In a small office in the basement of an old building in London, Charles Farnesworth began sorting thought the latest batch of American Watcher dispatches. Field Watchers were supposed to send reports to Headquarters on a monthly or at least quarterly basis, depending on just how far afield they were, and then someone had to sort through those dispatches to pass on anything necessary or important. This tedious task was often left to those who were too injured for the field and not politically powerful enough to rise in the hierarchy, too new to have any experience, or too clumsy to trust in an area with weapons.
Tedious as these dispatches might be, they helped track demonic migration routes, power struggles among demon clans and vampire families, and the odd prophet. Sometimes they also uncovered new Potentials or could be the first clue that a new Slayer had been called. Dispatches from the Watcher of an actual Slayer were sent to a different office, one that carried a bit more prestige.
Maerrecholiths swarming near Bermuda… they did seek warm waters on a multi-year breeding cycle to spawn. He wasn't quite certain when or where the actual mating occurred, but groups of them sought warm waters to spawn in cycles of five, seven or ten years. There was a theory that these spawning runs had some connection to boats disappearing in the Bermuda region, but that wouldn't explain the aircraft…
Vampires in Louisiana and Georgia having alligator fights for the amusement of the local demon underworld. How charmingly brutal.
Possible demon turtle in North Carolina. Confirmed presence of a Potential, with the local Watcher beginning her into some training. Excellent work, though that one was getting a bit old, perhaps it would be wise to send a younger Watcher to that area soon?
Emotion controlling demons in northern Virginia and the DC area meddling with politicians. Confirmation of the presence of a branch of Wolfram & Hart, a law firm with demonic connections. A maybe-Potential hired as an aide to a senator. A confirmed Potential still uncalled at twenty three, now engaged to a minor mage. An attempt by a pair of vampires to break into the Smithsonian foiled by local security. Another request to investigate rumors of ghosts at Arlington National Cemetery…
Fyarl demons and vampires being used as low level thugs and brute force by organized crime in New Jersey. A trio of part-demon cousins seeking a musical career, with the downside being that one of them was part succubus and left her fan-boys in the hospital. Another one of those wretched houses where humans let vampires feed from them for some sort of perverse pleasure…
From Boston, there was a possible sighting of an Ik'Tarin demon in the sewer system. Demon rats confirmed in the sewers, but as they seemed to have a taste for carrion and vampires, they were judged of interest but not a large threat. A five year old girl hit a bully at her kindergarten and the bully had a broken rib… a possible Potential? One of the field Watchers had pictures of a young blond woman, someone that he said had displayed unusual strength, and there was a picture enclosed, with the request to compare to known potentials. Another had written that Jeremy Claybourne, one of the quieter field Watchers had been placed into an asylum, babbling about monsters and demanding that the Slayer or the Girl go fight them.
Oh dear. While he could think of several explanations for Claybourne to snap, in the end, the 'why' was less important. It was going to be a problem. It could be some sort of previously concealed mental instability. It could also have been the result of some sort of magical or demonic attack. Regardless, Claybourne would need to be treated or silenced.
Picking up the letters with the report on Jeremy Claybourne and the one that held the picture of the reportedly strong blond, Charles Farnesworth decide to go talk to Victoria Sutton. She'd been a brilliant field Watcher until a combination of injury and age had left her no longer suitable for the demands of the position. Even today, the woman's mind was as sharp as a sword, even if she did have very thick glasses and hobble about with a cane. Though if he was doing as well at eighty, he'd be very thankful…
It was a short walk down the hall to the elevator, which he took to the ground level. While Ms. Sutton was not on the top level of the Council, she was from an old Watcher line, had found seventeen Potentials, trained three Slayers, and had slain several demons and vampires by her own efforts. In fact, it was supposed to be an injury from one of those demons that forced her to start using a cane. All of that combined to give her a quiet office on the ground floor, with a window showing a small garden.
"Ms. Sutton? I was hoping to ask for your advice before I pass on my summary of the field Watcher reports," he didn't raise his voice. The woman might be old, but there was nothing wrong with her ears.
