The Devil's Girl - Part I

Riding up to the Intensive Care Unity, the metal wall cool against her back, Buffy ignored the others as they talked quietly in the cramped elevator. She'd been bracing herself for this part of their trip since arriving in the city several hours earlier.

Short of a near fatal injury or handcuffs, there were very few things that could get her into a hospital to visit one of her slayers. It wasn't that she was cold hearted or cruel. The slayers on her teams knew of her severe hospital phobia and tended to panic if she did manage to visit them in the hospital before they could be released .

Normally, if a slayer was injured seriously enough, and Buffy wasn't already on the scene, by the time she could arrive at the hospital enough strings would have been pulled and the injured slayer would have already been transfered to the closest Council infirmary. So she didn't make many hospital appearances anyway.

But things weren't even close to normal right now. The person well versed in the bureaucratic highways and byways of the modern healthcare system, the person who normally spearheaded efforts to retrieve slayers from hospitals, prisons, embassies, and consulates for the Council was the slayer in question. With her injured so badly that the Council's own specialists were unwilling to predict when she would wake, if ever, it was Buffy's responsibility as head slayer to take care of things.

It had taken several days of negotiation to get things taken care of to everyone's satisfaction but Buffy had come to observe her transport from the hospital without a second thought. Doc's transport teams were very good at their jobs and they would get her to the Council infirmary in one piece. Once she was on her way Buffy planned to lead the team that would hunt down and deal with her attacker.

Leaning against the back of the elevator, Buffy kept her thoughts to herself. She couldn't tell what every slayer was thinking but whatever part of her that was hooked into the slayer line could sense turmoil just below the surface.

Lawyers were a dime a dozen in a large city like New York. But slayers like Andy Sachs, J.D. were exceedingly rare. Not only did she possess an understanding of the law second to none but she often achieved the seemingly impossible when a slayer was in a difficult situation.

As far as any of the slayers on Buffy's roving teams were concerned, Andy ranked only slightly below the Council Weapons Master in importance. Not quite in the same pantheon as the original Scoobies but vital to the smooth operation of the slayer support system. And if someone didn't redirect their growing anger at the attack in a productive direction, Buffy knew it was a bomb just waiting to go off. Her presence would calm things down for a little while but not forever.

Buffy stepped out of the elevator, followed by Jessica, Vi's partner and the two junior slayers from the Council's City office. Vi, the Doc and her team, and the attending physician would be up as soon as they'd finished the paperwork. Taking in the layout of the ICU, Buffy pointed Wendy, the younger of the two juniors, towards the small waiting area. "Leah has Andy's room," she said in a low voice only the other slayers could hear, nodding at the other junior slayer, a tall blonde. "You'll swap with her every hour. Any questions?"

"No Ma'am," Wendy murmured, pulling back her ebony hair into a ponytail before she walked over to the waiting area, taking a seat that gave her a good view of the elevators and reception area in the ICU.

Buffy nodded at the other two. "Shall we?" she murmured and headed towards the nurses station.

"Yes, Boss," Jessica said, followed by Leah.

"Andrea Sachs," Buffy said to the nurse behind the desk.

"Visiting hours are over," the nurse said, frowning at them.

"Yes," Buffy agreed. "We're here to see Andrea Sachs."

"You'll have to come back later," the nurse told them, obviously puzzled that they were still standing there.

"No. We're here to see her now," Buffy said.

The nurse frowned at her, her hand on her phone. Buffy suspected she was seconds away from calling hospital security.

"Call your manager," Buffy told her, keeping up her poker face. The Nursing Supervisor for the ICU had been in the meeting to hammer out details of Andy's move. "We can wait."

The nurse picked up her phone and spoke into it for a minute. A surprised look on her face, she put down the phone and looked up at Buffy. "She's in room 42," she said, pointing down a hallway.

"Thanks," Buffy said, before heading there .

"Leah has it now," she told Alex, the silver haired slayer, Andy's assistant. Since the attack she'd stayed as close to her boss as possible. "Go home, get some sleep."

"I want to help," Alex said, her eyes red and her voice gravelly after her long vigil.

"You can help best by getting some rest," Buffy told her. "Meet us in Andy's office tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Alex said gruffly. Standing up, she took a quick look in Andy's room before nodding at them and heading towards the elevator.

