RETURN to CHAOS

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  “Excuse me.” Ian and the others were back, chairs in hand. “Did you say something about an Incan mummy?”

  Yikes, Buffy thought. It was probably better that strangers didn’t hear about that sort of thing. Being the Slayer was supposed to be a secret, after all.

  Willow jumped in. “Well, it would be awfully hard to explain—”

  “We’ve heard there are rumors of vampires around here, too,” Dave said as he sat next to his brother.

  “Rumors?” Buffy asked innocently.

  Oz nodded his head. “There’s a lot of that going on in Sunnydale—or not.”

  “Rumors, that is,” Willow added helpfully.

  Ian smiled. “Exactly. That is why we are here.”

  Hello! What does this mean? Buffy blinked. There went her Slayer radar again. Ian leaned back in his chair, his face no longer lit by the overhead spots. Seeing his face in shadow like that—that’s what she found familiar! Could he be the stranger from the night before?

  She leaned across the table toward Ian. “Have we met before?”

  Ian smiled. “I haven’t had much time to meet anybody.”

  Well, that doesn’t exactly answer my question, does it? An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Buffy could hear Cordelia and Naomi comparing the dresses they were wearing to the formal spring dance. Apparently, Badgeley Mischka was favored over Klein. Again.

  “Well, now you’re where the action is,” Xander said at last. He glanced sharply at Cordelia. “Whatever action happens in Sunnydale.”

  “Have you got anything like the Bronze back home?” Willow asked.

  “Like the Bronze?” Ian replied. “In Wales?”

  Buffy winced. Of course they wouldn’t have anything as cool as a California club . . . would they? Well, why should she care if they got embarrassed? Still, Ian was kind of cute, with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She decided he wasn’t a Masterpiece Theater type after all. With his thin nose and high cheekbones, he looked a little bit like a knight of old.

  “Like the Bronze?” Tom frowned at that. “I think the local club back home is into a sort of hybrid northern-soul/acid-jazz/jungle thing this week.”

  “No,” Dave added, “actually, that would have been last week.”

  Tom nodded looking around. “Bands that play their own instruments? It seems very American.”

  Both of them broke into big grins. Joke city.

  “But we didn’t come here to discuss the music,” Dave continued. “We’re here for—”

  Ian cleared his throat.

  Dave scratched on his excuse for a beard and looked uncomfortable. “Well, you’d have to ask our uncle.”

  It was Ian’s turn to nod. He was looking straight at Buffy. “If you’re who we think you are, he wants to talk to you.”

  Alarm time. “M-me?” Buffy stuttered. “I’m nobody. Who do you think I am?”

  Dave nodded as if he understood all too well. “We no doubt have said too much already.”

  Ian shrugged. “My uncle doesn’t like to talk about anything. Goes with the territory, I suppose.”

  Uh-oh. Danger, Will Robinson! Her Slayer radar was working overtime. These guys were off the Mystery Meter. Why did they have to be so good looking?

  This was the big problem with Sunnydale. Besides worrying about basic stuff like what to wear to the dance and will he ever call you again, every time you met somebody new it could be another Angel or Inca Mummy Girl—or worse.

  And speaking of worse—

  Amanda bounced up to the table. “So, everybody get to know each other? I hope so, because Mom told me I had to have you guys home by ten.”

  Ian smiled at Buffy again. “I think we’ve seen everything we need to for tonight.”

  “That’s super!” Amanda said, as if she could care less. “And Cordelia and I had a chance to connect and compare notes, too. Who knew things would work out so well?”

  “Certainly not me,” Xander chimed in. “Cordelia, think we might have a few minutes to talk, too?”

  “Well . . .” Cordelia hesitated. “Maybe . . .”

  “But Cordelia!” Amanda whined. “We haven’t discussed who we’re going to ask to be on the decorating committee.”

  “What?” Xander asked, incredulous. “Now I’m ranked under the decorating committee?”

