps these people were from some other plane? She would have to see.
Many of the books she read were personal histories of human struggles. There was an entire section dedicated to something called the World Wars. She shivered at the concept of something that could throw an entire world in to conflict. As she read the texts she was alarmed to hear of the horrors these people called the Nazis had committed. And there were others. Books dedicated to the study of genocide where an entire ethnic group was targeted for extinction. The detailed images of the destruction was worse than anything she had seen in her centuries of life. Horrified at the concept that people were capable of such abominations (and secretly horrified at herself for the similarities to certain Faerunian conflicts), she skipped past it and discovered something more terrifying: weapons that could destroy cities. The tales of the bombs dropping on Hiroshima and Nagasaki were worse than anything she had read so far. According to her reading this had taken place barely fifty years before the book was written. What kind of world had these people come from. She took a pad of blank paper and with her feathered quill began to write notes in her own language.
She moved on to other subjects and discovered not everything was about war. The concept of Civil Rights was not exactly new, but her world was vastly different from this one she read. She read of Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X and others. She read of feminists who said they needed men like a fish needed a bicycle. Next she read about the bicycle and discovered an interesting creation. She knew many places that would have benefited from them. She wouldn't mind having one herself. She read of cities made up of tens of millions of people, bigger than most countries she had traveled to. She could not even comprehend the concept of that many people living so close together. Then she went on to other subjects like science, the liberal arts and grammar. Eventually she found the fiction section.
This was perhaps the most confusing, if pleasurable section of the library. Right inside were the words "This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental." It was like the legends told in taverns of the fish that got away or the legendary beast of the tower that no one had entered in generations. But these stories were more fanciful. Some discussed civilizations that lived among the stars, but a few were much more like her world.
After hours had passed, Kellindil walked in to tell her that the dark elf had awoken. He was amused to find her sitting at a table by the window with books piled up on the table three feet high. She didn't hear him the first two times he called. She had been reading a book called the Maltese Falcon and was amazed at how the entire story was from a villain's point of view. She had no understanding that Sam Spade was an Antihero. Michael Morcock's works would have positively shocked her.
"Dove! Lady Falconhand!" The chosen of Mystra jumped in surprise when she finally heard him. He smiled slightly at the silly human. "The dark elf has awoken."
Back in the living room, Drizzt was alarmed. The people who had been hunting him (save McGristle) were all around him and his leg was bound in such a way that he would not be able to escape. The light elf left the room before returning with the white haired woman he had seen leading them.
"You have given us a merry chase, Drow," the woman said calmly. He could not detect her current emotion. "It has been ten years since Drow were seen in these parts and the last time they slaughtered a small elven community with only one child survivor. We are interested in your intentions with the surface world."
"I didn't kill the Thistledowns," the dark elf said defensively. The light elf smirked slightly, suddenly realizing how young the dark elf was. Unbeknownst to the others, Drizzt's hand had reached into his pocket and grasped the panther figurine.
"We know you didn't. We found the barghests you killed," Kellindil said smiling sadly "and all evidence points to them. McGristle blames you though and no amount of evidence will dissuade him."
"Why is he not here?"
"The people who brought us here have him detained," Fret said amused. "After he was healed and awoke he was put in manacles and dragged away screaming. They took his dog too. It seems they do not like dirty humans."
"As dirty as he was, I doubt that he was detained for his unseemliness," Dove said with a smile. She had instantly disliked the man. "More likely it was because he had attacked you after the battle was over."
Drizzt's eyebrows rose surprised. Because of him? It was the first time anyone on the surface had leaned in his favor.
"Yes, it surprised us as well," Dove said, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the room. "So why don't you tell us how you got here."
Drizzt told them everything, from his cruel upbringing by his older sister to his father's plunge into the pool of acid. He told them about the fight against the gnolls and the barghests and about how he tried to introduce himself to the Thistledowns. Finally he told them of his side of the chase. "Now I have no place at all." Dove glanced to her companions and nodded. Her truth spell had verified that the Drow believed the tale. She was skilled enough to know if his dark elven magics had interfered and he had made no casting.
"But what of your panther? She ran behind that carriage and vanished," The dwarf asked. Drizzt was not about to give up his secrets that quickly.
"She is…special. She comes when I call for her," he answered. It was clear to everyone that there was more to the story, but they let it drop.
"Lady Falconhand, what did you learn with your spells?" Fret asked, changing the subject after a moment of tense silence. He was eager to learn more and had been so since his training at Candlekeep so many years ago.
