"He, that can smile at death as we know him; who can flourish in the midst of diseases that kill off whole peoples. Oh! If such a one was to come from God, and not the Devil, what a force for good might he not be in this old world of ours!" – Abraham Van Helsing. (Bram Stoker’s Dracula.)



What do you call a nightmare that you can’t wake up from? A nightmare that consumes you, that drags you down and chokes you with its horror?

Alec Giles didn’t have the answer to these questions as he was confronted with this living nightmare before him, skewered on a dark metal blade that protruded from his arm. All he could think of, all he could really see were her eyes. Those gentle sea-foam green eyes that were now wide in shock and pain.

…And the blood. So much blood.

A sound then filled the room, screaming, and it was with surprise that Alec realized it was he who was screaming.

“Alec...?” Dawn’s words came weakly on red-tinged bubbles through her lips as she slumped forward, skewered like a piece of meat.

With his free hand, Alec cradled her cheek, tried to hold her upright, tried to do anything that would make this nightmare stop. He could feel wet tears of pain trickling down her face.

“Dawn, look at me, you’re going to be okay,” Alec whispered hoarsely. He lifted his head to cry out.

“We need help in here! Anyone! Please, help me!”

Dawn smiled feebly even as Alec felt her body going cold.

“Shhh, it’s okay…” she whispered. “It’s okay, Alec.”

“No, you’ll be fine. Willow or someone else will come and patch you up and you’ll be fine.”

Blinking back his own tears, Alec looked past Dawn’s shoulder frantically for a source of hope in the form of someone coming to his aid; there was none to be found.

“I need to tell you something,” Dawn whispered, beckoning Alec to lean closer to her face. “Please, it hurts so badly, Alec.”

Alec just nodded numbly as he leaned forward and Dawn reached up a trembling left hand.

It was in that moment that a small detail, almost imperceptible in its innocuousness, registered to Alec.

Dawn was right-handed.

Like a snake striking, the thing that was not Dawn lunged at his head. Its head split to become a fanged maw and it sank its teeth into Alec’s skull. He screamed even as the creature forced hands that were now tentacles down his throat, tearing at his esophagus and threatening to pull his tongue out at the seam. As the pain intensified, Alec beat at the creature with his free hand and vainly tried to kick at it. Every attempt to pull his head free of the creature’s mouth sent fresh waves of agony through his body, its teeth were hooked like a shark’s to prevent him from pulling out.

His vision went black and Alec felt his body start to go numb as the creature bit down even harder.

And so I die, he thought to himself.

There was a sudden agonizing jolt of pain, a blinding flash of light, and then he was free.

“Get away from him, you bitch!”

He heard a voice cry out from the darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he managed a wry smile.

Buffy.

He felt strong, cold hands grab him and drag him across the floor.

“Kick the bitch’s teeth in, love!”

Spike.

Soon, the unmistakable sounds of an enraged Slayer filled Alec’s ears. There were shrieking noises, a loud crack!, and then a sound that could only be described as large portions of meat and bone being forcibly removed from a larger mass and hurled against the wall at full force.

Then there was silence.

Alec felt hands touching his body.

“Alec?! Alec can you hear me?”

He felt a warm, strong… and slightly gooey hand grip his. He smiled despite himself and squeezed his sister’s hand.

“My head hurts,” he tried to whisper, but the attack had dislocated his jaw, so he was forced to mumble his response.

He felt a flask being put to his lips and strong, smooth scotch being dribbled down his throat; it burned slightly, but it also helped numb the pain.

“Something for the pain, boyo,” Spike said quietly.

Alec wrestled with the visions of Dawn skewered at the end of his arm and drank greedily from the flask; the liquid sloshed over his lips and dribbled down his neck.

“Don’t worry, big brother, I’m here and I’m not going to leave you,” Buffy assured him.

Alec smiled again at that and even as he drifted off into unconsciousness, he could already hear the hurried approach of his friends and family.



There was darkness, thick and warm, and Alec floated effortlessly in it. For a time, there was peace and he was free of pain. Then the visions came…

The golobulan attack and its hellish aftermath, the attack of the Khulghaani and the faces of the gypsies who had been slaughtered, the foray into the Deadlands and Willow’s death and Buffy’s defilement at the hands of the Lazaraens, the wounds suffered from Willow’s spell. One by one, each event stacked upon him like chains and they twisted inside his mind, wrapping tighter around his heart and squeezing at his sanity until he couldn’t take the pain anymore and he screamed out even as he saw Dawn’s face locked in shock and her body skewered by his blades.

Alec regained consciousness with a jerk. His head ached and the skin on his face felt sticky from blood, with one eye bandaged over.