Entering the room, Buffy winced. Andy was almost unrecognizable with the layers of bandages and bruises covering her face. And this was after several days, an eternity in slayer healing. The only sounds in the room were the beeps coming from the stack of monitoring equipment at the head of bed and the device attached to her breathing tube.

She watched her for a few minutes, willing her to wake up, before turning to Jessica. "Did anyone talk with her family?"

"Just a minute," Jessica said, stepping out into the hall. "No," she said, returning after speaking with Leah.

"No?" Buffy echoed, surprised. "Why?"

"Andy sent them off on a trip to celebrate her father's retirement. She's the only one who knows where they are."

"Crap," Buffy said. Pulling out her phone, she called the Doc. "Yeah, we're up with her now. No one's called her family. They're apparently on a trip. Someone needs to contact them before moving her. No, just following your rules," Buffy said with a sigh. "Yes, I'll take care of it." Scrunching her nose in distaste, Buffy connected to the Council switchboard and asked it to connect her to her sister. Although Willow insisted that it would never grow up to become SkyNet, it gave her the creeps. Demons she understood. This thing reminder her too much of some of those bad sci-fi movies Xander insisted they watch.

"Dawn, I need a favor," Buffy said, as soon as her sister answered .

"What?" Dawn's voice echoed grumpily in her ear .

Buffy didn't need to see her to know she was still angry that she wasn't allowed to come with them for the retrieval. Her voice said it all. "No one down here has been able to get ahold of Andy's parents. And you know how the Doc feels about contacting next of kin."

"Poor Buffy," Dawn said, giggling, her tone clearly amused. "So, where are they?"

"No idea. Some kind of vacation trip. Only Andy knows where they went," Buffy explained.

"And she's not coming up for air any time soon, is she," Dawn murmured.

"Nope. She was worked over real good. Even with slayer healing she's going to be out of action for months," Buffy told her. "And the Doc plans to keep her under as long as possible to give her a better chance to heal. So someone needs to track down her parents. I'm assuming they'll want to stay nearby."

"Got it," Dawn said. "What else do you need?"

"Does Andy's phone still show up on the status monitor?"

"Just a sec..." Buffy could hear her sister talking with someone, though she couldn't make out the words, even with her enhanced hearing. "Yeah, from its coordinates we're guessing some FBI or police hacker has it. Looks like someone's been trying to get into it."

"It's backed up, right?"

"Yup," Dawn said, after another side conversation. "Last time it was turned on."

"Okay, burn it," Buffy told her, trying to sound nonchalant giving the command to turn a ten thousand dollar custom phone into a puddle of molten metal. "And let Riley know in case someone freaks."

"Giles isn't going to be happy," Dawn warned her. "Phones that slayers can't break are very expensive."

"He'll live," Buffy said. "That's one of the reasons Willow picked that model, the remote self destruct. And have your friend set it up so I can access Andy's calendar from my phone."

"Is that possible?" Dawn asked before having another indistinct discussion with her companion. "Okay, she says no problem, but you'll have to sync it with the intranet hub in Andy's office."

"Do what with the what in her office?" Buffy asked in dismay. She thought she'd been dealing with all the tech mumbo-jumbo just fine until that point.

"Geeze, Buffy!" Dawn grumbled. "Join the 21st century. When you get to her office, give me a call. We'll walk you through it."

"Got it. Go to her office and call you."

"Anything else, oh sister mine?" Dawn asked in a saccharine sweet tone that made Buffy's teeth ache.

"Riley's note said we'd have to have a local resource attached if we wanted to deal with this ourselves, but he didn't say who. I need you to get me their name, badge number or whatever, and at least a picture. Anything else you can dig up on them would be great."

"Dental records? Blood type? Kindergarten report card?" Dawn asked, the sarcasm clear in her voice.

"Ah, no," Buffy told her. "Nothing that in depth. A short bio will do it."

"I'll see what I can dig up," Dawn said, her voice becoming faint.

"Good. Thanks. Bye. I'll talk with you in a couple hours," Buffy said, closing the call abruptly .

