August 3 - Meetings
Twisted Shorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge - Day 3
Title: Meetings
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Psych
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Psych people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Buffy ends up in Santa Barbara after sending Angel to Hell
Notes: Inspired by SpikesSlayer’s Challenge 3402 on TTH
Seasons: Post “Becoming Part 2”/Season 1
Characters: Buffy, Henry, Shawn, Gus
Word Count: 1274
Buffy couldn’t believe an entire year had passed. She had sent Angel to Hell and lost everything she knew in 12 hours. Then she boarded a bus bound for L.A.
She liked to believe that she made the decision, but it was just as likely Fate had stepped in. When she arrived mid-morning in L.A. there had been a woman arguing with a man which resulted the woman throwing her ticket away. However, the wind kept the ticket from making its target. Instead, it had landed at Buffy’s feet.
A ticket to Santa Barbara for Beth.
For a year, that’s what she projected to the world. A GED-recipient working as a file clerk during the day. At night she avoided notice, doing the bare minimum to keep the vampires at bay, since she only slayed if she happened upon them. She no longer hunted.
It was also a year ago that she met a very nice man. Henry Spencer had been in line behind her as she tried to buy a little food. He had taken pity on her and paid the nearly two-dollar difference in her grocery bill. Not one to take so freely, she had approached him at his pale yellow truck. For several intense seconds he had stared at her when she requested a task to pay him back.
“What was the cashier’s name?” he asked her.
“Chris M.,” she replied, recalling the name tag on the rude and critical cashier who had set out to humiliate her.
“And the cashier behind him?”
“Abby.”
“What was on the aisle three promotion closest to the doors?”
“Store brand paper towels.”
“What kind of shoes was the cashier wearing?”
Buffy frowned. “Something black.”
He nodded. “Crocs, with a scuff on the toe that suggests he bicycles to work.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I just moved back into the city, my house needs some fixing up and the lawn has been allowed to over grow,” he grimaced. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” she lied looking him in the eye.
“What’s your name?”
“B-Beth.”
“It’s nice to meet you Beth. I’m Henry.” He held out a hand and waited for her to shake it.
That had been the beginning of an interesting friendship. Buffy worked to clean his overgrown yard and repair a few of the damaged things around the property. In exchange he had helped her find a job, start the process of testing for her GED, and he had started training her in observation. While it had never been her best skill, she had quickly realized there were details she had always been focusing in on during a fight, like weaknesses. She had slowly learned to do it when she walked into a room.
She lived in a studio apartment on the wrong side of town because it allowed her to save her money. A small surprising windfall, in the form of a birthday lottery ticket from a co-worker, had given her enough to buy an adequate front for a training space.
Buffy texted Henry. I’ve got a surprise, meet me at this address.
88888888
Henry tensed when his phone chirped. It was on the kitchen table. Between him and it was his son, Shawn, and his son’s lifelong friend, Gus. He started forward, determined to keep his son from the phone. But he was too slow.
Shawn had spun around and picked up the phone. He had to read the text twice before he looked up at his father.
“Who is Beth?”
“No one,” Henry barked. “Give me my phone, Shawn.” He had not wanted his son to find out about the young woman who he’d come to view as a surrogate daughter.
Shawn kept it just out of reach while he scrolled the message again for any hidden context.
Fed up, Henry managed to snatch the phone back. He took a moment read the latest message and nearly groan. The address would almost guarantee his son would go over there and “investigate” Beth. He had to decide, quickly.
88888888
Buffy smiled when she heard Henry’s truck. She put down the broom and raced for the door. She stepped outside and watched him climb out of the truck. Her smile stilled as two other men climbed out of the truck.
She was almost certain she knew who they were. But why would Henry bring them? Not long ago, she had caught Henry filing news articles. Curious she had grabbed a paper on the way home. On page six she had found it. A picture of the two men, Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster. They worked with the Santa Barbara Police Department as consultants. Shawn claimed to be a psychic.
Her enhanced hearing allowed her to catch the tail-end of their conversation.
“…you embarrass me or Beth, I will get you arrested,” Henry hissed.
“Wouldn’t take much for Lassiter to put him in cuffs,” Gus acknowledged.
“Gus!” Shawn said in a slightly wounded tone.
Henry waved him quiet and increased his pace. He reached Buffy too late to do more than give an apologetic smile.
Trying to control her slight panic, Buffy pasted a smile on her face.
