Joyce Summers just felt shocked. "What do you mean, the art gallery is relocating?"

She needed to know this.

It was HARD to manage a place that wouldn't be HERE anymore!

The owner grunted. "New location is cheaper to rent and has more space."

But… But… "When are we transitioning? Will it be in phases or…"

He pushed a folder into her arms. "Info is in there, and apparently the new shopping center is having to transport so many people over that they bought out a small shipping company to organize it all. They will be showing up in two hours. Get this handled, I need to go check in on my other properties and make sure they are ready for this too."

Huh!? "WAIT!"

He walked off without pause. "You got my number Joyce, but I need to stay on top of this! There'll be a bonus for everyone since you got to deal with this mess out of nowhere… But we can NOT miss this chance! Something about this feels BIG Summers, and I will not be left out of it!"

And before she could squeeze a word in edgewise the asshole slammed his truck door shut and drove away.

That DICK!

Turning to her assistants she began walking back inside. "We're closing up today, apparently we are going to be VERY busy in a couple of hours. You girls double check our inventory. Charleene, begin securing our display pieces for transit."

Ignoring the 'Yes Joyce" and "Yes Mrs. Summers" going off in the background, she headed to her office with a metaphorically heavy folder of information in her grip.

Slumping unprofessionally into her chair, she opened the files and began examining them one by one.

The new location requirements, the approval order for moving the art, the design for a new secured back room for protecting the more expensive pieces that would not currently be on display… Ah, the actual shipping company information.

Dialing the contact information, she waited impatiently… "Yes, hello? This is the manager of 'Priceless Memories' art gallery over on… Oh, you heard of us? Yes, I was told fairly recently…" Seconds ago. "That we would be expecting the moving crew over in a couple of… Ah, yes. But I am not entirely sure we will have time to properly store… Are you sure? Does the order ticket actually have George's AGREEMENT concerning… Oh. And they are qualified to handle fragile and easily damaged cargo like… I see."

Calming breaths. "Then we will be prepared when they arrive."

She hung up and tried very hard to not have a panic attack.

Assurances or not, she would REFUSE to let amateurs package up the art exhibits! It was stressful enough trusting others to competently ship pieces of historical significance in the first place, but…

Calm.

There were still two hours or so to work with, and this was an all hands on deck situation.

With a confidence she didn't feel and motivated more by panic than purpose, she stood and headed into a warzone of packing and chaos.

They'd get this done. Somehow.

~~~Pocket System~~~

The two 'Bills' didn't so much 'Stalk the night' at this point as they were 'wandering confused in the night'. "Where did they go?"

His asshole of an acquaintance shrugged. "Fuck if I know. It's like half of fucking downtown just fucked off and said fuck it! I haven't seen a fucking good snack wander by in fucking hours!"

They walked past another 'We Just Moved!' sign in yet another store front. "It's too fast though, isn't it? There's only like a few stores left on this whole street!"

No stores meant no customers, no customers meant no idiots wandering where they shouldn't, no idiots meant no snacks! "We may have to shift territories."

The jerk snorted! "Fuck that! You know how fucking hard it is to fucking avoid the fucking Slayer in the first fucking place!? That fuck is everywhere man! And most of the fucking safe hunting grounds are already fucked by the king level fuckers, we ain't fucken with THEM we ain't!"

But there wasn't a bloody CHOICE now, was there!? "Then what do YOU want to do then, genius?"

Because this was going to be a problem.

The idiot squinted. "Well, if they all fucking moved fucking somewhere we should fuck over and see if anyone's fucking claimed the new zone yet! Get our fucking fangs into it before the fucking shits start swarming."

…Not a horrific plan, but he had already considered the idea earlier. "Pretty sure it's a trap. The area in town with this 'Doe Park' is a BAD territory, even the guys who can't publicly visit Willy's Place stay away from it."

The jerk spat at the ground. "Or that's what the fuckers WANT you to fucking think! I bet it's some fucker setting up another big fucking blood harvest farm or some fuck! When the Mayor cracks down on the fuckers, we just need to sweep up the scraps and fucking feast!"

Hmm. "If this is some sort of human roundup then Mayor Wilkins would probably step in to keep the Town stable…" Or at least, his people would. After all, anyone who wanted to live long in this town knew that you could drink the locals but NOT mess with the local economy or long term stability.

Not if you wanted to live without torture and madness.

Fangs were snarled! "Then when the Mayor fucks over the fuckers we can fuck right over to fuck the fucking FUCK out of the fucking blood bags! Easy as fuck!"

…WHY did he hunt with this asshole again? "Maybe."

And since these streets were empty right now ANYWAY… "Might as well go check out the place, just got to be subtle and keep an eye open. We see anyone too strong, we back out. But we don't make waves and we don't go in loud, understood?"

"Fucking pussy."

How charming.