Buffy paced in the hallway outside of Andy's room, while the Council doctor reviewed her records with the attending physician. It seemed like a long, drawn out process, but the Doc had insisted that they follow her procedures when the Council had hired her on Riley's recommendation the year before.

The no-nonsense attitude of the Doc and her small transport team was very reassuring to Buffy and her own team as they waited. The methodical process had definite stages. Once the paperwork was complete and the hospital staff and the Doc and her team were in agreement about the current condition of Andy, she would be transferred to Council control. If there were no complications, Andy, the Doc, and her team would be transported up to the Council's Hudson Valley office in a borrowed helicopter.

"What's this?" Jo asked, looking down at the folder her former partner had thrown on her desk.

"Possible fashion victim," Mac said gruffly, carefully lowering himself into the chair next to her desk, his cane gripped tightly in one hand.

"How'd you get it away from the Feds?" she asked, reluctant to look at the most recent target of what the press had begun calling the Assistant Killer.

"They said we could have this one," he said, grimacing in distaste .

"Huh?" Jo stared at him in disbelief. The Feds never gave away high profile cases unless they were poison .

"Their profilers say it's an unrelated case," he told her.

"If it wasn't related why did they take it in the first place?" Jo asked.

He just pointed at the folder, waiting for her to open it.

Jo frowned. He'd been on desk duty as acting Sergeant for the squad for three months while his leg healed, and at some point he'd picked up the Lieutenant's cryptic speak. Shaking her head, she opened the folder and started reading.

The location of the attack was the first thing Jo noticed. "Shouldn't this go to the 15th?" she asked.

"Someone in the Commissioner's office must like you," Mac told her with a wry grin. "Or maybe you shouldn't have pissed off the Chief last week?"

"She's still alive?" she asked in surprise, ignoring his comment. The Chief had started out in the 14th and liked to stick her nose in where it didn't belong. Jo liked where she was in her career and had no desire to move up the ladder. She winced as she began reading the doctor's summary of the victim's injuries. "But no statement," she grumbled, sighing.

"Coma patients aren't very talkative," he said.

"She certainly fits the profile," Jo said, looking over the included bio. "Did they give an explanation in writing? If they don't think it's related to the other attacks they must have a good reason."

"The other victims were fired. She left on her own."

"And that's it?" Jo stared at him. "Someone brutally killed five of Miranda Priestly's former assistants. A sixth was attacked and survived but they don't think the attacks are related?"

"She wasn't fired," he said. "She quit."

"What's the difference?" Jo asked, baffled, grimacing down at her cold cup of coffee.

"All of the assistants who were attacked, were fired," he told her. "None of the ones who were promoted have been attacked. And she's the only one who wasn't fired or promoted."

"Miranda Priestly has been at Runway for over a decade and only one of her assistants ever quit?"

"Yup," He said, smirking at her.

"That's not enough. What else is going on with this case?" Jo asked, looking through the file again. After a decade as a detective she could smell the stink in this one a mile away. And not just because a garbage truck had broken down across the street.

"Other than a well connected victim who was beaten worse than the rest, but somehow survived?" he said. "Rumor has it it's a jurisdiction issue, so they passed it to us before they were forced to turn it over to someone else anyway."

"Who do they think she is? Some diplomat's wife?" Jo asked, before digging deeper in the file. "It says here she's just a lawyer," Jo said, holding up an addendum to the bio.

"Not exactly," he said. "It's more who she's a lawyer for."

"There's no current employment history here," Jo complained. "This says she worked for the Mirror for a few months after quitting Runway. And then more quitting to go to law school?"

"Read between the lines," Mac told her, reaching over and pulling out a copy of a hospital admittance form.

"Not seeing it," Jo grumbled, looking down at the document. She didn't recognize the string of characters under employer. "C. of W.S., LLC. What does that even mean?"

"They're an NGO known as 'The Council'," Mac told her. "They have more employees with diplomatic immunity than most embassies. Rumor has it they're into a lot of extra-legal activities and that they have more firepower than half the gangs in the city." He tapped the 3x5 photo of the victim. "I checked with a friend at the Plaza. Not only does she have half the ambassadors in the city on speed dial, she's the lawyer that gets called whenever any of their agents gets involved in a local matter and needs to be bailed out."