“Beth, this is my son Shawn and his best friend Gus,” Henry introduced. “Shawn, Gus, this is Beth…she’s a friend.”
“Little young for you, isn’t she, dad?” Shawn snarked.
Buffy had to resist the immediate need to defend Henry. She sensed it was what Shawn wanted - a rise out of one or both of them. She placed a hand on her hip and simply stared at them.
Gus had a slightly worried expression on his handsome face as his eyes darted between Shawn and Henry. He honestly spared her only a cursory glance, as though afraid if he took his eyes off of the Spencers he would miss something.
Shawn did not share many key features with Henry. But as they squared off, she could see the resemblance in stance and the look of determination they both had. Shawn had handsome features, including a long straight nose, an unshaven face, and hair that defied gravity.
‘Like Angel,’ she thought. The thought of her former lover only caused a minor moment of pain before she was able to breathe through it.
“Apologize Shawn!” Henry demanded.
“Don’t bother,” Buffy found herself saying. “For a man claiming to be a psychic, you’re incredibly…unobservant.”
Gus looked at her in surprise. Even he hadn’t stepped in between the Spencer dispute.
“Did she just…?” Shawn asked Gus.
“She did,” Gus confirmed.
His gaze took in various parts of her. He put his fingers to his temple. “I’m sensing you’re an active person, likely karate or boxing. Your job involves lots of paper. You recently gained a windfall.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked at Henry. “Is that all he’s got?”
“What was that?” Shawn asked.
“You can see the callouses on my hands and the abrasions on my knuckles. The dryness of my fingers and splitting indicates paperwork, like a secretary. My shoes are new, non-scuffed, and retail for $130. While they coordinate with my clothes, my jacket and jeans are well-worn.”
Henry smiled at the shock looked on Shawn’s face.
“You taught her…” Shawn’s headed swiveled between her and Henry.
“She proved a very adept student,” Henry told them. “And she enjoyed learning.”
“Which reminds me,” she waved them towards the door to the small studio. “I did win a bit from a birthday gift. I bought a space.” She opened the door and stepped through into a 20x30 studio. It was going to need a bit of work. “Welcome to the Hellmouth, Santa Barbara’s newest defensive learning center.”
Title: Meetings
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Psych
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Psych people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Buffy ends up in Santa Barbara after sending Angel to Hell
Notes: Inspired by SpikesSlayer’s Challenge 3402 on TTH
Seasons: Post “Becoming Part 2”/Season 1
Characters: Buffy, Henry, Shawn, Gus
Word Count: 1274
Buffy couldn’t believe an entire year had passed. She had sent Angel to Hell and lost everything she knew in 12 hours. Then she boarded a bus bound for L.A.
She liked to believe that she made the decision, but it was just as likely Fate had stepped in. When she arrived mid-morning in L.A. there had been a woman arguing with a man which resulted the woman throwing her ticket away. However, the wind kept the ticket from making its target. Instead, it had landed at Buffy’s feet.
A ticket to Santa Barbara for Beth.
For a year, that’s what she projected to the world. A GED-recipient working as a file clerk during the day. At night she avoided notice, doing the bare minimum to keep the vampires at bay, since she only slayed if she happened upon them. She no longer hunted.
It was also a year ago that she met a very nice man. Henry Spencer had been in line behind her as she tried to buy a little food. He had taken pity on her and paid the nearly two-dollar difference in her grocery bill. Not one to take so freely, she had approached him at his pale yellow truck. For several intense seconds he had stared at her when she requested a task to pay him back.
“What was the cashier’s name?” he asked her.
“Chris M.,” she replied, recalling the name tag on the rude and critical cashier who had set out to humiliate her.
“And the cashier behind him?”
“Abby.”
“What was on the aisle three promotion closest to the doors?”
“Store brand paper towels.”
“What kind of shoes was the cashier wearing?”
Buffy frowned. “Something black.”
He nodded. “Crocs, with a scuff on the toe that suggests he bicycles to work.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I just moved back into the city, my house needs some fixing up and the lawn has been allowed to over grow,” he grimaced. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” she lied looking him in the eye.
“What’s your name?”
“B-Beth.”
“It’s nice to meet you Beth. I’m Henry.” He held out a hand and waited for her to shake it.
