Orange Construction Barrels
*** Sequel to ‘Minor Intersections,’ ‘That Road Again,’ 'Four Way Stop' and 'Lover's Lane.' I really hadn’t planned on revisiting this universe in the near future but CSI keeps having episodes that I can’t ignore. ***
*** Spoilers for CSI Season Six episode Werewolves and for Chosen of Buffy and Four Way Stop. ***
*** Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth ***
*** Disclaimer: I'm not cool enough to think up Oz or CSI, so I borrow other people's universes. I gain no money. No copyright infringement intended. ***
*** Warnings: Drinking and maybe a little language. ***
*** Premise of Series: David, the assistant coroner of the LV CSI, started his internship in Sunnydale. He ended up running from the nightlife, but the nightlife followed him out. ***
David was well on his way to being drunk by the time his Council contact arrived. Since it was nine in the morning, the bartender had asked if it was a woman.
David shook his head. “Work, night shift city coroner.”
The bartender had shut up after that.
The pub was small and had good, cheap food and they didn’t card unless you ordered an alcoholic drink. That was necessary since most of David’s contacts were obviously underage females.
This time it wasn’t though.
The young man that walked up to David was older than the normal contact and he had orange hair with matching nail polish.
“Hey, you David?”
David held out his hand. “Yes and you are . . .”
“Oz.” He gave David a firm handshake and eyed the line of empty glasses. “I’m late?”
David shook his head. “Bad night at work.”
Oz looked at David silently. With his body language, he neither invited David to vent nor made it obvious that he didn’t want to hear the details.
David decided that that was good enough. “Have you ever met a werewolf?”
Oz’s eyes went slightly wide.
David offered a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I know, left-field. Have you?”
“They’re normal, aren’t they? Or as normal as you or me? But they have a couple really bad nights a month.”
Oz nodded soberly. “Some can even control those nights.”
David snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me. They’re probably intelligent, hold down jobs and contribute to society.”
David shrugged. “Well, every species has its bad apples.”
“Was a were your patient?”
“No. A man with hypertrichosis. He was really hairy all over his body but he was what most people thought . . . think a werewolf would look like.”
“What happened?” Oz asked.
David downed the rest of his drink. Was his job turning him into an alcoholic? “Three of the . . . guys in my lab, I thought that they were scientists. But they can into the morgue to gawk at the body, to ask rude questions . . . to take a picture. I chased them out. He was still a human being and as educated men, they were acting like high school jocks.”
Oz waited for David to conclude what really bothered him.
“If they acted like that for a person with a medical disorder, how would they react to a real werewolf or demon? If they can’t just accept differences that have been public for centuries, how will they ever accept the supernatural? And these are supposed to be the educated ones not the common masses, not the backwoods hicks. But the guy who killed him was the victim’s best friend. He killed him because ‘the freak’ wasn’t good enough to marry his sister. Is he an example of the common man? Right now I hope and pray that the common masses would react better.”
Oz had no real advice to offer. “Some do, some don’t.”
“I didn’t think this . . . world would be a secret my entire lifetime, but it will, won’t it?”
“I’ll tell Buffy to make your meetings more often.”
David laughed; it sounded forced to his own ears. “And I’m just on the fringe. How do you in the middle deal with it?”
“One night at a time.”
David nodded. The was nothing left to say. “Thanks, for listening.”
Oz just shrugged.
David finally got down to business. “No new fledglings have come through the morgue in the last month and deaths surrounding the vampire clubs are down. As far as I know, even the missing persons in the area has been reduced.”
“Vamps getting sneakier.”
David agreed. “So when will a Slayer move into town on a permanent basis?”
“When Buffy feels that there’s one or a group that can go up against the master vamp and not end up dead.”
David shivered. He didn’t like the idea that there was a master vampire in his town. Especially one who knew who he was and that he reported to the Slayer. David realized that in a very perverse way, he was safer than the average joe. He could pass by a vampire without knowing it and not end up as a meal. The city’s master vampire was not willing to break the truce he had with The Slayer by letting her spy die. David pushed the half-empty drink in his hands away from him. He was done drinking for the day. “You need somewhere to crash?” he offered.
“Nah, but thanks.” Oz stood to walk away.
David grabbed his arm. “Thanks for listening and if it matters, I’d like to have you pick up my report again.”
Oz smiled slightly. “Goodbye, David.”