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Chapter Text

First Meeting

Part I in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Prologue: A Late Rescue

Pasadena, California – Monday, June 3, 1996

Charlie's P.O.V.

Charlie frowned as he looked out at the three pre-teenage girls that were hovering anxiously outside on the doorstep. A strong part of him didn't want to help them, but he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why. They were just three little girls looking for help. After another moment’s hesitation, Charlie gave into their wide, desperate eyes and sighed, shaking his head and – wanting more than anything to get back to the math problem he’d been working on when the doorbell rang – he waived them in. “Yeah, I guess you can use the phone. It’s right through here,” he told them, turning to lead the way into the kitchen.

"We can come in?" one of the cheerleaders' asked, making him turn back to blink at them.

"Yeah, to use the phone," Charlie confirmed, wondering what social nuance he was missing here. He didn't even ask his family about that sort of thing anymore, because most of the time a lot of it didn't make sense even after they tried to explain. And he was still trying to process why it felt so wrong to help these three harmless looking girls...

Not a full second later he was bowled over with a force like that of a freight train, blown clean off his feet and headfirst into the floor as slender arms warped around his shoulders like steel bands and heaved him further into the house, over to the stairs.

“Hungry, are we, Clair?” one of the girls asked with a laugh.

Her voice was different from before though, deeper... it almost sounded like she actually growled the words.

“May I, Sire?” the girl asked, and her voice had also changed to that deep, growling tone. She easily kept him pinned against the wall even as he came out of his shock and started to struggle.

Charlie's struggles grew more desperate, but the girl’s grip was unbreakable, brutally bruising and devastating in her unbelievable strength. He managed to tilt his head back enough to look at the other two girls and was horrified at what he saw.

Gone were the pretty faces of two young teenagers with long, platinum blonde hair and wide, worried blue eyes. Now their eyes were a dark, orange-yellow color; both eager and blank; wild, like an animal’s, and set under formerly smooth foreheads that had become strangely ridged. Their lip-gloss covered lips had pulled back to reveal pointed teeth that were set in wicked, zealous grins as both girls let out harsh, grating laughs.

“Enjoy,” the first girl replied with a smirk to Clair’s question before joining the other—creature?—in looking around the room. They were slipping some of the nearby valuables into the bag that hung from their shoulders as they went, but that hardly seemed to matter next Charlie's mounting terror and disbelief at the fact that he could not escape the one holding him.

One of Clair’s arms moved slightly higher but the one that remained about his chest and shoulders still held him firmly in place with ease as she just as easily forced him to tilt his head back and slightly to the side and started to place quick kisses along his neck.

Charlie flinched, but even that little movement didn't work in her grasp. No matter how hard he struggled he couldn't even moving his neck away from her slopping kisses moving over his skin almost as though she was searching for something. Desperate terror surged through his body as Charlie choked out, “Please, don’t—”

But he was cut off by his own shout of agony as she bit down hard, sending an excruciatingly sharp burst of pain through his body that continued to throb as she started to suck at his throat, greedily sucking his lifeblood out of his veins.

Each jerky motion he made to try to escape was easily overpowered by the smaller figure’s slight grip and sent waves of agony crashing through his body even as his strength rapidly waned and his vision started to darken...

Buffy's P.O.V.

Buffy sighed as she made her way through the dark streets. She’d gotten off her shift at the diner just a little while ago, around midnight. But she couldn’t sleep. Again. Much as she wanted to escape Slayerhood, it was well and truly a part of her now; a part that wouldn’t be ignored. So here she was, wandering around after one o’clock in the morning. She wasn’t sure what her Slayer senses were drawing her to. She wasn’t even in the real city anymore. She’d entered the suburbs—‘Pasadena’ according to the welcoming sign—several minutes ago.

As she turned onto another residential street her eyes sharpened in response to the familiar surge of adrenaline her slay-sense sent through her system while her ears – also suddenly hyper-sensitive – picked up sounds of a struggle not too far down the street.

With another sigh she took off towards the problem, easily closing the distance to the house the noise was coming from in just a few seconds.

There were three vamps there, two of them very young fledglings and the third their not much older Sire. None of them noticed her arrival, as one of the fledglings and the Sire were too focused on rummaging through the living room while the other fledgling fed on the teenage boy that lived there, having apparently given the three an invite into his home. To be fair, not knowing the three were vampires, the boy probably couldn’t have imagined that he’d have anything to fear from the three girls that all looked younger than him and were dressed up as cheerleaders to boot!

Seeing the boy’s rapidly paling skin and weakening struggles, Buffy didn’t even stop to snark at the three undead blondes, instead coming up behind the Sire to quickly stake her from behind and throwing her stake at the other fledgling as she spun towards the sound of the slamming front door and into the stake that pierced her heart. Half a dozen rapid steps brought Buffy over to yank the other vamp away from her victim and into the same stake that'd killed the Sire. A startled expression was permanently fixed on the vamp's face as her form crumbled to dust. Then all was silent as Buffy paused to let her senses scan the area before deciding it was self to kneel down and check on the victim.

He was on the floor, leaning against the wall by the front door, his breathing labored and his eyes wide with shock. At a quick glance Buffy could see bruises forming along his arms, a slightly bloody bump rising off his forehead and the collar of his red t-shirt darkening from the blood that was still seeping down his neck, through the fingers he’d instinctively pressed up against his neck wound.

“Hey, buddy,” Buffy murmured softly as she knelt down next to him, a concerned expression fixed on her face as she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Wh-What?” he asked, his voice weak and confused as his slightly-glazed – still-panicked – brown eyes met hers.

“I’m Bu—Anne. My name’s Anne. What’s your name?” Buffy repeated, biting back a frown at her own slip up even as she continued to look him over for any more injuries.

She didn’t usually do this. Normally she either found victims when they were already dead or just as they were caught and were therefore still able to care for themselves. The few times she came across someone who needed medical attention she’d call Giles and he’d always taken care of it. She’d never asked how, just been relieved when she saw the would-be victim back in school a few days later.

Charlie's P.O.V.

“Cha-Charlie. I’m Charlie. Eppes. Charlie Eppes,” Charlie replied, shakily  fumbling with the injury on his neck. He could still feel blood flowing out of far too steadily.

How had that girl—that monster—bitten that deep? How had her face changed and given her fangs that could do that?

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” the angel told him, her voice gentle and kind as it drew his attention away from his neck and back to her.

He could barely make out her face. His vision had started to blur from blood loss. But he thought the angel was rather pretty. As an angel should be. She had golden blonde hair that seemed to almost shine in the dim lighting, and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen.

“…kit nearby?”

Charlie frowned as he realized the angel had asked him a question. “Wh-What?”

“A first aid kit, Charlie. Do you have one?”

“Ye-Yeah,” Charlie nodded jerkily, wincing as the motion jarred his neck wound and made his curly hair bounce around the bump on his head. “K-Kitchen... thra-through the-there,” he told her, glancing towards the nearby door after making a quickly aborted effort to point at it with his bloody hand.

“Okay. You jus... here... be… ‘ack.”

Charlie frowned as the angel started to move away, struggling to try to go after her despite his total lack of any strength whatsoever. He was so weak that even breathing was difficult. And the pain he was still in certainly didn’t help.

“Don’t move,” the angel’s sharp rebuke made his movements cease, though the gentler words that followed made him feel a bit better. “I’ll be right back.”

‘She’ll come back... She promised.’ Charlie told himself even as the strength he’d apparently been using to hold himself up against the wall failed, causing him to fall further back into the floor, banging his aching head on the wall a bit on the way down.

Buffy's P.O.V.

Buffy sped through what looked like a dining room and pushed open the door to the kitchen, glancing around before quickly starting to pull open counter drawers. She found the first aid kit in the third drawer she opened, quickly pulling it out and heading to the fridge for a bottle of water and grabbing some paper towels before hurrying back out to the wounded teen again. As she knelt by Charlie’s once again, she frowned at his glassy-eyed stare. “Hey. Hey, Charlie, you okay?”

Charlie didn’t respond verbally, though his eyes did seem to focus on her face even as weak shivers started over his body.

“Shit...” Buffy muttered, as she looked around again. Spotting a phone on a nearby table, she grabbed it, flipping it open to dial 911 even as she grabbed one of the envelopes she saw sitting by it to read the address off it.

“911 emergen—”

“I need an ambulance at 874 Hunter Street, Pasadena,” Buffy cut in quickly while gently moving Charlie forward so that he could lie his head down on her coat as she rolled it up to place it under him. *

“What is the nature of your emergency, ma’am?” the female operator’s almost monotone reply came.

“I need an ambulance!” Buffy snapped as she pushed Charlie’s hands away from his neck to replace them with the towels she’d brought from the kitchen. “My... friend’s lost a lot of blood from a neck wound. And I think he has a concussion... and he might be in shock.”

“Okay, an ambulance is on its way, ma’am. As are the L.A.P.D. Can you reach your friend?”

“Yes.”

“Get him a blanket to keep him warm if you can. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. What about his neck? He’s loosing a lot of blood!”

“Apply pressure to his wound. An ambulance will be there soon. You said he’s in shock?”

“I think so. He told me where his first aid kit was, but now he’s staring at nothing... He’s still breathing though.”

“Try to keep him warm and awake, ma’am. The medics will be there soon and I’ll stay on the line with you until they get there. Do you know how the injury occurred?”

“Na-No. I was walking and the front door was open. He was laying there clutching his neck. I came in and got his kit,” Buffy answered, hoping the brief but technically truthful summary would be enough to satisfy the woman and the cops that were on their way here. She didn’t know if pointed obliviousness that plagued Sunnydale concerning all things supernatural worked here in L.A or not.

“Okay. Are you and the victim alone?”

“Yeah, I think so. Sa-Someone else would have helped him if they were here, right?” Buffy responded, letting her full on 'valley girl' act out to really push the naivete that'd hopefully make the operator ask her less questions.

“…Yes," the woman agreed after a second's hesitation, then added, "Some officers will be there very soon. Don’t let anyone in until the officers or the medics arrive, all right?”

“What if his family comes home?”

“Do you know where the victim’s family is?”

“No. But there are pictures everywhere here. And this house is too big for one person so—”

“If they return you can let them in, but stay on the line with me and tell them to stay back from the victim, all right?”

“Okay,” Buffy replied, still a little unsurely. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be here when the cops got here... but she couldn’t just leave Charlie like this either.

“For the record, ma’am. What is your name?”

Buffy frowned hesitating a moment before replying. “Anne... My name’s Anne O’Connor. Will I need an I.D? I don't have anything with me. I don’t drive and I was just out walking.”

Angel had told her once that he’d paid a witch or warlock some time in the past to enchant his original surname so that he could move through society with it without problems. And that it supposedly still worked well and would for a long time yet.

“Thank you, Miss O’Connor. Is the victim fully unconscious?”

“Umm...” glancing at Charlie’s unfocused, but still moving eyes she shook her head. “No. He’s not really here though, I don’t think... Maybe ‘cause of a concussion?”

“Blood loss and shock may also affect that. Is he breathing regularly?”

“No, but I think that’s more because his neck’s hurt and he’s in pain.”

“That may be. But keep a close eye on his breathing. Can you find his pulse?”

“Uh, yeah, I could, but my hand’s are kind of full. What...”

Flashing lights drew her eyes to the closed front door and she sighed in relief as she heard more than one vehicle pulling up outside.

“Miss O’Connor?”

“The ambulance is here, should I open the door?” Buffy asked, relief clear in her voice even as she continued to watch the windows, waiting for someone to knock or just come in.

“Is the door locked?”

“I don’t think so,” Buffy said, frowning toward the doorknob even as she shook her head. “I didn’t think to lock it.”

“Then the E.M.T's should be with you shortly. Just wait for them to come to you. Are the police officers there yet?”

“There’s more than one vehicle, I think, so yeah, I think so,” Buffy nodded, before frowning slightly. “I’m gonna hang up now, I kind of need my hands.”

“Wai—”

Not waiting for the command to be finished, Buffy hit the call ‘end’ button with another sigh, slipping the phone into her pocket after a moment’s thought and gently taking one of Charlie’s hands in her own even as she saw a police officer’s face looking in through one of the windows and a moment later was surrounded by officers and medics moving about.

For the next few minutes she watched in a daze as the police officers moved around the house—‘securing it’—and the paramedics worked at an almost frantic pace around Charlie, throwing rapid questions at her occasionally after telling her to back away a few steps. he was pulled out of her daze by one of the paramedic’s voices as they finished loading him on a gurney to take him out of the house.

“Miss! Miss, are you coming?”

Buffy started, looking up at the medics as they moved rapidly down the walkway to the waiting ambulance, one turning a few times to look back at her as they did.

As they started loading Charlie into the ambulance even as he called out to her again. “Miss! We have to go!”

When she didn’t respond right away, one of the officers placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and started to pull her towards the ambulance. “It’s all right, Miss. You can go,” he told her. “Someone will come into the hospital to question you later.”

Still a bit unsure, Buffy glanced at Charlie’s face as he was loaded into the ambulance. He apparently wasn’t totally gone from shock. He was aware enough of his surrounding to be frightened by the rapid changes – the medic’s load voices and the many flashing lights – and his chocolate brown eyes had latched onto hers, apparently seeing her as a point of stability in all the chaos. Of course, a part of him probably knew that she’d just save his life in more ways than one, and that made him trust her...

A part of her knew she should send him to the hospital and disappear. But a larger part of her really didn’t want to.

After glancing at the house – empty except for the officers that were canvassing the scene – she glanced at Charlie’s frightened face again as she was pulled up into the ambulance, and nodded, moving to Charlie’s side and taking his hand again as the ambulance’s rear doors slammed shut behind her and the vehicle sped off with its lights flashing, though their siren was silent due to the late – or early – hour and empty streets.

Charlie's P.O.V.

Charlie frowned in confusion as the E.M.T's moved around him, doing who knows what in all this chaos. The ambulance’s interior was dark, with some soft lighting for the medics to see by but mostly dominated by the flashing red and blue lights the emergency vehicle was broadcasting around them.

He shouldn’t be afraid of an ambulance. Or the hospital. They were taking him there to help him. But he couldn’t help it. His parents were on a different continent and his brother was thousands of miles away, too.

He could barely see the angel in the darkness, but he knew the small, warm hand holding one of his in a gentle grip was hers. He thought the faint smell or roses his nose was catching might be hers too, since she was the only female there.

That scent and that touch were enough reassurance to tell him that he was safe now. That is was safe for his eyes to close. To rest. So he did.

Chapter Text

First Meeting

Part I in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Chapter 1: A Hellish Place

Part 1.

Los Angeles, California – Monday, June 3, 1996 – EARLY morning

Buffy's P.O.V. 

Buffy had only been in a hospital once since her cousin Celia died. But she  didn't remember it being as busy—or as chaotic—as this one was. Sure, L.A General's E.R probably got a lot more patients then the Emergency Room in Sunnydale. Los Angeles was a lot bigger than Sunnydale, with a lot of potential patients running around 24/7. And most of the people that were unfortunate enough to become victims of the supernatural on the Hellmouth didn't survive the encounter: so they went straight to one of Sunnydale's dozen morgues.

She stepped aside as another ambulance arrived, backing up to the wall to give the hospital staff plenty of room to rush by. She had to bite her lip when she saw that the black boy on the gurney looked a few years younger than her. She was pretty sure 'G.S.W' meant gunshot wound, but all the other technical terms went in one ear and out the other. Though she knew they all meant something to the people around the boy as he was being rushed through the waiting room by paramedics, nurses and probably at least one doctor.

That was the fifth gunshot victim she'd seen rushed in since she'd arrived with Charlie a little over ten minutes ago. Vampires and demons were bad enough, why did people have to hurt each other, too? Some sadness at the realization made it through the nearly ever-present numbness she'd felt trapped in ever since she'd had to send Angel to Hell. 

"Miss, you're here with Charles Eppes? Miss!"

Buffy startled, shaking herself out of her daze to turn towards the frazzled nurse that was waiting for her response. As the words registered she nodded hastily, then hesitantly accepted the clipboard that was shoved in her face.

"Fill these out and turn them in at the desk as quickly as possible, please," the nurse ordered, before running over to said desk as the phone rang for what had to be the thirtieth time since Buffy had arrived.

The Slayer blinked at the clipboard, her eyes scanning rapidly over what was only the first of multiple pages--and all information she certainly didn't know. She took a step towards the desk to ask the distracted nurse's back, "How am I sup--"

"You have his cell phone, don't you?"

Buffy wasn't sure how high she jumped, but it must have been about a foot, before she spun towards the vaguely familiar voice. Her eyes momentarily widened with surprise before they narrowed in anger. "What are you doing here?"

Whistler stepped back, fidgeting a bit nervously as he raised his hands at the anger that was radiating from the blonde's form. "Hey, hey, Slayer, remember. I'm just a messenger."

"What—"

"And yeah, I know that what happened with Angel sucked. Believe me, I didn't want to see it end that way. But it was him or the world, and it was my job to let you know that. Sorry." The Balance Demon told her, his voice much firmer than one would expect from someone who looked as nervous as he did. But then again, Buffy had threatened to rip out his ribcage the last time he saw her. He hurried on before she could muster a response that'd probably contain a similar threat. "Charlie-boy might not have much time, by the way, so you really should get those filled out."

Buffy's eyes darted towards the nurse's station again, where all the nurses were still running around between phones and forms and patients in a sort of organized chaos that made her head spin if she tried to watch it for too long. None of them were paying any attention to the pair that was still several steps away from their desk, so she looked at the clipboard then back at the Balance Demon, now frowning more in confusion than anger. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"You have his cell phone, don't you?" Whistler repeated his earlier question, rolling his eyes slightly as he did so. All his earlier nerves seemingly gone since she wasn't looking like she was going to try to rip his ribcage out right away.

"Yeah," Buffy acknowledged, because she had dropped the phone in her coat pocket after she'd hung up on 9-1-1 when the E.M.T's showed up. It was probably covered in blood, because both her hands were from trying to keep the other teen from bleeding out. But it was there. She'd have to remember to leave it with it's owner before she left. "Yeah. So?" she asked, looking back at the Balance Demon.

