Successor (BTVS)

[X][EPISODE] Dollhouse (Cynthia Danvers POV)


INT. CITY HALL - WILKINS' OFFICE - DAY
Wilkins is paging through a sheaf of papers at this desk. Cynthia is standing nervously in front, visibly younger than we're used to.
WILKINS: Well gosh, I just don't know what to say.
CYNTHIA: I apologize sincerely, Mr. Mayor. Clearly my efforts were inadequate. I can only ask-
WILKINS: Ah, shucks, no, Cynthia, don't worry. This is great! Nobody's gotten the inventory done up so nice since I started working here! And you know how long that's been.
CYNTHIA: Oh. Yes, of course. Are you sure you like it?
WILKINS: I like it so much that I know exactly what I have to do! You're promoted. We haven't had an office manager here since the last one was eaten, and he wasn't a spot on you, I know that for a fact.
CYNTHIA: Thank you so much, Mr. Mayor!


INT. CITY HALL - STAIRS - DAY
Cynthia descends the staircase a little cautiously, but without the shock or horror a normal bystander would have at the blood and death.
CYNTHIA: It's very reassuring you're here. Digby's been pretty unstable since he came back with what was left of the thugs yesterday, I wasn't sure that he wouldn't just kill us all out of spite.
BUFFY: Ah, thanks? You seem to know me, but I don't think I know you?
CYNTHIA: Oh, of course, I'm Cynthia Danvers, your office manager. I make sure everything runs smoothly inside City Hall, buying necessary supplies, handling payroll and so on. Mayor Wilkins also liked to have me make sure everything was kept very clean. There's a full bath upstairs, and I can even get you a change of clothes if you like. I think there's something appropriate in your size?
BUFFY: I didn't know I even had an office.


EXT. FOREST CLEARING - NIGHT
ANGLE: INSIDE MINIVAN
CYNTHIA: Don't hesitate on my account. I'm already aware.
BUFFY: What? You're aware of, umm-
Cynthia turns on the car radio to help prevent eavesdropping.
CYNTHIA: The relationship between you and your paramour. You need not be alarmed. After all, if you can't trust your secretary, who can you trust?

EXT. ABANDONED LA STREET - NIGHT
A three-legged chaos demon is escaping Buffy's team on a strange bicycle as they fail to pepper it with crossbow bolts. Harmony makes an excellent show of firing an arrow from her new bow, only to miss even more terribly than the others.
HARMONY: What? I spent all my time in Archery Club trying to look sexy, not trying to hit stuff!
Just before the demon finishes its escape, Cynthia's minivan speeds out of an alleyway and runs it over, sending the bike flying out of the shot. It then proceeds to back over the unmoving demon and run back over it a third time.
Cynthia exits the minivan and casually inspects the demon, confirming its death.
CYNTHIA: I believe that's one for me. Now, where do we need to go next?

INT. VANESSA'S HOUSE - NIGHT
VANESSA: And there wasn't quite a plan, really. Not as such. Weeks before Graduation, before you… defeated Faith, Richard gave me instructions in the event of his disappearance or his death. Faith was to become mayor. Officially. I'd have access to his accumulated blackmail, and he told me the people in Sacramento I'd need to push on to get it done. He said that it was very important that she officially be mayor, and that the town perceive her as such.
BUFFY: So when he bit it at graduation, you improvised. What, was I the backup plan?
VANESSA: Not Richard's. But the chaos after graduation was very real. You were a solution to the problem, and I already had everything ready to make it so. I made certain leading comments around Cynthia, Ian, even poor unstable Digby. None of them were very hard to convince of your rising fortunes, and they all reacted very predictably to the idea.


Serve The Mayor.

Cynthia woke up, fresh and ready for a new day. A cursory glance to the digital at her bedside showed it was 9:57 AM, confirming she hadn't overslept. She never had, but still, it paid to be sure. In an oft-repeated motion she deactivated the alarm as she got out of bed and then began the daily race to get herself ready for work.

As always, her first task of the day was putting her bed back in order. She had a habit of sleeping restlessly, and it was always such a mess when she awoke. She couldn't ever remember her dreams, and it was a bit of a shame. It could be a point of commonality with Mayor Summers. Something to brighten her day.

