Patrol
Xander was snarling-mad in the kitchen, in full pace mode, with Kennedy, Dawn and Andrew. Outside,
the yellow evening sunlight opaqued the windows and coaxed out long shadows under the eaves and
alleyways.
“Couldn’t she take him another time? Maybe like when we’re more sure? Or how about never?” he said.
“Calm down,” Kennedy said. She tried to get in front of him, to square off with him.
“She’s taking him on patrol,” Xander said, pushing past her. “Oh here, mysterious back-from-where-
ever guy, come out into the dark, dank London night. Have some pointy weapons. Now, wait till I turn
my back...”
“It’s kinda romantic,” Dawn said. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Two lovers reunited beyond death. It’s like Brandon Lee in The Crow,” Andrew said.
“No. No. It’s not like The Crow. It’s like Evil Dead,” Xander said. “Why is it that only the women in this
house have gone all wacky for William the Bloody?”
“Hey,” Andrew said.
Xander came to a sudden stop. “Wait. Maybe it’s a love spell...”
“Just let them have their peace, Xander,” Kennedy said. She put stakes into her pockets, then slipped
on her jacket. “Buffy knows what she’s doing.”
Giles came in to the kitchen, looking equal parts tired and frazzled.
“Giles, man!” Xander said. “Please tell me you found something.”
Giles slid a thick brown file folder onto the bar. “Where’s Willow?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs,” Xander said. “I take it you found nothing.”
Giles rubbed his forehead. “There was an earthquake in LA last week,” he said.
“Yeah, I read about that. Something unusual about it?” Xander asked.
“The building that housed the law offices of Wolfram & Hart was destroyed,” Giles said, in a hushed tone.
“Oh,” Xander said. “Angel?”
“... is listed as missing, as well as the others,” Giles said.
“And Spike?” Xander said.
“Presumably.”
Dawn and Andrew gathered in. Kennedy lingered in the hall.
“We should tell Buffy,” Dawn said.
Giles looked over at her. “Let’s wait until we know more. Where is she, by the way?”
Xander’s lips puckered like he’d bitten into a raw lemon. “Taken Spike out for patrol,” he said. “We
were just heading down to Shepherd’s for a much needed night cap. Wanna join?”
Giles heaved a sigh. “No. Not tonight, thanks. I need a word with Willow,” he said. “It seems we have a
grave situation on our hands.”
Buffy and William had a grave situation of their own, but only in the literal sense. Graveyards were not
the same in London as they were in Sunnydale. Many of them lay adjacent to quaint, peaked-roofed
churches, or nestled next to neighborhoods. Plus, they were so old. Moss covered the weathered
headstones and statuary, most of which had lost limbs and definition over the ages. Even still,
cemeteries the world around had the same creepy energy to them. When the mist rolled in, shrouding
everything in pale luminescence, Buffy always got a case of the chills.
Tonight was no different. Except that for the first time she’d come to London, she was not on her own
for patrol. William walked quietly along with her, hands shoved deep into the pockets of the new coat
she and Dawn picked up for him on Oxford Street. He was watchful, and slightly nervous, she could tell.
“You should’ve come with us,” Buffy said, trying to ease his tension. “Dawn was all about the earth
tones. Said she always pictured you in greens and beige. I told her black was more your line...”
“Can’t go wrong with basic black,” he said. “Goes with everything, you know. You both did me fine with
the urban camouflage. And the boots. Now they’re top-notch. How’d you figure my size?”
“Length of my forearm,” she said.
“Beg pardon?”
“Measured a bruise once. Your foot equals...” she measured the length of her arm, “this long.”
A look of displeasure and discomfort crossed his face. “Resourceful,” he said.
“I’m kidding,” Buffy told him. “The skates, William. I knew your size by the skates.”
“Oh,” he said.
They walked on a bit in silence.
She was the one who spoke first: “Leather pants, leather coat - standard. Perfect combo of form meets
fashion function.”
“The coat is right smart,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Buffy said.
He looked over at her. “I’m not worried,” he said, quietly.
“Really? Because you look like Richard Hatch at an IRS hearing.”
“What?” he said.
“Never mind. I can take these guys on my own. We’re just here to see if you came back with skills other
than the Wolverine factor,” she said.
“Wolverine?”
She shrugged. “Guess I do listen to Andrew.”
“How can you not, the way he prattles?” William said.
Buffy stopped him. “It’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said. He looked away, then back to her. “I’m concerned, is all. It’s just, I rather liked the
blood and brawling. Being handy in a fight. It was kind of my thing. And, what if I have lost that? What
use...”
“You’ll be fine,” Buffy said. “And just in case, wear this.” She passed a small white box to him.
William opened it. Inside, he found a tiny gold cross on a chain.
He was speechless. He touched it tentatively with the tips of his fingers.
“It’s a cross,” he said.
“The necessary accessory for today’s active demon fighter,” she said. “Here, I’ll put it on.”
She took the cross from its webbing of white cotton and fastened the chain around his neck.
“Color me Agent Scully,” he said, smiling.
“It’s good,” Buffy said.
