Is there ANYONE reading this?

Chapter Eighteen
"Home Alone"

By the time Buffy and Tom walked into Vin and Sophie's house, it was later in the day than they realized—they might have wandered a bit, because...why not?—and the sisters were nowhere to be found. There was a note telling Buffy not to wait up. Buffy snorted and handed the missive to Tom.

"They've gone out again," she said.

"I wonder where they go at night," Tom said as he read the note. It was short and sweet—and gave next to no valuable information. If there was an emergency, there'd be little chance that Buffy would be able to find them. This worried him. Though why, he didn't know. Buffy Summers was more than capable of handling herself—and anyone else who came along.

Buffy shrugged. "Who knows. Some sort of nightclub, I'm guessing. Drinking, music, dancing. Seems to be their thing. I've yet to spend an evening with them when alcohol wasn't involved." She laughed. "Do nightclubs even exist in this time?" she asked, thinking about the fun she could have if she were able to get into one of those. Not for drinking, mind. But she'd gladly get on a dance floor if there was some decent music playing.

Smiling, Tom nodded. "Yes. Dance halls are very popular," he said. "There are several underground nightclubs. And restaurants. They've become quite fashionable. The Muggles consider them safe. They aren't though. Last year a bomb fell through the floor of Café de Paris and killed a bunch of them. I read that most of the band died with the first bomb. Then a second one landed and most of the dancers were killed too.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Wow!"

"I suspect that Vin and Sophie are going to places like this."

Buffy frowned. "Doesn't sound very safe to me."

Tom shrugged. "Last year was worse. It's been quiet in London this year."

"That's something," Buffy said, thinking about the dangers these people faced everyday. She couldn't even imagine the horrors. Well, she could, but for her they were different horrors.

Tom smirked at the expression on her face. He could tell she was mulling over the insanity that the Muggles were living through. "People need things to do."

Buffy hummed. "I suppose."

"And it's dangerous to stay home too," Tom said. "Bombs can drop on houses just as easily as the dance halls."

"That's true." Buffy sighed.

"So. They just leave you here all alone," Tom stated quietly as he looked around the empty room. Other than the two of them talking, it was silent in the house. No clanking pipes. No clocks ticking. Not even the skittering of creatures that may have gotten inside. Nothing.

Buffy focused on Tom, then shrugged. "I really don't mind. I'm used to it, actually. My mom's often busy with her art gallery and my dad's... not around. He's very ab-sen-tee. Mom cares, but she works a lot and doesn't always know what's the what, you know? This one time, I was going to try out for cheerleading squad at school, but there was this supernatural accident at school where this witch and her witchy daughter switched bodies and...well, never mind. We settled it without beheading anyone." She laughed. "Anyway, mom had no clue what I was trying out for. Totally doesn't pay attention." She laughed again. "And anyway, I'm usually out with friends or busy patrolling. Or trying to figure out the next big bad with Giles, because there's always a new baddie for me to vanquish."

Tom blinked at all the information Buffy had thrown at him. He knew she was speaking English, but sometimes—like now—it seemed like all her words were mixed, forming something else that he could only refer to as Buffy speak. It took him a few moments to decipher what she'd said.

"Witches?" he queried—his question as succinct as hers was long-winded.

Buffy nodded. "Long story short. Mom witch didn't like getting older and resented daughter witch's youth. So she used magic to trade bodies and caused a whole lot of trouble."

Tom nodded. "I see," he said, not sure if he actually did. Switch bodies? Interesting.

"Anyway. I don't mind being here alone. I'm used to it. Gives me the time to think in peace."

"But you don't live in the middle of a war," Tom said with a frown.

"True...to a point," Buffy said. "My life is war-like too though. With all the monsters I have to face."

Tom frowned. "I see your point."

Buffy sighed.

"So, the Giles you spoke of, he's your..." Tom prompted. "What did you call him?"

"Watcher," Buffy responded quickly. "He's the librarian at my school, but that's just his cover. I mean, he is the librarian, for all intents and purposes. He's totally research guy. Always knows the baddies...who they are, what they want, how to kill them. Or he can find out about them if he doesn't know. His research material is massive. Let's just say he's good with the books! And he has the connections. Even if it's the Watchers Council." She grimaced. "Plus, he helps me train."

Tom frowned again. "Train?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. You know. To be prepared to fight?"

"And that's necessary?"

"Well, I'm naturally good at it, but yeah, I have to keep working on it so I don't get rusty."

Tom nodded. "You are good," he said.

"Thanks!" She grinned.

"A little glib about it though, don't you think?"

Buffy shrugged. "If I didn't make it entertaining, I'd go insane."

Tom frowned. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. It's just...you could be killed at any moment."

"Your lack of confidence in me is a little insulting," she said—with a smirk.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, not knowing what else to say—then realized she was
teasing him. "You're not really upset are you?"

"Not at all," she said with a smile.

