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Banner by Edgehead


Buffy sat in the town library looking through old newspapers for anything about the house.

The librarian named Jenny, an attractive, dark-haired woman in her 50's, approached her table with a few newspapers.

"Here," she said putting the stack down next to Buffy, "I was finally able to find the other ones you wanted. The ones right after the murders."

Buffy looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No problem." The librarian looked like she wanted to say something else then though better of it.

"Is...there something else?" Buffy asked.

"I was surprised when I heard that someone finally bought the old Lawson place. How‘s that...working out for you?"

“It’s been...interesting,” Buffy said carefully.

Jenny sat down across from Buffy and leaned in to speak to her quietly.

“Have there been any strange things in the house? I don’t like to spread gossip, but I heard that it’s haunted.”

“There’ve been some strange things, yes,” Buffy replied. “I wanted to find out about what happened there.”

“Oh, there have been lots of tragic things in that house. In the 50s there was a groundskeeper and handyman named Rufus Carter. He lured young boys into the basement and...well...you don’t want to know more about that. It was a huge scandal at the time. An angry mob put an end to his life.”

Buffy shuddered. That had to be the thing that assaulted Xander in the basement.

“Here,” Jenny said, pulling out the July 5th, 1978 edition of the town newspaper, and sliding it over to Buffy on the tabletop, “this will tell you about what happened as far as the ’Independence Day’ murders are concerned. They called it that despite the fact that it happened after midnight on the 5th... I guess it just had more of a ring to it.”

Buffy looked at the newspaper. The headline read:

"GRISLY MURDERS SHOCK TOWN"

Buffy looked back at her. "Did you live here when it happened?"

Jenny nodded. "It was terrible. Mrs. Lawson was such a lovely woman, so kind and pretty. She married old man Lawson and inherited everything from him when he passed away. Darla was her name, isn't that pretty? She and three other people were all killed in the house that night."

"They never caught who did it?" Buffy asked.

"No. They never formally charged anyone, believe it or not," Jenny whispered conspiratorially, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. "Very strange, a very rich and influential person was murdered and there wasn't a thorough investigation. Not that I make a habit of spreading rumors or gossip..."

"That is strange," Buffy said, frowning.

Poor Spike and the others. They hadn't even had the satisfaction of having their killer tried in court.

“There had to be some kind of massive cover-up,” Jenny whispered.

“What can you tell me about Angel O’Connor?” Buffy asked.

“Oh, yes. I remember him... He was Darla’s gentleman friend. Tall, dark and handsome. He moved away a few months after the incident. He lives in L.A. now as far as I know, running his father’s hotel business. Very rich and powerful...”

“Was he investigated?” Buffy wanted to know. “He seems to be the most likely one to have committed the crime.”

“I...think he was...briefly. But he was never a prime suspect, at least as far as the police were concerned... I wouldn’t go around asking people about this if I were you. The O’Connors still have a lot of pull here,” Jenny warned.

“You think he did it too, don’t you? Why wasn’t he arrested?”

“It’s not right, but money makes the world go ‘round, Buffy. We’ve seen it over and over again the last few decades. If you have enough power, fame or money you can literally get away with murder,” Jenny explained sadly. “He did it alright...everyone knows that, whether they say it or not.”

Jenny’s attention went to the counter, where another woman was waiting with a stack of books.

“I have to get back to work.” She stood up. “I’ll check back with you in a bit.”

“Thanks for your help,” Buffy said with a weak smile.

She felt sick. Everyone who was around back then thought Angel was guilty, but nothing had ever been done about it.

Buffy read the article:


Four people were found dead at Lawson Manor, early on the morning of July 5th. The cook, Lucy Juarez, found the bodies.

The bodies were identified as: The widow of Harold Lawson, Mrs. Darla Lawson, 31; her cousin William Giles, 19; the head of the household staff, Ethan Rayne, 52; and his nephew Percy Rayne, 14.

A police insider informed us that the bodies had been stabbed repeatedly and viciously. These are the worst acts of violence the town has seen since its founding, according to one source.

Police Chief John Kramer assures the public that no stone will be left unturned in the investigation and that he is supremely confident that the killer or killers will be caught soon.

Police are combing the residence and questioning the staff for evidence. Those who attended Mrs. Lawson’s 4th of July party are also being questioned.

There are no immediate suspects in the case.

We will report more on these heinous crimes as the information comes in.


Buffy put down the paper, her hands trembling.

Angel did it. But his family’s influence and money had made him exempt from punishment. Who knew how many other people he’d killed in the last 25 years. And why did he kill Ethan and Percy too? What could they possibly have done, in his eyes, to deserve death?