  Cordelia rewarded him with a pitying smile. “Xander, we have to get the Spring Formal right. It’s one of the most important events of our high school life.”

  “And Cordelia and I are going to make sure it’s perfect!” Amanda insisted, fluttering her perfectly manicured hand.

  “High school life?” Xander asked, more exasperated with every word. “Perfect? What word doesn’t fit into this sentence?”

  Cordelia glanced at the triumphant Amanda, then back to her boyfriend. “Well, we might not be able to spend all that much time with each other for a while.”

  Xander looked stricken. “What? What are you trying to say? I know we’ve been fighting. We always fight! What, do you want a cooling-off period?”

  Cordelia glared at him in silence.

  “You want a cooling-off week? Month? Year?”

  She still gave him the silent stare.

  He paused and swallowed. “Do you want to break up?”

  Cordelia looked almost as surprised. “Xander, please! I couldn’t possibly break up with you. Not before the Spring Formal.”

  Cordelia and Amanda exchanged a look. It was obvious that men would never understand.

  She leaned forward and gave Xander a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I think I’ll go home with Amanda and her cousins.”

  “It’s never too early to pick a color scheme,” Amanda agreed.

  But Xander wouldn’t give up that easily. Buffy could almost see the wheels turning in his head; where did these guys get off walking home with his girl?

  “Are you sure? What do we really know about these guys?”

  “They’re Amanda’s cousins!” Cordelia replied with a little laugh. “What could go wrong?”

  That, Buffy thought, was the wrong question to ask in Sunnydale. But when Cordelia had her mind made up, there was no arguing with her.

  Cordelia and Amanda were already walking away, chattering in full planning mode. Dave and Tom hurried after them.

  Ian paused an instant to smile back at Buffy. “We’ll talk again soon. According to my uncle, it’s destiny.”

  So there he goes, Buffy thought. Another good-looking mystery man who liked her. Not that she had such a great track record with mystery men.

  Did other Slayers have these problems?

  Chapter 4

  WHAT WAS THAT WHOLE THING WITH THOSE GUYS?” Xander said as the rest of them left the Bronze. “Spy vs. Spy? Mission Impossible? The Man from S.U.N.N.Y.D.A.L.E.?”

  “It was pretty strange,” Willow agreed from where she and Oz followed Xander and Buffy.

  “You know,” Oz said softly as Willow looked over at him, “we haven’t seen each other for three nights.”

  Uh-oh, Xander thought. Oz was talking about his unfortunate tendency to turn into a werewolf when the moon was full. Three nights every month, like the three that had just passed, he had to lock himself up for safety—his safety, and the rest of Sunnydale’s.

  “Well, we’ve seen each other during the day,” Willow volunteered.

  “Days, yeah. But it’s the nights that are important.” He looked down to the street in front of him, then back at Willow. “I appreciate you sticking around through all this.”

  “All what?”

  “You know. The hair, the teeth, the claws. The full-moon routine.”

  Willow hugged him. “No biggie. I think it makes you special.”

  Xander had had enough of all this true-love stuff, especially after his own night with Cordelia. “Hey, I was talking about the mystery men. Can we stay on topic here?”

  Oz nodded sagely. “Their bands don’t play their own instruments. Anything is poss
ible.”

  “Hey, guys!” Willow called. “This is where I’ve got to split!”

  Xander realized they’d reached Willow’s house already. He had been so teed off at Cordelia, he had no idea where they were. Life flew by, he guessed, when you’re in a snit.

  “Yeah,” Oz added, “I think I’m going to see her to the door—”

  “Yeah,” Willow agreed. “To make sure I get inside the house and everything—”

  “Yeah,” Oz replied. “Well, you know, we could probably talk or something for a minute.”

  “OK, OK! I get it,” Xander said with a sigh. “Buffy and I will keep on walking.” He looked over at the blond girl at his side. She’d been awfully quiet ever since they’d left the Bronze.

  “Hey,” he said gently, “everything OK in there?”

