1632 Revello Drive
Six – The Seeds of Friendship
May 3, 1997 – Sunnydale, California
Cornelius liked to think he'd adjusted well to life in Sunnydale. He talked with his neighbors regularly, albeit small and meaningless talk but he still talked to them. Granted, he spoke to some of them more than others, but still. He even appreciated that a few of them knew that 'Charles Andrews' was a legal fiction. He was careful as hell with who he told that to. Though they found it funny that a man with such a refined, high society name as 'Cornelius' would choose 'Charles', apparently it was a commoner's name in the states. When did that happen? He checked his watch, few minutes yet.
The wizard went out nightly, even on school nights and slew at least one vampire at a rate of about every other evening. It wasn't much and it was both slow and dangerous due to his fragility but it helped. The town's evils permeated in ways that continued to unsettle him, though he had learned however slowly to work around its influence and slightly fewer people had mysteriously gone missing or god knew what else since he'd upped his efforts to help as opposed to simply blending in out of a sense of retirement from his previous usual life. He kind of figured he'd end up a monster hunter in retirement too, pity. He checked his watch again and got up to leave his home.
Running into Willow Rosenberg while his glamour was down a few weeks back was probably a mistake but nothing further had come of it, thankfully. The wizard was glad that he looked so different without his voluminous beard, being downright small in frame and presence, though his height remained.
He missed the fluffy tangled chain of hair, honestly. The world both felt and was a little colder without it, though he had to admit it was a lot easier to keep clean when it was short to his face like it currently was, to say nothing of the small fortune he saved in soaps and perfumes. He also probably looked better in the warm black that was his natural hair color, too, but he wasn't narcissistic enough to entertain the thought.
At least he hadn't been until his neighbors at 1630 had invited him to dinner, as Americans called it. He'd hesitantly accepted the invite and spent a few days preening to be as presentable as possible, an odd grip of vanity to be sure. Work/life balance was important but so was being neighborly.
It would've been a lie to say that Cornelius hadn't influenced things a little bit to make it where people remembered him without the glamour and to 'forget' all about his originally Gandalfian appearance. No one truly forgot, the wizard was neither powerful enough nor cruel enough to violate anyone's mind so thoroughly and if they thought hard enough about the quiet seemingly middle-aged man they'd recall his white beard. He was also pretty sure at least one of his students was a witch and could see through the glamour anyway.
So after a moment of walking, here he stood, outside the wooden door of 1630, which he was sure got replaced more often than not these days, wearing too nice a suit and holding a blue berry pie that still steamed just a touch. He was glad he'd been wise enough to grab an oven mitt to carry the quite hot glass baking dish that held it. The wizard raised his hand to knock, did so twice, and waited.
If more than a minute passed it was a trick of how time was perceived before the door was opened by a girl who both was and wasn't really there. Though some petty and cruel part of him wanted to he did not flinch instead opting for a small smile. "Hello, I believe your mother is expecting me."
"Yep, weird old guy from next door who mom likes. Come on in." Dawn Summers took after her father, he decided. If she had one. As with most children she also had no filter when it didn't fit her needs. He was old to be sure but he didn't look that old. Did he?
"Thank you." He bowed ever so slightly to be polite but Dawn rolled her eyes in response as she closed the door behind him and walked off. Oddly trusting girl, too.
Cornelius had been in many a house over the years, from the first insula he'd ever seen to the 'grand' palaces of barbarian warlords after the old empire fell. It never failed to impress him how American houses simply lacked entrance halls, even most of the very oldest ones.
Though he did admire the woodwork that made up the staircase that led upstairs before he stepped into the house proper where he was intercepted by Joyce Summers who bade him follow to the dining room where he was allowed to put his pie down.
"I'm glad you could make it," the matron of the house was one of his favorite neighbors, she kept to herself and ran the local art gallery. Sunnydale didn't have an art gallery before the Summers moved in and Cornelius was of the opinion that it added a touch of much needed culture to a place that was honestly depressing to inhabit.