Buffy went back to the mansion to continue work. She informed Willow and Xander about what she’d found out at the library. They were shaken, but mostly pissed that the real estate agent didn’t see fit to tell them about what had happened there.

They could see how tired Buffy was and insisted that she go and lie down for awhile. Buffy had put up a weak protest but decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. The last several days had really taken it out of her.

She curled up on her bed and dropped off to sleep almost immediately. Another dream played out...


Buffy was in the living room. She took in her new surroundings and wondered what was going to happen this time.

June 28, 1978

Spike and Darla sat on the plush rose-colored couch eating popcorn and watching TV. Spike had his feet up on the coffee table (Darla gave up telling him not to), Darla was leaning back against him.

"I never watched so much TV before you got here, cousin dear." Darla smirked. "You're turning me into a junkie."

Spike chuckled, "Nobody said you had to watch, I'm not holding a gun to your head."

The show 'Starsky & Hutch' began.

"This show is bloody brilliant, it‘s my favorite," Spike said chewing on a piece of popcorn. "I have to get one of those cars..." Spike started bouncing and making 'wokitcha-wokitcha' sounds to go along with the funky theme song.

Darla giggled. "I like this show, too. You enjoy the violence and the car, while I can enjoy the gripping stories and, of course, the hot guys. Mmmm! That Starsky has the cutest butt! Just look at it! Makes you want to grab a handful."

"Ewww!" Spike gave her a mock-disgusted look. "Now you're gonna have me thinking about his ass."

"How about when we watched 'Charlie's Angels'? I had to endure an hour of gratuitous bikini wearing and jiggling breasts. I think I'm entitled to a little juicy man-butt watching."

Spike screwed up his face. Darla tickled his sides, making them both laugh.

"Cut it out! I'm trying to watch the bloody show!" Spike wriggled. "You're gonna make me spill the popcorn!"

"Well, isn't this…cozy," Angel said from the archway.

The giggling cousins stopped their horseplay and sat up.

"Angel," Darla smiled tentatively, "what are you doing here? I didn't think you were coming over tonight."

"Hmm...I decided to come see my favorite girl anyway. Sorry to interrupt your evening," Angel said, his eyes glittering.

"Oh, you're not interrupting," Darla insisted. "Would you like to join us?"

Spike grimaced. He wanted to actually enjoy his evening, Angel's presence was like a black cloud. There was no way Spike could relax with him around.

"I'm not in the mood to watch television. Come on, baby, let's take a walk." Angel held his hand out to Darla.

She looked at Spike's disappointed face then back to Angel. Darla really wanted to stay and watch the show but Angel rarely took no for an answer. She knew that if she said no, Angel might get angry. Then Spike would get angry. Then they might fight. So, in the interest of keeping peace, Darla took Angel's hand and stood up. Truthfully, she was quickly tiring of her boyfriend and his demanding nature.

"We'll watch together next week. Okay, Spike?" she asked him.

Spike shrugged. "'Kay."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her not to let that wanker tell her what to do...but he bit his tongue.

"We're just going to take a stroll," Darla said.

Angel grinned. "See you later, Spike."

Darla and Angel walked out. Spike looked after them for a moment and shook his head. Darla could have her pick of men. Why was she settling for that obnoxious, overbearing, Keith Partridge wannabe? He could counsel his cousin, but her love life wasn't really his business. Spike focused his attention back on the TV.

Buffy looked at him sadly. The date of the murders was approaching fast. Her next dream could be the one...


Another dream started almost seamlessly, disorienting her with the sudden change in surroundings...


Buffy spun around when she found herself out on the rear lawn.

July 4, 1978

It was evening. There were red, white and blue streamers, colored lights and lanterns decorated the lawn. At least 50 people were sitting at tables chatting amongst themselves. Everyone was in good spirits.

Spike and Percy came into view. They were wearing shorts and soccer shirts and Percy carried the ball. They were laughing and a bit sweaty. They had been playing a game of night soccer on the west lawn with the help of floodlights.

"I kicked your ass!" Spike pushed at him good-naturedly.

"Bollocks!" Percy said, pushing back. He'd obviously picked up a few words from hanging around Spike. "It was like you were standing still, I --"

"Hi, guys," Darla said walking up to them. "Have a good game?" She smiled sweetly.

Percy immediately turned red and looked away shyly. "Yes, Miss Darla," he said in small voice.

Spike smirked. "Percy, could you get us something to drink. I'm parched," he asked, giving the love-struck boy an escape.

"Sure!" Percy said, racing away.