"I have a fresh pot of tea," she replied. It wasn't quite an invitation, despite the feeble sunlight entering her window.
"A cup would be lovely," he smiled as he entered the little office. Settling in the second chair, he waited until he had a cup of tea, took a sip and complimented the brew, "A nice strong cup. This would be good for long nights at the books."
After a few more pleasantries, he pulled out the envelopes. "One of the field Watchers in Boston, over in America, has… either snapped out of his mind and started babbling about demons and Slayers or suffered some sort of attack against his mind."
"Has he influential relatives? Perhaps there is a history of useful reports and personal efforts to remove some of the local demons?" Ms. Sutton's questions were calm, focused on the larger scale than one babbling Watcher.
"Neither. In fact, his reports tend to be long winded, rambling, and seldom provide anything of use," Charles admitted.
"Then it might be simplest to send someone to eliminate him," she sighed. "What do they teach them anymore?"
"There was one other matter. A young woman reported with unusual strength…" he passed the picture over to Ms. Sutton.
For a long moment, she looked at the picture. Carefully, she sat her cup of tea down, and traced over the woman's face. "This is Buffy Summers, the current Slayer. Travers was attempting to send her to Sunnydale, California."
"The letter is postmarked from Boston, Massachusetts. That tends to suggest that she didn't go to Sunnydale…" Charles Farnesworth offered.
"Quite," her smile was almost as sharp as a vampire's. "We shall have to tell Travers that his missing Slayer has been found. Someone else can get a more precise location now that you can tell him what city to search."
"He seems to focus more on the political aspects than on his duties," Charles murmured.
"If it takes too long for her to be found, or if things go badly at Sunnydale after he swore that he had everything under control, then there might be a new Chair of the Council."
"A very good point…"
End part 28.
Joyce tried to conceal her worry as Buffy left with the people that Emma had found. They were going to go hunting monsters. Her daughter was going hunting for monsters, accompanied by a man who could breathe fire and a pink haired woman with super strength and a fondness for eighties pop music and sequins. Between the three of them, they had a small arsenal, though the most modern weapon Buffy carried was a crossbow, along with a couple knives, an axe, and some sharpened bits of wood.
"Ash has considerable skill at fighting, though it isn't anything approaching a formal style with rules. Combine that with his ability to breathe out fire, and he doesn't need to worry about vampires and he can help keep Buffy safer. Despite her musical hobby, Jem is far more dangerous than she looks," Emma whispered into Joyce's mind.
"She'd about have to be," Joyce scowled. "She looks like someone made a costume from a cartoon character."
Emma chuckled before commenting, "She can bend iron bars, bench press six hundred pounds, and is as flexible as a professional acrobat. There's also the fact that her skin is damage resistant and has a crystalline component to make it naturally sparkle…"
"She's strong, she's fast, she sparkles and sings…" Joyce shook her head. "That really sounds like some sort of cartoon character. The sort of cartoon where problems are solved within twenty minutes and there's a trite little saying about making life better before everyone hugs…"
"It makes people underestimate her, which helps her defeat them. She does have a bit of a fascination with cartoons… But then, everyone needs a hobby," Emma shrugged.
Joyce considered that carefully. A hobby… watching cartoons and singing eighties pop music. "It could be worse. She could be spying on teenagers in their locker rooms at school."
"Very true," Emma agreed.
Joyce managed to stay mostly quiet until Buffy, Jem and Ash had left. Buffy hunting for monsters was dangerous enough, even well armed and in the company of people that Emma swore would help keep her safe. Causing Buffy to go out knowing that her mother was worried about seeing her maimed or dead and was fretting and fussing out loud… that could only make things worse. It would be far better if Buffy thought that Joyce was confident that with the weapons and backup, Buffy would be as safe and fine as Buffy had insisted she would be.
Once she could no longer see the van that they were using, Joyce sighed. She still didn't want to fret and fuss and collapse into a near-hysterical heap. If there was something else that she could focus on instead, then that would help stave off the worry and dread. "Do you have those reports from the investigators on the people that Claybourne as associating with? Now might be a good time to look over some of them."
