Buffy the Vampire Slayer

POISON CLAN

By Bryan "Blade" Bonner

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Productions, 20^th Century Fox, and Warner Brothers. Original concepts of the Centipede, Snake, Scorpion, Lizard, and Toad are the property of Chang Cheh and Entertainment Programs International (EPI). All other characters and story concept is the property of the author, Bryan A. Bonner. This story is not intended for sale or commercial profit. Any unauthorized reproduction, copying, or use of any portion of this story, without the author’s express permission is prohibited. All rights reserved.

Chapter 2 – Summer Love

Sunnydale, California – Summer 1999

So far, Buffy enjoyed spending this year’s summer vacation in Sunnydale. After the utter annihilation of Sunnydale High, Buffy found a need to spend some quality time with her number one parental unit. Of course, Mama Summers was not going to let Buffy sit idly by, basking in the glow of post high school, pre-college nothingness. Watching "Erika Kane" fall in love yet again on "All My Children", poisoning her already Hellmouth warped mind with the obvious dichotomy of social values trumpeted from "Jerry Springer" and "Oprah", and drinking "Slim Fast" was not what Joyce Summers considered a constructive use of time. Thus Buffy’s part-time summer job at "Express". Having a mall job wasn’t all bad, especially in a fashionable women’s boutique where summer employees get a 30% discount. Buffy’s daytime hours, lack of homework, and used Chevy Nova gave her plenty of time for the nocturnal, extra circular undead extermination activities which had become her trademark. Of course dealing with summer time mall shoppers, especially of the rising high school senior type, dressing headless, limbless mannequins, and being forced to eat mall food for lunch, left a little bit to be desired.

Despite her fashion industry woes, Buffy thought she had it much better than some. While Willow got a head start with advanced calculus and information technology classes at UC Sunnydale, Xander held the ever prestigious, somewhat coveted position of movie usher. The new Sunnydale Loews Multiplex never had a more capable movie-patron engineer than Xander. From Buffy’s perspective, controlling large blockbuster crowds, selling over priced, under sized concession candy, and putting together spools and spools of seemingly endless oily film, into the wee hours of the morning, didn’t seem worth the free popcorn and movie passes Xander would score as part of his "comprehensive" benefits package. Although his post high school life still remained very much uncertain, Xander was determined to go out this summer with a bang, or at least a small fizzle (kind of like "Alka Seltzer" dissolving in a cup of warm water).

Secretly, Buffy welcomed the idea of keeping herself busy during the summer. The more she was doing something else, the less time she had to think about Angel. It had been 4 weeks since Angel vanished from "post apocalyptic" Sunnydale, without much more than his signature stoic stare and wordless goodbye. Buffy welcomed the distractions brought by summer, focusing her mind on coordinating knit tops and matching leather handbags kept her from thinking of her love lost, then found, then lost again. However, working in "Express" helped, not only because of the women’s fashions (which always provided a good last ditch distracter), but because of its joined brother store "Structure".

Other than having fairly cool threads for guys, "Structure" sported the new summer hire, Allen Ryan Michaels. Allen was working part-time at "Structure" during the summer while finishing pre-college courses on the African Diaspora as well as Willow’s information technology course (which is really how they met, through Willow and her "I’ll help you get over Angel campaign". Allen’s working at "Structure" was just a quirky coincidence). Allen was different from most "working mall guys". His independent nature and eclectic taste made him unlike anyone Buffy had met before, with the obvious exception of her two-century plus years old ex-boyfriend. If you asked Allen, that was fine with him. Allen strived to challenge modern conventions and notions about who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going. Student of history and martial arts, collector of comics and rare coins, athlete, jazz, rap, and pop music lover, Allen was certainly in a class by himself. Shy wasn’t a word, which accurately captured Allen’s true essence. Not one to swallow his words, the young college bound student made it clear he had more than a passing interest in Buffy. Never crass or rude, always polite, a perfect gentleman, in his own way Allen made sure Buffy knew he thought she was special. Whether it be lifting heavy boxes of halter tops, sharing a cool strawberry banana smoothie during breaks, or walking her to her car Allen was clearly smitten by the Slayer.