"And?" Jo asked, knowing there was a point in there somewhere, other than the bad press the city would probably get if she died.

"If we don't find the perp, they will. And it ain't gonna be pretty."

Jo shook her head in disgust. The City had more than its fare share of untouchable diplomats, but they usually weren't armed. "She's originally from Ohio. Did anyone interview her parents? Friends? Family members? Co-workers?" she asked, starting to pull together information she needed from the file .

"No," Mac said.

"No? She's been in a coma for almost a week," Jo said, gritting her teeth and glaring at him. "What have they been doing?"

Mac shrugged. "Trying to find a sucker to take the case."

"How long do I have?" Jo asked, not having to think too hard to know she was the designated sucker .

"Get them to cooperate and the Chief says you have as long as it takes," Mac said. "But downtown doesn't want to see any more bodies showing up in the press."

"Great," Jo muttered.

Jo stepped out of the elevator. She wasn't sure how seeing the unconscious victim would help in this case but it was something she'd started doing since becoming a homicide detective. When she caught a case like this, the first thing she did after reading the case file was to go see the victim, before the crime scene. Not only did it help when visualizing the crime, she never wanted to forget what her job was about, that there was an actual victim who needed justice .

When she'd called earlier to confirm the location of Sachs, the receptionist in the Intensive Care Unit had warned her that if she wanted to see her today it had to be before lunch. Sachs was being moved to a private hospital later that day.

Stopping at the desk to let them know she was there, she could feel someone watching her. Turning, she spotted a girl sitting in a chair in a small waiting area. She couldn't quite pinpoint it but there was something slightly off about her and the way she seemed to be watching everyone.

Shaking her head, Jo turned back to the receptionist, displaying her badge.

"They give me the creeps," she said to Jo in a low voice. "I'll be glad when they leave."

"Who are they?" Jo asked, wondering what had spooked the receptionist. She hadn't thought to bring any uniforms with her. As a precaution, Sachs' name hadn't been released to the press but no one expected any trouble.

"She brought them with her," she said, visibly shuddering.

"Who?" Jo asked.

"You'll see," the receptionist said cryptically.

Frowning, Jo gave the girl another look before turning and heading in the direction the receptionist had pointed.

She didn't have far to go before she was stopped by a young woman, dressed all in black leather, standing in the hall. Further down the hall, another woman, her blonde hair glinting in the florescent lights, was pacing back and forth in front of a door just about where Jo guessed her destination was.

"You can't go any further," the tall, skinny blonde said, standing in front of her .

"I'm here to see Andrea Sachs," Jo told her, wondering why there wasn't a uniform guarding the room.

"She isn't having any visitors," the blonde told her, her stance giving the impression of immovability, her slender frame vibrating with barely disguised agitation

Not wanting to set her off, Jo carefully pulled out her badge and showed it to the woman. She started in surprise at the quickness of the woman plucking it from her fingers.

"Ms. Summers?" she said softly, holding the badge in the direction of the other woman, without taking her eyes off of Jo.

Jo blinked as the other woman was suddenly much closer without appearing to move. She wasn't that short, but everything about her, from the way her blonde hair floated around her face to her hands, gave the impression of a frail person who would blow away in a stiff wind. She didn't look like someone who would scare the receptionist but her designer suit screamed power to even Jo's jaded eyes.

Before she could say anything, the woman held up a hand in a silencing gesture as she examined Jo's badge. Handing it back, she took out a phone and turned around and spoke to someone for a minute, though Jo couldn't understand what she was saying, she didn't sound very happy.

It didn't take an expert to realize that the woman Leah was blocking was a cop. It was almost as if there were a sign over her head. But it wasn't until Buffy was standing in front of her examining her badge that she felt the very faint familiar echo. Turning around to give herself at least the illusion of privacy, something literally impossible with Leah, Jess, and Vi in listening distance, Buffy stepped back a few feet and called her sister. 

"Dawn? I know it's probably too soon for Riley's office to get back to you but do you at least have a contact name for me?" Buffy asked.

"Maybe," Dawn said.

"It wouldn't happen to be a Detective Polniaczek?" Buffy said, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder.

