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Chapter 2


Buffy chopped, hacked, and slashed at the massive yellow demon. But every time she succeeded in carving away one tentacle, it seemed ten more would come at her out of nowhere. Buffy thought the thing must have a hundred of the slimy, stringy, limbs. Just when it seemed she was making headway in slaying the monster, it would spurt a thick gloppy red goo at her. Both her and the demon were now covered in the mass of muck and ropey tentacles, and a casual outsider would have likened the scene to a collection of gore and intestine.

As she moved in to make her victorious killing blow, the beast opened it’s maw to emit a strange knocking sound, causing Buffy to hesitate momentarily. The demons she slew usually had more advanced communication than this. Some even traded insults with her on occasion. This was a little unusual. But then again, this demon didn’t seem too high on the scale of evolution. As she again poised herself to make the deadly blow, the demon spoke once more. The hollow cracking noise became more insistent, this time accompanied by a name..... “Buffy”.

**********

“Buffy,” Dawn repeated. “Buffy, the door! You better answer it,” the young girl said, pulling on Buffy’s shirt sleeve and thus the preteen from her daydream.

“Door? What are you...” Buffy began as the knocking repeated once more from the front door. Buffy set aside the spoon she was using to stir the spaghetti sauce and ran for the door. It must be a stranger, she reasoned. No one but strangers came to the Summers house. Friends, family, and teachers all knew to stay well away from there. Hank didn’t tolerate even friendly interference in his family, and he was well connected enough to make those who tried, wish that they hadn’t.

Buffy peeked through the bottom of the glass in the door. She was just barely tall enough to see out if she stood on her tiptoes. Standing on the other side of the door was a boy. He didn’t look to be much older than her, maybe a year or two. He had medium short hair that fell across his forehead in light brown curls. He was kind of skinny looking, and his face stood out in jagged angles.

As she contemplated who the boy could be, she heard him utter a colorful curse as he turned to leave the porch, prompting a giggle to burst from Buffy. The boy must have heard her laugh, because he froze in his place and turned back toward the door, giving it a curious glance. Her loneliness and curiosity getting the better of her, Buffy decided to chance finding out who he was. She cracked the door open just enough to squeeze her face into the opening.

“Can I help you?” Buffy said so softly, it almost qualified as a whisper.

“Um, yeah, ‘s your mum home?” the boy asked in a accent she had only heard on the television.

Buffy’s eyes fell to her feet as she shook her head.

“No? Ok, how ‘bout your dad?” He pressed, trying to see around the small opening.

“No, he’ll be home soon though. Can I give him a...um..a..message?” Buffy asked hesitantly.

“Don’t suppose you’d know if your mum has any ‘cream of tarter’ would you? We just moved in next door, and my mum can’t find hers in all the boxes. Still determined to make my dad’s favorite pie though,” the boy said, rolling his eye. The little look of annoyance brought forth another tiny giggle from Buffy. “Oh, name’s William, by the way,” he said, smiling a little.

So he was their new neighbor. Well, dad wouldn’t get too upset if she just helped the neighbor would he? It would be the proper thing to do, and dad always said they should act proper.

“I’m pretty sure I do. Dad always makes me use mom’s old recipes and a lot of them call for it.” Buffy replied with a shrug.

“So, you do the cooking instead of your parents? Little young aren’t you?” William asked with a very confused look.

“Um...well, my...my mom died when I was little, and dad..he doesn’t like to, so I do it.” Buffy clarified. “And I’m not too young, I’m twelve,” she added defiantly, one hand on her hip.

“Okaaaay,” William drew out. “But you do have the stuff, right?”

Buffy nodded, her posture relaxing a little. “I can’t give you a lot though, dad gets mad if I let us get low on stuff. My name’s...”

“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” a small excited voice called from the interior of the house.

Buffy stepped back from the door and turned to face the panicked sounding Dawn, letting the door unintentionally open a little wider.

“Buffy! The sauce!” the girl urged her big sister.

“Oh my God!” Buffy exclaimed, eyes wide. Without another thought, Buffy abandoned the boy at the door and ran back into the kitchen.

“So, who are you?” Dawn asked innocently.

“William. Just moved next door,” he smiled down at her. “And who are you?”

“I’m Dawn. Buffy’s my sister. I like your hair.” Dawn commented.

“Thanks,” He answered, his hand coming up unconsciously to comb through the short curls.

“No, no, no, no, no,” an urgent plea cried from inside the house, drawing both Dawn and the new neighbor in toward the kitchen. The pair arrived at the door to see Buffy frantically trying to save what remained of the dinner she’d been preparing.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod,” Buffy rambled. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably,” Dawn agreed evenly.