Buffy acknowledged Allen’s interest, but pleasantly kept him at arm’s length. After rebounding a second time for Angel, Buffy wasn’t sure she was ready to "involve" herself in another relationship, let alone having to run the risk of explaining her mysterious disappearances, late night hours, and blood stained clothes.

"You see Allen, into every generation there is born a chosen one. Some young girl selected by fate to fight the forces of darkness…" she thought to herself "yeah, he would understand that just perfectly." Although even the Slayer had to admit to herself, he was kinda cute.

Buffy finished up her final inventory count for the evening, getting herself together for major mocha night at "The Bronze". Willow, Oz, and Xander were probably already in route (tonight Xander didn’t have to work the "South Park" late show).

"You ready Summers?" Allen poked his head around the corner wall, which separated the two stores. Inviting Allen to the Bronze, in a group setting, seemed like a harmless way to "feel him out", getting to know him better without the pressure of a "real date." Plus, Willow had already invited him, so the point was moot.

"Michaels you do realize it all starts here. I mean women’s clothes not only take longer to pick out and put on, but to inventory as well." Buffy and Allen had developed this "last name" thing. On some level, it replaced the "pookie bear, baby, sweetie" names used by true "couples". Buffy and Allen realized that their friendship sometimes adopted "couple" like qualities. Well sharing frozen desserts and taking friendly jibes at one another qualified as at least part couple. Allen however was cognizant enough to realize pushing it beyond this, at least for now, would produce the opposite result he wanted just to spend time with Buffy.

"Excuses, excuses Summers the mall closes in 15 minutes and I took the metro to work this morning, hoping I could catch a ride home with you after ‘mocha’."

Buffy smiled wryly "Much like other powerful women throughout time, it seems I have you, a man, at a disadvantage. I think this is a step up for women’s rights."

"You wouldn’t make a poor college student walk home alone, at night, when things go bump in the night, in a town where high school’s explode and student’s disappear mysteriously…would you?"

If only Allen knew how many things really went bump in the night.

"That all depends. Do I have to buy my own mochas?" Buffy’s "cat catching the canary" expression solidified her confident upper hand.

"Always an angle with you Summers, isn’t it."

The Bronze kicked with retro dance energy as "80’s Night" seemed as if it were a huge success. Representatives of generation y, x, and some scary baby boomers crowded the dance floor as the disc jockey spun "Walk This Way" by Run-DMC and Aerosmith. Making their way across to the "mocha" bar, Buffy and Allen spotted the rest of the weary summer day Scooby Gang, each slothed on nearby, suede couches enjoying double chocolate mochas, with whipped cream delight.

"Don’t everybody get up at once" Buffy dropped down on the couch between Willow and Oz.

"Man, what a day. I swear if another screaming parent jumps in my chest because they didn’t know Eric Cartman and friends were a bunch of foul mouth eight year olds, before they took their kids to see it, I’m gonna go "Friday the 13^th" on them."

"Of course Xander, if you go horror movie wiggy, you’re likely to kill me first."

"Oh really Allen? Why? Is it because you’re smart, funny, witty, and have a really cool job?!?" Xander’s sarcasm swallowed his words.

"No because the sole black guy always gets the ax first in horror movies, its like a motion picture rule or something." Allen chuckled as Xander’s frustration turned to laughter. "Anyone want another mocha, I’m treating? Don’t worry Summers, I know I owe you the obligatory mocha supreme as payment for ride-age home."

"I’ve trained him well" Buffy smiled confidently.

"Free mochas, I’m in!" Xander pounded down the last of his remaining mocha, his top lip covered in luscious whipped cream.

"Very stylish Xander, edible moustaches are all the talk in Europe. Allen, make sure the mocha has extra chocolate shavings on top."

"Your wish is my command. Willow, Oz…anything for you guys?"

"No, I’m good thanks" Oz continued to sip on his mocha.