Whistler rolled his eyes again. "So, call someone."

"Call..." Buffy trailed off as realization struck, sending her rooting through her pockets for the cell phone that she'd called 9-1-1 on less than an hour before. After fumbling with it for a few seconds she smiled as the phonebook popped up. Her smile faded slightly, though, as she scrolled through the list, coming across a surprising number of doctors and a wide range of area codes. Spotting a piece of paper on a nearby side table, she grabbed it and the pen that was with it, before making her way back over to the wall Whistler was leaning against, hurrying her last few steps as yet another gurney was run in from an ambulance. Then she placed the piece of paper on the clipboard the nurse had given her with all the important paperwork on it, and started listing the phone numbers that were probably important: ignoring all the various doctors the poor guy apparently needed to see.

Dad - Cell.

Don  - Cell.

Larry  - Home.

Larry  - Work.

Mom & Dad - Home.

Mom  - Cell.

“Obviously ‘Mom and Dad’ aren’t home,” Buffy muttered to herself. “So whose cell? ‘Don’ and ‘Larry’ might not be family... Mom’s or Dad’s?” After another second’s thought she scrolled down to ‘Mom’ and pressed the green ‘Call’ button.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Charlie? What are you doing up at this hour? It must be, what," a confused woman's voice answered the phone. "Two in the morning there now?"

Buffy licked her lips nervously before asking, “Missus Eppes?”

“Who—Yes. This is Margaret Eppes. Who is this?”

“My-My name’s Anne. I’m in L.A General Hospital with Charlie.”

“Oh my god! What happened?!”

Buffy took a deep breath, struggling for composure as the woman’s panicked tone brought back memories of her last argument with her own mother a few weeks before. “It, um, looks like someone broke into your house. I-I was out walking, and your front door was open. I heard Charlie calling for help, an-and I called an ambulance,” she explained quickly, stumbling over some of the details she really couldn't give the poor woman and unable to keep her nervousness out of her voice.

It was several long moments before Missus Eppes spoke again. Buffy could hear her taking several long, deep breaths to calm herself even as she heard a man’s voice asking what was wrong in the background. “Tha-Thank you for that, dear. What did you say your name was?”

“Anne, ma’am.”

“Well, thank you very much for your help, Anne. Will you please tell Charlie’s doctor that his father and I will be on the first available flight back from Paris?”

“Ye-Yes, ma’am,” Buffy nodded, before hurriedly continuing. “They want me to fill out some paperwork for him. Can you help me? I don’t want to make him wait for anything.”

“What are—"

Buffy frowned slightly as she saw Whistler make a strange, waiving gesture out of the corner of her eyes, but she decided to ignore it as the older woman continued.

"No. Never mind. Yes, of course I’ll help you. One moment,” Missus Eppes obviously pulled the phone away from her, but Buffy could still hear her ask her husband, “Alan, call the airport and the front desk. We need to get home right away. Charlie’s in the hospital.” Then she was on the phone again, “All right, dear. Are you ready?”

Having already seated herself on the floor since there were no free chairs, Buffy propped the phone in the crook of her shoulder and held her stolen pen over the clipboard before she nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I'm ready.”

“Well, Charlie’s full name is Doctor Charles Edward Eppes.”

Buffy blinked at the title but wrote it in anyway, even as she asked because she wasn't able to suppress her curiosity: “He’s a doctor?”

He didn't look that much older than her. She would've thought he was still in high school, too.

“Of mathematics, yes.”

Buffy frowned in slight confusion at that, but shook her head and forced herself to move on. “Okay, his birth date?”

“May fifteenth, nineteen-seventy-seven.”

“His social security?” Buffy asked, writing down the response and breezing through most of the following questions with relative ease. Finally closing it with, “And who should I put down for emergency contacts?”

“Margaret and Alan Eppes. Mother and Father. You have my cell phone number already, from Charlie’s cell? Do you have Alan’s?”

“That would be 'Dad's Cell' on Charlie's phone?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And his brother, Don Eppes.”

“All right. Is his brother nearby? Should I call him?” Buffy offered with a frown as she quickly scanned the paperwork again, to make sure it was complete, starting slightly when she realized she’d made another unusual offer of help.

She shook her head at that, reasoning that she just felt guilty for not getting to Charlie sooner or patrolling more regularly—something she'd stopped almost entirely since leaving Sunnydale. It certainly hadn't been easy to keep the Slayer suppressed, but so far she'd handled it. Until tonight. If she'd been able to ignore it tonight, Charlie would be dead and those three vamp-hos would still be trolling the town. So maybe the Slayer was latching onto Charlie, or maybe her conscious was, either way she didn't really have time to think about it right now.

“Oh, would you, dear?” Missus Eppes’ thankful response drew Buffy out of her thoughts. “He’s in Nevada, if he's off-duty. Or he could be anywhere in the country if he's working, but he could still fly there much faster than his father and I can. If-If he’s not on an assignment in the field. He works in Fugitive Recovery. I have to pack now – would you mind calling him?”

“No-No, not at all.” Buffy answered, not about to give this worried woman an answer that'd make this night even worse for her if she didn't have to.

“Thank you so much, dear. Please call me if anything, anything at all, changes. All right?”

“I will, Missus Eppes.”

“Thank you, Anne. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Goodbye, Missus Eppes. Have a safe flight.” With another sigh, Buffy hung up and opened the phonebook again to try the brother’s cell phone. She set the clipboard down on the floor as she rose to her feet and leaned back against the wall.

She was starting to see why Giles always told her to just drop people off or leave when the ambulance arrived. If she had to stay here till Charlie's parents flew back from France she was going to miss at least one shift at the diner.

After several unanswered rings—unsurprising, considering the time—the phone’s voicemail picked up. "Hi, this is Special Agent Don Eppes. I'm not available to take your call right now. If this is related to a case, contact the F.B.I Headquarters at 1-202-324-3447 or the U.S. Fugitive Recovery Office at 1-702-562-4141. If not, leave a message." *(1)

At the tone—or more specifically after hearing Don Eppe's title—Buffy started a bit nervously, but she forced herself to carry on. "Umm, he-hello Agent Eppes. I'm sorry to bother you, but your mother, Margaret Eppes, she asked me to call you and tell you that Charlie's in the hospital. Your brother, Charlie, I mean. I-I think she's hoping you might be able to make it to California sooner than them? Since they have to fly back from Europe?" she licked her lips nervously, then shot a glare at Whistler as she saw him glancing at his hideous watch. "She said you might not be able to, if-if you're working. But, it's, uh," Buffy grabbed Whistler's wrist and ignored his protests as she turned the ugly watch's face towards her. "It's 2 A.M right now, and I'm waiting to hear from the doctors at L.A. General. If you get this any time soon, feel free to call me back. I don't have my own cell with me, but I have your brother's. Goodbye." As she brought the phone away from her ear, she stopped herself just before hitting the 'End' button to bring it back, "Oh! And my name's Anne."

“Miss?” the harassed nurse that'd pushed the clipboard at her a few moments ago had returned, an expectant look on her tired face. “Are those papers almost done? We need that information as soon as possible.”

“Ye-Yeah. Here. I had to call his Mom to answer some of them,” Buffy told her, hoping to excuse the amount of time it had taken her to fill them out.

The nurse was nodding distractedly as she looked the papers' over, but then she looked up with a frown. “'His' mother? You’re not family?”

“No.” Buffy shook her head, “His parents are in Europe. In Paris. And his brother lives, uh, out-of-state. I found Charlie, and called the ambulance. The police and E.M.T's said I could come in with him.”

The nurse shook her head slightly, still frowning, but suddenly she paused, an odd look passing over her face as Buffy saw Whistler waive again out of the corner of her eyes: he was make that same waving motion at the woman. “Oh. Are you his girlfriend, then?”

Buffy blinked, suddenly struck by the realization that if she admitted to not knowing Charlie at all before finding him this evening she probably wouldn’t be able to help him anymore. She didn’t want that. For one, she’d promised Missus Eppes she’d look after him until his parents got here. And two, despite how much she still hated hospitals, a large part of her wanted to make sure he was okay, so she nodded. “Ye-Yeah. We’re kinda new though?”

The nurse nodded, still frowning even as her eyes went back to the papers she'd come for while she told Buffy, a bit distractedly, “We need to get in touch with his family as soon as possible. Is his brother flying in also?”

“I don’t know. I called and left him a voicemail, but he’s an F.B.I Agent, and his Mom said he might not be able to come if he’s working now.” Buffy shrugged a little helplessly. “She said that they’ll be back as soon as possible. But they’re in Paris, so it could be a while.”

“And if they’re flying we won’t be able to contact them for an extended period of time... Can you get Missus Eppes on the phone again?” The nurse asked, still frowning. “If she gives the hospital permission, you can act as his medical advocate in their absence.”

“Um, al-alright. Give me a second, please,” Buffy replied, taking out Charlie’s cell phone again, and opening the list of recent phone calls to select ‘Mom’ and hit ‘Call’ again, glad that the phone was fully charged when she'd grabbed it on her way out of the house.

As the phone was ringing, the nurse gave her a nod and said, “I’m just going to take these to the doctor. We’ll be right back to speak to her.”

Buffy nodded, watching her speed away with no little amount of relief as she glanced around to find herself alone with the cell phone at her ear. Except for all the other peoples whose panicked attention was elsewhere. And Whistler, who no one else seemed to notice, despite his hideous suit.

After a total of four rings, Missus Eppes picked up. “Hello? Anne?”

“Yeah, Missus Eppes, it’s me. Anne, I mean,” Buffy replied quickly. “I’m sorry to call you back so soon. But a nurse said the doctor needs to speak to you.”

“What happened? Is Charlie okay?”

“I-I think so, they haven’t told me he's not, at least,” Buffy replied hesitantly, pausing for a second before continuing. “Um, I should tell you. I told the nurse that I was Charlie’s girlfriend. When she realized I wasn’t family I think they would have had to kick me out, a-and I didn’t want Charlie to be a-alone here, so when she asked if I was his girlfriend I-I said yes." She hurried on again when Missus Eppes didn't respond after a moment, frowning slightly as she saw Whistler making that same strange waving motion again, this time at her. "They-They said that if you give your permission, I-I can act as his, um, his medical advocate. Until you get here. I-I'd still call you, of course, but—"

"But once we're in the air, we'll be out of contact," Missus Eppes cut in, her voice surprisingly warm. "That's fine, dear. Thank you again for doing so much for Charlie... You're sure you're up to this responsibility?"

"Ye-Yes, ma'am. I think so." Buffy glanced up as she heard Whistler cough, and saw the nurse she'd spoken to before hurrying back towards her with another older woman in tow. "The doctor's here now."

"Okay, let me talk to him, please."

“Her,” Buffy corrected quietly, before putting a hand over the phone’s speaker to talk to the doctor. “I have Missus Eppes, Charlie's mom, on the phone."

The doctor accepted the phone from her with a nod. "Hello, Missus Eppes? I'm Doctor Helge. I'll be Doctor Eppes' attending trauma surgeon." She paused for a second, listening, before nodding again. "Yes, Charlie should be fine. He sustained a number of injuries, the worst of which are a mild concussion, which we're keeping an eye on, and the loss of a significant amount of blood." Again she paused, then nodded again, this time sighing as she replied, "Yes, we need to give him a transfusion, but I'm afraid the hospital is short on negative blood types at the moment due to several gang shootings this evening and a loss of power in one of the main refrigeration units. Doctor—Charlie is type AB negative, correct?" the doctor nodded again, stepping back against the wall beside Buffy as another gurney was run in from yet another ambulance. "Yes, with the accident and all of the transfusion we've needed this evening, our supply of negative and universal blood-types has run out. There's supposed to be more on the way from another hospital, but I'm afraid there are several patients in need of transfusions before Charlie, so he may need to wait longer than I like. We have him on saline and plasma drips right now, but he really needs blood." She paused again, then shook her head, "If we give him O positive—" *(2)

“Won’t that make him sick?” Buffy protested with a frown, shaking her head as the doctor and nurse looked at her. “Since he’s AB negative? I-I thought you couldn’t mix those.”

Doctor Helge nodded resignedly, “As Miss—Anne, was it?—just pointed out, we really shouldn’t mix positive blood types with AB negative. It could do more harm than good." She paused for Missus Eppes response again. “The problem, Missus Eppes, is that your son needs blood. Saline and plasma can only help him for so long. But he can only receive from sixteen percent of the donor population, which normally wouldn't be a problem but is with the blood shortage and several other patients also having negative blood types. He's young, so his body's still fighting, but even tied to the I.V's and life-support we have him on now, we don't know how much longer his body can support itself without more blood." *(2)

Buffy’s frown deepened, and she shook her head. She’d known, of course, that the vamp had taken a lot of his blood, but the added complication of the hospital not having his rare blood type on hand obviously meant he could still die. That was part of the reason, she remembered, Giles had let Willow talk all of them into getting their blood tested, so that they’d know their blood types...

She started as the memory that thought brought came back to her.

~ * FLASHBACK * ~

Giles nodded in response to Willow’s arguments with a slight smile on his face. “You have a number of excellent points, Willow.”

“So when should I sign us up for?” Willow demanded, eyes scanning Sunnydale General Hospital’s homepage on her laptop. “S.G.H is having a blood drive now...” She shook her head, “You know, I used to wonder why we have so many of them. We have, like, five times the number of blood drives any of the hospitals in L.A have.”

“Really?” Xander mumbled through the doughnut he was currently munching on. “Guess it makes sense, with all the vamp attacks around here.”

“Indeed it does,” Giles agreed still smiling. “And yes, generally vampires don't need to kill their victims, so depending on their temperament, they may let you go. T he two of you," he nodded to Willow and Xander, "Should get your blood tested. And donate some, if you so desire. Though, as a werewolf, Oz cannot.”

“Yah, that’d be bad,” Xander agreed as he reached for another piece of sugary goodness. “Survive a vamp only to become a ‘wolf every full moon. No thank you,” he nodded to Oz and again mumbled through his doughnut, “No ‘fense.”

“None taken,” Oz nodded back.

Willow frowned, “What about you and Miss Calendar? And Buffy? She’s a lot more likely to need blood than we are.”

“Jenny and I already know our blood types. Jenny donated last month. I already knew because it's Council policy. And Buffy doesn't need to be tested. ”

Buffy blinked in surprise at that, but it was Willow who actually asked. “Why not? She—”

“Is the Slayer.” Giles cut in, “And as per Council policy her blood was tested immediately after she was first Called." At Buffy's confused look, he told her, "You may remember Merrick taking a small sample of your blood?" He continued as she thought about that.  "And, it was once again found that she has the same blood type that every other Slayer has had before her.”

“Slayer’s all have the same blood type? Really?” Willow blinked, before shaking her head. “That’s kind of neat. Do you know why?”

“No.” Giles shook his head as he removed his glasses and began to polish them. “It’s been theorized that all Slayers are universal donors because that is the opposite of vampires, figuratively speaking." Setting his glasses back on his face, he continued. “But we do not know for certain. To our knowledge, their blood doesn’t even change. They’re born universal donors and when they become slayers their blood takes on some mystical attributes, which may contribute to their abilities. But their blood type does not change."

“So Buffy’s O negative?” Willow verified.

“O negative plus Slay-power!” Xander added, apparently intrigued by the idea.

“Indeed.”

Here, Buffy finally spoke up, looking up from the math book she’d been struggling to comprehend for the quiz that was coming up the next day--though that was before her Watcher had set her on the task of trying to remember Merrick testing her blood before. “What does that mean if I donate blood?”

Giles frowned, “I beg your pardon?”

“If I give blood. Will it help or hurt whoever, um, gets it?”

“Theoretically,” Giles answer, and here the glasses came off again, “It could only help. However it is standard Council policy that Slayers cannot give blood. Nor can I, as an active field Watcher.”

“Why?” Buffy demanded with a frown, “If it’d help—”

“It isn’t considered wise for you to voluntarily weaken yourself, Buffy. And some Watchers believe that the blood of a Slayer might have a mystical effect on a normal human being. Vampires have always said that the blood of a Slayer is significantly different—more potent, mystically powerful—than the blood of normal humans for them, so it is a reasonable hypothesis.”

“So someone I gave my blood to could become a Slayer?” Buffy was still frowning. "I'd think the Council would like that."

“No, no,” Giles shook his head as he put his glasses back on. “Not as such. As their own body recovered, it would replace your blood with their own, and whatever abilities they gained from having some of your blood should fade with time. There’s a chance some remnants of your abilities might remain... but," he sighed, then admitted, "The Council is rather protective of the Slayer. So it’s never tested that.”

“What about blood bonds?” Willow asked, still clearly intrigued. “I read about those in one of the magic books. If the Slayer's blood is mystical, wouldn't a bond naturally form?”

“Yes, that is a possibility, as well." Seeing that only one of the other three teenagers knew what Willow was talking about, Giles explained, "As the blood of the Slayer contains a powerful mystical component, though it might pass their powers temporarily to another in a transfusion, it would almost certainly form a blood bond between the two."

“What's that mean?” Buffy asked, her math book forgotten in her lap.

“It would be similar to the bond that exists between a vampire and its Sire. Both are able to sense each other to some degree, and feel a connection between them. And yes, some of the Sire's attributes are often inherited, though in different degrees depending on the individual.” He paused, his glasses finally returning to his face as he continued. “In essence, you would forever feel connected to whoever you saved in this manner, and as the Council does not want the Slayer to have such connections—”

"They forbid Slayers from giving blood," Buffy cut in. " Even when it might save lives. When my ability to heal might be the difference between life and death for someone...”

"To be fair," Xander interrupted as he finished his doughnut, shrugging as all eyes flew to him. "It could be dangerous for you, too. I mean, losing blood, even for a good cause, will make you weaker for a while, right?" He nodded without waiting for confirmation. "Right. And if someone noticed anything different about your blood—"

"I could end up a lab rat somewhere," Buffy winced, nodding in agreement, before sighing. "I guess..."