Tom sighed with relief—but wondered how this girl had managed to get inside him and twist him up. It felt like she'd turned him into a completely different person. One of those soft and sappy individuals that he usually loathed—and he hated it!

"And I could be," she said.

"What?"

"Killed," she said. "I will be. At some point or another. As I've said, slayers don't live long."

Buffy stopped talking. She could see the moment that Tom started to panic again.

"Um. Do you want some tea?" she asked as a distraction.

The dark-eyed boy frowned. "What?" he said again. "Oh. Yes, tea would be nice."

Buffy grinned. "Let's hit the kitchen then...and see if we can rustle up some snacks," she said as she started for the door.

~oOo~

"Do you think you will allow one of the Giles here to help you train?" Tom asked.

They'd fixed their tea—which Buffy was still trying to get used to—and had gone upstairs to the room just over the kitchen. Buffy had yet to use this room. It was small and semi-dark, with a couch and a chair and wall to wall bookcases—and lots of books! There was even a little outside area with a small wrought iron table and chairs bistro set. Buffy might have wanted to sit out there, but it appeared to be drizzling. This was so different than hot and sunny—DRY—California, she thought.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm not sure," she said as she plopped down on the couch and sipped her tea. "I probably should. Though, with any hope it wouldn't be Edna."

Tom grimaced. He understood her lack of desire to spend time with the woman—she was bossy, condescending, and extremely rude—but he especially didn't like the idea of Buffy training if it meant she'd spend time with Edmund Giles.

"But...you know...Professor Dumb-dumb said I don't have to let them bother me anymore, so..." She stopped talking and watched Tom. He appeared to be brooding again. In that way, he was exactly like Angel—but she definitely wasn't going to tell him that.

But Tom couldn't help snickering at her name for Professor Dumbledore. The way she butchered the English language could sometimes be frustrating, but he found amusement in it as well. He'd never met anyone who rambled on the way Buffy did.

"Wouldn't it be helpful for you?" he asked, trying to be serious. "Training would stop you from becoming rusty?"

Buffy shrugged. "In theory. For sure." She nodded.

"Then you should do it," he said, trying not to allow his growing frustration into his tone. "Just because Dumbledore said you don't have to allow them to use you for their purposes, doesn't mean you can't use them if you feel the need to train." He frowned at himself. Why in Salazar's name was he encouraging her to spend time with one or more of the Giles' family when all he really wanted to do was to monopolize her time completely.

"Maybe," she said with a noncommital shrug—then changed the subject before he could go all dark and dismal on her again. "Hey. What do you do for fun?"

"Fun?" he repeated.

Buffy cocked her head. "Yeah, you know, stuff that's not Hogwarts schoolwork or chores at Wools. What does Tom Riddle like to do?"

Tom shook his head. "I mostly spend my free time reading. There are a lot of books at Wools. Although I've read all of the ones we have, Mrs Cole occasionally brings us a fresh batch of secondhand books. When there's nothing new to read, I reread the ones I liked once more."

Buffy frowned. "Oh. Hmm. I'm not huge on reading."

Tom looked down at his cup of tea. "I don't have much else to do, Buffy," he admitted quietly.

She blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"What do you do?" he asked, cutting her off. "Other than vampire hunting or seeing your friends."

"Oh. Well, sometimes I talk on the phone...with my friends. Or go shopping with my friends. Or...watch TV. And there's music," she said.

"I've never watched television," he said with a frown. "There isn't one where I live and...well, broadcasting has been suspended for the duration of the war anyway, so..."

"Really? Wow!"

"I heard one of the Muggles say the government is afraid the signals will help the German bombers," Tom said with a shrug—then added, "not that there's been any bombing as of late."

"Oh. Hmm. That makes sense, I guess."

Then she gasped. "We should go to the movies! Are there movie theaters open here?"

Tom smiled at her obvious excitement. "There are cinemas, but..." How could he tell her that he couldn't afford to take her to see a film?

"We need to go then!" she burst. "Tomorrow I'll ask Vin and Sophie for some money."

Tom frowned. It was like she'd read his mind. How did she do that? "I don't know," he said, very unsure about someone paying for him.

She looked at him. "Please?"

Tom couldn't help snickering at Buffy's near-begging tone and pouty lip. It was a good look on her. "Maybe."

She grinned, as if he'd promised to do anything she wanted.

"Maybe tomorrow we can check to see what's showing," he relented with a sigh. He wouldn't completely commit, but he knew that she'd win if she pushed.

Buffy nodded enthusiastically.

"So, what's the music like in your time?" he asked.

"Hmm. There's a lot of different types. It's all very...different than the music of this time," she said. "At my old school, Hemery, we had themed dances. One time we did the 40s.

"I noticed that Vin and Sophie have a phonograph, we should look to see if they have anything to play on it."

Buffy's eyes lit up. "Really? That's a great idea! I didn't notice it anywhere. Where is this record player?" she asked.