"To keep you from worrying too much about Buffy?" Emma looked at Joyce before continuing, "I have some reports. They don't cover everyone, and they aren't enough to form a well educated opinion on the people, but it might help you."
"Fair enough, except for one point. This is my fifteen year old daughter going out to fight monsters. I'm worrying just enough about her."
Emma looked like she was going to say something else, but sighed, her shoulders slumping forwards a tiny amount, "I suppose that does change things. My mother wouldn't have worried if it had been me going out to fight. She might not have even noticed, and not because of the size of the family home. Neither of my parents cared the way that you do."
"Then we'll have to be better parents than they were," Joyce whispered, her hand catching Emma's arm.
Joyce walked with Emma to her office, savoring the feeling of Emma's skin beneath her hand. Of having someone to help her, not from any lack of faith in her abilities but from concern and compassion and the desire to be with her. It didn't make this any less disturbing, but she didn't have to fight Emma to get things accomplished, to have the energy and time for her job, to take care of her daughters. She didn't need to cater to Emma's ego and indulge her whims. Though it did occur to her that finding out a few of Emma's whims could be very interesting. She recalled something about whipped cream and strawberries back when they were in college…
"The first report was on Claybourne's apartment manager, with shorter bits about his neighbors. Apart from some pictures of the apartment manager with a very flexible woman who's clearly a natural redhead, there's nothing on the manager to take up our time. The neighbors had minimal contact with Claybourne, and while a few have been lying to immigration and the residents of number 347 appear to be in a rather interesting three way arrangement, there's nothing to connect the neighbors to this Council or to suggest that they have an interest in Buffy. Though there was a sex offender record on someone the next floor down…" Emma lifted the folder and dropped it to the other side of the desk.
"Why do we have reports on the manager and neighbors sex lives?" Joyce asked, her fingers hovering near the folder.
"That is the most common thing for private investigators to be called in about. Suspected affairs, runaway children, and hidden assets for divorce cases…" Shaking her head, Emma gave Joyce a crooked smirk. "As long as they also get the information that I do want, I just ignore their tangents into the various sex lives. Once in a while they have interesting suggestions, but most of the time it's just more of the same."
"That must give them a rather unimpressive opinion of people," Joyce murmured.
"Next report is on a fellow named Phillip Mooreland. He's not quite as easily categorized," Emma handed Joyce the next file, this one with a Polaroid photograph paper-clipped to the front. The photo showed a man with a remarkable resemblance to David Bowie, though without the same flamboyant and distinctive wardrobe.
Joyce smiled at the picture, unable to stop herself from asking, "I wonder if he sings?"
Emma chuckled, "According to the investigator, he doesn't. We aren't certain if that's by choice or from a pure lack of skill. I'm wondering how he'd look with longer, uneven hair and tights."
Joyce tried not to laugh as she opened the report. "I doubt that he's the goblin king. Though he might not look bad in tights… which is completely off the subject."
According to the file, Phillip Mooreland was British, here on a work visa. He had an almost full time job at an organic food store, and lived alone in a small apartment. No current lovers, not dating anyone, and not in contact with anyone identified as a previous lover. He took a yoga class on Tuesdays, and met with some sort of language group on Thursdays over at a university. No car, no traffic violations. He did have a habit of taking long walks, sometimes into odd areas, like along the harbor, or through questionable parts of town, though he never seemed to be meeting anyone on these walks. He'd met with Claybourne a few days before Emma had caused Claybourne's confinement, and they had clearly known each other.
Joyce frowned, considering those walks. If he wasn't meeting anyone, then it wasn't an affair, and he wasn't dropping things off or picking them up then it wasn't some sort of drug transportation. British. Knew Claybourne. Studied foreign languages. Walking around the area… "I think we found another Watcher."
"You may be right. We'd best find out a bit more about him. If he's already in the area, he's a better choice to approach us than them sending someone over from their headquarters. He might be someone that we can work with," Emma agreed.
Joyce nodded, hoping that things went well for Buffy and her patrolling. That this Phillip Mooreland was someone reasonable. That Dawn would continue to stay out of trouble. That life would continue to be better than Los Angeles.
End part 29.