"They have a history of equal parts war and peace. They have seen horrors in their past beyond our comprehension. Creations that can destroy cities, diseases that kill thousands. But they have brilliant thinkers and writers. They praise the arts and sciences and at the same time mock them. They choose their leaders from amongst themselves in some places; in others they have lines of royalty going back thousands of years." She poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher. It was clear like nothing she had ever seen. "From what I read they are both the best and the worst people. Scholarship is praised in many forms, but there are countless conflicting views of a subject."
"But where are they from?"
"From no where on Toril," she replied to their lack of surprise. "They have a map of their world in the library. From what I could tell this city is known as Sunnydale and is barely more than a town in their world. They have cities which house tens of millions of people on their world." Drizzt was shocked. Even mighty Menzoberranzan had but ten thousand citizens and some twenty thousand slaves. "They also have wars that involve almost every country in the world." They were equally shocked by the concept of global war. "And they have put people on their moon without magic." If the past few days had not shown such wonders, they would have laughed a the concept of traveling to the Moonmaid's domain without the help of planar travel magic.
"So what do we do?" Gabriel said as he polished his sword.
"I want to meet with their leaders and discuss things. We should be on the best of terms with these people if they are planning on staying here," Dove said. "A place like this Sunnydale will be the target of friends and enemies, merchants and mercenaries. However, I feel my sister will want reassurance they will be a helpful people instead of hostile in the Silver Marches."
"So what is to become of me?" Drizzt said with some trepidation.
"Your kind is hated by many of this land. Wherever you roam, it will not be met with open arms," Kellindil said honestly. "Though I am willing to give you a chance to prove yourself, many others will not."
"I will find my place," Drizzt said simply. Had she been there, Willow would have given him props for his resolve face.
"So, Ms. Tendo, what did you do back on earth?" Joyce asked as they walked towards the university.
"I was the CFO of a large corporation and on the boards of four others," Nabiki replied. "They were all foreign companies with the exception of the construction company I owned in my home town. I didn't want to get caught up in one of the major conglomerates. They are almost always family owned and I was not about to marry for money."
"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but isn't that a little-"
"-Strange for a Japanese woman?" Nabiki asked with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. Joyce blushed a bit at the woman's frankness. "It is very strange according to many people in Japan. Just plain wrong by others. I had plenty of opportunities to marry for money: I am from an old and respected family and I am rather attractive (no shame in stating the truth). But it would not have been my money; I would have just been borrowing what belongs to someone else. I guess I have Ranma to thank for that."
"Your bother-in-law?"
"Lets just say, that despite his parents arguments otherwise, he made it perfectly clear that gender roles are not nearly as important as people think they are," Nabiki said with a laugh. "What about you?"
"Well, before we came here to Sunnydale last year, I was just your typical house wife from LA," Joyce said. She continued on, describing her divorce from Hank and the move to Sunnydale. "Now I run a gallery of works from all over the world. I suppose, I'll be getting them from all over this world if we keep going strong."
"This is not going to be easy," Nabiki said. "There is a massive amount of work to be done and perhaps not quite enough people to complete it in our lifetimes."
"True, but people are really pulling together," Joyce said, pointing towards the crowds moving to the university campus. "I am surprised. I would have thought there would be rioting and looting, but people want this to work. It's not easy, and I don't expect it to be, but it's easier than it could be."
"Those are dangerous words, Mrs. Summers."
"I've cursed us, haven't I?"
That night the various group leaders met back at Sunnydale City Hall. Each representative had a list of skills and information they had collected and most of them had little clue as what they should do with it. Colonel Hennessey was pleasantly surprised at the raw number of people who had come to the base that day. A number of people were no longer in the reserves, but had come back on because they were needed. He had a list of positions he needed to fill and a few ideas about the situation, but he was still not used to being the most senior officer of the Sunnydale Military. He looked around the table and noticed almost everyone was sitting in the same positions as before. The Scoobies, as he had been told they refer to themselves as, had mixed up their order a bit.
"So, Colonel, what do you have for us?"
"We have nearly 2,500 service men and women who signed up with us today, that brings our entire forces to just under 3000," the Colonel replied. He considered himself to be a cynical optimist, which, unlike the oxymoron it sounded like meant he always believed things would work out, but he always had a plan if they didn't. He sobered before continuing. "We lost three men last night with the dragon attack. I want to extend my thanks to Buffy for saving my teams last night with her quick thinking, we still have our Apaches because of you. But we need a better set up. We can't just have you running into danger without so much as a heads up."