That had been the beginning of an interesting friendship. Buffy worked to clean his overgrown yard and repair a few of the damaged things around the property. In exchange he had helped her find a job, start the process of testing for her GED, and he had started training her in observation. While it had never been her best skill, she had quickly realized there were details she had always been focusing in on during a fight, like weaknesses. She had slowly learned to do it when she walked into a room.
She lived in a studio apartment on the wrong side of town because it allowed her to save her money. A small surprising windfall, in the form of a birthday lottery ticket from a co-worker, had given her enough to buy an adequate front for a training space.
Buffy texted Henry. I’ve got a surprise, meet me at this address.
88888888
Henry tensed when his phone chirped. It was on the kitchen table. Between him and it was his son, Shawn, and his son’s lifelong friend, Gus. He started forward, determined to keep his son from the phone. But he was too slow.
Shawn had spun around and picked up the phone. He had to read the text twice before he looked up at his father.
“Who is Beth?”
“No one,” Henry barked. “Give me my phone, Shawn.” He had not wanted his son to find out about the young woman who he’d come to view as a surrogate daughter.
Shawn kept it just out of reach while he scrolled the message again for any hidden context.
Fed up, Henry managed to snatch the phone back. He took a moment read the latest message and nearly groan. The address would almost guarantee his son would go over there and “investigate” Beth. He had to decide, quickly.
88888888
Buffy smiled when she heard Henry’s truck. She put down the broom and raced for the door. She stepped outside and watched him climb out of the truck. Her smile stilled as two other men climbed out of the truck.
She was almost certain she knew who they were. But why would Henry bring them? Not long ago, she had caught Henry filing news articles. Curious she had grabbed a paper on the way home. On page six she had found it. A picture of the two men, Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster. They worked with the Santa Barbara Police Department as consultants. Shawn claimed to be a psychic.
Her enhanced hearing allowed her to catch the tail-end of their conversation.
“…you embarrass me or Beth, I will get you arrested,” Henry hissed.
“Wouldn’t take much for Lassiter to put him in cuffs,” Gus acknowledged.
“Gus!” Shawn said in a slightly wounded tone.
Henry waved him quiet and increased his pace. He reached Buffy too late to do more than give an apologetic smile.
Trying to control her slight panic, Buffy pasted a smile on her face.
“Beth, this is my son Shawn and his best friend Gus,” Henry introduced. “Shawn, Gus, this is Beth…she’s a friend.”
“Little young for you, isn’t she, dad?” Shawn snarked.
Buffy had to resist the immediate need to defend Henry. She sensed it was what Shawn wanted - a rise out of one or both of them. She placed a hand on her hip and simply stared at them.
Gus had a slightly worried expression on his handsome face as his eyes darted between Shawn and Henry. He honestly spared her only a cursory glance, as though afraid if he took his eyes off of the Spencers he would miss something.
Shawn did not share many key features with Henry. But as they squared off, she could see the resemblance in stance and the look of determination they both had. Shawn had handsome features, including a long straight nose, an unshaven face, and hair that defied gravity.
‘Like Angel,’ she thought. The thought of her former lover only caused a minor moment of pain before she was able to breathe through it.
“Apologize Shawn!” Henry demanded.
“Don’t bother,” Buffy found herself saying. “For a man claiming to be a psychic, you’re incredibly…unobservant.”
Gus looked at her in surprise. Even he hadn’t stepped in between the Spencer dispute.
“Did she just…?” Shawn asked Gus.
“She did,” Gus confirmed.
His gaze took in various parts of her. He put his fingers to his temple. “I’m sensing you’re an active person, likely karate or boxing. Your job involves lots of paper. You recently gained a windfall.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked at Henry. “Is that all he’s got?”
“What was that?” Shawn asked.
“You can see the callouses on my hands and the abrasions on my knuckles. The dryness of my fingers and splitting indicates paperwork, like a secretary. My shoes are new, non-scuffed, and retail for $130. While they coordinate with my clothes, my jacket and jeans are well-worn.”
Henry smiled at the shock looked on Shawn’s face.
“You taught her…” Shawn’s headed swiveled between her and Henry.
“She proved a very adept student,” Henry told them. “And she enjoyed learning.”
“Which reminds me,” she waved them towards the door to the small studio. “I did win a bit from a birthday gift. I bought a space.” She opened the door and stepped through into a 20x30 studio. It was going to need a bit of work. “Welcome to the Hellmouth, Santa Barbara’s newest defensive learning center.”