They'd spoken on and off since Joyce and her daughters had moved in, Cornelius as a matter of course didn't work on the weekends and the two of them had worked up a bit of a rapport over the months. The wizard confidently considered her to be one of his friends. "Oh, it was no trouble, I enjoy our conversations." His tone was earnest and though he spoke softly he wasn't hard to hear. He was not in the practice of speaking loudly outside of a classroom setting, where it was occasionally needed. Yelling he reserved for his enemies and combat in general.
"Feel free to have a seat, we'll be ready in a few minutes." Joyce directed him to a chair before she stepped out of the room to yell 'girls!', the thundering approach of children followed as Buffy and her sister filed in. He was surprised that the former was there, he'd gotten used to seeing her sneak out in the evening with the subtly of a fish on land but he understood deeply the desire to be as normal as possible, though he hadn't been in a long while.
Buffy immediately glared daggers at him. He may have been her quiet neighbor, but he was also one of her teachers and that levied a sort of casual animosity. Understandable, really. Unbeknownst to him, Buffy knew.
The meal itself was quite good, a well seasoned roast duck with French beans and potatoes.
"I'm on to you." Buffy glared at him from across the table. Dawn tilted her head, Joyce set her fork down.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. You should eat your beans before they get cold." Cornelius poured a bit of gravy over his potatoes, words nonchalant in their delivery.
"You know exactly what I mean. Pass the gravy?"
"Certainly. And what do you propose to do about it?" He smiled sweetly, though he was sweating bullets.
"Eat my beans before they get cold." Buffy's own smile was similarly saccharine as she lifted her fork with performative purpose.
Cornelius was infinitely glad that her mother and sibling decided their glaring match was about school and he confirmed it when Joyce inquired, though it was about anything but. The remainder of the meal went well all considered with smaller talk and passing mention to Buffy's grades and attention in class as pertained to his subject matter. He flattered her mother by assuring her that her daughter was a model student, probably to Buffy's own mild frustration.
Cornelius lingered for an hour or so after the main meal so they could cut into his lightly enchanted pie so that it would remain warm, but not too hot. He actually was quite the excellent baker, practice makes perfect and he had nothing but time. They'd moved into the family room by then for a bit of television.
As the evening drew to a close the wizard stood along with his hostess and gave her a gentle smile; "Thank you again for inviting me, Mrs. Summers, I do hope I made for good company."
"By this point I think you can call me Joyce, and you were wonderful. Hopefully we can do this again sometime."
"Very well, I suppose it's only fair you call me Charles." He thought about letting the Summers familyknow,but figured there was a better time and place for that. Was it a lie to withhold things? Probably, but would they believe he was several millennia old and a magician? Probably not.
May 3, 1997 – Sunnydale, California
It was around one in the morning. He'd left all of his many watches at home after changing into a more subdued set of garbs and was telling time by the moon. It wasn't the most accurate method but was better than nothing.
Sunnydale's iconic gloom had settled over the town hours before, having reached its peak depth; the sky consumed by hues of purple and blue so dark they appeared black, separated by shafts of pale moonlight. The darkness of the night having settled firmly.
Cornelius isn't much for graveyards anymore either. Experimentation in years past away he could have certainly been found, shovel in hand no less. But it'd been over a thousand long years since those days.
A sound rustles somewhere in the overgrow bushes that seem to permeate in these places, he'd lost count of how many cemeteries that the town has, but then again their population fluxes at such a rate it makes sense.
The wizard gathered power in a hand, the subtle crackle of electricity that could easily be passed off as static if he so desired thrums angrily between his curled palm, the electric blue light casting deep, unnatural shadows over the landscape. A second passes and then another before the sound reveals its source.
"Told you I was on to you." Buffy Summers' black leather jacket stood out in silhouette against the darkness. She was armed of course, stake in one hand and a bit of religious symbolism in the other. Giles followed in her shadow, crossbow and paranoia at the ready.