Regrets aside, it wasn't long before the bed was restored to shipshape, with tight sheets and a straight blanket. She didn't expect to have visitors anytime soon, but it still paid dividends to keep things tidy. Back before, she'd always made sure to keep her home as clean as possible just in case Richard should ever find reason to visit, and she'd kept in the habit.

The clock read 9:59 now. She'd gone two whole minutes today without thinking about him. It was always very nice, in those early moments before she remembered. He'd been gone since that fateful day, and her world had died a little bit with him.

Except he hadn't been gone, not really. She still wasn't sure what to think about that.

Serve The Mayor.

Her morning ablutions had become more efficient recently, with CyberWillow reading administrative correspondence to her as she dictated appropriate responses. Her assistance was a luxury she wouldn't normally abuse like this, but the precious (but necessary) minutes she used to shower, dry, and style would otherwise be lost, and she'd been assured that the impact on CyberWillow's overall efficiency was nil. Times changed, she supposed.

The San Francisco Chronicle was requesting an interview, and Cynthia worded a polite decline. Mayor Summers had little need to appease the press, and had avoided enough similar offers already that the pattern was apparent. The school board wanted to hire college students to lead extracurriculars for the children; she approved the funds on the condition City Hall vetted the name and ID of each beforehand. It wouldn't do to have Initiative agents poking around in more places than they already were. There were three new applications for the recently freed-up liquor license; one was half-Kaohsiung demon, and she put him through to the next stage of the process. Sunnydale didn't have a sake bar, and his heritage made it more likely he would be appropriately deferential to the mayor.

Cynthia opened her closet and took today's dress mechanically, the majority of her attention still on the minor decisions of the day. When she finally looked at it though, she stopped short. All those pretty pink flowers were arranged in just the right way. It was as beautiful as it had been the first moment she'd seen it.


Richard had given it to her for Christmas last year. She knew that in the balance of things, he was not a good man. But he had been good to her. There was always a kind word, a flattering smile, an affectionate gesture. He was dashing, but reliable. Handsome while being distinguished. He didn't flaunt his wealth, nor did he clutch at it like a miser.

Of course, nothing inappropriate had ever come of it. That just wasn't his way, and he'd always concealed a deep sadness over the loss of his wife, long before Cynthia had ever met him.

The world had been lesser when he was dead, but it was also easier.

Serve The Mayor.

After the dress, she applied a couple more finishing touches to her appearance, and then she did a quick round of cleaning through the house. She didn't spend a great deal of time (or really, much waking time at all) here, so it wasn't much but a spot check. The basement door was looking slightly mildewed however, and she popped it open to check on the extent of the problem.

Nobody Goes Into The Basement.

She closed the door again, before she even got it open all the way. Obviously things were fine here, and she'd best head in to work. Mayor Summers didn't have the same exacting attitude towards cleanliness anyway, and would likely disapprove of spending excessive time on it with matters of more import waiting.

The drive to City Hall was quick and uneventful. Sunnydale never saw particularly bad traffic, and Cynthia was on the road late enough to miss what morning rush there was. It was moderately distressing to be coming in so late, but she had to cover Mayor Summers' schedule properly. There was really no other choice.

It wasn't that dire, really; Mayor Summers needed more sleep than Cynthia got by with and wouldn't wake for hours yet. She wasn't missing opportunities to help her directly. But there was still much that needed doing, even without her august presence. For all that the new City Council was much more proactive than those Richard had selected, not all of them were very used to the ways things were done in Sunnydale. Not yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"We need to expand west from here this week, about one hundred feet. The exact details are all in the plans, as usual." Carl Gervais handed said plans over, more bemused than scared. He wasn't technically a city councilor, but his uncle probably couldn't have handled the ladder safely.

The taxxon demon carefully took the graphing paper from him in its crablike claws and unfolded it, bringing all four of its red jelly eyes to bear. She gave it the benefit of the flashlight she was using even if it wasn't strictly necessary; taxxons had excellent vision in the dark, but it paid to be polite.


"It can understand those?" Carl asked frankly. "I thought we'd have to pantomime, or-

The taxxon made a dismissive spurt, and then rolled all four of its eyestalks.

"He's new." Cynthia sighed. Carl could be trying at times. Richard certainly wouldn't have let a direct challenger survive. Mayor Summers had a good heart, but sometimes she worried that she could be a little soft.

Serve The Mayor.

The taxxon went back to studying, and Carl went quiet, abashed.