Buffy glanced at the clock and gave a squeal of panic, then began rummaging through the cabinets, plucking various cans and spices from within them. “It’s ok, Buffy,” she mumbled to herself. “You’ll just fix a new batch and hope he doesn’t kill you. Oh crap! I don’t have any more mushrooms. I can’t make it without mushrooms. The receipt says mushrooms. He’ll freak out if I don’t have mushrooms. Who am I kidding? He’s gonna freak either way. God, why don’t I have mushrooms?” She was now nearly sobbing as she rambled.

“Um...Buffy? It’s just sauce, pet. I’m sure your dad will understand. I mean, it’s not the end of the world,” William said, drawing a bitter laugh from Buffy.

“No, not the end of the world. Just the end of me,” Buffy replied, then asked, “Do you have mushrooms? Please tell me you have mushrooms.”

“I have no idea!” William responded, incredulous. “How the heck should I know if my mum has mushrooms? And what do you mean ‘the end of you’?” he asked as Buffy set about starting a new batch of sauce.

Dawn tugged on his arm. “She means daddy’s gonna be *really* angry when he gets home. You can hide with me if you want to. I have a really good spot in the basement,” she offered. “But you can’t tell anyone where it is,” she added, her finger waving in earnest to indicate her seriousness.

“William!” Buffy commanded his attention. “Do you have mushrooms or not?” she demanded, as she started stirring ingredients together.

Buffy feared she’s lost William somewhere. His brows were scrunched together, his mouth frozen in an unvoiced question. Apparently he was trying to figure out what exactly he’d stumbled into, poor guy. Just as an answer to her question seemed forthcoming from him, a motion at the door to the dining room caught Buffy’s eye. In the doorway stood her father, with a look on his face that gave Buffy the overwhelming urge to run.

“Buffy, what’s going on here. Why is there a *boy* in my house?” Hank asked.

Buffy stood frozen. Her mind seemed to have abandoned her to her fear. She couldn’t answer either question at the moment.

**********

William stared at the man who was standing in the door. This must be the girls’ father. Whom else would just walk into the house. Ok, so he had just walked in the house himself, but he was just trying to help. The girl had sounded right terrified when she fled from the front door.

Now, she looked like she was about to pass out, or maybe run. He wasn’t too sure at the moment. And where had the little bit gone off to? The kid had scampered off like some sort of practiced felon. And now the unknown man was staring at him with a very unfriendly expression. The girl still looked about to die of fright at any moment, and William thought he was beginning to understand why. The man seemed a bit on the scarey side. He didn't understand it, but he felt a need to intervene on the girl’s behalf. Deciding quickly on his next move, William walked toward the man and extended his hand.

“Name’s William, William Giles. Just moved in next door. This is all my fault, really. My mum sent me over to borrow something for a pie.”

Hank’s demeanor seemed to change instantly. “Hank Summers,” he said as he shook William’s hand. “I appreciate your chivalry son, but to be honest my daughter does something like this all the time,” Hank shook his head sadly. “I should probably send her to reform school, but I’m sure they’d just send her back. Now, what was it your mother needed?” He asked, smiling brightly.

The friendly smile took William off guard momentarily. Maybe he had been too quick to jump to conclusions. Then again, the man was spouting some pretty harsh words.

“Uh, oh yeah, Cream of Tartar,” he fished from his memory. “That’s what it was.”

Hank seemed to hesitate a moment, a look of perplexity on his face. He walked over to a cabinet and began rifling through it. “Buffy, where did I put that spice he’s needing?” he asked.

Buffy snapped out of her state, and pulled a small glass jar out of the cabinet next to the stove, handing it gingerly to her father. William noticed she never looked up from the counter top as she did so. Something weird was definitely going on here. Everyone was acting weird.

Hank took the bottle from Buffy, gave the label a cursory check and handed it to William. “Well, there you go son. Tell your mom she can keep it. I was going to buy a new bottle when I went to the store tomorrow anyway. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No, sir,” William responded. “Sorry ‘bout the dinner. Didn’t mean to distract the girl. I’ll just see my way out,” he said as he backed toward the front door.

“Nice meeting you. And tell your parents ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’,” Hank smiled and gave a small wave.

“Will do. Thanks again,” he said, holding up the jar of white powder.

**********

“What happened? You get lost trying to find the neighbor’s house?” Angel called from the couch, never looking up from the video game he was playing. The living room still had several boxes that needed unpacking, but evidently Angel had found the game console.

“No, you ponce, I had a run in with the Addams family that lives next door,” William replied.

“Their name is Addams?” Angel asked.

“No, moron, the whole family’s completely mental. Not unlike you I’d wager,” William taunted as he proceeded to the kitchen.

“Did they have any?” Jenny asked as he walked in.

“Yeah. Said you could keep it too. Don’t really fancy trying to return it anyway,” he said, setting the bottle on the counter next to the mixing bowl.