~ * END OF FLASHBACK * ~

Buffy shook her head, frowning as her mind came back to the present and whacking the finger Whistler was about to poke her with aside as she turned her eyes back to the doctor. She still didn’t want to be the Slayer, but she didn’t want to let Charlie die either. And despite the Council’s ‘forbidding’ the act, she knew she could help. So she spoke up. “Excuse me, Doctor Helge?”

“Please excuse me a moment, Missus Eppes,” The doctor turned to her with a frown, “Yes, Miss?”

“I’m O negative. My blood type, I mean. Could I donate for Charlie?”

The doctor blinked at her, still seeming to not notice the man dressed in orange that was next to Buffy and waving at the older woman again. "You are? You're certain?”

“Yeah, I had my blood tested at a blood drive just a few months ago.” Buffy lied more smoothly than before. “Can I give Charlie some of my blood?” she asked again.

Doctor Helge stared at her for a second, still not noticing as Whistler made that strange waving motion at her, before she nodded and turned her attention back to the phone. "Excuse me, Missus Eppes? Apparently Miss--your son's girlfriend, Anne—is Type O, negative, and willing to donate. It'd mean a bit more paperwork, but..." she paused abruptly as Charlie's mom said something in response, then nodded again. "Yes, she is. I understand you're willing to let Miss—one moment," raising an eyebrow at Buffy, she asked, "What is your name, dear? I can't seem to recall it." 

Buffy hesitated for a moment, but she was already tied to Charlie through the 9-1-1 call so she might as well trust the spell Angel had placed on his old surname really did work. Plus, she still felt a bit safe with it, since it wasn’t a name the Watcher’s Council was likely to be looking for. “It’s O’Conner, ma'am. Anne O’Conner.”

“I understand you’re willing to let Miss O’Conner act as your son’s medical advocate in your absence? Yes, Anne O’Connor.” Doctor Helge nodded again. “Very well, I’m going to give you to Nurse Lockley, she’ll give you a few numbers you need to call. The hospital director and whatnot, to allow this.” She paused a few moments longer, then nodded again. “Yes, of course. Please make these calls right away... Thank you, Missus Eppes. Have a safe flight. I'll pass you to Nurse Lockley now." So saying, she handed the phone to the nurse, who quickly moved away towards the nearby nurses station even as Doctor Helge turned back to Buffy and gestured towards the E.R doors. "Shall we?"

Buffy went with her, hoping this would work. And still a little wigged out by the fact that she seemed to be the only one that could see the Balance Demon walking along with them. If her eyes had to be attacked by his awful clothing choices, everyone else should suffer, too...

The doctor insisted on checking her blood, assuring her that it could be done quickly by a nurse she stopped to draw the sample. She also made Buffy step on a scale to check her weight, even though Buffy had written it on the form the nurse had given her for the transfusion thing. Then she continued down the hallway and out of the chaotic Emergency Room. At Buffy's surprised look, Doctor Helge told her, "The E.R is very busy tonight, especially with the police here after the shootings. Doctor Eppes' is among several patients we've moved to hospital rooms for his care.

"Oh, makes sense," Buffy nodded, even as she tried not to frown at the Balance Demon that she was pretty sure only she could see as he followed the nurse with the blood sample.

The hospital room they went in a few minutes later had a lot of people bustling around it, too. Charlie wasn't the only patient hidden behind the privacy curtains so Buffy could help but glance worried around at all the busy people, and all the hospital equipment... and then at the far too still, and still much too pale, Charlie. She kept quiet, not wanting to distract the doctor as the older woman looked at her patient's machines.

Another nurse came in with paperwork in hand, frowned at her, looked at the paperwork again, then offered her a polite smile. "I just need to check your weight again, miss. Over here, please," she said, indicating yet another scale that was apparently kept in the hospital room here, too.

Buffy didn't let herself roll her eyes as she complied, stepping on the scale and watching the nurse till she waived her away again with a shake of her head. Why did they have her fill the form out if they were going to check anyway?

"Thank you, miss," Nurse #3 said, before she went over to the doctor, who nodded as she accepted the paperwork she'd brought back with her.

Then the second nurse was coming back with Whistler—who everyone else was still not noticing—a step behind her. She nodded to the doctor as she turned to face her from Charlie's bed. "Her blood's clean."

Doctor Helge reported, smiling at 'Anne' as the nurse started taking equipment out of some cabinets in the room. "And the paper work's all done. So we can get started."

Buffy returned her smile hesitantly, before her eyes went to the nurse as the older woman gently took hold of her upper arm and started getting it ready for the transfusion. Her eyes darted back to the doctor, however, when Doctor Helge started talking again.

"You're sure you don't want to contact your parents for this, Miss O'Connor?" she asked.

Buffy shook her head firmly and the doctor sighed.

"We don't have to, since you're twenty-one," Doctor Helge finished, glancing at Buffy with a frown but continuing when Whistler waived at her again. "Your primary care physician is Doctor Mark Wallace?"

Buffy nodded hesitantly, hoping that listing someone who was turned into a vampire a little over months ago—and been subsequently staked—hadn't been a bad idea. "He was, yeah. I haven't found a new one yet, but I just had my physical a few months ago. Haven't need one since then."

"You're transferring out of Doctor Wallace's care?"

Buffy let herself wince then, "Well, he died a few months ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," Doctor Helge shook her head.

And Whistler was waiving at the doctor again—the waving thing was getting annoying. Why was he doing it? What was he even doing here? Not that she could ask, since she was the only one who could see him right now. She definitely didn't want to end up in a psych ward ever again.

"Well, I'd much rather have approval from either your parents or your regular physician, but—"

"I'm fine, Doctor Helge," Buffy cut in, hoping her voice was firm as she glanced away from the needly the nurse was now holding, waiting for the doctor to finally give the order. "Charlie's your patient, remember? And he needs this."

Helge shook her head, smiling slightly. "Actually, you became my patient, too, Anne, when you submitted yourself for this," she told her, then sighed. "Alright. Well, Charlie needs as much blood as we can take, so we're going to take just under a pint, which is the most an average person can donate. Considering how small your are—" *(3)

"Take as much as he needs," Buffy insisted, shaking her head when both the nurse and doctor frowned at her again. "I'm in really good shape, and I've always healed quickly. So please take as much as you possibly can, I'll sign whatever you need me to for it, but like you said: he needs it."

"Yes, he does," Doctor Helge agrees, before shaking her head yet again. "But we don't want to hurt you to help him, Miss O'Connor. You're very small—"

"I'm in great shape," Buffy cut in again, frowning right back at them as she added, "And I'll be staying here for a while afterwards, anyway. I promised Missus Eppes I'd stay with Charlie at least till she gets here, so you can observe me, or whatever, then."

At that Doctor Helge offered her a tired, but kind smile. "Yes, I heard," then she sighed, still not noticing as Whistler waived at her—though this time Buffy could suppress her frown as it drew her eyes back to the badly dressed Balance Demon again. "Alright," she nodded to Nurse Lockley before her eyes went back to Buffy. "We'll be monitoring your blood pressure, but we'll take as much as we safely can within the hospital's regulations. It's not as much as he really needs, but if tried for any more we'd lose our jobs.

Buffy bit her lip, but nodded before turning to watch as one of the nurses she didn't know came in to hook her up to the saline drip that Lockley had been talking about a minute ago. At the same time, Lockley was handing Doctor Helge the equipment for the transfusion. She watched as the doctor first stuck a needle into her arm—near the inside of her elbow—before stopping to frown as she looked at the large bag another nurse had come in to attach to a nearby machine.

"Lisa, why—"

"That was the only size I could find, doctor," the nurse explained quickly. "The lab's a mess down there, trying to get everything they can out while they wait for the Red Cross shipment to come in. I couldn't get anyone to help me look for a smaller bag right away, but the pump will tell us when it hits a pint, right?"

After a moment Doctor Helge nodded—right after Whistler waived at her again—and sighed before attaching the tube from Buffy's arm to the pump that was probably supposed to fill the bag. She frowned as she looked over the machine and shook her head. "Is this new?"

Nurse Lockley nodded, "Yeah. Administration just started replacing them with this kind this week. I think we're supposed to review it at the next seminar. They're supposed to be faster and more efficient, all that good stuff. You already took the course, didn't you, Lisa?"

The nurse that'd brought the big bag and pump in nodded, stepping forward. "Yeah, I can get it started if you want, Doctor Helge. One pint, right?"

The doctor stepped aside with a nod, frowning at the new device as she muttered, "You'd think they'd teach us how to use it before replacing the old ones." Her eyes then met Buffy's as she forced a small smile onto her face. "Just a moment, Anne. This shouldn't take too much longer." Her eyes went back to the other nurse as the younger woman moved back.

"All set."

"Thank you, Lisa," Doctor Helge nodded, before nodding as Lockley put a small plastic ball in Buffy's hand.

"Squeeze that," Lockley told her, before shaking her head and patting Buffy's hand softly. "No, gently, gently. And slower, about every five to seven seconds." 

With the nurse's calm coaxing, under Doctor Helge's attentive eyes, Buffy watched as her blood left her body and flowed steadily into Charlie's. She was a little uncomfortable with the action, as she felt the confusion from the Slayer part of her at the lost. It was a feeling that was hers but not hers, in her mind but not entirely her--and something she'd been able to sense more and more steadily since her momentary death at The Master's hands. The Slayer was unhappy at losing blood, but just as happy that the blood would help save an innocent life that the vampires had tried to take. After a few moments of the conflicting emotions rolling around in her head, she felt the volatile part of her being relax and accept what was happening. And then she swore she could actually feel her healing ability kick into overdrive, as though it wanted to make up for the loss as it was occurring.

"Are you alright, Anne?"

Buffy blinked, glancing up to see that the doctor was still watching her—even as Whistler was waving at everyone in the room like a  crazy person. She made herself ignore the clearly unbalance but invisible demon and nodded in response to the concerned inquiry. "I'm fine. It just..." she shrugged. "It looks a little weird, you know? To watch my blood like... that."

Doctor Helge nodded in understanding, smiling slightly. "Actually, most people don't watch when they're donating blood, even when it's into another person that's right next to them. Though that's rarely done. They might glance at anything else in the room, but generally they shut their eyes, or look at anything but the needle in their arm and the blood leaving them."

"Blood doesn't bother me," Buffy replied with another shrug, adding with a glance around the room. "I'm not too fond of hospitals, actually, but blood doesn't bother me."

"Most people don't like being in hospitals," the doctor replied, her tone sympathetic now. "I can't blame them. Being in one if you don't work there means that either you're unwell or someone you care for is." She was silent for a second, before asking, "Have you spent much time in a hospital before?"

"Not really," Buffy answered honestly, seeing not harm in telling the truth there. "I visited my Dad's mom a few times before she died when I was little. And I-I saw my cousin die in one."

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah. Celia. She died when I was eight," Buffy told her quietly, her eyes distant as she traveled down memory lane to that terrible memory that she'd only recently learned was tied to demons, too. "She was supposed to be getting better and my parents left me in her hospital room for a little while, to play with her. We started coloring, and we were talking, and then she just... froze up. Then she started shaking. Then all the machines made a lot of noise and I hid in the corner while the doctors tried to save her. One of the nurses spotted me as they were covering her up."

All three older women winced as the doctor said, "I'm sorry."

Buffy started at the doctor's equally quiet, sad words, before shaking her head. "Not your fault. But thanks."

"It's easy to understand your not liking hospitals then," Nurse Lockley offered kindly.

"It is," the doctor agreed. "And it makes your calm decisiveness today all the more admirable."

"Um, thanks, I think," Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "It was a long time ago, anyway. And Charlie needs me today."

"He does," Doctor Helge nodded, then asked, "How old was your cousin?"

"Celia? I think she was seven when she died. Just a little younger than me."

The doctor shook her head again with weary sadness. "I became a doctor to help people. And I've learned to accept death when it happens. But it's much harder with children."

"It should be, I think," Buffy replied, as her mind traveled back to some of the time's she'd needed to rescue kids from vamps.

Most of the residents of Sunnydale knew it wasn't safe to come out after dark. And most of the parents there made sure their children were always safe, especially the little ones. But sometimes she'd run into out-of-towners that weren't so well-informed.

Buffy shook her head, frowning as she saw Whistler suddenly stop his crazy waving and start a different gesture. One that almost looked like 'stop,' like a crossing guard gesture. She was distracted by what felt like an almost purr from the Slayer. *(4)

A moment later Lockley cleared her throat nervously. "Doctor Helge, isn't that..."

All eyes went to the older nurse first, and then to the nearly full bag of blood that she was looking at.

"What? Oh!" the doctor was frowning deeply as she went through the motions of removing the needle from Buffy's arm with the ease of long practice, allowing the nurse to press a bandage there as the last of Buffy's donated blood was sucked up the tube, through the pump and into the bag. "There we go," she said as she taped the bandage in place, frowning at the bag all the while. "Damn. How much did we take?"

Nurse Lockley glanced at the bag also, her face nervous as she replied, "Almost a pint and a half, I think, doctor." *(3)

Doctor Helge shook her head again, her frown deepening. "That's what I thought," she murmured as she wrote the amount in. "Damn. I didn't want to take that much." Her eyes went to the younger nurse, who was scowling at the new pump, only to flinch as she noticed the doctor's eyes narrowing at her. "Lisa, what—"

"I don't know what happened, doctor," the nurse shook her head. "The pump says it hasn't reach a pint yet!"

"That's more than a pint," Helge snapped, shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, frowning as she shook her head and watched the doctor's eyes fly over the machines that were monitoring Buffy before looking at her. "You didn't take that much," the Slayer insisted, glancing at the much too-pale Charlie again as she asked, "Are you sure that's enough?"

"I didn't think we'd be able to take a full pint, Anne, and we ended up taking more than that. Almost half a pint more." The doctor shook her head again. "I was so busy watching your vitals, waiting for a signal that we had to stop early—I didn't even think of watching this thing." She jerked her chin at the pump, clearly furious with it. "And trust me, I'm going to have quite a few words with maintenance—and the administration—about this." Seeing the concerned glances that Buffy was still giving Charlie, she sighed. "Though how he lost so much blood from such a small wound I really don't understand, even a neck wound..." *(3)

"But you didn't take that much!" Buffy protested again, not seeing how the small amount they'd taken could help him, and still not sure why the Slayer had actually purred before they decided to stop. *(4)

"Look," the doctor put her clipboard back on the wall and pointed at some of the machines around Charlie as she continued. "Legally, we weren't supposed to take this much. They take more in combat situations in the military, but those men are considerably larger than you. And this should be more than enough to help Charlie's body begin healing well. His pulse and blood pressure should steady-out, and his breathing will regulate as his heart calms down. All good things." She shot the too-full bag of blood an exasperated look before nodding to Nurse Lockley and watching as said nurse wheeled the blood and pump closer to Charlie's beg, while the younger, and still more nervous nurse got more equipment to continue the transfusion into Charlie. "There's no point in pumping some of it back into you, but you are going to need to stay in that bed for the rest of the night."

"But he might need more. You should take more. I feel fine!" Buffy protested, watching as the nurses finished setting up for the doctor.

"It's not necessary," Helge insisted, then turned away from her to insert the needle into Charlie's arm, before attaching it to the pump and nodding to the younger nurse to turn it on. "Keep an eyes on that," she ordered with a frown for the new machine.

"It-It shouldn't be a problem here, doctor. It doesn't have to measure it this time, so—"

"It shouldn't have been a problem before, either," the doctor snapped, before turning back to Buffy, her tone gentling as she replied to Buffy's earlier protest. "I'm glad you feel fine. You may experience some dizziness, though your body should replace the blood you've lost in the next twenty-four hours. Which is why you'll be staying in that bed until morning, at least. We—"

"But I promised—"

"We'll keep Charlie right here, too. So you can keep an eye on him, all right?" After receiving a hesitant nod the doctor gently patted her on the shoulder. "We're going to get you hooked up to an I.V and one of the nurses will bring you a snack and some orange juice. I want you to eat it all, and then get some rest." She held up a hand to forestall protests. "If there's any news I'll be sure to let you know. But both you and Charlie need to rest right now, all right?

After a moment's hesitation, Buffy nodded reluctantly, though she was happy to see that Charlie did seem to be breathing more easily already. And he didn't look as pale as before either. "Okay. You'll wake me if--"

"I'll wake you if Charlie nees anything," the doctor promised, her pale blue eyes bright as she offered Buffy another smile. "You did a good thing this eve--this morning, Anne. Now eat your snack," she gestured to the cookie and orange juice that Lisa was just returning with. "Then get some rest."

Obediently, Buffy accepted the big cookie and the glass of orange juice, surprised to find that the cookie didn't taste like cardboard. Who knew hospitals had good cookies?

Nurse Lockley kept an eye on her until she'd finished the snack, and she was still puttering around the room as Buffy laid her head down and closed her eyes.

Buffy didn't really expect to be able to fall asleep in the hospital, but after a few moments the calm, quiet noises around he became distant as she faded off to sleep.

Sunnydale, California – Monday, June 3, 1996 – early morning

Joyce's P.O.V. 

Joyce Summers sighed as she moved around her kitchen again. Puttering. She didn’t need to be at the gallery for a few hours yet. Normally she wouldn’t even be awake at this hour, the birds were still only half-awake.

But then, nothing had been ‘normal’ about the last few weeks. Or the last few years, really. For Buffy 'normal' had apparently disappeared some time around her fifteenth birthday, as that was when she was 'Called' as the Slayey. For Joyce, nothing had been normal since the night she found out about that—when she saw her daughter shove a wooden stake through a masked-man's heart and learned that he was not a man in a mask, but a vampire, as he'd crumbled to dust. And then she'd learned that her daughter was some kind of mythic warrior that was supposed to fight these monsters...

She wished she’d reacted better. Since finding out all of what her daughter’s ‘destiny’ entailed, she really wished she hadn’t taken her confusion-based anger out on her only child.

It hadn’t been anymore reasonable to scream at Mister Giles when he’d come to her home to ask after Buffy a few days after she’d run away. After Joyce had kicked her out. But it had made her feel better. A little, at least.