“Hey…” a familiar voice called out and Willow’s face came into view. “You’re awake.”

“Ow,” Alec replied gloomily, “I hurt.”

“That shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” his father’s voice called out from Alec’s peripheral vision before settling down in sight next to Willow. “You’ve suffered multiple skull fractures, a serious concussion, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. If your regenerative powers had not been what they are, I’m not confident you would have ever woken up.”

“Comforting,” Alec said grimly.

Spike dropped beside the bed.

“You look like Hell, mate,” he informed his friend.

“My head is killing me. Give me that flask.”

Spike chuckled ruefully and handed over the requested object. His amusement turned to concern, though, as Alec upended the flask and drained it nosily and desperately. He sent a look to Buffy, who only shrugged.

Finished, Alec handed the flask back to Spike. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Fortunately, we’re Englishmen: balls of British steel and skulls to match, lucky for you.”

Alec attempted to sit up and his bladed limb came up from the bed, nearly slicing a path across Spike’s face.

“Careful there!” the vampire cried out.

Alec sent his friend an apologetic look as he examined the blades and hooks on his arm. It was still caked in blood.

“What was it, Dad?” Alec asked quietly.

“A Synthak demon – shape-shifters and assassins, particularly nasty ones at that,” Giles said quietly.

Alec looked up with his good eye. “Why do I know that name?”

“Because Synthak demons are found only amongst one group – The Order of Taraka.”

“Oh… fantastic,” Buffy said forlornly. “I remember those guys, they suck.”

“If by ‘suck’ you mean ‘are ludicrously dangerous’, then, yeah, I’m with you on that,” Spike put in. He turned to face Alec. “Looks like someone’s put a hit out on you, mate.”

“Comforting. Any idea how I can get it lifted?”

“I found that killing all the assassins they sent after me worked pretty well,” Buffy said simply. “But I should ask Angel, he knows more about dealing with them than I do.”

“Thanks, sis, I appreciate it.” He gestured with his transformed arm. “What can you tell me about this, Dad?”

“Well, they’re magical in origin,” Giles commented as he peered at the gauntlet growing out of his son’s arm. Blades of every size and shape sprang in a haphazard, almost random fashion. Interlaced between the blades were purple streaks of light that shot back and forth along the blades. “This black metal is like none I’ve ever seen.”

He gingerly moved to trace one of the purple pathways. Alec reached over and grabbed him with his other hand.

“Bad idea, Dad,” he warned.

Getting to his feet, he walked over to one of the walls and, with a grunt, swung his bladed appendage into it. There was a crash as a hole no smaller than twice the width of his arm was made. Bits of concrete tumbled to the ground in fist-sized chunks. Alec looked down at his arm: the black metal blades weren’t even damaged, they just continued to glint in the light menacingly, crackles of purple energy coursing up and down it.

Giles swallowed as Xander’s eyes bulged.

“Whoa,” the carpenter whispered, surveying the damage.

“And how,” Willow replied, nodding.

Alec sighed and dropped back into the chair as Giles adjusted his glasses.

“Now, son, you said these blades manifested once before?” he asked cautiously.

Alec nodded. “During the Khulghaani attack,” he threw Willow a look, “when one of the vampires made it past our defenses in the altar room. I administered a pretty savage beating to it. These things just… popped out during the attack.”

“Were they exactly like this?” Giles asked.

Alec shook his head, gesturing with his free hand to the blades.

“No, they only started from here.” He pointed to a spot on the middle of his arm. “Now they’re all the way up to the elbow.” He traced the path of the blades with a finger. Sure enough, the last of the weapons terminated just below his elbow.

Giles frowned and asked, “Does it hurt?”

“No, not really. Feels like pins and needles, and my arm doesn’t feel any heavier. I can’t use my hand of course.”

He gestured to the four sharp knives, each almost a foot in length, placed above, below and on each side at the end of his arm, surrounded by a ring of grasping, mechanized barbed hooks that twisted and clicked menacingly.

Giles nodded. “I see,” he frowned. “How did you feel, Alec, the first time?”

“Scared,” Alec replied instantly. “Terrified, actually, I thought that Dawn and Willow were going to die.”

“And just now, when the blades reappeared?” Giles asked.

“I was having a nightmare about the Deadlands,” Alec replied.

The Watcher nodded once more.

“Well, it seems to react to stress, like a natural defense system.”

Faith pointed at the young man’s arm. “THAT is not a natural defense system, that is a sixteen-piece culinary set of kick-ass dimensions.” She grinned wryly. “He’s gone full-tilt Hellspawn.” She chuckled.

Giles turned to her, puzzled.

“ ‘Hellspawn’ ?” he asked.

Faith nodded.