He turned to face her. “It’s perfect,” he said.
That’s touching,” a voice called from behind a lop-sided, moss-slimed angel statue. A female vampire
stepped around the monument and folded her arms. “They’ll bury your corpses in them pretty chains,”
she said.
“How rude,” Buffy said. “We were having a moment. It’s all right, though. We’re ready to move on.”
The lady vamp leapt for Buffy. Behind her, another vampire, this one male and reeking of scotch, headed
straight for William.
William dodged. Scotch Boy took a header into a headstone, but recovered quickly enough to sweep
William’s legs. He didn’t dodge so well that time. Two other vampires joined the fun. Buffy staked one on
a fly-by. She returned to her scrap with Missy Doolittle. The second, figuring William for the weak link,
dived in with Scotchie to keep him on the ground.
Buffy continued to tangle Lady Vamp, but she saw that perhaps William had lost his hand-to-hand gift.
He swung wide, overbalanced, went down again, this time headfirst. William rolled, though. He got up
just as the second male vampire charged in.
William reacted without thinking. He drove his elbow into the vampire’s chest. Scotchie grabbed
William’s arm from behind, but William dropped, pulling the vampire down with him. He straddled this one,
then realized a second later that he had no weapon.
“Will!” Buffy yelled. She tossed a stake his way. He caught it, but just as he was ready to hammer it
home, the second tackled. They tumbled. William sprung up, spun and struck the heart. As he finished
the turn, Buffy swung Doolittle into his path.
The Lady Vamp batted her eyelashes at him.
“Not my type, luv,” he said. He staked her just as Buffy finished off the last one.
When it was done, Buffy and William stood face to face in a drift of dust.
William shouted to the clouds. “Did you see that?”
Buffy hooked her thumbs in her jeans pockets. “That’s my guy,” she said.
Xander was snarling-mad in the kitchen, in full pace mode, with Kennedy, Dawn and Andrew. Outside,
the yellow evening sunlight opaqued the windows and coaxed out long shadows under the eaves and
alleyways.
“Couldn’t she take him another time? Maybe like when we’re more sure? Or how about never?” he said.
“Calm down,” Kennedy said. She tried to get in front of him, to square off with him.
“She’s taking him on patrol,” Xander said, pushing past her. “Oh here, mysterious back-from-where-
ever guy, come out into the dark, dank London night. Have some pointy weapons. Now, wait till I turn
my back...”
“It’s kinda romantic,” Dawn said. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Two lovers reunited beyond death. It’s like Brandon Lee in The Crow,” Andrew said.
“No. No. It’s not like The Crow. It’s like Evil Dead,” Xander said. “Why is it that only the women in this
house have gone all wacky for William the Bloody?”
“Hey,” Andrew said.
Xander came to a sudden stop. “Wait. Maybe it’s a love spell...”
“Just let them have their peace, Xander,” Kennedy said. She put stakes into her pockets, then slipped
on her jacket. “Buffy knows what she’s doing.”
Giles came in to the kitchen, looking equal parts tired and frazzled.
“Giles, man!” Xander said. “Please tell me you found something.”
Giles slid a thick brown file folder onto the bar. “Where’s Willow?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs,” Xander said. “I take it you found nothing.”
Giles rubbed his forehead. “There was an earthquake in LA last week,” he said.
“Yeah, I read about that. Something unusual about it?” Xander asked.
“The building that housed the law offices of Wolfram & Hart was destroyed,” Giles said, in a hushed tone.
“Oh,” Xander said. “Angel?”
“... is listed as missing, as well as the others,” Giles said.
“And Spike?” Xander said.
“Presumably.”
Dawn and Andrew gathered in. Kennedy lingered in the hall.
“We should tell Buffy,” Dawn said.
Giles looked over at her. “Let’s wait until we know more. Where is she, by the way?”
Xander’s lips puckered like he’d bitten into a raw lemon. “Taken Spike out for patrol,” he said. “We
were just heading down to Shepherd’s for a much needed night cap. Wanna join?”
Giles heaved a sigh. “No. Not tonight, thanks. I need a word with Willow,” he said. “It seems we have a
grave situation on our hands.”
Buffy and William had a grave situation of their own, but only in the literal sense. Graveyards were not
the same in London as they were in Sunnydale. Many of them lay adjacent to quaint, peaked-roofed
churches, or nestled next to neighborhoods. Plus, they were so old. Moss covered the weathered
headstones and statuary, most of which had lost limbs and definition over the ages. Even still,
cemeteries the world around had the same creepy energy to them. When the mist rolled in, shrouding
everything in pale luminescence, Buffy always got a case of the chills.
Tonight was no different. Except that for the first time she’d come to London, she was not on her own
for patrol. William walked quietly along with her, hands shoved deep into the pockets of the new coat
she and Dawn picked up for him on Oxford Street. He was watchful, and slightly nervous, she could tell.
“You should’ve come with us,” Buffy said, trying to ease his tension. “Dawn was all about the earth
tones. Said she always pictured you in greens and beige. I told her black was more your line...”