"Jo Polniaczek? That was quick," Dawn muttered. "They just turned the case over to the city last night. The note from Riley says someone recommended that she be given the case, even though Andy wasn't injured in her precinct. I take it the detective is there now?"

"Yup, she's standing right here," Buffy hissed. "I was hoping to get the Doc and her crew on the road with Andy before we had to deal with the locals. Someone must have told her we were moving Andy today and she rushed over. She obviously couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"She does sound a bit too eager," Dawn said, agreeing with her. "Do you want me to tell Riley you want someone else less aggressive as your contact?"

"Nah, we'll keep her for now," Buffy told her. "We'll see how long the enthusiasm lasts when she finds out she's working with us. But you'll want to do a real background check on her for your little family tree project." 

"She's a slayer?" Dawn said, surprised, her voice almost a squeak.

"No, but she sort of pings like a potential," Buffy said .

"How old is she?"

"Late thirties?" Buffy guessed.

"That's old," Dawn said. "She must have missed the cut-off when Willow did her spell. If she really was a potential, she's the oldest one you or Faith have reported running into," she muttered. "I wonder how she escaped the First?"

"You can tell me what you find out later," Buffy said. She could hear paper rustling in the background as her sister searched for something. 

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'll let you know what I find out." Dawn said, hanging up.

"Leah, you can let her through," Buffy said, turning back around. "The Detective will be working with us on this."    "How much longer?" Leah, asked before stepping to the side to let the Detective pass.

"The Doc should have Andy ready to go in ten. Why don't you go check on Wendy?" Buffy told her.

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's going to be a long couple weeks if they can't learn to say my name," Buffy grumbled before turning her attention to the detective.

"Which would be?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," she said, holding out a hand to the detective. "Buffy Summers, Council Special Projects." Tilting her head, Buffy studied her intently for a moment. The Detective seemed to be very grounded. Hopefully, exposing her to their world wouldn't change that.

"You already know why I'm here," Jo said, frowning slightly under Summers' intent look.

"I know what kind of person should have been assigned to this case," Summers told her with a faint smile. "I'm sure you have a very impressive resume. So what brings you here? I wasn't expecting to meet with anyone from your department until tomorrow."

"I wanted to see her," Jo said, glancing in the direction of Sachs room.

"She's not exactly able to talk," Summers said.

"Understood," Jo said. "I'll also want to talk with her when she wakes up."

"As long as you don't get in the way you can see her," Summers told her. "But if the Doc says to leave, you leave."

Jo nodded and walked to the door. Before she could enter, Summers slipped into the room. Entering right behind her, Jo automatically catalogued its occupants. Summers leaned against the wall to the right of the door. A short red head in jeans and a leather jacket stood at the back of the room, her alertness making her stand out, reminding Jo of a veteran cop on a stakeout, her eyes constantly scanning the room. A tall brunette, in red leather pants and a denim jacket, leaned against the window next to her.

A doctor, his hospital ID in a prominent spot, stood next to a nurse hovering nearby. A short, grey haired woman dressed in a militaristic outfit in a blue so deep it was almost black, her air of authority unmistakable, was carefully unplugging wires from assorted beeping machines Jo didn't recognize and plugging them into something that looked very much like a high tech cot with its own blinking lights along one edge. Another similarly dressed woman, but much younger, seemed to be monitoring Sachs with some kind of gadget while this was going on. The only other male, dressed in the same colors, stood next to her. Jo wondered if he was the muscle since none of the women looked like they could lift their own weight. 

Cautiously stepping to the foot of Sachs' bed, Jo looked down at the battered woman. Other than her face, barely visible under heavy bandages and an oxygen mask, Jo couldn't really see her under the quilted blue robe Sachs seemed to be wearing. Her hands and feet were also covered in gloves and booties made out of a similar material .

There was nothing to see that indicated that this was the same woman in the photograph in the folder on her desk.

"The chopper is here," the tall blonde from the hallway said, entering the room.

"Okay, everybody who's just watching, out!" the grey haired woman stated without stopping what she was doing.

Trying to imprint an image of Sachs' face in her head, Jo felt a hand on her arm .

"That would be us," Summers told her, pulling her out of the room ahead of everyone else. Turning to the other blonde once they were in the hall she said, "Leah, you and Vi have her until she's in the infirmary up at the mansion. Vi will bring you back down in the morning."