The sewer they were standing in was part of the network that serviced UC Sunnydale, on the other side of campus from the Initiative base. It wasn't quite up to the exacting standards they kept downtown, but compared to the abominations that lurked under most of America it was very sanitary and well organized.

The taxxon finally finished his examination, and then spoke to them in a collection of sputters, squees and hisses which she could understand perfectly. For Carl's benefit however, CyberWillow translated, eschewing her normal echoes and altering her voice to better match the taxxon's unique register, complete with the stretched out vowels and sibilants. It seemed almost comically exaggerated, but CyberWillow's motives were not always transparent.

"This is thirty-seven percent more excavation than the usual. Last week was thirty-one. Our prior arrangement was not made with these numbers in mind."

She noticed Carl sniggering slightly at the AI's antics, but at least he was trying to keep a straight face now. She'd better be the one to answer, "I know it's been more than you're used to lately, but I don't set the construction schedule."

The new construction here was important to the Dean and had been a vital part of the deal securing the new school building, but she privately thought things were going a touch too fast. The people involved would be cutting corners and that could lead to shoddy work.

Not on the city's side at least, if she had any say in it. Treee-shriklaa was a contractor she'd known for years and the pinnacle of reliability in his work.

It made some more noises, followed by another translation. "If this increase is consistent, I must insist on extra considerations."

Carl stepped in before she could reply, finally looking serious again, "There's a lot to do right now, but it'll calm down in a month or two and then you'll have a string of easy weeks. In the long run you're still getting the better end of the deal." He'd transitioned from ignorant speciesism to smooth negotiations pretty fast, she'd give him that.

The taxxon waved its upper body back and forth in a lazy manner, seeming to consider its options before speaking again. "There's also the issue with the human tunnellers. I've heard rumor of more conflict. You do not pay me to fight, yet I will work in a combat zone."

"I admit that diplomatic relations between the Initiative and our civil government are at an ebb," she began. "But I can give you every assurance of your safety here. The Initiative has to appease the college too, and your work is very important to the new construction keeping on schedule. You're the last demon who needs to worry about being snatched."

"Screee," the one syllable response was much shorter than anything he'd said before.

"The expression has no direct translation, but is most analogous to 'Promises, Promises'" CyberWillow provided.

Carl didn't have a good answer to that, but she'd anticipated the taxxon might have cold tarsi, and saved the best for last.

"I can provide you with an official radio for emergencies," she handed it hers, knowing CyberWillow would change the settings appropriately. She'd been keeping a spare in her car for situations like this. "You'll also find we've secured an additional arrangement for you at the new butcher's shop on Mayfield street."

"That will be adequate," the taxxon answered very quickly this time. Its body language was more excited now, belying the indifferent words. It was clearly anticipating the prospect of extra meals.

"Excellent. We'll drop your advance after we go." The taxxon's anticipation grew as they left it behind in the dark and climbed up the ladder, but it kept itself under a semblance of control. For now.

"Did you really set something up with that new meat place already?" Carl asked. "Wasn't it Henderson who bought it? I didn't figure him to be the type to know about all this."

"Butchers tend to see a lot of the night life, even outside of Sunnydale," Cynthia replied.

When they reached the surface, she went to the back of her minivan and popped the trunk, revealing a large red cooler.

"It wouldn't have been better to give him this before we talked?" Carl asked. "It's harder to deal with a guy hungry, and I gotta imagine that applies to demons too."

She raised a single eyebrow at him, but didn't reply right away. Instead, she picked up the cooler, moved it to the manhole, and in a practiced motion, she opened it and quickly dumped all the raw offal through and into the sewers. Not a drop of blood splashed onto the rim or the ladder.

The response from below was instantaneous and ravenous, the restrained behavior of before melting into a wild frenzy of consumption. It was pretty loud even after she slid the cover on, and Carl looked around nervously, as if someone might notice and come to investigate. A ten foot centipede could make a lot of noise.

"Treee-shrikala has exceptional self control for a taxxon, to resist attacking normal humans in everyday conditions," she said leadingly.

Carl finally looked afraid. "But the demons are all terrified of Buffy right? It has to know that if anything happened to us, its ass would be grass."

"Accidents happen," Cynthia continued. "Best not to encourage them."


"Are you sure we can handle this on our own?" Larry Truman asked as his motorboat carried the two of them out into the harbor. He looked hesitant now, despite being eager to help solve the problem when they'd talked over the phone.