"In the lounge on this floor," he said with a gesture toward the room. "I noticed it in the far corner, next to the cabinet that's against the wall when you first walk into the room. It's an upright baby grand."

Buffy grinned and stood up. "Let's go check it out!"

Getting to his feet, Tom followed.

~oOo~

"Do you know how to work this thing?" Buffy asked with a frown. She'd lifted the top and was fiddling with the old time record player, but it didn't look like she'd imagined it would—not at all like the pictures she'd seen. This thing was more a piece of furniture than with a record player in it than what she'd expected.

Standing next to Buffy, Tom shrugged. "I've never used one before, but it can't be too difficult. Mrs Cole has one in her study at Wools and I've occasionally heard it playing. Hers is different than this. Smaller. It sits on a table in the corner of her office. But...I think I can manage this," he said, frowning at the Muggle device.

Crouching down, Buffy opened the cabinet below and found records. Vin and Sophie had a ton of them! "Look at this!" she nearly squealed. "Records galore!" She pulled out a stack and took them over to the couch.

Flipping through them, Buffy frowned again. "I've never heard of any of these," she said.

"Let me see," said Tom. He'd sat down beside her and leaned in. "I've heard of Jack Hylton," he said when he was halfway through the stack.

"Okay. Put that on," Buffy said, handing the album to him.

Tom took it and stood up and went to the phonograph. After a couple minutes he'd figured out the Muggle contraption—it hadn't been difficult at all.

"This is more the 30s, I think," Tom said when it started to play. He turned over the album cover and started to read it.

Buffy shrugged. "Whatever. It's not like I know any of this stuff."

As she listened, she kept going through the records, tapping her foot to what was playing. "Does anything else sound familiar to you?" she asked, tilting the pile toward the boy.

Tom shook his head. "Not really."

"You spend a lot of time alone, don't you?"

Tom nodded his head. "I told you I don't have friends. The children at Wools are awful."

Buffy snorted. "You don't even try, Tom."

He scowled at her. "I don't want Muggle friends, Buffy," he snapped.

"Gawd, don't get haughty with me!" she snapped back.

Tom sighed and fought to calm himself. "I do apologize."

Buffy watched him. "You make people sound like a disease."

He shrugged. "Muggles are...beneath us. I don't like them."

Buffy huffed. "That's a horrible attitude."

"It is what it is," he said, looking down and pretending to study the album in Buffy's hands.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy stared at him. "That's total bullshit! I have friends who are non-magical and...I adore them!" she said, but looked down at the album too, not wanting to argue with her only friend here. "Oh! Look! I know who Fred Astaire is," she said, setting the record aside. "His movies are iconic. Classics, in my time."

Despite their almost argument, Tom smiled. It seemed odd to hear her say that about things that hadn't happened yet.

"How do you suppose Vin and Sophie got all of these?" Buffy asked.

Tom shrugged. "Same as everyone else who owns them, they bought them."

Buffy hummed.

"They have the means," he went on. "Almost anything can be attained with wealth."

Buffy frowned. "I suppose that's true," she said. "I have a stack of CDs at home."

"What's a CD?" he asked.

"Oh. It stands for compact disc and they're...similar to these," she said, placing her hands on the album cover on her lap—then lifting them up and making a circle of about five inches in diameter for him to see. "But smaller. And you can't play them on a record player. You need an electrical device that reads them, with a laser...or something. I'm not 100% sure."

Tom nodded though he wasn't sure he really understood. "And you have these CDs at home?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Mom buys me a lot of stuff...clothes, shoes, music. I think it's to make up for being gone a lot."

Again Tom was thinking that at least she had a mother in her life. But he didn't say it because, at the moment, Buffy Summers was just as motherless as he was. Instead, he reached out and picked up one of the Fred Astaire albums and got up to put it on.

~oOo~

After several hours later, and having listened to a pile records, the doorbell chimed—causing both Buffy and Tom to freeze.

"Do you think someone's complaining about the music?" she asked. It was going on midnight and they hadn't kept the noise down. In fact, they'd turned it up several times when songs they particularly liked were playing.

Tom shrugged. "Possibly. I mean, it's not Vin and Sophie."

"Obviously," Buffy said. "It could be Dumbledore again."

"I doubt it," said Tom. "I think he will owl first this time. Maybe Edna again, if not an irritated neighbor."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "God, I hope not! She's positively awful!"

Tom chuckled. "I suppose we won't know unless we go check."

"We could just ignore it," Buffy suggested.

Tom nodded. He liked that idea.

But Buffy sighed. "That would be rude though," she decided as she moved to get up.

No sooner were they on their feet and out on the landing to go downstairs when they heard the front door open and then close soundly.

"Hello!" someone called out. "Is anyone home?"

Buffy and Tom glanced at each other and mouthed, "Edmund."

Grinning, Buffy started down the stairs quickly—not noticing the scowl on Tom's face as he followed her more slowly.