Though that feeling quickly faded over the hours she’d then spent with the 'Watcher,' learning about her daughter’s life of the last few years. Learning about the 'fights and weird occurrences' Buffy had referred to.

It had broken her heart all over again. And until her daughter came home, she didn’t think that her heart had any hope of healing.

She’d filed a missing persons report weeks ago. At the same time Mister Giles and several of Buffy’s friends had gone to the police station to clear Buffy’s name.

Apparently the Sunnydale High School principal really was an evil man, as Buffy had insisted so many times. For she could think of no other reason he would be so insistent that Buffy was a murderer. Nor any reason he could refuse to let Buffy to return to school once her name was cleared.

All of that had eventually been sorted out though. With the police, at least. She wasn't sure about Principal Snyder.

But now all she needed was for her baby to come home.

She hoped Buffy would choose to return soon, but also put faith in Mister Giles finding her. A lot more faith than she could spare for the town's incompetent police department. Giles, at least, was expending time and effort looking for her. The police barely seemed to be trying at all.

Joyce shook her head. After finding out that real, true demons existed she’d been seeing evil everywhere, which was not how she wanted to live.

Hopefully, the world would seem like a better place when Buffy came home. And hopefully that was soon. She didn’t know how much more of this waiting she could take...

Chapter Text

Warnings: None that I can think of, if you see any please let me know.

A/N: Many thanks to NeverTooOld for beta-reading this chapter. Enjoy! ^_^

Original Published: October 2008

Revision Completed: 1/8/09

First Meeting

Part 1 in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Chapter 2: A Hellish Place

Part 2.

Angel’s Mansion, Sunnydale, California...

Buffy's P.O.V.

Buffy stared, unable to suppress the horror she could feel rolling around inside her at seeing this place again. Acathla wasn’t there anymore, which was a plus, though it did make her wonder where exactly it was now.

Looking around, she frowned as she finally noticed something was really off about the mansion.  

She couldn’t hear anything. Smell anything. Sense anything.

No. She could sense something, but it wasn’t the evil shadow she associated with this place.

Still, she didn’t hear any sounds from outside. And she didn’t smell anything.

"That’s because this isn’t real,” a familiar voice told her.

Buffy spun around, her eyes narrowing into slits as she recognized the Balance Demon, “Whistler! What—”  

“We need to talk, Slayer.” The Balance Demon cut in quickly, probably not wanting to give her the chance to either come up with more creative threats or follow through on any of the ones she’d already given. He continued even as her frown deepened at the title. “You’re still The Slayer, you know. You always will be. There’s only one way out of that. And The Powers That Be can’t let you go yet.”

"Ah, so we mere mortals only have free choice when it works for them?”

Whistler shrugged and shook his head. “No. You always have a choice, but we can’t really see you sticking to the wrong one. You couldn’t let Charlie die, could you?”  

Buffy started, backing away a step. “I—”  

“No, you couldn’t. It goes against your very being. And not just the part of you that’s becoming wholly The Slayer more and more each day. Buffy Anne Summers couldn’t let him die, either. Could you?”  

“No,” Buffy shook her head slowly, her hot fury fleeing in the face of cold logic. “I guess not.”  

“Just like you couldn’t let Angelus destroy the world. Kill a few people, sure. Though that went against the grain, too, didn’t it?” Now Whistler backed up several steps as Buffy’s anger returned with a glare. “Hey, I didn’t like that ending any more then you did, you know. Remember, I was the one that converted Angel. Got him to be a Champion of the Powers. And, to be honest, I kinda liked the guy. But it was him or the whole world. All of the human race, or at least the ones in this dimension. And every other life in the world.” He shook his head, honest sadness crossing his face. “No real choice there, huh?”  

Buffy struggled with it for a moment herself, then she admitted quietly, "No. I guess not," she said, and shook her head again, looking down as she asked. “Why are we here?”  

“The Powers want you to realize and accept the truth.”  

“What truth?”  

“What you are. What you will always be.”  

“What? A hero?” Buffy shook her head. “I don’t feel like a hero. ‘Course, I guess that’s why we’re called ‘Slayers’, huh? ‘Nother word for ‘killer.’”  

“Well, I guess you’re not a hero. Not in the sense of ‘perfect savior who can do no wrong,’ but those are just in comic books, kid. You? You are a savior. A Champion of the human race. Of Earth.” Whistler told her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “One of the ones that knows what’s out there and has to make the hard choices to protect everyone else.”  

“And how much longer have I got?” Buffy sighed, shaking her head. “How long am I expected to live like this?”  

“Just as long as you can.” Whistler assured her, adding before she could take any reassurance from that, “Though you might want to keep in mind that the moment you give up and give Evil the temporary victory of defeating you, all your burdens will fall onto the shoulders of another teenage girl.”  

“Like Kendra.”  Buffy winced, because seeing her sister-Slayer's lifeless body was one of those horrible things she'd never be able to forget.

“Like Kendra,” Whistler nodded. “Though the P.T.B like you a lot more than they’ve liked most of the Council-raised Slayers of the last three centuries or so.”  

“Why?” Buffy snorted, shaking her head again. “‘Cause I’ve lived a little longer?”  

“Well, yeah. But you’re also good at rallying others to the cause," Whistler shrugged. "Sure, most people choose to forget, but all of your friends chose to stick around and fight.”  

Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m sure others have chosen to fight. I know they did. There had to be over a thousand names in the book of demon hunters of the last century that Giles gave me a little while back. And that was just volume one. There were, like, ten more of them.”  

“True. But usually hunters are loners. Sure they might form small groups, team up from time to time. Those never last long though. Always fall apart when it comes time to make one of the hard decisions. That’s why most of ‘em aren’t Champions.”

Buffy grimaced. " It’s not like my friends really trust me that much more. They didn’t even tell me they were trying to restore Angel’s soul before sending me off to kill him. They were probably afraid I’d hold back if I knew,” she sighed, then she shook her head. “They were probably right.”

Whistler shrugged, “Yeah, well, who knows. Maybe it would’ve turned out differently. Maybe not. But when it came down to it, you still made the hard choice.”  

“What? Kill the man I love or let the world die?” Buffy shook her head again, “Like you said, no real ‘choice’ there. Even if I hadn’t been able to drive the sword through him and send him to Hell, Angel probably would have done it to himself once he realized what was happening. And if he hadn’t both of us would have gone to hell or died, with everyone else, anyway.”  

“Yeah, but you still stuck the sword through him,” Whistler murmured, shaking his head. “Lot of people would’ve let the world end. Lot of people wouldn’t have been able to walk out on their mom either.”  

“Are you actually trying to make me feel better?”  

Whistler chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that.” He paused then, thinking for several moments before he met her eyes again, his gaze so steady that she actually had to struggle a bit to keep herself from looking away. “Charlie Eppes will live. But you gotta ask yourself: how many people—innocents, just like him—are dying every night you don’t patrol in Sunnydale?”  

“People die when I patrol, too. In Sunnydale and everywhere else. There’s only one of me.” Buffy pointed out, her tone cold. “It’s a flaw in the system. A big one."  

“Maybe it is,” Whistler agreed with a shrug. “But it’s a necessary one. You gotta remember that everything in this world has to do with balance. Every move the Powers make is either a counter to or countered by the other side.”  

“Yeah, yeah, and the P.T.B are all about balance.” One eyebrow rising, Buffy continued, honestly curious. “Anyone up there actually interested in ‘Good’? You know, since the other side is just interested in ‘Evil,’ it might make more sense.”  

Whistler shook his head, “It’s not that simple, Slayer. If the Powers don’t mind the Balance, they could give Evil a foothold in this dimension. And then everything could be lost. Every time they make a move that is too Good, it gives Evil a free pass to do something of equal proportions.”  

“And that’s why there’s only one Slayer? Because I only slay a few vampires a night, maybe a few demons a week, when I am patrolling regularly. I really don’t see how that’s supposed to balance out.”  

“The vampires and demons you come up against are the real dangerous ones. The ones that want to destroy the world, wipe out or enslave humanity. Sure, you get some of the run of the mill vamps, too, but for the most part those are the ones Sired nearby. They’re not the ones that are attracted by the Hellmouth’s innate evil. Most vamps don’t even kill more then a few people a week,” he shook his head at her frown. “It sounds bad, I know, but it’s worked for several millennia already.” Then he smirked, “Though that’s actually another reason the Powers like you. You broke that rule and got away with it. Didn’t change the balance, and they had an extra Champion for a while. They liked that.”  

Buffy nodded, still frowning. “But what about the other Hellmouths? They need me to stay in Sunnydale, I know. But are the other ones guarded?”  

The Balance Demon shook his head again, “They don’t need to be. The one in Sunnydale is the only active one right now. The other ones are barely blips on the radar, so weak that most vamps and demons don’t even know about ‘em.” Seeing the look of disbelief on her face, he insisted, “Really. They don’t matter. We half expected one of them to become more potent, more active, when Kendra was Called: but so far we’ve been home free. So yeah, maybe we could Call a few more Slayers, but the Powers aren’t willing to take the chance that doing so will give the Fir—will give Evil a chance to pull something bigger off. A demon-god from another dimension, an army, something like that.”  

Buffy thought about it for several moments, then nodded. “So I have to be the only guard of the Hellmouth.”  

“You have your friends, and your Watcher, too.”  

Buffy nodded, before flinching as something occurred to her. “What about Charlie?”  

“What about him?”  

“He’d be dead if I hadn’t been in L.A.”  

“Maybe he would,” Whistler agreed. “Then again, any one of the many demon hunters in the city could have handled those vamps. And there are actually a lot of ‘em in L.A. Something about the City of Angels seems to draw them. Though they do miss things.”  

Buffy looked at him sharply, troubled by the thought, “Like what?”  

“Like..." Whistler paused, seeming to listen to something for a moment, before he shook his head. “Nope. Can’t tell you that. I can tell you that the Powers don’t need you to head back to the Hellmouth right away though. You can take a break for now, as long as you remember to head back fast if your dreams tell you you're needed.”  

“And when...” Buffy stopped as the Mansion seemed to fade out of existence, her vision blurring, “What’s—”  

“You’re waking up. Have fun with Charlie.” Whistler told her. “Remember who you are, and your duties. And don’t forget the Balance, and its consequences.”  

Los Angeles, California – Monday, June 3, 1996 – late afternoon

Buffy's P.O.V.

Buffy woke up to the sound of a vaguely familiar, fretful, female voice asking someone, “He’ll be alright, you’re sure?”  

As her groggy brain made the connection between the voice and the identity of the woman, Buffy couldn’t help but frown as she realized that Missus Eppes’ presence meant that Buffy herself had actually been asleep for hours. She hadn’t slept more than five hours a night since she’d first become the Slayer! She’d never needed to. Sure, she needed more catnaps when she was healing from a particularly nasty injury, but even then that was more a nap in study hall or maybe a little over an hour after school.  

“Yes, Missus Eppes, I’m quite sure,” Doctor Helge’s voice replied, her tone kind. “The extra blood Miss O’Connor gave him certainly seemed to do the trick. He’s been steadily improving remarkably well since the transfusion.”  

“He hasn’t woken up though?” a man’s voice asked worriedly.

Probably Charlie’s dad, Alan Eppes, Buffy reasoned.  

“No, he hasn’t. But that’s not surprising. He did lose a lot of blood. If he’d lost too much more, he probably wouldn’t have lasted long enough for the transfusion. He also had a mild concussion and I’m told he was in shock before he passed out. The combination would exhaust anyone. His body’s just recuperating. He should wake up some time early this evening, maybe even later this afternoon at the rate he’s been improving.”  

After a moment’s pause, Missus Eppes sounded a bit less worried as she asked, “And what about Anne? Is she okay? She’s been asleep this whole time?”  

Here the doctor sounded a bit worried as she replied, “Yes, Miss O’Connor will be fine. Though I’m afraid she wasn’t quite truthful when she told us she was in excellent health for the transfusion.” The latter part was added with a bit of irritation in her tone.

“She’s sick? Won’t—”  

“No,” Doctor Helge cut Mister Eppes’ worried question off quickly. “Not at all. Somehow she doesn’t have any actual illness. In that regard, I think she may be one of the healthiest people I’ve ever seen. From the scan we did of her blood just a few hours ago, it doesn’t look like she’s ever had any major illness.”  

“What’s wrong with her then?” Missus Eppes asked worriedly, making Buffy want to squirm guiltily even as she fought to remain ‘asleep’.

“Well, for starters, I don’t think she’s been taking the best care of herself lately. She’s somewhat malnourished, dehydrated and clearly exhausted. So she probably hasn’t been sleeping well or eating healthily.” The doctor paused for a moment before continuing with a sigh. “She was also very insistent that we take as much blood as possible for Charlie, and while that has certainly helped him, it wasn’t good for her.”  

“Why?” Mister Eppes asked, now sounding more concerned then frustrated, and again Buffy couldn’t help but feel guilty at the almost-stranger’s distress.  

“Well, she distracted us so we took a little more then we’d intended. Not much more, mind you, but if we’d known she wasn’t eating correctly we wouldn’t have taken any in the first place. And apparently something was wrong with the scale we weighed her on before admitting her, as it confirmed her lie about the weight she wrote on the form.”  

“I didn’t lie!” Buffy protested with an indignant frown, her eyes flying open only to cringe back when the three adults in the room turned towards her.

Doctor Helge shook her head in clear amusement as she moved to Buffy’s bedside to frown down at her. “You did, Miss O’Connor. To be eligible to donate blood you must weight at least one-hundred and ten pounds. You said you weigh one-hundred and twenty pounds.”  

“I do.”  

“No, you don’t. You're barely over a hundred pounds.” The doctor pointed to the clipboard that was hanging next to the I.V that was attached to Buffy’s arm. “We checked again a few hours ago. I’m not sure what happened with the scales, as two very competent nurses checked your weight right in front of me, but those particular scale have been removed.”  

“Oh.” Buffy frowned. “Well I didn’t lie. I thought I weighed a hundred and twenty pounds.”  

“When was the last time you checked?”  

“My-My weight?” Buffy blinked, frowning as she tried to remember. “I don’t know. Um, a month or two ago, I think. Sometime in April?”  

“Has your diet changed significantly since then?” the doctor demanded, her pen poised over the clipboard she’d grabbed a moment before.

“Um, a-a little, I guess. I moved away from home this summer, and have an apartment downtown now. I work at a diner near there, and we get lunch and dinner free when we’re working.”  

“And breakfast?”  

“I’m usually not hungry in the morning. I might have a muffin or fruit, sometimes yogurt, but usually I don’t eat too much until lunch.”  

“Well,” Dr. Helge shook her head disapprovingly. “You have to stop that. It’s not healthy. You need to eat breakfast regularly. It’s the most important meal of the day. And you should have quite a bit more variety in your diet. Surely diner food gets awful boring after a while?”  

Buffy shrugged, “I guess. I’m not usually that hungry. I just eat whenever the other waitresses grab me to sit down for lunch or dinner with them.”

If anything, that seemed to make the doctor’s frown deepen. “Are you unhappy with your appearance, Miss O’Connor?”  

“Um...no?” Buffy frowned, glancing down at her body and shaking her head. Then with a start she looked back at her body again and demanded, “Hey! Where’s my uniform?”

“The nurses thought you’d sleep more comfortably in that,” the doctor replied, her tone mild. “Your clothing, will, of course, be returned to you when you check out.”

“I never checked in!” Buffy protested, a bit worried at any background checks they might have run on her for her medical information and such with her as a patient, but hoping that Angel was right and his spell still worked on anyone that used his surname and wanted to remain unnoticed. And absolutely certain she’d never voluntarily changed into the stupid hospital gown.  

“Yes, you did. For the transfusion, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Buffy frowned, shaking her head. “But I don’t need medical attention. I’m fine.”

“You were unconscious for nearly twelve hours, Miss O’Connor. Have you not been sleeping well?”  

“Twelve—Is Charlie okay?” Buffy demanded, her eyes flying to the concerned Eppes’, who were standing a little ways away, closer to Charlie’s bed. “I’m so sorry, I—”  

“No, no, dear,” Missus Eppes quickly reassured her, coming over to take one of Buffy’s hands in her own. “He’s fine. You saved him.”  

“Yes. I dare say you did,” Doctor Helge conceded with a kind smile, before shaking her head again. “We didn’t need to wake you for anything concerning Doctor Eppes. His health has steadily improved since the transfusion. As you can see for yourself,” she nodded to the other bed, and Missus Eppes moved a little so that Buffy could have a clear view of Charlie.  

He was still pale, but looked mostly healthy. He was breathing regularly. There were bandages around his head, neck, right shoulder, and maybe his ribs, though she couldn’t see that clearly because he was covered in blankets. But except for that, and all of the equipment attached to him, he looked like he was sleeping peacefully.  

“Tha-That’s good.” Buffy murmured, after a moment’s silence. Then her mind suddenly catching on to the significance of ‘unconscious for twelve hours’ after giving blood in the early morning hours, and she frowned as she blurted out, “What time is it?”  

The doctor glanced at the watch on her wrist before replying, “Almost three o’clock,” she moved forward to help Missus Eppes keep Buffy in bed as she struggled to get up. “What are you doing?”  

“I have to get to work! I’m already late!”  

“No. You need to rest.” The doctor said firmly. “I can call your supervisor myself, if that would make you feel better, but you will certainly not be going to work today. Or any of the next few days, probably.”  

Buffy stared at her for a few seconds before shaking her head, her frown deepening as she protested. “What? Why? I feel fine! And I need the money.”  

“You need to rest, Miss O’Connor. And eat. By your own admission you’ve unknowingly lost a dangerous amount of weight in a short amount of time due to your poor eating habits.”  

“I did not!”  

“Anne. Anne, please,” Missus Eppes placed a gentle hand on her cheek, turning Buffy’s panicked face towards her as she continued. “Listen to Doctor Helge. I can’t thank you enough for saving Charlie, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”  

“But I...” Much of her strength seemed to leave her, leaving Buffy’s protests weak. “I need to go to work.”  