"Entirely," Cynthia said. "It's really a very simple procedure. Relaxing even."

Tucked away from the mess of industry that was the docks, Sunnydale had a nicer harbor meant purely for recreational boats and fishing. It was a hotspot for those who lived in the mansions on the edges of the city and populated the country club, the wealthy core of Larry's constituency as a city councillor.

This was why he was the first to hear about complaints. The picturesque fall day on the water was spoiled by a rash of sea snot that had appeared this morning. The white gooey stuff oozed up to the top and produced a foul odor, so it was a priority to deal with it whenever it got out of control.

Once they got out far enough, just beyond the bay and into the ocean proper, Cynthia directed him to stop, and then went to get the rods. Larry looked glum, but when she attached the lure and handed him one, he was surprised.

"Oh! Heh-heh, you really got me there. I thought we were going to use the kittens," he said. She'd brought a basket of them along with the fishing supplies.

"Of course not," she shook her head. "It wouldn't serve anyone to throw a litter of Siamese into the ocean to drown."

"Sure, sure. Just, you never know these days. But what are we trying to catch, sharks? I've never seen a lure like this." He shook the metal sphere experimentally, producing a tinny noise that seemed to hang in the air.

"Rather bigger game than that, I'm afraid," she answered. Then with a practiced flick, she cast her rod and sent the lure flying far away from the boat.

That got him nervous again, rather predictably. "You're sure we can handle this on our own? This isn't a very big boat."

"Just cast, reel, and repeat. I've done this dozens of times," she said amicably.

"I always wondered how it always got cleared up so fast. I've heard this can be a big problem when it happens in other places." Despite his worries, he followed her example. His casts went even further than hers; clearly he had plenty of experience.

Despite the unusual scenery and the smell, or maybe in part because of it, Cynthia felt herself relaxing into a comfortable rhythm. The wind in her face, the bright glare off the white surface, the mewling of the kittens, it brought her back to simpler times.

This had been her responsibility for years, but the first time Richard had taken her out on the water himself, to get her used to the procedure. What a wonderful afternoon on the water they'd spent. It was a memory she'd always treasure.

Serve The Mayor.

The better part of an hour later, their guest surfaced fifty yards distant from the boat. The waves he created were still easily enough to shake them around, and she had to be careful to avoid any water splashing up onto her dress.

Meanwhile, Larry dropped his rod in terror. "We can't catch that! That looks like it's going to catch us!"

"We aren't trying to catch him," she said evenly. "The lures were merely a tool for attracting him here to solve our little problem."

The demonic whale was massive, his wide dark body covered with armor plates and faded scars. He was well colonized with not just barnacles but also spots of jagged coral, and in truth, Cynthia didn't begrudge Larry his fear. It was lucky that the sea snot always drove the civilians away from the water, or this might cause a panic.

She'd been shaken herself the first time, before Richard's reassuring words had settled her down.

Serve The Mayor.

The whale paddled slowly up to them, realizing their boat was too small to be safe in his presence, and waited expectantly. He'd done this enough times himself that any negotiations would be perfunctory.

Instead, she simply took the basket of kittens and poured them over the side. Larry could only watch in stunned horror.

A current kicked up underneath them immediately as water flowed towards the demon whale, and the kittens struggled piteously as they were drawn into the inexorable flow.

"Is it going to eat us too?" Larry whispered to her, as if he was afraid the whale would hear. A moment's thought and he would've realized it certainly could (it had heard the tiny bells from leagues away, after all), but he was in a bit of a state. Such lapses could be excused.

"Don't be silly," she said. "It's baleen are far too small for us, and even if they weren't, it would choke."

A closer look at the demon's mouth revealed that the tooth-like formation stretched fully from top to bottom, like bars on a jail cell. They were separated by just a few inches each; not enough clearance for a human, much less a boat.

The kittens however, weren't so lucky. One by one, they were sucked between the baleen into the demon's immense maw, and a sparkle of satisfaction was visible in his eye with each. Finally, the feeble paws of the last lost their grip on the baleen and it was sucked in to join its unlucky brethren. Their deaths inside would unfortunately be anything but swift.

The whale shot a plume of water out of his blowhole, signalling his satisfaction with the meal. They'd fulfilled the terms of the bargain. The whale disappeared back underwater, but the current didn't go away; if anything, it picked up.