  “Huh?” Buffy started as if she had just been woken from a trance. “Oh, yeah.” She waved at Willow and Oz. “See you guys. It’s been fun.”

  The tone of her voice still sounded more like deep-down depression than anything resembling fun.

  Xander realized that seeing those new guys at the Bronze must have gotten Buffy thinking about her dating life—or lack of same.

  Poor Buffy. Ever since she and Angel had had that—falling out, she’d been down on relationships. Then there was that whole business about her skipping town. None of them had gotten over that yet. And now she was walking next to the loneliest guy in Sunnydale. At least, for the moment, her misery had company.

  Xander knew of one way to get her mind off relationships. “Is it time for you to go on patrol?”

  Buffy did perk up a bit. “I was going to wait until after I walked you home.” Buffy generally did a quick tour of the streets just about every night in her role as the Slayer. Vampires and other beasties showed up around Sunnydale with alarming regularity, and it was best to get to them early, before they got any ideas.

  “Why don’t we walk by the graveyard? See if anything’s happening.”

  “Like maybe we can find another vampire football team?” Xander grinned. “You just want to see that hooded stranger again.”

  Buffy frowned at him. “I think we just did, back at the Bronze. Actually, I’d like to get that hooded stranger to explain just what he and his brothers are doing here.”

  “Do you think they’re up to something rotten?”

  “I didn’t say that. But this is the Hellmouth, after all. I’m sure that has something to do with their visit.” She glanced at Xander. “I’d say they were here to do something . . . strange.”

  “I never argue with a Slayer,” Xander replied. Besides, walking around those old Sunnydale tomb-stones would give him something to do. Otherwise, he’d just go home, where his phone was waiting for him—that phone on which he would no doubt call Cordelia.

  Now though, he’d be out much later, possibly even facing real danger.

  That way, maybe Cordelia would call him first.

  Sometimes, Sunnydale could be the most silent place on Earth. And, in moments like this, all her thoughts came crashing in on her.

  Buffy didn’t know where she was going anymore.

  Oh, she knew she was in Sunnydale, headed for the cemetery with Xander by her side. And she knew when she was patrolling she was moving, reacting, doing something. It felt so much better than going home.

  Buffy hadn’t realized how good things were until they were almost gone. When she had sent Angel through the door to Hell, part of her heart had gone with him. After that, she could think of nothing but escaping, of leaving everything else behind. But it was only when she came back to Sunnydale that she realized she had almost lost the rest of her heart as well. By rushing away the way she had, without telling the rest of the gang, Giles, or her mother, she had let them all down.

  Buffy sighed. It was only by going away that she realized how much the others needed her. And how much she needed them. Her mother still looked at Buffy like she couldn’t trust her. Giles seemed even stiffer than he had before, as if he was at a total loss to understand her. And the others? Sure, the gang all kidded around, but there were moments, silences, when they all felt a little awkward. Before, they all fit together like some familiar old jigsaw puzzle. Now, as much as they tried, Buffy still felt there were some pieces missing.

  Angel had come back, but it would never be the same again. They couldn’t resume their physical relationship—that was a gimme. And the rest of the gang was still recovering from the emotional wounds his vampiric side, Angelus, had inflicted on them.

  Buffy and Xander stopped on the edge of the cemetery. It looked like there was nothing doing here, either.

  “Quiet,” Xander said at her side.

  Buffy almost jumped at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just her mood. There was something in the air tonight, something—quiet or not, that just felt wrong. “Quiet should feel better than this.”

  They nodded and walked forward. The grave-stones looked especially pale in the near-full moon. The slightest of breezes rustled the leaves above them and then was gone. There was nothing else.

  Quiet.

  They walked back out through the cemetery gate.

  “Well, exercise is good for all of us,” Xander said.

  “Builds strong bodies twelve ways,” Buffy agreed,

  “There’s no avoiding it. I guess I’d better go home and make that call.”

  “And I’ll go home and see Mom.”

  Xander looked at her for a moment. “This doesn’t sound like a happy thing.”