~~~Pocket System~~~

Rupert Giles began cleaning his glasses. "Buffy, I do not believe your mother is joining a sex cult."

Buffy Anne Summers was pacing back and forth. "Sure, Xander says the place is probably on the up and up, but I've been looking around! Almost ALL the red light district is moving over there, plus half a dozen places I didn't even know existed!"

How did his life end up like this? Had he been too cruel in some earlier time? "This is a major community project, one which is opening its doors to NUMEROUS companies and businesses. Not only the more lavacious of business ventures, but almost everyone! Joining a sex cult is not a requirement for operating at Doe Park."

Although he had checked his personal collection to verify this wasn't being influenced by some sort of mystical effect or the setup for some enormous lust ritual or some such. Just in case.

None of these arguments convinced the young lady. "Guiles! This is MY MOM! I can't… I can't risk her!"

…Reasonable. "While I had planned on us moving in to have that arranged meeting with Mrs. Doe two days from now, we can adjust the time table." After all, his nonstop sleep deprived frantic research sessions had not thrown up any warning signs. It should be a safe venture.

In fact, it was the LACK of horrific portents and bloody prophecies that had Guiles acting so cautiously in the first place!

After all: New things in Sunnydale tended to equate to BAD things.

Buffy nodded, still tense. "Apparently it takes time to move all the stuff at mom's job because of how many small shops are involved in this mess, so we got to find out the evil plan NOW before she is working in the middle of a sex dungeon or something!"

Oh, for… "Again: Despite some of the 'adult oriented' companies joining the Doe Park initiative, as the Mayor is advertising it, nothing found about the location or the people organizing it has implied any cult activity. Sexual or otherwise."

Buffy gave him a LOOK. "Sex. Cult."

And of course, Xander walks in on that. "Are we doing that!?" And turned to young Ms. Rosenberg. "Wills, did I miss the 'Scooby Gang Sex Cult' meeting earlier? I feel like I would have remembered…"

Buffy strode over and smacked him on the head. "Shut UP Xander, this is serious! My mom is joining a SEX CULT!"

Xander gaped in shock. "Wow, Mrs. S? I just didn't see that coming."

And now Mrs. Rosenberg was locked into a blushing stuttering mess, the young Slayer was now inches away from going on a vengeful rampage, and Mr. Harris was having a mind warping opinion of reality redefined. This needed to stop! "THAT is not happening! None of it is happening! NO SEX CULTS FOR ANYONE!"

"Aww."

Willow Rosenberg suddenly realized EVERYONE was staring at her, 'Eeped', and tried to shrink herself out of existence.