Jenny silently searched his face. He hated it when she did that. She’d only been married to his dad a little over a year now, but somehow she always knew what he was thinking. Too bad her son hadn’t inherited his mum’s intelligence. Angel was bloody stupid, and had the hair to match. Angel was only a year older than him, but William really hoped he didn’t turn into such a dolt when he was fourteen. In fact, he already had plans. He was going to be the exact opposite of his step-brother. Ice couldn’t be cooler than he was going to be.

Jenny’s laugh brought William out of his contemplative thoughts. She had a pretty smile and her laugh was usually infectious. She gave her step-son a gentle pat on his shoulder. “I’m betting Angel will be mocking you in a year or so too,” she commented as she went back to her baking.

“I think your mom’s psychic,” William commented as he plopped next to Angel, seizing up the second game controller.

“Or it could be that you’re a half-wit,” Angel offered.

“Better than a no-brain like you,” William retorted, as both boys settled into playing the video game.

After long moments filled only with small grunts and varied curses, Angel finally spoke up. “So, what happened?”

“Met the neighbors. Couple of girls. One’s pretty small but the other is only a year younger than me. She’s not too bad, but her dad’s a complete psycho.”

Angel smiled, “Didn’t like you, huh?”

“Laugh it up, gel boy. The little one was telling me the best place to hide when her dad got home,” William persisted.

Angel seemed to contemplate that a moment. “So, you think there’s something funny over there?”

“Something’s definitely fishy,” he started. “And I don’t mean the food.”

**********

“Stupid, freaking, dumbass, William. Not even my night to take out the trash. It’s his night. But nooooo...he has to go and be all golden boy and volunteer to do the dishes instead,” Angel mumbled as he carried the trash bag through the yard. “I hate doing the trash,” he continued, throwing the large bag into the trash bin in the alleyway.

As he turned to walk back toward the house, a soft whimpering sound caught his ear. He stopped and turned his head, trying to identify the source. He was only met with silence. When he finally decided he was hearing things and started toward the house he heard it again. Distinct this time. Someone was out here, and whomever it was, they were crying.

As he homed in on the sound, he found a small blond girl sitting behind the trash bin. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her head was down with her hands interlaced behind it. Her arms were draping down to cover her head. It looked a lot like the crash position they teach you on airplanes.

“Hey....you ok there? You hurt?” Angel asked as he edged up to the girl. He must have startled her, because her head shot up and her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. Her face was flushed and covered with tears causing bits of her hair to stick to it. There was something else there too, but it was difficult to make out in the dark.

“Who are you?” The girl asked as she scrambled to stand up and started inching toward the house next door.

“I’m Angel. I live here,” he pointed over his shoulder to his new house.

“I...I, um...I’m fine,” she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I should get back inside, I was just bringing out the trash,” she mumbled as she turned to flee.

Before she could take more than a step, Angel’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm eliciting a squeal and a very noticeable flinch from the girl. Angel eased his grip, but didn’t turn loose of her as he tried to meet her eyes. She never would look at him though. She just stood there, cowering away from him as best she could. Angel slowly brought his other hand up and gently turned up her chin with one finger. He then ghosted his fingers across a darkened area covering the side of her face.

“It...it..it’s nothing. I tripped on the steps coming out here, that’s why I was crying. Stupid really,” Buffy quickly supplied, before considering he hadn’t even asked her the inevitable question. “I really should get back. I’ll get in trouble if I’m out here too long,” She tugged against the hold he still had on her, and chanced looking at him for a moment. Angel met her eyes, and studied them as long as she would let him. Then he simply nodded and let go of her arm. He watched her as she walked back to her house, occasionally looking back at him as she went.

He had been unprepared for the pain he had seen in her. She was so tiny and fragile looking. But at the same time, she had a definite look of strength in her eyes. He also knew darn good and well what that mark on her face was, and he was going to do something about it. Ok, so he was fourteen and he didn’t know what he could really do, but he had to do something.

**********

William looked up at him as he walked through the back door. Then he did a double take, his eyes narrowing as he studied him. Sometimes Angel wondered if maybe his mother had shared her mind reading tricks with William. The brat could read others like nobody’s business, especially for a kid.

“So, I take it you met the neighbors,” he said, more statement than question.

Angel nodded affirmatively, his hands finding his pockets. “Just the girl. The older one.”

“Buffy,” William supplied, again studying Angel. William finally blew out a heavy sigh before asking, “Guess it wasn’t my imagination, was it?”

Angel shook his head. “She had a bruise, left cheek.”

“Bugger,” William spat. “Well, guess we tell mum and dad.”

“Probably should. Think your dad will kill him?” Angel asked.

“Not if your mum gets to him first,” William answered.

“I can live with that,” Angel shrugged.





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