"He’s good, I should know. But not in a bad or naughty way I should know, but in a ‘I’m dating’ him way I should know because well we’re dating and I would know that stuff about him because of that and…" Willow found herself plummeting uncontrollably down the slippery slope of the nonsensical as she tried to bail herself out of a somewhat precarious social snafu.

"Willow…shhhhhhhhhhh" Oz was a man of few words.

While slipping into chocolate decadence and meandering teenage conversation, the sounds of Run-DMC were eventually replaced by Poison, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, Duran Duran, Wang Chung, Wham, and finally The Fat Boys.

"Hey guys, check out my ‘human beat box’" Xander began doing his level best at paying tribute to the Fat Boy’s human beat machine, in the process spraying everyone in the immediate vicinity with a healthy dose of mocha whip creamed saliva.

"Psssssssssssss…Oz what’s that sound?"

"Not sure Allen. Wait I think I recognize it, it’s a ‘coolness’ leak. There is a definite shortage of ‘coolness’ in the immediate area."

"Coolness leak! Where could it be coming from? Wait, I’ve isolated the source, it appears to be mysteriously coming Xander’s general direction."

Xander realized he was busted…big time. His friends weren’t going to let this one go anytime soon.

"That’ll be 5 coolness points, plus another 2 to plug up that leak" Allen held out his hand expectedly.

"Man, 7 cool points. I’m already in a negative decline" Xander slapped the imaginary cool points in Allen’s hand.

"Look at this way Xander" Buffy piped in "at this rate your deficit may out last the national one. Maybe Bubba Clinton can help you out. Let’s cruise Michael’s I’ve got to open tomorrow."

"Its been fun gang. Oz, as always, you’re a man of few words."

"I speak softly, but I carry a big…bass guitar" Oz smiled at his RossevelTien tribute.

"Will catch you dudes in the AM. Peace out." Allen held out his arm, providing Buffy an obvious invitation to be escorted. Willow’s "what are you waiting for stare" was more than enough to prompt Buffy to accept Allen’s surfacely romantic, yet truly platonic offer.

Making their way out of the club, Buffy and Allen found themselves alone as they headed towards Buffy’s car.

"Summers, can I ask you something?"

"What’s on your mind, well other than all that chocolate we consumed?"

"I’m not one to beat around the bush, so why won’t you let yourself get close to me? I mean I really like you, I try in my own way to let you know. I don’t want to be pushy or rude, but…is it the interracial thing? Is it because I’m black?"

Buffy was shocked, surprised, and offended all at the same time. Buffy hadn’t expected Allen to reach the "why can’t we be closer" stage for at least a few more weeks. In Buffy’s mind Allen’s race was never an issue, in fact it was non-existent. To think Allen would even consider such a thing seemed inexcusable. Did he think so little of her? Did he think her to be so shallow? Did he think her to be racist? Before Buffy could erupt in sea of self righteous soap box standing, she remembered how she kept Allen at a distance, for his own protection and hers. In her efforts to protect herself from heartbreak and protect Allen from heart loss…literally (demons were not above the occasional heart removal), Buffy had conveyed the wrong message about why she couldn’t…wouldn’t get closer. Truth be told, she did like Allen, at least she thought she did. Her feelings for Allen were awash in a storm of emotions caused by Angel’s second departure. Although Buffy sent him away once, in order to prevent hell on earth, Buffy couldn’t help but think she was just ass responsible for Angel’s second departure form her life. In her effort to prevent confusion, she had only nurtured and cultivated it.

"Allen, it has nothing to do with the pigmentation in your skin. Before you there was this guy, we were serious…it ended poorly, just before summer… I didn’t want to rebound into another relationship, then you came along and…well you were nice, funny, cute, but I wasn’t sure…" Buffy found herself victim to Willow’s earlier nonsensical downhill rambling.

"Summers, I hate to interrupt, really this was starting to get good" Allen’s voice was a little serious "but do you know those five people around your car? They look a little shady" Allen’s New York City street "spider sense" was tingling.

Although Buffy didn’t know who they were, she nonetheless recognized them. Only one type of crowd travels in packs at 12am in Sunnydale. "Vampires" she thought to herself "just what I don’t need right now."