Cornelius sighed and dissipated the lightning bolt he'd gathered before he struck the Slayer down, or more likely tried to. He didn't want to find out what lightning did to a sixteen year old whether or not they were special. "Ms. Summers, Doctor." He nodded to the librarian, who nodded in return though he remained suspicious, crossbow levied at his daytime colleague.
"So, you get some special kinda kick out of trying to hunt vampires or?" Buffy's stance was relaxed but from experience he could see that and still be terrified of someone a fraction of his age, and there were fewer cars to absorb the impact this time.
"How direct, young miss. As I said the first time we met, I've been hunting vampires since before you were born. Granted, the vampires I'm used to are a bit different."
"Oh?"
"The stake to the heart only immobilizes them. You have to cut off the head after that, and that's if they don't mind control you, or do all manner of other unnatural things unto you. I am not joking. I don't suppose the beheading thing works with these ones?"
"Haven't had the opportunity to try it yet... Giles?"
"Mister Andius is referring to homo sanguinus, a rather vicious form of vampire that's luckily very rare these days. So the stories go."
"Good to know." Buffy's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Who killed most of them, and where are the rest?"
"In order, Ms. Summers? The militant arm of the Ordo Praedicatorum, you would know them as the Dominicans, at the behest of the Papal See via the 'Holy' Inquisition, and I have no idea." Cornelius summoned lightning to his palm again, the way the wizard said 'holy' was even a bit amusing.
A rustle on the wind caught their collective attention, the distant padding of footfalls.
"So they have, what, soldiers?" Buffy tensed once more, stake at the ready as she prepared to pounce.
"They prefer to see themselves as Crusaders for their God, and they usually don't fight in the robes if they can avoid it. Those things are surprisingly difficult to wash when soaked in gore." The wizard's wry smile unnerved her but she could appreciate the sarcasm. "I don't suppose you have a way to sense vampires, young miss?"
Buffy stared at him before she pointed, "that way, try to keep up."
Giles offered him a somewhat sympathetic stare as he followed the teenager, the wizard not far behind him.
Their pursuit was both long and short. The streak of blue-white light that erupted from the wizard's palm shot past the schoolgirl with the grace of a diving falcon, scything through the night air with the scent of burnt plasma left in its wake that faded quickly.
The impact it had on the vampire brought the creature to its proverbial knees as it fell face first into the ground, skidding to a violent halt, smoking slightly but very much still undead.
"Good shot." Giles loosed a crossbow bolt pinning the vampire to the ground by its leg. Understandably, the demon screamed. Good to know these ones felt pain. The ones the wizard was used to did as well, but it took a great deal more effort. "Buffy, if you please," her Watcher didn't get to finish the rest of his sentence before the girl staked the vampire reducing it to ash.
"That almost takes the fun out of it." Buffy shook her head and tucked her stake away.
"Almost, eh?" Cornelius scooped a bit of the dust into a glass vial, Giles followed the action with his eyes, disapproving but saying nothing directly.
"Almost." Buffy repeated. "I think we're done here for the night." She stared at Giles who nodded.
The walk home was one of amicable silence between the wizard and the slayer. Buffy pointedly ignored him for the most part except when he rambled on about expecting her in class bright-eyed and bushy tailed in the morning, the audible groan the teenager released made the wizard grin madly. She bid Cornelius a biting 'good night' before they reached the street they lived on and they separated officially. Cornelius had offered to escort Giles, but his daytime colleague flashed his car keys and was probably already in bed by the time the wizard unlocked his door.
The door shut silently behind him, as always. The trip upstairs uneventful, yet he felt something odd as he collapsed into a chair next to his bed. He snapped his fingers, powerful defensive spells activating on cue, the house crackled with energy, had they have been turned on every bulb would've blown. The feeling passed.
From Buffy's window she couldn't see her neighbor's house light up like a Christmas tree for about ten seconds as its occupant scrubbed whatever evils had managed to nest there while he was gone from its walls and alcoves. Her own nightly rituals were simpler, she changed, collapsed into her bed and slept.