“Doctor Helge said she would call your boss for you. And you’ll have a hospital note when you return, so legally they can’t fire you for missing work.”  

“But,” Buffy shook her head again. “I-I won’t even be able to pay for whatever bills I have from last night if I miss too much work.”

“I’m sure your paren...” Missus Eppes paused, shaking her head decisively. “No. My husband and I will take care of your hospital bills. You’re here because you saved our Charlie, after all.”  

“That’s right,” Mister Eppes agreed, stepping up beside his wife to smile down at the pretty blonde. “Don’t worry about any of that, dear.”

Buffy sighed, lying back a bit as she offered another half-hearted protest. “I hate hospitals.”  

Doctor Helge laughed, “I know, you told me as much last night, remember?” she asked, a warm smile crossing her face for a moment, before subsiding a bit as she continued. “Unfortunately, I can’t agree to you going home by yourself until you get your weight up to an acceptable level.”  

“How long will that take?”  

“That really depends on you. On how much you eat and rest," the doctor told her. "If you want to get out of here soon, you need to concentrate on getting better.”  

“Couldn’t I... I don’t know. Go home and come back a few times, for check-ups?" Buffy tried. "I promise I’ll try to eat more. And rest. I’ll rest a lot better at home.”  

“I can’t agree to that, Miss O’Connor. At least not until you’ve put a bit of weight on. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t had some kind of problems before now. Have you?”  

“What kind of problems?”  

“Dizziness? Fainting spells? Random bouts of weakness?”  

‘All things Slayer-healing would handle before they became problematic, or even noticeable. Especially since I haven’t been patrolling.’ Buffy realized with a frown. “No,” she told the doctor. ‘Of course, being the Slayer may be the problem. I haven’t been patrolling or working out, so it hasn’t been directed at anything, like Giles—and Merrick both—said it needs to be. I wonder if that’d actually do something...’ She shook her head slightly, looking up at the doctor again to ask, “I haven’t been exercising as much as I used to. So I’ve probably lost some of the muscle I used to have. Could that be what the weight loss was?’  

Doctor Helge frowned, shaking her head. “Well, it might have been some of it, but highly doubt you’ve lost twenty pounds of muscle in a few weeks, dear. While you might be able to gain that much if you really worked at it, you wouldn’t be able to lose it that quickly, especially without noticing the loss.”  

“Oh.” Buffy said, as she thought, ‘Well, I really can’t ask her about my mystical powers.’ She sighed, shaking her head again. “Couldn’t you send me home with a list of meal requirements an-and maybe a schedule, or something like that? I really don’t want to stay here.”  

Before the doctor could respond, Missus Eppes cut in. “If I may, doctor, could Anne come home with us when Charlie’s discharged?”

Doctor Helge paused for a long moment, before nodding. “That might work better. If you’re comfortable with it, Miss O’Connor. I don’t like the idea of you going home by yourself where you could pass out or something similar without anyone noticing. And I’m sure that Mister and Missus Eppes could help you with your diet.”  

“Sure we could!” Mister Eppes confirmed with a wide smile. “My Maggie makes some of the best family meals you’ll find anywhere!” he told them, shrugging at the amused look his wife shot him. “And I make some mean rib-eyes, myself.”  

“Alan,” Missus Eppes shook her head with a fond smile, before nodding to the doctor. “If you gave us some kind of guideline I’m sure we can work it out.” She then turned to Buffy again. “Would that be all right with you, Anne?”  

Buffy looked around at the three watching adults uncertainly, shrugging as she replied, “I-I wouldn’t want to impose.”  

“It wouldn’t be an imposition at all, dear,” Missus Eppes assured her. “We have a guest room back at the house. Two, actually, since our eldest moved out. And we have plenty of room. Actually,” she smiled warmly at Buffy, “I think it’d be rather fun. I haven't had another girl living with me since my roommate in college, it'll be nice not to be alone with the boys for a bit.”  

“What, those long weekends skiing or kayaking with your friends don’t count?” Mister Eppes asked his wife with a raised eyebrow, his shaking head and smile telling them that he was joking even as he turned his smile towards Buffy. “But it would be nice. It’d give us some idea of what it might be like to have a daughter, too.”  

“There is that,” Missus Eppes laughed, smiling brightly as she raised an eyebrow at Buffy.  “Would that be alright with you, dear?”  

“Well, um. O-Okay.” Buffy agreed, deciding that there really wasn’t any way the Council could trace her to the Eppes anyway.

At least she didn’t think they kept track of hospital records for vampire attacks. Giles mostly seemed to just watch the obituaries for the most part. And since Charlie had already been targeted by vampires in an area that didn’t see many of them—something she probably should have questioned Whistler about—she would like to keep an eye on him for a little while anyway. Just to make sure he hadn’t recently become a vampire or demon magnet, like Xander.

“If it’s okay with you. An-And Charlie. And Don? If it’s okay with your whole family.”   

Missus Eppes laughed softly, the merry sound momentarily filling the small room with warmth as she shook her head. “I’m sure Charlie won’t mind at all, dear. And Donnie won’t mind either, if he does come to visit for a bit.” She paused, frowning slightly as she asked. “Did you get a hold of him before? I tried his office after our plane landed, but they said he was out in the field and won’t be available for some time.”  

Buffy shook her head, frowning. “No. I left him a voicemail but he didn’t call...” she stopped abruptly as she remembered just how long she’d been asleep and her eyes flew to the doctor. “He didn’t call, did he?”   

Doctor Helge shook her head, “I don’t think so, dear. And if he’d called the hospital I would’ve been notified. And the nurses had the cell phone at their monitoring station, just in case.” At the expectant looks she was still receiving from all three of the conscious people in the room, she shook her head. “I’ll have the nurses bring it back, of course, but I doubt he called. As I said, I would've been notified.”  

“Thank you, doctor,” Missus Eppes nodded, before shaking her head and smiling at the concerned expression on Buffy’s face. “Oh well, no harm done. I’m sure we’ll get a call from him soon enough, he’ll want to know how Charlie’s doing.” She shook her head again, sighing. “I just didn’t want to declare a family emergency and have him pulled from an active case.”  

“He wouldn’t have minded, dear,” Mister Eppes told her, his tone gentle but firm.  

His wife nodded, “I know. But he’s so dedicated to his work that I know he wouldn’t like dropping everything—”  

“He would, for his brother.” Mister Eppes cut in again, his face looking a little harder than before. “We raised him well enough to expect that, at least.”  

“I-I think you must have done a pretty good job,” Buffy cut in, a little uncomfortable at the tension she could feel coming from the pair.

That was another Slayer-power that had been growing over the last few months. After the possession-incident with Angelus and all of the events surrounding Angel and Angelus, it was kind of hard not to notice. Though her own pain had mostly kept the emotions of others at bay.

She shrugged when the three adults looked at her again, and shook her head slightly to clear it. “I-I mean, he’s a federal agent, right? That’s a pretty self-sacrificing job.”

Sure, most of the cops in Sunnydale seemed to be idiots, but they couldn’t all be like that, right?  

“It is,” Doctor Helge agreed, her voice warm and gentle even as both of the Eppes’ seemed to start, apparently having forgotten her presence by the door. “I’ve met a number of police officers and federal agents while working as a doctor. They’re usually very dedicated, very intense individuals.” At the slightly skeptical look she could read on Mister Eppes’ face she shrugged. “I’m not saying I liked all of them, they can be awful pushy, too. But their jobs are just as important as mine, if not more so. While I can only struggle to help victims of all kinds of attacks heal, they try to prevent the victimization in the first place and make sure the people responsible are put away.”  

“Yes, they do,” Missus Eppes agreed softly, patting Buffy’s hand as if she could feel the Slayer’s discomfort at being caught in the middle of this conversation. “Alan and I just worry about him, that’s all.” Then shooting her husband a wry look, she added. “And Alan has some bad memories from the seventies.”  

“Don’t we all?” Doctor Helge shook her head, and a heavy silence seemed to hang around the three adults before Buffy decided to break it.

“You’re sure Charlie’s all right though?” she asked quietly, glancing towards him again. “Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”  

“His body’s still recuperating, dear. I’m sure he’ll be awake soon. You don’t mind staying in the hospital till he does?”  

“No. No, I can wait here for him,” Buffy agreed quickly, pointedly ignoring the amused look in the doctor’s eyes. Though a part of her wasn’t sure it was the best idea for her to keep herself cooped up here, another part of her really didn’t want to leave.  

“Good, then,” Doctor Helge smiled as she stepped closer to the door, turning slightly as if to leave before telling them, “I’ll have the nurses bring some lunch trays up and I’ll be back to check on you and Charlie in an hour or two. Call for a nurse if he wakes sooner, and they’ll page me, okay?” At their nods she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Would you like some lunch as well, Missus Eppes? Mister Eppes?”

“We’d love some, thank you,” Missus Eppes replied, shooting her husband a look that silenced him when it looked like he might protested.

Of course, from what she remembered hospital food in Sunnydale tasting like Buffy really couldn’t blame him. She did hope it was better here, though. Otherwise the doctor might never let her leave!   Then the doctor left, almost closing the door behind her but leaving it slightly ajar for the nurses.

Buffy waited a moment, then murmured quietly, “I’m sorry.”  

Missus Eppes frowned, “For what, dear? About your weight? That’s hardly—”  

“No,” Buffy shook her head, blushing. “I didn’t know about that. I-I meant about having to take care of me and for lying about-about me being Charlie’s girlfriend.”  

Both Eppes stared at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing.  

Maybe it was a strange thing to apologize for when she’d just saved their son’s life. But she’d saved so many people before him, and couldn’t remember receiving a ‘thank you’ from any of them. Even Willow and Xander never thanked her.

The first time she’d saved Willow the redhead had been too upset about their friend, Jessie, and finding out about the supernatural or else she probably would have said ‘thank you’ at least once. Xander, on the other hand, seemed to follow Giles' line of thinking, which the P.T.B and Whistler also shared: Buffy was The Slayer, it was her job. And really it was. So the idea that they wouldn’t mind the fib and that they’d want to repay her somehow kind of baffled her.  

After a few moments of silence, with the elder Eppes catching their breath after laughing so hard, Buffy remembered another thing that had been mentioned earlier. “Wait—Charlie’s only nineteen, isn’t he?”  

“Yes, dear,” Missus Eppes replied, a small smile on her face as she continued before Buffy could ask the question she saw coming. “And yes, he really is a doctor. Not a medical doctor, mind you. He has a doctorate in applied mathematics.”  

Buffy's brow furrowed in puzzlement. “So he’s, like, a college professor?”  

“He hopes to become one,” Mister Eppes cut in, smiling softly. “He actually just got his doctorate a few weeks ago,” the older man shook his head ruefully. “Now he’s thinking about getting a second doctorate.”  

Buffy blinked, “Why?”  

“You see?” Mister Eppes nodded towards her, his eyes on his wife. “Donnie and I aren’t the only ones that think that’s crazy.”  

Missus Eppes rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she replied. “Charlie likes to learn, dear. Loves it really.” She sighed as she continued. “And, really, academia is the only world he knows and is comfortable in. So it doesn’t surprise me at all that he wants to either get a job in it or remain a student himself. In fact, even he gets the job offer he’s hoping for, I’m pretty sure he’ll keep taking classes to work towards another doctorate.”  

“You’re probably right,” Mister Eppes agreed with a nod, sighing as his eyes shot towards his son for a moment, before he shook his head.

“I-I thought it took years to get that. To become a doctor, I mean,” Buffy shook her head in confusion as both adults looked at her. “And that’s after regular college, isn’t it?”  

“Normally, yes,” Missus Eppes confirmed, her voice warm and understanding as she explained. “But Charlie went through the school system very quickly. We hired special tutors for him until he was eight, though he went to regular elementary school to interact with his peers. When he was nine, he skipped several grades and started high school. He graduated when he was thirteen, the same day as his older brother. Then he went to Princeton, and he finished his doctorate in applied mathematics this year.”  

Buffy glanced at Charlie again, trying not to stare and pointedly turning back towards his proud parents, “Wow, that’s—wow. So he’s a genius?”

Both Eppes laughed, and Mister Eppes nodded. “To put it mildly, yes. Actually a lot of geniuses find him overwhelming.”  

The three chatted for a while after that, Buffy reluctantly forcing herself to eat the whole meal that one of the nurses set before her under Missus Eppes’ watchful eyes as they talked about Los Angeles, Charlie’s schooling, Buffy’s—very light—background, and so on. Buffy made a continual effort to redirect the conversation to the Eppes family whenever possible, not wanting to lie to them but not willing to entire tell the truth about herself either. A part of her wished she wasn’t stuck here, as one, she hated hospitals in general, and two, she wasn’t used to spending time with victims and their families after saving them. But another part of her, after several weeks on her own, drifting from day to day in mindless nothingness found the pleasant small talk nice and she slowly started to find herself rather pleased with the idea of staying with this nice family instead of going home to her rundown, cold and lonely apartment.  

Unknown...

Charlie's P.O.V.

Charlie couldn’t quite grasp where he was.

Wherever it was though, it was very white, as that was really the only thing he could see: bright, white light. And gravity didn’t seemed to have any existence here, because he felt like he was floating, except in air instead of water, as his feet had no purchase on the ground.

Maybe he’d somehow gone to outer space? That was the only place he could think of where the lack of gravity feeling would make sense.

But the last place he remembered being was home.  

That’s right.

He was working on a math problem.

And three girls interrupted him. Knocked on the front door around one o’clock in the morning. They were lost and wanted to use the phone. They looked harmless, so he invited them in.  

...And then they became monsters. Monsters with inescapable grips and fangs.

Fear and pain in the shadows.  

Then light, as he suddenly found himself falling free.

The pain of fangs in his neck—sucking out his blood—gone, the air around him polluted by dust.  

An angel, he’d thought. With golden hair and emerald eyes. “I’ll be right back,” she’d said.

And she came back with flashing lights and chaos. He could barely see her in the darkness, but he knew the small, warm hand that was holding his in a gentle, firm grip was hers. He thought the faint smell of roses his nose was catching might be her perfume.

That scent and that touch were enough reassurance for his mind to relax, for his eyes to cold and rest.  

And now he was here.

But where was ‘here’?  

He really hoped this wasn’t heaven.  

He wasn’t ready to be dead yet: he still had too much to do with his life.

And he didn’t want to leave his Mom or Dad.

Or Donnie, he wanted to repair his relationship with Donnie. A relationship that could barely be called that since he’d started high school with him.  

Plus an eternity of white light and weightlessness would just be boring. Boring enough to count as some level of Hell, he’d think. And he didn’t think he’d done anything in his life to merit being sent there.  

“No you haven’t,” an unfamiliar male voice told him, and if Charlie had been standing—or had any real awareness of his physical body beyond the fact that it was weightless and touching nothing—he would have jumped.  

He tried to look around. But again, all he saw was bright, white light.  

“Sorry. I’m not really allowed in your head. Even talking to you like this is kinda pushing it. Just thought you might like to know that you can wake up now.” The unfamiliar voice told him, before insisting, “Really! That’s all I’m telling him! And he really can wake up now.”

"Excuse me?” Charlie asked, confused.  

“Sorry again, I, uh, I wasn’t talking to you that time. I was talking to your—well, not you. Do you think you could try waking up?”  

“How do I do that?”  

“Tell your over-protective and newly-empowered subconscious that you want to.” 

“What?”  

“Do you want to wake up anytime soon?”  

“Yes, but...” Charlie paused, confused as a sinking feeling settled in his stomach and the white light started to fade. “What’s—”  

“Good, good. You’re waking up now. So I should go before your—uh, friend, attacks me. Take care of her, alright?”  

Charlie tried to shake his head even as the light completely disappeared and something inside him decide the strange voice was gone. “Take care of who?”  

Los Angeles, California – Monday, June 3, 1996 – early evening...

Buffy's P.O.V.

Buffy was the first to notice when Charlie started to wake up a little after six o’clock that evening.

She’d watched as his parents fussed over him, shaking her head in sympathy as she could sense just how confused he was at how well acquainted his parents seemed to be with his roommate. But then again, he was also pretty confused by the fact that they were there at all, as they’d been in Paris the last time he’d been awake. And—even after nearly almost fifteen hours of unconsciousness—he was still absolutely exhausted. 

She frowned in concern when he finally, really, looked at her and froze, staring. “Is-Is something wrong?”  

“You—the angel?” Charlie murmured quietly, starting when his mother put a gentle, concerned hand on his shoulder even as Buffy fought back the onslaught of emotion the word ‘Angel’ wrought inside her mind.  

“What was that, sweetheart?” Missus Eppes—who wanted to be called ‘Maggie’—asked him.  

“I-I...” Charlie took a deep breath before continuing. “I remember seeing you. When I was lying there. I-I thought you were an angel,” he told her with a small smile, his blush matching Buffy’s as both his parents chuckled. After their warm chuckles died down he met her gaze again, and the warmth in his chocolate-brown eyes made her breath catch. “Thank you.”  

Buffy blinked at him for a moment, shaking her head. “I-I didn’t—”  

“Thank you for saving me. An-And for being there,” he smiled brightly at her, making her breath catch again. “You were holding my hand, weren’t you?”  

“...Yeah,” Buffy nodded a bit unsurely.  

“Thank you.” His smile suddenly faded as his eyes flew over her form, which was mostly hidden by the blankets the hospital staff had encased her in. “Wait. Wha-What happened to you? Did they hurt you?”  

“No! No,” Buffy shook her head quickly. “I’m fine. I guess the shock just caught up with me after I gave blood and I was out of it a little longer then they liked, so now they’re holding me prisoner. Except without bars and shackles and—yeah.”  

“Gave blood?” Charlie tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes trailing to the bandage on his arm and then to the one on hers. “You gave me blood?” he frowned, “Why didn’t the hospital—”  

“The hospital apparently ran out of your blood type,” Mister Eppes—who Buffy was supposed to call ‘Alan’—told his son, as he gave Buffy a warm smile. “So Annie here, who happens to be your type, volunteered.”  