…He needed some tea.

~~~Pocket System~~~

Jessica gave a weak smile. "Ah yes, our highly paid security staff do take pride in their acting talents."

The ditsy new stall owner hummed happily! "I've seen street performers before, you know. Like the ones that dress up as clowns or whatever… But I've only heard of those people who dress up like statues! I didn't expect the effect to be so realistic!"

Please shut up. "Did you need anything else for your stall?"

The woman waved her off. "Oh the new place is just lovely dear, not to mention how quickly your people were able to adjust my display counters to better show off my custom knitted dolls. Just look at little Mr. Mopsy and his family now! I'm sure they will all soon be swept off to a new home within the first day of opening, I have no doubt!"

Please, please stop talking. "Very good. Please inform security if you need future changes or alterations to the stall, your equipment, or the amenities provided. Now if you'll excuse me…"

She leaned against the counter, near more knitted toy creations. "And see here? Little Joanna and the family are all set up like they are having a tea party, but between you and me…" She glanced in either direction to assure information security. "...They are actually pretending to drink coffee! How scandalous!"

Yeah, no. "Hey, does this look like a pen to you?"

[[KSSH-Ween!]]

Jessica put the device away as the woman blinked in confusion. "We talked a bit longer about your products and you agreed to let me or my Security staff know if you have further questions or needs. Unfortunately you need to double check your hand made dolls and goods to ensure they are properly prepared for opening day, so you just told me that we'd talk later but you were about to be terribly busy."

She blinked. "Wha?"

Jessica nodded. "I perfectly understand ma'am. Have a good day."

And the woman smiled, growing more confident by the moment. "You too, young lady! Sorry that I have to cut this so short, but needs must!"

The older Doe sibling was already moving on from this headache. "Indeed."

This was the fifth time she had to use that trick today! Hopefully Mrs. Donnavan would calm down now that her new stall wasn't as isolated as her prior store location… Or at least, that she would choose a different target for her endless tales of knitted scandal within her community of self crafted dolls and creations.

Either way, a problem for another time. "A door to the unloading docks, please."

There it was, right where it had always been and wouldn't be later.

Opening the way and striding through, she glanced at the (Mostly) organized chaos within. "Any problems so far?"

The head of the 'Moving Assistent' iron golems began making hand gestures as he kept an eye on things.

Hmm. "We will keep following the new policy, to keep together anyone who can't tell you guys are made magically. I just finished checking in on that group again and I am pretty sure the town's 'Everything is Normal' effect only kicks in when the individuals can't handle understanding the actual situation."

Plus, it would be less annoying later on to only have to keep track of 'normies' in one area.

After all, everyone ELSE could see nearly nude iron people with living vegetation growing in their cracks and quickly determine 'Something is OFF here', but for THESE individuals?

Endless compartmentalism, excuses, and doublethink. 'Oh, they are actors!' 'No, it's just a prop.' 'That one is a real statue.' 'This one was just an effect of the light.' 'Iron people? What iron people? Oh those? Sorry, what were we talking about?'

It got old.

Fast.

Of the multitude of people being brought into Doe Park by the hour, a good CHUNK of them just… Couldn't connect certain facts. Period. Regardless of the evidence provided or seen.

Had they lived here too long?

Was it a self defense mechanism?

No idea.

But it was frustrating as HELL to interact with them.

So… Best group them together so they could mostly be avoided by the rest of the park's visitors.

…Although it did feel a bit humorous to see an old grumpy man ranting with an old grumpy demon about how young people didn't understand the difficulties of life and all that. Especially considering both the old man and the VERY old demon didn't seem to notice their conversation partner didn't match their own species.

Well, whatever. "Are we still on track to finish moving most of them by this weekend? Still on schedule?"

A nod and a thumbs up was clear enough. "Good. Now…"

Mental checklist: New stalls mostly accommodated, layout adjusted a few times, two meetings in a few hours, next was… Oh.

Damn it. "Now I have to check in on the Underpark and see how they are moving in."

And she'd have to make it a SHORT visit, which was just long enough to be severely tempting but not NEARLY long enough to actually get anything 'satisfying' accomplished in that region.

The iron man smirked, because of COURSE her issues were considered hilarious amongst the Security teams. "Oh hush you! I can do the rounds quickly and professionally this time, you just wait and see!"

The smirk didn't even budge.

Iron know-it-all. "Let me know if any issues pop up while I'm gone."

…She hesitated.

The smirk grew wider.

Jerk. "Yes, if I don't return in twenty minutes ask John to remind me about my schedule. Not that he will need to! Because I got this. I DO!"

She totally did! Jessica Doe was a mature and powerful woman with self control and restraint!