"Actually, I called Giles and left Mom a note," Buffy said. "But I am the Slayer, it's what I do."
"And no matter what happens, or what Chose you, I do not like the fact that a sixteen year old girl is fighting a war," Colonel Hennessey replied. Joyce agreed that she didn't want her daughter constantly putting herself in danger. "However, I also, after last night, know that you won't stop even if I tell you."
"I'm seventeen," Buffy muttered under her breath.
"I can assure you, Colonel Hennessey, Buffy is the best at what she does," Giles said, sipping on a cup of tea.
"She is not an adult and she is not a soldier. She should not be in this," Walsh put in. Giles turned on her with a nasty glare. "She doesn't even know what she is doing."
"You are not qualified to understand the situation." It was a flat statement that made people notice the cool edge to his voice. "She is not the first to be in this situation, nor is she even the thousandth. She has a destiny cursed by fate. It is a simple fact that if she quits they will simply come after her. She is, as I have said, the best at what she does. She had survived things far beyond what a normal Slayer would have. She has saved this town and two worlds from destruction."
"But she-"
"I never said I was finished, now did I?" Giles needed someone to vent at and Walsh had just volunteered. "She did exactly what was needed to keep people alive. What do you think would have happened if she had not been there last night? That was rhetorical, don't answer that. More than one soldier would have died. Dragons are not simple creatures, but massively powerful beings. Without the four pronged attack I would not doubt that we would not be alive right now. None of us." Walsh gave him a glare that could have made paint peel off the walls. Giles never flinched.
"Now, now, you two," the Mayor wagged a finger at the two. "Let's not get too huffy here. Gosh darn it, I sure would like a team right now instead of a few factions. Let's see what Ms. Tendo has to say about the refugees. Ms. Nabiki Tendo is our new liaison to the cruise ships and is willing to work as a translator when necessary."
"Thank you Mayor," Nabiki Tendo stood up and looked at her note pad. "Of all the Japanese and Chinese speaking refugees about half are ready to revolt. After speaking with several of you, I have a proposition."
"Go ahead, I like forward thinking," the mayor grinned.
"I think we need to open both colleges as housing for the refugees," Nabiki Tendo said flatly. "People can only live in a cruise ship for so long before they need to walk out and about. We need to get at least half of the refugees out of there before something serious happens. There is the problem of the students still in campus housing. This is supposed to be nearly finals, if I understand the American university system correctly."
"I suggest also that temporary storage buildings be modified to act as temporary housing," the woman continued. "We have a large number of people who are willing to help build their own homes in the surrounding area, but a low number of people who actually have the skills to do so. We have some very experienced people from the Nerima Prefecture with plenty of construction experience due to the large amount of destruction that takes place there."
Most of the people stared at her like she was crazy. Oz just nodded in interest. The mayor was amused and Spike just shrugged. "Sounds like the place hasn't changed a bloody bit in forty years."
"Pulling this back to the topic of conversation: would these people be willing to help build the temporary buildings under direction of experienced laborers?" the mayor asked.
"I feel that a large number would," replied Nabiki.
"Good. Joyce, would you be willing to organize this with Ms. Tendo?"
Joyce Summers looked stunned at the mayor. Buffy gave her mother two thumbs up and a grin.
"I would love to," Joyce said.
"It's settled then. Please meet with the leaders of the ships this evening and tell us what you see by tomorrow," The mayor grinned and turned to the Scooby Gang. "Now, I'd like you guys to meet with the locals. We don't speak their language, but we might be able to find out some information about the surrounding area. Try and find out as much as you can."
"There are a few possible spells I could research, but they are usually used for earth or demon languages," Giles said, glancing at his notes. "They translate one language into another specific language.
Gathering up his papers as he stood, he nodded to the rest of the table. "We're making progress, but this isn't something we can just breeze through, people are accepting us for now, but that might not be the case in the near future. I am making each of you my special advisors, something like a cabinet. This gives you real power that you may use when necessary. Those who want to be on TV tonight, I'll be giving the nightly speech updating people to the situation. I've decided to do this every Tuesday night from now on," He tucked his notes under his arm and started towards the door. "Nine AM sharp people."
Buffy and company is owned by Joss W. and Mutant Enemy.
The Forgotten Realms and such are created and owned by Ed Greenwood and Wizards of the Coast and the various authors of the fiction.
Ranma 1/2 is owned by Rumiko Takahashi.
Thanks go to Janessa Ravenwood for editing this massive literary beast.