“She did,” Mrs. Eppes confirmed, a warm smile on her face as well. “The doctor said it probably saved your life. Which, again, we can’t thank you enough for, dear.”  

Buffy looked down, blushing as she mumbled, “I-I didn’t do that much.”  

“Yes. You did. You saved our Charlie’s life twice last night, Annie,” Mister Eppes told her with a frown, gently waving a admonishing finger at her. “So I don’t want to hear even one word of modesty pass your lips for at least a week, all right? If you must be modest, just say ‘your welcome’ and nod a lot.”  

Charlie was chuckling at his father’s demands, but he frowned as his brain caught part of what he’d said. “A week?” he looked at Buffy again. “You’re going to be here for a week? What—”  

“No,” Missus Eppes cut in, shaking her head slowly from side to said and drawing his attention to where she sat in between the two beds. Her husband had drawn a chair up to the end of Charlie’s bed, but she’d wanted to be closer to both of them, which probably meant she had to move every time a nurse wanted to check anything but that wasn’t the sort of thing that seemed to faze Margaret Eppes. “Annie will be coming home with us for a bit. Apparently she hasn’t been eating as much as she should, so giving blood wasn’t the best of ideas. But we’ll have her fixed up in no time.”  

“Uh—um. Okay,” Charlie nodded, then smiled brightly at Buffy again. “Well, I guess that means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other for a while, won’t we?” he glanced down, biting his lip for a second before glancing up again and adding. “I’m glad.”  

Buffy met his eyes for a few moments, before nodding slightly. “Me too.”    

Chapter Text

Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to CBS. (NOT ME!!!)

First Meeting

Part 1 in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Chapter 3: What Goes Bump In The Night?

Part 1.

Eppes’ House, Pasadena, California – Friday, June 20^th .

Buffy’s P.O.V.

Buffy sighed, glancing towards the door the led from the garage to the kitchen, now closed. When Charlie had asked her to come out here to help him with something, she had kind of been expecting this. A part of her had been expecting it since the day he woke up—and actually remembered her. Another part had been hoping his brilliant brain suffered at least one of the failings common to so many of their race: the inability to believe in magic and all that goes bump in the night. He’d certainly seemed innocent enough… but it seemed that was not to be.

“Please, Annie,” Charlie murmured quietly after she’d been silent for several long moments. “Just help me understand.”

Buffy smiled slightly at the nickname the Eppes family had given her almost as soon as it had been decided that she would be living with them. Alan Eppes liked to shorten and rhyme all of his loved ones names, so his wife was ‘Maggie,’ his eldest son, Don was ‘Donnie,’ his youngest was ‘Charlie,’ and Anne had very quickly become ‘Annie’ from him. Seeing that she didn’t mind, his wife and son were quick to follow suit with the endearment. As she met Charlie’s pleading brown eyes, the smile faded. “Charlie… You really don’t want to know. It’s kind of… you really aren’t likely to see anything… like that again. You don’t need to know.” She shook her head and hurried on when he opened his mouth to protest, a somewhat familiar, stubborn frown settling itself on his brow. “Please, Charlie. Can’t you just take my word for it?”

“I...” Charlie paused in thought, remaining silent again for several long moments before he shook his head decisively. “I’m sorry, Annie. I really am. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t!” he replied firmly, shaking his head again as that fierce frown took over the rest of his face. “It’s been two weeks since we left the hospital and I… I can’t stop thinking about that night! I need to understand, Anne… I’ve tried to ignore everything that doesn’t make sense about that night.” He paused, shaking his head again as he continued. “And I’ve tried to figure it out by myself. Neither worked...” He grabbed one of her hands gently, walking around her slightly as she tried to turn away, to maintain eye contact. “You’re the only one I know that can help me with this, Annie. Please, help me.”

Buffy sighed, looking into his deep, bright eyes, shaking her head slightly as she replied. “There’s no going back after you know, Charlie. Believe me, I’m still trying… and it’s not working.” She placed a finger over his lips to silence him when he went to speak again, shaking her head firmly. “You have no idea how much knowing will change for you… Right now, the world makes sense to you, doesn’t it?” She gestured to an open notebook that lay forgotten on a nearby chair, something he was probably working on not too long ago but had lost interest in since the attack. “Your Mom said you can explain almost anything with math. And math always makes sense to you. So the world, as you know it, must make sense to you.”

Truthfully, she had no idea how anything in life – particularly human nature – could be that predictable. But even when she had focused on her studies in school – a time some years past – her mind never would have been on par with Charlie’s and she supposed the Powers That Be must do something similar all the time. Though they’d definitely screwed up the most recent apocalypse-in-the-making...

Charlie nodded slightly in agreement, before shrugging his shoulders, his reply forcing her attention back to the much less painful present. “But it’s all a lie, isn’t it?”

“No!” Buffy shook her head forcefully, sending some of her golden hair flying from side to side behind her. “No. It’s not a lie. It wouldn’t work if it was a lie, would it?”

“Maybe.” Charlie nodded. “But it’s not the whole truth, is it? My world view is incomplete. So the data I work with is incomplete, and my conclusions are as well.”

“But it works, doesn’t it? Before last Tuesday night, you were happy with your world as it was, weren’t you?”

“Yes… But now that I know something else is out there, I want… no, I need to know what it is.”  He caught her chin in one gentle hand as she tried to turn away again, gently forcing her to meet his eyes. “Please help me, Annie.”

Buffy stared at him for several long moments, meeting his earnest expression head on and letting the Slayer rise up to inspect him – as it had inspected Willow and Xander, and even Giles and Merrick, and others at different point in time – before sighing as it drew back with what felt like approval even as she watched Charlie almost – almost – take a step back as a part of him sensed the all too potent shift in her being. Of course, the Slayer seemed to approve of that reaction too, it fed Her colossal ego and it proved that his subconscious at least did have enough common sense to stand a chance at surviving the supernatural world. After receiving the Slayer’s evident approval, Buffy sighed, resigning herself to answering his questions and introducing him to her world, but still not liking it one bit. “How much do you want to know?”

“Everything!” Charlie immediately insisted, his chocolate gaze bright and eager like a puppy that had just realized it could win treats by staring at people and whimpering.

Buffy smiled slightly at his enthusiasm, but her smile faded again as she started to reply. “What do you remember?”

 Charlies P.O.V.

“About the attack?” Charlie frowned, but sighed as he received a nod in return. He closed his eyes, struggling to call up as many of the details as possible before opening them again to respond, his mind still turned inward to memories of that night. “I… I talked to my parents on the phone around ten PM. They called me after they finished breakfast. Mom told me to go to bed soon...” he felt his cheeks warming slightly at the memory of his mother’s clearly necessary demands, while waiving a hand at a nearby notebook half-full with math notes. “I tend to get caught up in my work, and I agreed, but then I, uh—”

“Lost track of time?”

“Um, yeah… And, then the doorbell rang a few hours later. Just after one AM, I remember ‘cause I looked at the clock as I was going to answer it… I looked through the side window – Don’s always lecturing us on keeping the door locked and checking before we open it and everything. He’s a little paranoid… though I guess not really.”

“He is an FBI Agent,” ‘Annie’s’ soft voice drew Charlie back to the present for another moment, and he nodded in response to her comment and the gentle smile that was gracing her face.

“Yeah… I’m glad Mom didn’t tell him how badly I was hurt.”

At that ‘Annie’ snorted, and when Charlie looked at her in confusion, she told him, “From listening to her talk to him, it sounded more like you’d had a major clumsy moment and knocked a book case over onto yourself.”

Charlie laughed, easily able to imagine his mother spinning such a similar story. “Did she actually say that?”

“Well yeah...‘cept for the bookcase and any real details about how you got hurt...or how badly you were hurt. Mostly you just fell and needed to go to the hospital for a blood transfusion… And somehow a stranger who’s now living with you became involved… That was  ‘bout as clear as she seemed to get from when I was listening.”

Charlie shook his head in bemusement, “I gotta wonder what happened to his phone, though. I mean, he’s an FBI Agent so I doubt he just lost it.”

“Sounded to me like it was broken somehow… though I’d think he should have still gotten my message if the Bureau replaced it right away. Even if he was on the road going after someone for a little while when it was broken.”

Charlie shook his head again, before sighing, “He’s gonna be terrible the next time I talk to him… though I’m glad he won’t be worrying too much.”

“Big brother pretty protective?”

“Yeah,” Charlie shook his head again. “It used to drive me nuts, you know… I skipped a bunch of grades because of… my, uh, gifts. Ended up in high school with Don. We graduated the same year.” He sighed again, moments of some of the worst years in his life coming to the fore of his mind. “I was so excited at first, and so disappointed when Donnie basically wanted nothing to do with me. What teenager wants to hang out with their genius-kid brother?” he asked, nodding in agreement to Annie’s sympathetic wince.

“How much older is Don?”

“He was five when I was born. I was nine when we started high school. Thirteen when we graduated together...” Charlie shook his head again, willing his high school memories to fade into the back of his brain again. “Looking back on it, I can see how hard that must have been for him. But being ignored still really hurt...”

“But he was still an over-protective big-brother?”

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled slightly, shaking his head as more memories came up, these ones better because they were some of the occasions his brother showed interest in him. “I was something of an enigma in high school. Don wouldn’t let anyone bully me, and he was popular, so most people just ignored me. I got teased sometimes, but the few times someone actually tried to bully me in any way, Don set them straight pretty quick...” Charlie frowned sadly again, as this brought some of the people he really hadn’t liked back into his mind. “The only people I had a lot of trouble with were Don’s friends. Some of them really didn’t like me, and as long as they weren’t too open about it and didn’t physically hurt me Don didn’t care if they teased me… so I tended to avoid some of them.”

“He never said anything?” Annie asked.

Charlie looked up to see that she was frowning again and shook his head. “He told them to cut it out a few times, when they got really bad. And I think he might of said something when they were getting really bad from time to time… It seemed to go in cycles like that. They’d tease me a little bit. It’d get worse. Then really bad. And then they’d ignore me for a while. Then it’d start all over again.” Charlie shrugged. “The only times that changed was when someone outside of Don’s friends tried to bully me into doing their homework for them, or letting them cheat off of me in tests, and Don found out. Then he’d be really protective for a while and his friends wouldn’t go near me… The girls were always nice, though.”

Anne raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Charlie shrugged again, “I was a pretty cute little kid, I guess. And I didn’t hit puberty until just before graduation, so was always ‘Don’s cute little-kid brother’ to them. Don didn’t mind that when it meant getting more attention from girls because of me, but it bothered him whenever they paid more attention to me, especially when his friends would hang out at the house with their girlfriends.”

“So you were a chick-magnet?” From her tone of voice, Anne was clearly amused.

“Yeah, I guess,” Charlie shrugged again, his face a little warm. “It was nice, though. ‘Bout the only thing about high school that was… Some of the girls were even smart enough to ask me to tutor them in math. That’s what made me realize I’d like teaching.”

“Has your relationship with your brother improved?” Anne asked, her voice soft again. “Since you graduated five years ago, I mean?”

Charlie shrugged, glancing at the nearby telephone before looking back at Anne again to answer, “I guess… We hung out a bit before we parted ways for college. Don took some went to a school in DC on a baseball scholarship. He got his bachelors in three years there and...” Charlie shook his head. “then he was playing baseball for a while, I think. Never big leagues, though… I didn’t know he’d graduated early cause I was finishing up my thesis paper for my first doctorate then, and Mom said he didn’t want to distract me. I didn’t even go to his graduation.” Charlie sighed, shaking his head again. “Though I guess he really didn’t want me there. Genius-kid-brother taking the spotlight again.”

“Maybe he really didn’t want to distract you, Charlie.” Anne offered, her voice gentle as she caught one of his hands in hers and pulled him closer to her, into a hug. “Your Mom says you get pretty focused when you’re working on something. And you must have been nervous for something that big.”

Charlie shrugged, relaxing a bit in her embrace, “I guess.”

“You went to his graduation from Quantico, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. That was last year, actually.” Charlie smiled at the memory. “It was really cool.”

“And Don invited you to that?”

Charlie nodded again. “Yeah. He told me about it before he left for Quantico. They train their for seventeen weeks. Then they’re Special Agents, I guess… I never really did figure out how that worked.” His smile faded a bit. “I only saw him a few times when we were both back for holidays during school. And I don’t think we’ve talked on the phone more than two or three times since he joined the agency… I think he calls Mom occasionally, but I haven’t spoken to him in months.” Charlie sighed again, his expression downcast before he suddenly frowned, turning a mild glare towards her. “But we’re getting a little off topic.”

“Guess we have. You started it.”

“I d—Oh. I did, didn’t I? Sorry… Uh, anyway, I checked and all I saw standing outside on the porch were three blonde girls. One looked about fifteen. The other two were younger… I think.” Charlie shook his head. “I know with the time of night I should have been suspicious of something, but...they just looked so harmless! So I opened the door to ask them what they needed and they said they were trying to find a friend’s house that was supposed to be nearby, but they’d passed my house several times already and were wondering if they could use my phone to get directions… I offered to try to give them directions myself, but they didn’t know a specific address or any landmarks I really recognized, so I said they could come in to use the phone...”

Buffy’s P.O.V.

“That’s a big no, no.” Buffy cut in as Charlie paused, holding a hand up to forestall his equivalent of an indignant ‘no duh!’ before he could say anything. “I mean the invite. Never verbally invite anyone inside your home, especially at night. Say something like ‘it’s open,’ or ‘are you gonna stay out there all night?’ not ‘come in’ or ‘welcome.’ Or, if you can manage it, don’t say anything. Just open the door and step aside, that’s the easiest one. That way your visitor knows you want them to come in, but a vampire won’t be able to since it’s not an actual invite.” She paused for a second then shrugged. “Also welcome mats are evil. Don’t ever let your parents put any out.”

“Right...” Charlie nodded, his eyes a little bit distant in thought. “Vampires. Right.”

“Some demons can’t enter a living human’s home without an invite too, but most can. Though a lot of ‘em won’t even bother using doors… And vamps are the big one, since they’re the ones you’re more likely to see on your doorstep.”

“...Demons, too?”

Buffy sighed, shaking her head at the slightly dazed expression on Charlie’s face, taking hold of his arm, she gently drew him over to one of the nearby chairs. “Have a seat,” she ordered, half-pushing him into the chair and half-holding him up to make sure he landed in it gently. Once he was firmly seated she grabbed one of the water bottles they’d brought out with them, opened it and handed it to him. “Take a small sip, and swallow” nodding as he obey she continued, “and again… and again… good.” Taking the bottle back, she screwed the top on and set it on the table again before gently claiming the seat next to him and gently taking hold of one of his hands. When he finally looked at her again, his expression a little less dazed, she raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

That seemed to mostly snap him out of it, and he nodded. “Y-Yeah… Vampires? Demons?”

“You do remember one of the girls grabbing you and biting your neck right? ...You remember how quick she was? How strong? And the fact that you nearly died from blood loss that night despite the fact that there were only two little holes in your neck and there was barely any blood around you and only a little on your shirt afterwards?”

“...Y-Yeah. I remember. It’s just… vampires.”

Buffy laughed, offering a smile as she nodded sympathetically. “Well, this has kind of been my life for the past few years, but I do remember the shock of finding out. Don’t worry, it’ll pass. Like I said, it’ll change a lot about how you view the world, but you’re a human being, you’ll adapt.” ‘Or intentionally forget,’ she thought, but didn’t say, considering that was the way most vamp-victims reacted to the experience. But then again, most victims didn’t come to her afterwards and ask what the hell happened to them.

Charlie was silent for a while after that, and Buffy let him think, watching as he seemed to stare at nothing for a few minutes. And then watching as he brought a hand up to rub his neck, only to make himself wince as he applied a little too much pressure to the newly formed scar. That seem to bring him back to himself again and his eyes met hers again as his hand dropped away from his neck. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just… I guess it’s because I’m a scientist at heart. I’m used to being able to explain anything with math and logic but...” he shrugged a bit sheepishly, “vampires and demons are a bit out there for me.”

“I remember the feeling,” Buffy murmured in reply, sighing. She was silent for a long moment before she met his eyes again. “There are times the demony parts of the world still give me the wiggins, but… I guess you get used to it after a while. It doesn’t seem to bother Giles, at least. And it didn’t bother Merrick.”

“Who are they?”

Buffy sighed at the softly spoken question. “Watchers. My Watchers. Merrick is the one that found me here in LA, told me my destiny. Got me ready. Sent me out...”

“Destiny?”

“...Yeah.” Buffy paused for a moment, before shaking her head and meeting Charlie’s eyes again. “I’m the Slayer. The one girl in the world Chosen to stop the spread of evil.”

Charlie nodded in thought for several moments before murmuring, “I guess that’s, uh, why we’re still around?”

“Huh?”

“Well, most people think mankind’s the top of the food chain. But from what you’re saying we’re really not. Vampires eat us. And demons...do they?”

“Not really. Some do. Most of the bad ones either just don’t like humans and want to kill us all or they just really like killing. Or both. Actually the last two are much easier to fight then the first in groups. Easier to turn them against each other. And vampires don’t eat us, per say. They drink our blood.”

“The results the same, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah… You know you’re actually taking this really well. Most people just don’t remember. Those that do usually take a while to process it. And I get a lot of shocked silences and stupid questions.”

“Whereas I’m asking smart-questions?” Charlie asked with a small, amused smile.

“Um, yeah.”

Charlie shook his head, wincing as his wound ached again before frowning and asking. “Well, this one’ll probably sound stupid to you. But...will I become a vampire?”

“You’re not dying.”

“But when I do… Say I get hit by a car tomorrow, will I wake up a vampire?”

“Actually, since you still have some of my blood in you, you might survive getting hit by a car – but that’s not the point. And no.” Buffy shook her head. “To become a vampire they have to suck your blood. And then you have to suck their blood. It’s a whole big sucking thing. Mostly, they’re just gonna kill you.”

“Oh. Th-That’s...uh, good. Wait, what do you mean, about your blood?”

“I’m The Slayer.”

“...Yes. You said that… What does that actually mean?”