"Wendy and I have duty tonight, Ms. Summers," Leah objected. "That's too much for her by herself."

"Jessica and I can cover for you," Summers told her. "I'm sure she won't mind if we join her."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Why don't you go tell Wendy," Summers said before turning to the red head. Jo hadn't completely figured out the relationships between the women in the group but Summers was obviously in charge .

"Vi?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Dawn should have tracked down Andy's parents by the time you get up to the mansion. Take Leah with you when you go to pick them up."

"What about the brat?" Vi asked. "She'll want to crash the party."

"No," Summers told her firmly. "You'll have enough to handle without her tagging along."

"She won't agree," Vi said, clearly amused .

"She'll live," Summers said. She paused for a moment before continuing, "And I'm sure you can think of a dozen ways to convince her to stay home."

Jo wondered who she was talking about in such an amused tone.

Vi shook her head, blushing. "That isn't my fault!" she protested.

"And we all believed you," the other young woman said, laughing as she added, "The first time."

"We'll meet you upstairs," Summers said, shaking her head, her lips twitching. "Come on Jess. You're welcome to tag along Detective, though it won't be anything exciting." Nodding at the others, she started walking towards the elevators. Something about the way she moved caught Jo's attention. Frowning, she watched all of them as she joined them in front of the elevator. There was a animal-like fluidity to the way they moved, reminding her of jungle cats she'd seen at the zoo.

"Why did you send her?" Jo asked, as they stood near the helipad, watching the futuristic looking helicopter disappear into the clouds. Sending the reluctant blonde in place of one of the others didn't fit the picture Jo was building of the group.

"Who?"

"Leah?" Jo said.

"She found Andy," Summers told her. "None of them are girl scouts," Summers said, following Wendy, the youngest looking of the group, in off the roof towards the elevator. "But finding her like that was a shock. It'll do her good to get out of the city. And she needs the closure of knowing that Andy is now safe," she added, pushing the call button.

Jo frowned, looking at the other two women for their reactions. They both shrugged.

"What else can we do for you, Detective?" Summers asked, pushing the button for the hospital parking level.

"When can I see her office?" Jo asked. "Also, seeing her schedule for the week would be helpful." She wasn't sure what she would find, if anything, but tracing Sachs' movements for the week or two before she was attacked was basic detective work. She probably wasn't going to have time to put together the kind of victim profile she preferred, given the sensitivity of the case, but whatever she could find out would be better than the almost nothing in the case file the FBI had sent over.

"Sure, that can be arranged," Summers said. "We're finished here. When did you want to see it? This afternoon? Or tomorrow morning after we meet with your Chief?"

Looking down at her watch, Jo grimaced. She still had paperwork to do for her last case. That would take up a couple hours. And if she missed another parent teacher conference, Rick wouldn't be happy with her. He'd only agreed to joint custody of Jaime after the divorce because she'd promised to be more involved in their daughter's education.

"I have a parent-teacher thing at my daughter's school this afternoon," she told her regretfully. "It'll have to be in the morning."

"Okay. Do you have the address?"

"Yes, it's just a couple streets down from the station."

Buffy had seen her office before, of course, but never without Andy in it. Two small windows looked out onto the busy side street. From the one behind Andy's desk, she could see the coffee shop on the corner, the Chinese restaurant and buffet across the street, and the local clinic at the other end. Her desk was purely functional with a monitor and keyboard on a swinging arm between the desk and wall. She idly wondered why Andy had picked this location.

Sitting behind the desk, Buffy looked up at the three slayers standing in front of her. "We'll have company tomorrow. Jess, why don't you help Wendy and Alex put away things the detective shouldn't see. I need to make a few calls and then I'll do the same in here. And does anyone have a key to Andy's apartment upstairs? I suspect she'll want to give that a look also. 

"I know where she keeps her spare," Alex volunteered. 

"Okay. Just keep in mind that this is Andy's personal space. Try not to be too nosy," Buffy told them. "Just make sure any weapons and obvious Council property is put away."

"We've got it," Jess told her. "Let's go," she said, guiding the others out of the room.

Standing up to close the door, Buffy pulled out her phone, dialing a familiar number.

