In any other town, this could have -- would have-- been a pleasant stroll through a moonlit park. There was a nice, cool breeze gently ruffling the leaves overhead, the smell of freshly cut grass still lingered from an earlier Park District mowing, the street lamps cast a nice, inviting glow over everything, and the bugs were singing... or whatever it was that bugs did on a cool, early-spring evening.

But, of course, this was Sunnydale.

Blech, Buffy Summers thought as she eyed a heavy, close-cut bush a few feet off the walkway. It was trimmed in a decorative circular design, and its leaf-laden branches swung sideways for the second time, an unnatural movement and sound so different from the way the wind would have shaken them that it might as well have been a gong in Buffy's ears. Bloodsucker? Or demon? Buffy pulled out a stake and stepped toward it cautiously, but she stopped a few feet away. Until she knew exactly what she was dealing with, it was safer and more efficient to let it come to her--

"Is it a vampire?"

Buffy jumped and gripped her stake as her mother strode up from the other direction and stopped in front of her. Smiling, Joyce Summers held a brown paper bag and a thermos.

Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

Joyce hefted the lunch bag invitingly. "I brought you a snack. I thought it was about time I came out to watch, you know, the Slaying."

She wanted to watch? "Mom, you know the Slaying... it's kind of an alone thing." Her gaze cut past her mother and focused once more on the bush, the branches that were jerking around again. She slipped past Joyce and circled it, then realized her mom was trailing after her.

"But it's such a big part of your life," Joyce pointed out. "And I'd like to understand it. It's something we could share."

Buffy blinked. Slaying as a family activity -- why did she think this was on a fast track to failure? "It's really pretty dull. Bam, boom, stick, poof. Not much to--"

The bloodsucker that leaped at her from behind the bush was suit-and-tie clad, nice and toothy. Buffy shoved her mother backward as she stepped up to meet the thing's attack. Blocking the vamp's downward punch, she spun and landed a solid roundhouse kick.

"Good, honey! Kill it!" Joyce shouted encouragingly.

The vampire stumbled backward, and Buffy jumped at it. Not quick enough -- the thing got one of its feet up and caught her smack in the stomach. She went over its head like a rotating bicycle wheel and came down on her back behind it.

Her mother's excited voice propelled her back to her feet. "Buffy -- he's over here!"

She wanted to give her mother a "look"-- something along the order of "Bad Mom!" would've been doable -- but there really wasn't time. She scrambled back to a fighting stance, but--

"Oh, my God -- it's Mr. Sanderson from the bank!"

-- her mother's incredulous words wiggled into her head and cut her concentration, making her efforts clumsy and uncoordinated. It required a double effort on her part, plus she had to take a few hard knocks, but she finally got the bloodsucker down with a leg sweep. In position at last, she raised her stake --

"Are you sure you have to kill him?" Joyce asked. "He opened my IRA."

Thrown off track, Buffy glanced at her mother in exasperation. "He's not Mr. Sanderson anymore, Mom. He's--"

The thing she'd been holding down bucked and was up in an instant.

"-- getting away," Joyce finished for her.

This time, Buffy did get a "look" off to Joyce, a hard one. "Stay," she commanded harshly, then sprinted after the newly changed bank officer. Sanderson was fresh and awkward, completely inexperienced, and already she was closing on him -- she had no doubt that in less than two minutes he'd be dust. Still, her mother was back there, alone and unprotected, so she had to get this over with as quickly as possible.

There was no telling what kind of mischief an unsupervised mom could get involved in around here.

Joyce watched her daughter chase after the vampire, feeling another pang of regret for the late Mr. Sanderson, intensified when she realized she'd never even known his first name. After a moment she glanced around and decided she didn't like this small clearing in the park-- it was surrounded by too many hedges and trees, too quiet and isolated. Better, she thought as she shrugged a little against the chill, to move on ahead and into the playground area. It was more open and far less likely to offer hiding places to unsavory creatures of the night, plus just being surrounded by the children's play equipment made her feel better.

As if to reaffirm that, Joyce spied a toy truck a few feet in front of her. Small and battered, it was on its side in one of a dozen mini-puddles left by yesterday's rain, just inside the swing-set area. Somewhere behind her, she heard her daughter's yell, recognized it instantly as victorious-- good for Buffy, she'd vanquished that nasty vampire. Satisfied, Joyce put the lunch bag and thermos on a bench and went over to the tiny truck, lifting the neglected toy from the water with a small smile as she straightened again. Perhaps someone would come back tomor--

She froze.

Forgotten, the toy truck slipped from her fingers and fell to the dirt as her shocked gaze focused on what was on the merry-go-round twenty feet away, then went to the figure on the gritty ground next to it.

"Oh... God," she whimpered. Against her will, against all reason, her feet carried her closer to the dreadful thing in front of her.

One child, a boy, lay on his side on the merry-go-round, his face serene and nearly as pale as his golden blond hair. The other was a girl, smaller and sprawled on the ground a few feet away, shining blond curls framing the cold, forever-silenced features of her face above a cute striped shirt.

The night surrounded Joyce suddenly, bringing not comfort but a deep, soul-chilling sadness at the sight of these two tiny dead children, each with a hand outflung as if in supplication, palm up, and painted with a dark and enigmatic symbol...