Buffy sighed again. “It means I’m suppose ta protect humanity from everything that goes bump in the night. For the most part, it’s a lot of vampires. But there are a bunch of demons everywhere too. There are just a lot more vampires… But I was Chosen by the Powers That Be—”

“You mean, like… God?” Charlie asked, a clear note of uncertainty in his voice.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Buffy shook her head again. “I just met a representative of theirs a while back, he never actually said...But anyway, they’re some kind of higher power,” she continued, waving vaguely towards the ceiling as she made the reference, “that is responsible for keeping the balance between good and evil here on Earth. As part of doing that they… created the first Slayer, I guess. I don’t know the details around that… but since then, there’s always been a Slayer. One at a time. A girl around my age, or younger, with supernatural strength, speed, agility, senses, immunity to most non-mystical poisons, fast healing powers,” Buffy frowned in thought as she tried to remember it all.

“How do you hunt vampires?”

“Oh! I can also sense anything supernatural… vampires are easier than anything else to find, cause slayer look for them the most. But I can sense demons too. And I have visions.”

“Visions?” Charlie frowned, a strong note of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah. I think the PTB send ‘em to me. When I’m sleeping, if they know something really bad is about to happen that they want me to be aware of, they send me a vision… Or maybe all Slayers are somewhat psychic, Giles never did clear that up.” Buffy raised an eyebrow at his expression. “Don’t believe in psychics?”

Charlie shrugged, a small frown still set on his face. “I suppose I should reevaluate some of my beliefs but… stuff like that has always seemed so fake to me.”

“Stuff like psychics and...?”

“...Numerology. Spiritual values and all of that tied to numbers...” Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just, in my mind, math is an exact science.”

“So the spirituality stuff bothers you.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Buffy smiled, nodding. “Well, I’m not sure if it’ll help, but I can tell you we actually have souls for sure.”

Charlies P.O.V.

Charlie blinked at the revelation. He cocked his head slightly to the side, but had to abort the motion partway through as it made his neck scream in painful protest, but he still stared at ‘Annie’ in interest. “How do you know that?” he asked, a dozen possibilities flying through his mind before she even began answering.

“When one vamp makes another vamp, some bits of the former human’s personality may still be there: specific characteristics, speech patterns, they usually even have some memories of the human life. But that’s only because that is still, I think, in the physical brain. My Watcher, Giles, says when a vampire decides to turn you, your soul passes on to...somewhere. We’re not sure where. Angel thought it was some kind of limbo, but he barely remembers it. Then the demonic soul takes possession of the human body as a vampire. Driven more by demonic blood lust thank anything else.”

“Who’s Angel?” Charlie asked, his mind immediately flying to his memory of her even as he watched her skin pale and eyes widen, suddenly full of pain for several long moments before she seemed to shake herself out of it and looked away as she answered

“Angel… Angel was a vampire who’s soul was restored.”

“Restored? How?”

“He was turned about two and a half centuries ago. Became a really nasty master vamp called Angelus. He and some of his kindred were call the Scourge of Europe… then he fed off a gypsy princess and the gypsy clan cursed him with the restoration of his human soul, to make him feel remorse for what he’d done.”

“But...” Charlie shook his head in confusion, common sense and a few classes in psychology not following where this story was going. “He wouldn’t have had any control over the vampire’s actions, would he?”

“No,” Annie shook her head, clear irritation in her tone and on her face clashing with some degree of what appeared to be relief at his observation. “And it wasn’t a very good punishment. Demons don’t feel grief or remorse. And the human soul is innocent of the demon’s crime. By forcing his soul back they made him suffer for what the demon had done in his body, and to live the life of a vampire, the only one of his kind that would not prey on the innocent for over a century with demon living in his head. Taunting him. Torturing him. And after he goes through all that, he had to find that a single moment of true happiness would break his curse, sending his soul back into limbo and setting the demon free to prey upon the innocent aga—”

Anne stopped abruptly, seeming to suddenly come back to the present, her wide eyes locking with Charlie’s own wide-eyed stare.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You knew him?” Charlie asked softly, reaching out to grab one of her hands as she had released his a short time before. “Annie?”

“Y-Yeah.”  Anne nodded shakily, looking down toward the floor. “I… I loved him, actually.”

“That must have been hard.” When she didn’t answer immediately, Charlie continued, his quick mind seeing how this story must have ended with all the pain this ‘Angel’s’ name clearly brought her. “Loving him and knowing he’s one of the creatures you’re supposed to slay… Did his soul make him feel different at all to you?”

Anne thought about if for several long moments before she nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t notice when I was just comparing him to other fledglings. But when I compared his presence to the Master’s – he was a really old vamp – and when… when I compare it to what Angelus’s presence felt like, there was a really big difference… If a human being is going to attack me, my slay-dar picks up a faint danger signal. When a vamp is going to attack, it’s stronger. A fledgling’s signal is fainter than an older vampires and much fainter than a Master-Vampire’s. Angelus was a very strong Master-Vampire. Angel, unless he was actually angry or when we were sparring, didn’t even feel like a fledgling. He was just… a little more dangerous than a human being. But only just.”

“Still must have been hard.”

“… Yeah. It kind of was. Especially with the way my Watcher and friends reacted to him. Giles and Xander hated him...”

“Why?”

“Because he was a vampire. It was really as simple as that.” Anne shrugged. “I mean, I think on Xander’s side it was partially jealousy at first, since he’d had a crush on me for a while. But the first vampire Xander ever staked was one of his best-friend’s growing up. I think to justify it to himself after that he kept telling himself what Giles had told him that night: that he was not killing his friend, he was killing the monster that had killed his friend. I don’t know. Maybe the idea that Jessie could’ve, maybe, been saved with a soul-spell was too much for him...”

“Could vampires be ‘saved’ that way?” Charlie asked curiously.

Buffy’s P.O.V.

Buffy thought about it a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so… It’s not an easy spell, and there are a lot of vampires in the world. And even if it could be done, I don’t think it would necessarily work.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the ones that have been vamps awhile, it would be a horrible punishment for their human soul. And for the younger ones...” She shook her head again. “I think that might actually be worse. Because even Angel, an older master vampire, had trouble controlling demonic urges from time to time. The bloodlust, sun-phobia, crosses… everything. All it might take to destroy the human soul is a slight loss of control near an innocent. And it’s not like all human beings are innocents, either. I’d rather not stick the legal system with a bunch of vampires with restored human souls that still continue to kill humans.” Buffy paused again, wincing before finishing with, “I mean, regular human murderers get off with insanity-pleas already, don’t they? All a vampire would have to do to prove they have no control of their actions is have someone shove across in their face and say that the demon that’s also inhabiting their body did it.”

“There are evil humans out there,” Charlie nodded in agreement. Thinking of the work his brother’s life now revolved around.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. “And I really don’t think we need to bring them into the supernatural world.”

Charlie nodded slightly then stilled for a moment, his entire focus apparently focused on one thought before he blinked and turned his eyes to hers again. “Annie...Can I – Can we tell my parents about this...please?”

“Have they asked you about the attack?” Buffy asked with a frown, as she hadn’t heard them ask Charlie anything about that night since they’d sat in the hospital room, listening to two LAPD detectives take his statement on the ‘break in.’

“No, but they must wonder—”

“Charlie,” Buffy cut him off gently, shaking her head. “Most people don’t want to know about the supernatural. Most people seem to have this subconscious inclination to avoid it at all costs. Usually when I save people from vampires they’ll thank me at the time, then the next time I see them they’ll ask me if I saw them the night before, because they don’t remember. Cops, when they see links to the supernatural, almost always overlook or over-evaluate every clue that points to the supernatural activity, they make jokes about it or try to rationalize it. Or they just forget about it. The case isn’t solved, it just becomes another cold case that will never be seriously reconsidered or a journalist writes an article about it and attracts a demon hunter. Or the Slayer.”

“But Mom and Dad—”

“Are human too. And they haven’t asked, have they?” Buffy sighed when he shook his head but his expression clearly stated he wasn’t convinced. “If you really need to tell them, we can, but…” she bit her lip, but then made herself look at him and keep going. “When I tried to tell my parents about it, they put me in an asylum for a few months while they got a divorce. And when I brought it up again after my Mom was attacked by a vampire that I staked right in front of her, she kicked me out of the house.”

If anything, this seemed to shock Charlie more than the revelations of vampires and demons. “I’m sorry, Annie.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Buffy replied with a shrug, shaking her head again. “If you really want to tell them, I’d say pick one and tell them by themselves. Don’t tell them together, that gives them the opportunity to deny it together, and reassure each other… From what I’ve seen, your Mom’s more likely to give us the benefit of the doubt on something like this.”

“‘Cause she’s more superstitious then Dad?” Charlie asked with a frown, thinking of some of the times she’d joked about old superstitions and whatnot. That’s all they’d ever been though, jokes.

“Somewhat. But also because I’ve seen her glance at you neck a few times and look at the… where it happened a few times too. I’ve never seen your Dad look at your neck.”

“So she’s… curious?”

“Yeah. Maybe she’s seen some of the supernatural before, and her maternal instincts are making the connection. Maybe it’s something else entirely… but I still think she’s the best choice...” Raising an eyebrow, Buffy then commented. “Though I’m really surprised you haven’t asked for some kind of proof that I’m not nuts already.”

“…What kind of proof could you give me?” Charlie asked, a clear note of hesitation in his voice.

Buffy shrugged again. “I could take you on patrol, I guess. L.A’s not as active as the Hellmouth, but there are still quite a few vamps and demons lurking hereabouts.”

End of Chapter 3: What Goes Bump In The Night? – Part 1

NEXT: Chapter 4: What Goes Bump In The Night? – Part 2

Bye for now! ^_^

Jess S

Chapter Text

Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to CBS. The song World So Cold belongs to 12 Stones. (NOT ME!!!)

Warnings: None that I can think of…

AN: Thanks to my new beta-reader for First Meeting, katgurl , for proof-reading this chapter and helping me get it out so quickly.

First Meeting

Part I in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Chapter 4: What Goes Bump In The Night?

Part 2.

City Streets, Los Angeles, California –  Saturday, June 28.

Charlie’s P.O.V.

Charlie glanced around the dark streets nervously, not at all sure of what he was supposedly to be looking for and as a result stuck following Annie’s lead quite blindly. It was unsettling, but a part of him was excited too. He loved learning new things, and as frightening as the world of the supernatural inherently was, there was nothing that could be perceived as any more unknown to him.

That hadn’t ended up going on this so-called ‘patrol’ for more than a week after he’d finally cornered Annie and learned the truth.

For one thing, Charlie was still supposedly recovering from his injuries.

In all actuality, Annie’s blood had made short work of his injuries. While Charlie hadn’t healed as quickly as Annie would have from such injuries, he had still been better much more quickly than his parents could have imagined or comprehended.

According to Annie, when her body was in peak physical condition it would have made up for the blood loss in very little time: two hours tops, the most severe of her bruises would have faded overnight, and even the concussion would have quickly disappeared.

Charlie hadn’t healed that fast. But he had healed much more quickly then he’d been expecting, and had needed to struggle to keep this fact from his concerned parents, who hadn’t wanted to let him out of their sight.

Nonetheless, a week after their discussion in the garage, he had finally talked his parents into letting him go into downtown LA with Annie. Charlie strongly suspected that the fact that he wanted to go on what sounded to them like date with a pretty girl was a large part of why they’d relented last night and happily waived the two off as they’d left on foot this evening.

They’d eaten a quick dinner at one of the small restaurants in Pasadena before taking a taxi to one of the clubs in LA. Annie somehow knew after only a few moments surrounded by the flashing light and loud music that there were no vampires in that particular club, so they’d left and gone to another club. They’d done this again, and again, before Annie decided they might be better off just walking around like they were now. Charlie wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, the music in the crowed clubs had been awful, on the other, dancing with Annie had been a lot of fun.

“Hey,” Annie’s soft, teasing voice brought his mind back to the present as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and drew his eyes to her again. Her smile was teasing too, but her eyes were serious. “Relax, Charlie. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Charlie blinked, glancing around again before meeting her eyes again. “My common sense disagrees. We’re wandering around dark alleys late at night in the middle of a dangerous city, you know. And we’re looking for monsters that would like to eat us.”

“Yeah,” Annie nodded in agreement, still smiling as she linked arms with him and drew him further down the sidewalk from where he hadn’t realized he’d stopped during his internal monologue. “But you’re doing this with the Slayer. And I really do know what I’m doing, you know. I may be a little rusty, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know that,” Charlie cut in quickly, before shaking his head. “I guess I’m still just trying to process everything...”

“That’s normal,” Annie told him gently, her own eyes taking a slightly introspective look as she continued. “The first few weeks after Merrick told me I was the Slayer I spent a part of almost every patrol questioning my sanity.” Suddenly she tensed, her mind coming back to the present. “Keep your cross and water gun handy,” she ordered, her voice firm as she suddenly released his arm and started… stalking – there was really no other word for it – down the sidewalk towards the next alley. “And stay behind me.”

Charlie froze for a second as his ears picked up sounds from the nearby alley, sending his mind back to his own initial encounter with vampires.

Struggles.

Struggling, unable to move while a figure much smaller than himself but with muscles of steel was holding him firmly in place in a bruising grip.

Gasping.

Gasping as a sharp pain shoots through his neck followed by a heightened sensation of pain and weakness rushing through his body as all his blood seemed to rush towards his neck.

Sobbing.

Sobbing, as his strength waned, his vision began to fade and his breath grew short.

He was suddenly drawn out of his flashback by Annie’s voice, though now her tone was hard and mocking as she stood at the entrance to the alley, gazing inward. “Don’t you boys have anything better to do on a Saturday night?”

As Annie started moving further into the alley with the slow, stalking steps of a predator on the hunt once again, Charlie hurriedly shook himself out of his thoughts and moved to follow her. He heard a male voice snap something back at Annie, but couldn’t make out what they said and a moment later sounds of fighting broke out.

By the time he reached the mouth of the alley the air was filled with stale dust and a figure was running towards him. Without his mind taking any part in the decision, the hand that was holding a large cross suddenly flew up and the vampire that was running towards him stopped abruptly, seeming to fling himself backwards with a snarl just before he exploded into dust.

As the dust settled he blinked and saw Annie turn from obviously having thrown something at the vampire’s back to crouch near a younger teenage girl further down the alley.

After a brief, poignant pause he hurried over to them. “Is she okay?”

Annie looked up and nodded before turning her eyes back to the girl as she responded, her voice surprisingly gentle. “She’ll be fine. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

Charlie watched over the course of the next several moments as Buffy gently coaxed the slightly younger teen to her feet and led her out of the alley. Then he watched in surprise as the girl mumbled a tearful ‘thank you’ before wandering off in a daze. “Shouldn’t we—”

“We’ll follow her,” Annie cut in, before shaking her head. “But she’s already started to suppress it. Our presence isn’t something she wants right now.”

“But she’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, we’ll make sure she gets home all right. And when the sun comes up tomorrow she will have forgotten all about this. Probably assume she got drunk the night before, or something similar.”

“Isn’t… Isn’t she a little young to make that assumption?”

Annie raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s probably fifteen. High school age… You really think a girl like her doesn’t go to the high school and college parties with booze?”

Charlie’s frown deepened as he glanced back at the blonde they were following from a few blocks away before looking back at the blonde next to him. “Should you really be making judgments on blondes?”

Annie laughed, a smiling lighting up her features. “She looks just like me a few years ago and trust me, I knew where the parties were then… Don’t have much time now, of course. But I did then.”

They walked in silence for several moments before Charlie broke it. “How… How long do you usually patrol?”

“When I was doing it regularly on the Hellmouth?” Annie shrugged. “From about eleven o’clock at night or midnight to four or four thirty in the morning… Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep you out that long.”

“Is that why we haven’t seen many vampires?” Charlie asked, glancing at his watch to confirm that it was just past ten o’clock.

“Yeah. It’s still a bit early for them to be out and about… But this isn’t the Hellmouth, either.”

“What’s the Hellmouth?”

Annie’s eyes didn’t move from watching the blonde they were trailing as she responded in a soft, even tone. “It’s a point on Earth that’s connected to a Hell dimension, where some of that evil can leak through into our world, drawing all the baddies to it.”

“There’s more than one?”

Annie frowned but nodded, “I think so. I remember my first Watcher, Merrick, mentioning them at one point. He said ‘Hellmouths’, plural. Never mentioned one was so close, or I probably wouldn’t have moved there after his death. All Giles has ever referred to is the one in Sunnydale, though. So that must be one of the bigger ones.”

“Sunnydale?” Charlie frowned in thought for several moments before nodding, “That’s just a few hours south of here on the freeway, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a Hellmouth there?”

“Yeah. Under the high school.”

Charlie stopped for a moment as his mind hurried to contemplate that strange thought before he noticed his friend drawing away and hurried to catch up with her. “That’s...” he shook his head. “That’s just wrong.”

“On many, many levels, I know.” Annie nodded in agreement, before chuckling softly.

“What?”

“Adds a whole new dimension to the high school is hell idea, though, doesn’t it?”

Charlie chuckled also. “It does at that.” He shook his head after that. “I hated high school, you know. And I was only there for three years.”

“Most people I’ve met weren’t too fond of those years, or still aren’t if they’re going through them.”

“Do you think the school was deliberately built on the Hellmouth, or was the school being where it was—”

“No, the school didn’t create the Hellmouth.” Annie smiled at him. “There’d be a lot more of them if that were the case. And I asked Giles a while back about that. There used to be a Church on top of the Hellmouth. Then it was buried in an earthquake and the school was built on top of it. But the Hellmouth was there first. It was there when the Spanish first came here. Probably before that.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Finally.” Annie muttered, and Charlie looked up to see the blonde they were following hailing a cab. After she’d gotten in and the cab had driven off, Annie turned back to Charlie with a smile. “Okay. Now we just have one more place to go to.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. You’ve only seen vampires, so far, right?”

“Umm… yeah?”

“You still have to see demons, right?”

“Uh… I-I guess?”

“So we have to go to a demon bar.”

Charlie stared at her for a moment before blurting out, “A what?!”