"Giles, we need someone down here to fill in for Andy while she's out," she said, before he could say hello.

"Do you have anyone in mind?" he asked.

She's the only lawyer I know, so... no," Buffy told him. "Preferably someone who is read-in on Council stuff and won't be afraid of our tag-along."

"Quite right," he said. "I'll see who I can find."

"Use the old fogies on that advisory board you rammed down our throats," Buffy suggested. "They must be good for something, besides pats on the back and tickets to Broadway shows."

"They serve an important function," Giles protested.

"You keep believing that," Buffy told him, trying not to laugh at his offended tone. "Did Dawn tell you our little news?"

"About the Potential detective? Yes."

"Any idea why she didn't become a slayer from Willow's spell?" Buffy asked. "Would have thought she was perfect for it. Or why the First didn't try to kill her when it was chewing through Potentials?"

"We don't know that the First didn't try to eliminate her," Giles corrected. "The two events are likely related. Buffy, when was the last time you looked at the active slayer rolls?"

"It's been a while," she admitted.

"You should talk with your sister," he said. "She knows more about slayer family history than anyone else now living. She's made some fascinating discoveries."

"The point, Giles," Buffy said, "I'm not getting any younger."

"Hrmph..." echoed loudly in her ear. "We have yet to find a current slayer older than you. And all of the potentials who have since become slayers were all too young to become slayers at the time."

"So, I'm always going to be the oldest living slayer?" 

"For the rest of your life, yes," he clarified.

"And these older potentials? They got lucky? They'll never become slayers?"

"Quite."

"Huh." Buffy shook her head. Something to think about later. When she wasn't dealing with this.

"What else  can I do for you?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"The comfort thing with Andy's parents when they show up," Buffy asked. "And don't let Dawn monopolize Vi's time. I have some things I need her to do but she has to be here to do them."

"I'll see what I can do," he told her.

"Thanks Giles!" Buffy said before hanging up and quickly redialing.

"Hey Dawn! So I'm sitting at Andy's desk, and I want to see her calendar and stuff. How do we set that up."

The glare was obvious even a hundred miles away. "Simple, even for you, oh spoilsport," Dawn grumbled.

"Vi's already gone to pick up Andy's parents?"

"Yup, she and Leah left half an hour ago. Some place on the Maine coast with famous lighthouses," Dawn said. "She'll have them here before lunch tomorrow." 

"That's quick," Buffy said. 

"That helicopter we borrowed to pick up Andy was headed in that direction. So they hitched a lift."

"How are they going to get back?" Buffy asked. "It wasn't big enough to hold a car or even her bike."

"The daughter of one of the members of Giles' Board of Trusties lives in Boston. She's lending them a car."

"Okay..." Buffy wondered who it was. "That's generous." 

"Andy has friends everywhere," Dawn told her. "You need find out who hurt her. You do know that, right?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"So, Andy's schedule," Buffy reminded her. "How do I get to it. And is there anything in it our detective can't see?"

"She has several calendars. One is her everything calendar; which combines her personal, eyes only stuff with her work calendar, the other is public."

"You've been poking around in her stuff already?" Buffy asked, only marginally surprised.

"Just a little," Dawn admitted, "but I found that out in her ICO file."

"Her what?"

"I-C-O," Dawn said. "Her 'in case of' file - it's got 'In case of death', 'In case of coma', 'In case of kidnapping'... stuff like that."

"Scarily efficient, our Andy," Buffy muttered, looking around her office as she talked. Even Giles wasn't this organized.

"Yup. And you'll never guess who she says to contact in case of death or coma," Dawn said.

"She's not married. So... her parents," Buffy answered, even though it was obviously the wrong choice.

"Nope, they're in her Council file as next of kin. Her instructions here are completely different."

"Significant other?" Buffy asked, even though if so the slayer rumor mill hadn't picked up on it.

"Not as such," Dawn told her. "Like I said, you'll never guess."

"Okay, who?"

• Oops. Some confusion as to who found Andy after she was attacked. That would be Leah (an OC). Alex (another OC) is now Andy's assistant.

© Copyright 2009 Andy Stoffel. Last update: 10/21/09; 12:04:40 AM. This theme is based on the SoundWaves (blue) Manila theme.