“Can’t go wrong with basic black,” he said. “Goes with everything, you know. You both did me fine with
the urban camouflage. And the boots. Now they’re top-notch. How’d you figure my size?”
“Length of my forearm,” she said.
“Beg pardon?”
“Measured a bruise once. Your foot equals...” she measured the length of her arm, “this long.”
A look of displeasure and discomfort crossed his face. “Resourceful,” he said.
“I’m kidding,” Buffy told him. “The skates, William. I knew your size by the skates.”
“Oh,” he said.
They walked on a bit in silence.
She was the one who spoke first: “Leather pants, leather coat - standard. Perfect combo of form meets
fashion function.”
“The coat is right smart,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Buffy said.
He looked over at her. “I’m not worried,” he said, quietly.
“Really? Because you look like Richard Hatch at an IRS hearing.”
“What?” he said.
“Never mind. I can take these guys on my own. We’re just here to see if you came back with skills other
than the Wolverine factor,” she said.
“Wolverine?”
She shrugged. “Guess I do listen to Andrew.”
“How can you not, the way he prattles?” William said.
Buffy stopped him. “It’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said. He looked away, then back to her. “I’m concerned, is all. It’s just, I rather liked the
blood and brawling. Being handy in a fight. It was kind of my thing. And, what if I have lost that? What
use...”
“You’ll be fine,” Buffy said. “And just in case, wear this.” She passed a small white box to him.
William opened it. Inside, he found a tiny gold cross on a chain.
He was speechless. He touched it tentatively with the tips of his fingers.
“It’s a cross,” he said.
“The necessary accessory for today’s active demon fighter,” she said. “Here, I’ll put it on.”
She took the cross from its webbing of white cotton and fastened the chain around his neck.
“Color me Agent Scully,” he said, smiling.
“It’s good,” Buffy said.
He turned to face her. “It’s perfect,” he said.
That’s touching,” a voice called from behind a lop-sided, moss-slimed angel statue. A female vampire
stepped around the monument and folded her arms. “They’ll bury your corpses in them pretty chains,”
she said.
“How rude,” Buffy said. “We were having a moment. It’s all right, though. We’re ready to move on.”
The lady vamp leapt for Buffy. Behind her, another vampire, this one male and reeking of scotch, headed
straight for William.
William dodged. Scotch Boy took a header into a headstone, but recovered quickly enough to sweep
William’s legs. He didn’t dodge so well that time. Two other vampires joined the fun. Buffy staked one on
a fly-by. She returned to her scrap with Missy Doolittle. The second, figuring William for the weak link,
dived in with Scotchie to keep him on the ground.
Buffy continued to tangle Lady Vamp, but she saw that perhaps William had lost his hand-to-hand gift.
He swung wide, overbalanced, went down again, this time headfirst. William rolled, though. He got up
just as the second male vampire charged in.
William reacted without thinking. He drove his elbow into the vampire’s chest. Scotchie grabbed
William’s arm from behind, but William dropped, pulling the vampire down with him. He straddled this one,
then realized a second later that he had no weapon.
“Will!” Buffy yelled. She tossed a stake his way. He caught it, but just as he was ready to hammer it
home, the second tackled. They tumbled. William sprung up, spun and struck the heart. As he finished
the turn, Buffy swung Doolittle into his path.
The Lady Vamp batted her eyelashes at him.
“Not my type, luv,” he said. He staked her just as Buffy finished off the last one.
When it was done, Buffy and William stood face to face in a drift of dust.
William shouted to the clouds. “Did you see that?”
Buffy hooked her thumbs in her jeans pockets. “That’s my guy,” she said.
.Chapter Index.
Part One: Wishes
London Flat
City of Angels
Wishes
Fruitless
Coming Home
Unwelcome
Religious Experience,
with Donuts
Thoughts on Dinner
and Death
The Kitchen Witch
Kensington Park
Aura
A Round In
Patrol
Aura Deflection
Connection
Morning After
Slayers in Waiting
Go Ask Alice
Watchers Junior
London Bumpy
Honeymoon's Over
Still In The Game
No Angel
Aftershocks
Crowded House in the
Middle of the Street
Adding Low to the
Lowdown
The Sisters
Disenchanted (Part One)
Watchers In Crime
Bad Blood
Disenchanted (Part Two)
Falling
Hallelujah
Here's Where The Story
Ends
For Part Two - Regrets
Chapter Index, click
here.
Part One: Wishes
London Flat
City of Angels
Wishes
Fruitless
Coming Home
Unwelcome
Religious Experience,
with Donuts
Thoughts on Dinner
and Death
The Kitchen Witch
Kensington Park
Aura
A Round In
Patrol
Aura Deflection
Connection
Morning After
Slayers in Waiting
Go Ask Alice
Watchers Junior
London Bumpy
Honeymoon's Over
Still In The Game
No Angel
Aftershocks
Crowded House in the
Middle of the Street
Adding Low to the
Lowdown
The Sisters
Disenchanted (Part One)
Watchers In Crime
Bad Blood
Disenchanted (Part Two)
Falling
Hallelujah
Here's Where The Story
Ends
For Part Two - Regrets
Chapter Index, click
here.
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