Buffy’s P.O.V.

Buffy smiled slightly at Charlie’s stunned expression as they entered Caritas. Of all the demonic hangouts in the city, this was certainly the safest to take him to, so long as Charlie remembered to listen to the instructions she’d given him earlier. And it definitely had more then enough demons on display… and vampires, she noticed with a little wince before shrugging it aside. “You want something to drink?”

Charlie seemed to shake himself out of his little daze to turn a frown at her. “I’m nineteen. And you’re younger than me. You can’t get alcohol.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I’m younger than you?”

“Annie, there’s no way your even eighteen. I don’t know how you got the doctors to believe otherwise, but I’m not stupid, and my parents aren’t either.”

The Slayer shifted, a bit uncomfortably. “They haven’t said anything… but I never lied to them, or you. I just wrote that I was twenty-something on the hospital records so that they’d let me donate blood.”

“Twenty-something?” Charlie shook his head. “Obviously they weren’t paying much attention.”

“Thanks, I think… so do you want something?” When the older boy shot her a half glare she rolled her eyes. “If I go up to that bar and order two beers, I’ll get two beers,” Buffy told him with a chuckle, nodding towards the bartender that was watching her with a clearly frightened expression fixed on his just as clearly non-human visage. “But I was thinking of getting a diet coke. Want one?”

“Uh, yeah,” Charlie shrugged sheepishly, before reaching for his wallet. “Let me get it.”

“They won’t charge me for it.” Buffy stopped him. “Demon bars never do. They don’t dare.”

“Well in the case of Caritas, baby-doll, I just like you too much to charge you a cent. Not that you ever drink enough for it to matter.”

Buffy turned to the club’s approaching owner with a smile, “Lorne!” she stepped forward to meet him in a hug half-way, still smiling brightly. “How are you?”

“Business was going well this evening,” he raised a green eyebrow at her. “I hope it can continue to do so?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m not hunting, Lorne, Slayers-honor. Just introducing Charlie to all that goes bump in the night.”

“So I see,” the Anagogic demon remarked, smiling as he turned towards Charlie. “And who is this cutie-pie?”

“I’m Charlie Eppes,” Charlie responded quickly, hesitating a moment before offering his hand to shake with the demon.

“Had a recent run-in with a vampire, did you, Charlie?” Lorne questioned as he caught the teenager’s hand and shook it firmly, not releasing it as he tiled his head to the side to scrutinize the young human more closely.

“Uh, ye-yeah. Actually,” Charlie stuttered with a frowned, “Just a few weeks ago.”

“So I see,” the green-skinned demon remarked again, glancing between Buffy and Charlie for a moment before smiling brightly once again. “Well, I am Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan, also known as Lorne and The Host and Owner of Caritas. You are welcome to call me Lorne, of course, provided you swear to make no Lorne Greene jokes in my presence.”

“Uh, um, okay?” Charlie murmured, blinking for a moment before seeming to come to his senses once more. “It’s nice to meet you, Lorne.”

“Swell!” the demon smiled again, giving Charlie’s hand another quick shake before finally releasing it. “And now you must sing for us.”

“Wha-What?”

Buffy suppressed a smirk, forcing a small smile into its place when Charlie looked at her in confusion. “Don’t look at me.”

“Perhaps I should explain, buttercup. See, I’m an Anagogic demon. Means I can read auras, emotions, sometimes minds and futures, too. But only when the being of interest is either in extreme emotional distress or singing. I founded Caritas after arriving just a few months ago, to serve as a safe haven for all and the karaoke helps me get to know my clientele. And a friend of the Slayer is – while also hopefully a friend of mine – a client I want to know well. Therefore you must get up on stage, pick a song, and sing your heart out. Go on.” He gave the befuddled teenager a shove towards the stage.

Buffy nodded when Charlie looked back at her, “Go ahead, Charlie. I’ll be waiting right here,” she reassured him with a smile, honestly curious what Caritas’ Host would see when her new friend sang.

“But-But I don’t sing!” Charlie protested even as several of the other surrounding clientele seemed to catch onto the Host and the Slayer’s directions and started to shove Charlie gently along toward the stage, being particularly gentle after a not-quite-gentle-enough shove early on earned a sharp glare from the Slayer.

“What, and you think he does?” Lorne called after him with a smile, nodding with a wince towards the vampire that was just finishing up a Backstreet Boys song.

Charlie’s P.O.V.

Charlie wasn’t sure what he would have said if anyone had asked him what he was expecting when Annie told him they were going to a bar for demons. But whatever it was, this truly could not be it. The fact that it only took them fifteen minutes to walk to the bar clued him into the fact that it had probably been their destination all evening, which he would later agree made sense after learning that this particular bar was a sanctuary for all demons and supernatural beings.

Of course, the sanctity of the place might be considered debatable if he put too much thought into the orders Annie had given him before they’d entered. Essentially don’t leave the bar without her. Listen to Lorne – someone he’d apparently meet there. Do not make deals of any kind with anyone. Do not wish for anything. For some reason that had required additional emphasis. Don’t go to the bathroom without telling Annie first. And make sure he’s always in her line of sight. Shouldn’t be too hard, since he didn’t plan on leaving without her.

When they walked through the metal detector at the door, it went off on Annie. Probably because she was carrying a large number of weapons, but after sparing the Slayer’s face a second glance, and realizing who she was, the two very large bouncers stepped back and let them through. One of them even bowed to Annie as she passed, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

Other than being very, very large, the bouncers looked mostly human to him. It was only on second glance that he realized that the proportions of their massive forms were a bit off. Their enormous hands were too big. And they were probably seven feet tall. And their eyes were red. Other than that, though, they looked human. Most of the beings inside the bar itself, did not.

Some looked more human than others, with deformities similar to those of the vampire’s he’d seen earlier. Some other disfigurements were significantly more pronounced. Others had green skin. Some actually had scales. A few had fur. Some had horns. There were a few tails wagging on the dance floor. Many had large claws and teeth. And there were a lot of bright, glowing eyes.

The demon that was up on stage, in fact, seemed to be a strange concoction of most of these differences. It had purple, scaly skin and red eyes. Claws and teeth. Red eyes. A lot of fur along its arms. And it did have a tail, and horns… And it was singing about sunshine and roses.

Charlie was still trying to sort everything in this whole part of the world he’d never known about out, but he was definitely starting to understand that Annie was much more than a young, pretty blonde to these ‘demons.’ From the bouncers that’d bowed and made no move to stop her when she set the metal detectors at the door off, to every other strange being in this very, very strange bar.

It was becoming all to clear that Slayers were basically the police, judges, juries and executioners of the supernatural world…

That Caritas’s green-skinned and horned owner wasn’t afraid of Annie was something of a relief. Though anyone—or anything, he guessed—that could wear that flashy suit probably had a lot more confidence than he ever would.

It also helped, though, that Annie had smiled and hugged Lorne when he came up to them. If only because it meant that she was on friendly terms with some demons. And he probably didn’t eat humans, from what she’d mentioned earlier.

How his introduction to the flamboyant demon led to him being the next one up on the karaoke stage though, Charlie didn’t entirely understand. He looked back at Annie again, hoping for a rescue but only received an amused nod again, though this time her smile seemed more honest, if clearly curious.

“Go ahead, Charlie. I’ll be waiting right here.”

As several members of the surrounding clientele began to drag and push him up towards the stage, Charlie struggled to turn slightly and protest, “But-But I don’t sing!”

The Host was smiling as he called back, “What, and you think he does?” with a nod toward the vampire that was just finishing up a Backstreet Boys song.

Charlie winced. Well, he did have a point… but he seriously never sang. He liked music well-enough; he’d just never been drawn to actually attempting it himself. He made instruments to get out of piano lessons as a kid, yeah. And making noise had held the same appeal to him that it had to any other kid his age, but that was the extent of his knowledge.

As he finally reached the stage he licked his lips for a moment at all the eyes that were focused on him before telling himself to act like they were just like the students he helped as a Teacher’s Aid at Princeton last year and might soon be teaching as a professor himself. Then he made himself walk over to the DJ who –looked mostly human… except his skin was orange and his eyes were purple and – was watching him expectantly. “Do… Do you have a list of songs to choose from?”

“Sure, kid,” the demonic-D.J grinned, and Charlie saw his teeth were a bit pointy, too, before his attention was directed to the monitor of the D.J’s laptop as he began to rapidly scroll through songs. “Tell me when ya see somethin.’”

After several moments of scrolling one song finally caught his eye. “That one’s fine, I guess,” he said, pointing it out and received a nod in reply before he was handed a microphone and pushed back up onto the stage.

“‘Words’ll be on the monitor,” the D.J-demon told him and Charlie glanced down to see the song title popping up on said monitor.

“Okay,” Charlie murmured, shrugging his shoulders a bit and trying to shake out the tension that was building there. “I can do this, I can do this...” he shot a glare at Annie but received only an over-bright smile in return before the music started. He tapped his foot for a moment, finding the familiar beat before he finally took a deep breath, brought the mike up to his lips, and started to sing:

It starts with pain, followed by hate

Fueled by the endless questions, No one can answer.

A stain covers your heart, tears you apart, just like a sleeping cancer…

Buffy’s P.O.V.

Buffy smiled at Charlie’s choice as he started to sing. She didn’t know it all that well, but it certainly seemed to fit the past few weeks of the young genius’s life. She glanced at her host and raised an eyebrow at his contemplative look as he watched the genius sing. She could wait for him to finish his inspection before badgering him for details. It helped that Charlie actually had a really good voice… though he needed lessons in breath control, but for a beginner he was still pretty good. Certainly better than all the others that had performed here earlier this evening.

And I don't believe men are born to be killers.

And I don't believe the world can't be saved.

How did you did you get here and when did start?

An innocent child with a thorn in his heart.

“Well,” Lorne murmured quietly, turning to her with a smile as Charlie continued to sing. “I can tell you that you made a pretty good catch this time, if that’s what you want to know.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow, “You’re not just saying that cause he doesn’t sound too bad, unlike some of your earlier performers?”

What kind of world are we living?

Where love is divided by hate.

Losing control of our feelings

We all must be dreaming this life away.

In a world so cold.

“My inner eye doesn’t lie, baby doll,” Lorne shook his head. “And that one right there is gonna do some great things. Seems you found the modern-day Einstein, hmm?”

Buffy laughed before smiling as she replied. “I actually already knew that. It’s hard to miss… So he’s gonna be okay, then?”

Are you sane? Where's the shame?

A moment of time passes by, you cannot rewind.

Who's to blame? Where did it start?

Is there a cure for your sickness?

Have you no heart?

“Oh is that what this is about?” the Anagogic demon raised an eyebrow before nodding in reply. “Yeah, this one has a real bright future ahead of him. It’s kinda nice to see down here.”

Buffy let out a relieved sigh she hadn’t been fully aware she was holding in. “Good. He deserves it...”

And I don't believe men are born to be killers.

And I don't believe the world can't be saved.

How did you did you get here and when did start?

An innocent child with a thorn in his heart.

“So do you, baby doll.” Lorne offered after a moment of listening. He continued before Buffy could comment. “So are you taking up your mantle again?”

Buffy sighed again, this one more depressed then relieved. “I don’t know...” she glanced at the stage again and shook her head. “If I’d ignored my instincts the night he was attacked, he would have died… He almost did.”

“But you saved him,” Lorne pointed out a bit unnecessarily, and Buffy saw that his eyes were focused on the stage again.

What kind of world are we living?

Where love is divided by hate.

Losing control of our feelings

“Yeah.” Buffy nodded in agreement, also turning to watch Charlie. “And I really have to wonder how many great people have died because I ran away? How many miracles will they not be able to make?”

Lorne shrugged. “There are plenty of threats to the innocents around the world, baby doll. And there’s only one of you.”

We're Dreaming this life away

What kind of world do we live in?

Where love is divided by hate.

“Yeah.” Buffy nodded again, before sighing again. “But that doesn’t mean I was right to give up.”

“Not really my place to say, Slayer,” Lorne shrugged. “If you wanta sing for me after your little star here, I might be able to give you a few real pointers.”

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe another time.”

“Can’t blame me for trying, baby doll,” Lorne offered a grin, before his expression turned unexpectedly grim. “Though, if you’re thinking of taking up your role again, you might want a heads up.”

Selling our souls for no reason,

We all must be dreaming this life away.

In a world so cold.

Buffy blinked, giving her green-skinned friend her full attention at his serious tone. “On what?”

“Now, I don’t know any of the particulars, really. But I do know that another portal to a different dimension from mine has been opening a lot lately somewhere not too far from here. And that a lot of runaways have been disappearing. And a lot of old homeless people have been appearing out of nowhere.”

There's a sickness inside you that wants to escape.

It's a feeling you get when you can't find your way.

So how many times must you fall to your knees?

Never, Never, Never, Never, Never do this again.

Buffy frowned, taking a sip of the soda the bartender had brought her a few moments before as she considered what the Pylean demon was telling her. It was much easier to Giles and Willow do the thinking for her a lot of the time, but she wasn’t stupid and could do it herself, if she had too. “...Time’s different in other dimensions, right?”

“It does indeed, baby doll. Not in Pylea, but other dimensions are faster, others are slower.”

“So the old homeless people could be the runaways?”

“Could be. Almost certainly are, actually. I know one of ‘em used to sing here occasionally, and she wandered in a few days ago decades older than she’d been the week before. Didn’t know who she was, either.”

It starts with pain, followed by hate.

And I don't believe men are born to be killers,

And I don't believe our world can't be saved.

Buffy sighed again after several moments of contemplation. “So I should start looking into the homeless shelters around here for younger humans.” She raised an eyebrow at her green-skinned friend. “Anything else you can give me?”

“Not this evenin’, sweet cheeks.”

“Well, thanks for the heads up, then… Little out of character for you though, isn’t it?” she asked, having heard his ‘neutrality policy’ a few times before.

The green-skinned demon shrugged, eyes turned back towards the stage. “It’s interfering with business. I don’t like loosing regulars.”

Buffy smiled, knowing that while he’d protest her slaying some of the more vicious demons that frequented his bar he didn’t really mind it. Throw the nice people that sing for him into the mix and suddenly he spoke up. Shaking her head slightly even as she too turned to watch Charlie finish, her smile widened at the stunned look on his face when he received a standing ovation from the full bar at the end of his song.

What kind of world are we living?

Where love is divided by hate.

Losing control of our feelings

We're Dreaming this life away

What kind of world do we live in?

Where love is divided by hate.

Selling our souls for no reason,

We all must be dreaming this life away.

In a world so cold.

In a world so cold!

“A real bright little star right there,” Lorne murmured, offering her a small smile as Charlie looked around with that stunned expression on his face before taking a quick bow, handing his microphone back to the DJ and climbing quickly off the stage, clearly intent on making his way back to them. “Uh oh. You might wanta meet him half-way, baby doll.”

“What? Why?” Buffy demanded, looking around for a threat and only seeing a lot of cheering demons and one human man making his way towards Charlie. She stared at him a little more closely, focusing her slay-senses on him for a moment, before frowning as he registered as fully human. She didn’t even sense too much magic coming off of him...

“That would be Lindsey McDonald, a rising bigshot at Wolfram & Hart.”

Buffy frowned, “He’s a lawyer?”

“Yeah. For Hell Incorporated.” Lorne explained, shaking his head at her obvious ignorance. “They represent just about anyone who’s evil. Evil humans. Vampires. Demons. They’ll get anyone off for a price. He’s one of their best. And anyone from Wolfram & Hart showing an interest in your little star isn’t, I’m thinking, in his best interests. Specially since that particular one sings all the time, and has a great set of pipes but a soul that’s a black hole to your source of sunshine.”

“You’re probably right. Thanks, Lorne,” Buffy murmured, handing him her half-finished drink before hurrying to intercept Charlie before the lawyer got anywhere near him.

Charlie’s P.O.V.

Charlie shook his head as he held the door open for ‘Annie’ before following her into the Craftsman, unsurprised to see the lights in the living room still on.

“Have a good time, you two?” his mother asked, slipping a bookmark into her book and setting it on the coffee table beside her chair as she rose to greet them.

“I had a great time, Missus Eppes.” Annie replied with a brilliant smile, before raising an eyebrow at him. “How ‘bout you, Charlie, what’d you think?”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head again. “Surprisingly, I did too. Thanks, Annie.” At his mother’s inquisitive look he elaborated. “She dragged me to a karaoke bar. And then she made me sing!”

His Mom laughed, smiling at the pair. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Though I was getting a bit worried at the time.”

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore, remember? Besides, Don’s job is way more dangerous then mine… well, when I get the professorship, anyway.”

“You will, dear. You really don’t have anything to worry about, the Dean at Cal-Sci was really very impressed with you. And Professor Fleinhardt probably put in a lot of good words as well, since he transferred there from Princeton.”

“I know, but...” Charlie shrugged, shaking his head. “I really want this job.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it, Charlie,” Annie spoke up, her soft voice warm as she continued to smile. “When do you find out?”

Charlie shrugged, shaking his head a bit. “Some time soon, I think. If I’m going to teach classes in September, after all, I have to be a professor by July at least, don’t I?”

Both ladies nodded in agreement even as Charlie looked around, a bit surprised.

“Where’s Dad?”

“In bed. He tried to wait up for you, but he has an early day tomorrow, so after midnight was pushing it for him.”

Noticing that the clock on the wall said it was close to one o’clock in the morning, Charlie nodded with a frown. “You really didn’t have to wait up for us, Mom.”

She shrugged, “I know, dear. But I wanted to.” She drew him into a hug and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before heading over to Annie to do the same. “I’m glad you both had a good time. And now I’ll head to bed. You can tell me all about your karaoke bar in the morning, all right?”

“Sure, Mom. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Missus Eppes.”

“I told you, Annie. Call me Maggie or Margaret.” His Mom shook his head at the younger blonde woman, still smiling as she bid them both goodnight and headed for the stairs. “Good night.”

End Chapter 4: What Goes Bump In The Night? - Part 2

NEXT: Chapter 5: Demon Hunting.