Darla chuckled, "He's adorable. Ethan said Percy doesn't have an easy time making friends."

"He's a good kid," Spike said, drying himself off with the towel around his neck. "He's fun to hang out with, once you bring him out of his shell."

"You were quite the little turtle yourself, weren't you?" Darla nudged him with a grin.

"Yeah." Spike smiled.

Ethan approached them.

"They're going to start the fireworks in a few minutes, Miss."

"Good. Thanks, Ethan," Darla said. "Everyone was getting a little restless."

Ethan turned to Spike. "Spike, I wanted to thank you again for keeping Percy company."

"Oh...that's not necessary. He's a good kid, you know?" Spike said. “Everyone doesn’t have to keep thanking me for hanging out with him. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like him.”

"Well, he thinks the world of you. Every other word out of his mouth is 'Spike thinks this' and 'Spike does that'." Ethan grinned. "He's a bit too fond of your hair though. Please try to disabuse him of the notion that he'd 'look cool' with his hair styled like yours."

Spike and Darla laughed.

"I think he's pretty cool, too. And I'll do my best talkin' him out of the hair style."

"Please do," Ethan chuckled. "I have to see to some of the guests, if there's nothing you need?"

"No, we're fine, thanks Ethan." Darla put her hand on his arm and squeezed lightly.

With a nod, Ethan went towards where the guests were seated.

Spike and Darla began to stroll further down the lawn together. Buffy followed after them.

"Angel didn't come?" Spike asked. He was happy that the lumbering lummox wasn't here, but he had to make an effort for Darla's sake.

"No," Darla said with disappointment, then after a beat, "I'm going to end it with him."

"You are?" Spike tried to hide his glee. "I...thought you liked him?"

"I did -- I still do...sometimes. He's just getting...I don't know...more possessive, more controlling and jealous. He actually shook me by the shoulders the other night..."

Spike stopped, his face screwing up in anger. "What?! You didn't tell me that! That bastard! I'll fucking --"

"Spike, please! Don't do anything! That's why I didn't tell you. I was afraid you'd do something rash."

"Bloody right, I'll do something rash! I'll kick that prick's ass! Who does he think he fucking is, putting his sodding hands on you?!" Spike's hands formed tight fists, his nails dug into his palms.

"No, Spike! I just want it to be over. Don't make things worse. Please!"

Spike could see she'd be pissed if he did what he wanted to -- what the situation called for. But...he didn't want to upset her. Once again, he swallowed his feelings and made an effort to calm down.

"Okay...okay, I'll...I won't do anything," Spike said slowly. Then he looked at her, his eyes deadly serious, "But if he touches you again...I'll kill him."

Darla touched his face gently. "He won't touch me again. But...it's good to know I have you. Someone who wants to protect me with no ulterior motives." She smiled. "I love you."

Spike melted. He couldn't be pissed when she looked at him so sweetly.

"Love you too, cuz."

"Even though you're all sweaty, I just have to give you a big hug," Darla laughed then put her arms around him. "I'm so grateful that you're here, Spike."

Spike put his arms around her and hugged her tightly, closing his eyes. The thought of Angel putting his ham-hands on Darla made him shake with rage. She was a woman and a petite woman, at that. How dare Angel touch her in anger.

"You want me to be there when you give him his walkin' papers?" Spike asked.

"No. I'd like to do it privately," Darla said worriedly. "But...you can be nearby...if that would make you feel better."

"It would."

The sound of the fireworks going off interrupted them. Still hugging loosely, they turned their faces up to the sky and watched the colorful explosions with childlike expressions of wonder. The partygoers 'Oooh'ed and 'Aaah'ed' at the display.

Buffy stood next to the cousins and watched too, amazed again at how real these dreams were. She could even smell the acrid odor of the gunpowder in the air.

"You Yanks know how to throw a party, I'll give you that," Spike said, holding Darla tighter for a moment.

Unseen by the others, Angel watched them from a distance. He gnashed his teeth, his eyes were beady and narrowed to slits. Something snapped in his mind at seeing Darla and Spike embracing. He had known that Spike was up to no good, he knew it...

"I'll put an end to that... I'll make them wish they hadn't fucked with me. I'll teach them a very valuable lesson."

Angel turned and walked back to the house. Planning.




Buffy woke up to the sound of knocking on her door.

“Buffy?” Willow called. “Xander brought back some hamburgers for dinner. Are you getting up?”

Buffy rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be down...”

She sat up, thinking about what she’d seen in the dreams. If only she could warn them about what was coming. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even spare herself the ordeal of watching it happen. The next dream was going to be the big one.

And there was nothing she could do to prevent it.





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