  “With my Mom? It’s Big-Frown Time.” Ever since Buffy had gotten back, her mother had become even more overprotective, as if knowing about Buffy’s special powers was nothing more than an extra reason to worry.

  “Parents,” Xander agreed. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”

  “At least not ’til you’re eighteen,” Buffy added.

  “So let’s get out of this fun spot.” He glanced back at the rows of graves. “The Vampire’s Plunge O’ Death. A real E-ticket.”

  “Hey! There can be worse rides.”

  Xander nodded. “At least here there are never any lines.”

  They headed home.

  Sometimes, Cordelia just needed her space.

  Xander certainly could be impossible. If only he didn’t kiss like—no, Cordelia didn’t want to go there right now. Sometimes it was best not to examine things too closely. The two of them were just another of the unexplained mysteries of Sunnydale.

  What exactly was she doing with Xander, and why did she miss him so much when he wasn’t around?

  She wished she could share some of this with Amanda. Not that they could talk all that freely in front of Amanda’s cousins.

  Still, life could be worse than taking a nighttime stroll with three cute guys. Maybe I can draw them out, even do a little serious flirting. . . .

  She sidled up next to Tom. He had the broadest shoulders of the three; he looked like he worked out. “So, what do you guys like to do? Sports?” No reply. “Cars?” Still nothing. “Spend money on girls?”

  Tom didn’t even look at her. He was too busy studying the streets in front of them. She had seen both Tom and his brother Dave laughing back at the Bronze. Now they seemed to be all business.

  “We don’t have any time for sports.”

  Oh. What else could she talk about? Well, they were from Wales. “Do you travel much?”

  Tom shook his head. “First time away from home.”

  His brother Dave frowned at Cordelia. “We’ve talked too much.” He looked to Ian. “What were you thinking?”

  “We shouldn’t talk about it,” Ian replied grimly.

  “If our uncle ever found out—” Dave began.

  “We can’t talk about that,” Ian replied.

  That, apparently, was the end of the conversation.

  Was this whole conversation supposed to creep her out? If it was, they were doing a good job. It sounded like she was walking right into the middle of
some sinister plot. Still, these guys didn’t look particularly dangerous. And Amanda was maybe the least sinister person Cordelia knew.

  Maybe they were behind some new nefarious plot. But knowing what went on around this town, it was just as likely some evil witch or a giant lizard from beneath the earth was behind the plot instead.

  Why am I thinking this? Is this supposed to be reassuring?

  She was starting to miss Xander already.

  What was she thinking? Leaving Xander at the Bronze, coming home like this, she didn’t even get a good-night kiss.

  Compared to them, Xander was Mister Charming. Well, Xander was charming in sort of a geeky way. And the way he kissed!

  No, Cordelia, reminded herself. Not going there. . . .

  She hardly remembered what they were fighting about. It had seemed so important to talk to Amanda about the big dance, but they had hardly talked at all since leaving the Bronze. The formal didn’t seem all that important if Xander wasn’t a part of it. She could see the dance now. She would be stunning in a lavender gown. Xander could just tag along and make his usual dumb comments. It would be a perfect evening.

  Cordelia sighed. At least her entourage had walked her home in one piece.

  “Hey, this is my place,” she called to the others “It’s been real.”

  “Thanks for keeping me company with the three wise men here.” Amanda looked at her watch. “Eep! We’re half an hour late! My uncle is going to kill us! See you, Cordelia.”

  Amanda and her cousins trotted quickly down the street.

  Cordelia walked up the front steps. Where is my front-door key? Cordelia frowned. Why do I carry all this stuff? Even in her smallest purse, it could take her five minutes to find her keys.

  She heard something, out on the front lawn. A scraping sound, she thought, and maybe a voice.

  The sound was very faint. Yes, it was definitely a voice.

  “Cordelia.”

  Someone had called her name, but the sound hadn’t been much more than a whisper.

  “Cor - de - lia . . .”