"All done," Cynthia said. "I suppose you'll be able to handle this on your own now, if the need arises."

"I… what?" Larry said.

"You can see the harbor is already clearing." The strong current was sucking the sea snot down under, making it disappear and leaving clear water in its place.

The whale didn't exactly like devouring sea snot, but always did a thorough job after getting his kittens. Sunnydale's maritime ecosystem wasn't the healthiest, and this recurred often enough that none of the parties involved wanted the deal to break down.

"Maybe give him a full hour before calling back your friends, just to be safe," Cynthia advised.


"Ugh. You'd think that microeconomics would involve a more micro-sized amount of work," Mayor Summers had many virtues, but nobody would call her bookish.

"I have just the thing to keep you going," Cynthia said, bringing a steaming mug into her office. The mayor grabbed at it like it was from the fountain of youth.

"Sweet chocolate. It will give me the strength to go on and fulfill my destiny," she sipped at it greedily, heedless of any danger. Cynthia had slowly made it hotter over the past months, and still hadn't gotten complaints about temperatures that would burn a human or even a vampire. She hadn't informed Mayor Summers; it would likely disturb her unduly.

"Will it give you the strength to fulfill your destiny in the next ten minutes?" Harmony was fidgeting in the corner, clearly unhappy with the night's activities so far. She was the mayor's most devoted follower (except for herself of course), but her youth and vampiric nature didn't leave her with a lot of patience.

The mayor looked through her homework packet and made a distressed face. "Give it to me straight Ian. How bad is this gonna be?"

"We'll finish tonight," he said, looking a little nervous. "Almost definitely tonight."

She sighed dramatically in response, then demonstrated her special way with words. "And nobody except for everybody warned me college would be hard."

"You're doing well," Ian consoled her. "There's just a lot of material we've been putting off."

The mayor was clearly hamming her performance up to an extent, but Harmony was truly looking devastated. "Perhaps a cocoa for you too, with a spot of otter?" Cynthia offered, hoping to cheer her up. The water she'd boiled already should've cooled to a more reasonable temperature by the time she got back.

"That'd be great," Harmony said, but her smile was wan.

"Or maybe not great enough!" The mayor interrupted, looking suddenly mischievous. "There's no reason you have to be stuck with me tonight Harm. Go out! Have fun!"

"I don't want to leave you!" Harmony protested, then took in the small office space. "Much. It wouldn't be the same doing stuff alone anyway."

"Then take Cynthia!" The mayor said. "You two are like, total besties these days right? You should hang out."

"I couldn't abandon my post." Cynthia said.

"You're not abandoning it at all. This is a mission. Go have fun with Harmony so I don't have to feel guilty. You're doing me a big favor."

It wasn't conventional, but the mayor could hardly be called that. "If you insist…"

"I do!" She said. "Now you two go, go before it's too late. Leave Ian and I to our dark fate as we battle problem seven."

"I'm going to make up for lost time in the morning." Harmony leaned over the desk and applied a kiss that definitely rated as scandalous before reluctantly breaking it off and leaving the office. Cynthia gave a last nod to the mayor and followed.

"So, what are we gonna do?" Harmony asked as they walked down the hall.

"The night is in your hands," Cynthia said. After all, the whole point was to raise her spirits.

"I dunno," Harmony twisted her lip up. "Usually it's Buffy that decides, and she's great at making anything fun anyway. Are you sure you don't have any ideas?"

Vote: Over the course of her day Cynthia's heard of a couple events that might work. Which one does she put forward?

[] She's seen advertisements for a new band playing on campus, one calling itself 'Shy', strangely enough. Harmony does enjoy that sort of thing, and perhaps updating her music tastes to be more in line with the mayor's own would be productive.

[] The elder Mrs. Summers has experimented with night openings of her art gallery recently to avoid discriminating against Sunnydale's peaceful demon population. While a couple SDCW officers have been more than adequate to keep the peace in the past, 'just making sure' might be a good excuse to smooth over tensions between Harmony and the mayor's mother.

[] Harmony has enjoyed her new style, but it's been over a month now, and Cynthia thinks she might be in a mood for more experimenting. Makeovers do seem to be her favorite activity, even if it isn't a conventional night out. And Mayor Summers was certainly sure to … appreciate the effort, of course. (Stunt ideas, possibly in picture form)

[] "I just couldn't presume. Please, you should decide what we do tonight."