“Yeah, see, there’s this comic book called Spawn and in it this guy has, like, hooks and chains that come out of his body, and a big red cape that can do, like, anything. And when he’s freaking out, all these wicked weapons come popping out of his skin.” She gestured to the blades coming out of Alec’s arm. “D, here, did a trick at City Hall – he fell out of a window and the boy’s threads became, like, a huge parachute. It reminded me of the comic.”

Xander turned to her.

“Really? ‘Cause, with all those purple little pathway thingies, I was thinking ‘Tron’,” he replied.

Giles shook his head.

“Pop culture aside, we need to figure out what exactly these are,” he gestured to the blades.

Alec frowned.

“Wait a minute,” he chimed in. “During the fight with the Khulghaani, after I killed the vampire, these things went away.” He gestured to the blades. “I’ve been awake for a while now and they’re still here.”

The younger Giles looked up at his father, who was regarding him thoughtfully.

“Alec, how do you feel, right now?” he asked carefully.

“Freaked,” he replied evenly after a moment of consideration.

Giles nodded.

“That would be it, then. I believe these blades are reacting to your fear. They believe that you are in danger and thus have not yet… uh…” he struggled for the most polite term and finished carefully, “…retracted.”

“Yeah, but Alec and Buffy have been doing the ‘seek and destroy’ bit for months and Alec’s never come back looking like The Shredder,” Xander chimed in.

Giles frowned and turned back to his son.

“Alec, has there ever been a time where you felt that your life was ever seriously in jeopardy?” he asked.

The part-demon shrugged as the glowing lines dimmed slightly.

“Sure. All the time. Vampire hunting isn’t exactly safe.”

Giles snapped his fingers.

“There it is! Alec, you’ve been fighting vampires with Buffy for months, but never once did you actually fear for your life anymore than the natural concern about fighting vampires.” He smiled slightly. “I suppose once you understand and accept the risks and are constantly exposed to them, they cease to become frightening. It becomes familiar.”

Alec nodded. “That would make sense,” he replied thoughtfully, bringing his bladed arm up to his chin automatically in a gesture of thought.

“Alec!” Willow yelled out in warning.

Alec focused and jerked back the bladed arm, which had been only an inch or so from his face, before sighing and setting it down, placing his other hand under his chin instead.

“Hey, D, what about when the blob came ripping through Buffy’s kitchen?” Faith asked. “Did you go all ‘Edward Scissorhands’ then?”

Alec shook his head.

“No, not at all.” He frowned, and then his eyes grew wide. “But my jacket did react, it burst into a shield when the thing spat at me.” He sent his father a sheepish look. “Or at least it tried to,” he amended.

Giles nodded.

“It would appear your powers are becoming more of a reflex than actual conscious thought as time goes on.” He frowned. “Has anything extraordinary happened to you in the last few hours that could explain this latest manifestation?” he questioned, gesturing to the blades.

“The Everstone!” Willow cried out. “When Alec lashed at the fire with his shadow whip, there was this weird purple light that shot out of the fire and zapped him.” She smiled slightly. “His hair was sticking up all the way back.”

Alec would have smirked if he weren’t still so completely wigged.

“What does this mean, Dad?” he asked worriedly.

Giles sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know, son, I suppose I’ll have to-”

“Hey, what’s going on?” a sleepy voice called out.

They turned to see Dawn entering the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

She’s alive and whole. Thank God, Alec thought to himself.

Dawn noted Alec’s condition with a start of surprise before her face broke into a huge grin.

“Whoa! Cool! He’s doing it again!” She grinned wryly at him. “Are you going to go turn someone into chop suey?” she asked gleefully.

Alec couldn’t help but grin as he lifted the metallic arm up.

“Actually, I was just getting ready to make coleslaw,” he cracked, gesturing to the multitude of wicked looking blades jutting out from his arm.

There was a chuckle from the group as Alec and Dawn shared a grin… without any warning, the purple-lit pathways dimmed throughout the gauntlet and fell dark, there was a loud snap! and Alec’s arm convulsed violently as the blades folded into themselves and dived back under his skin. In seconds, he’d regained his right arm. The only sign that the blades had just been there were some residual crackles of purple energy. Everyone gaped.

“And the fear was gone,” Xander commented. “Never doubt the power of a bad one-liner,” he quipped.

Alec just nodded numbly as he ran his left hand over his arm. The flesh was cool and completely undamaged, not a single cut or laceration. Even the hairs on his arm were intact.

Giles took his glasses off.

“It would seem that way,” he acceded. “Whatever is residing in Alec seems to have strong reactions to fear and rage, and when those emotions are no longer present, it becomes dormant again.” He gestured at Alec’s arm. “And, apparently, it’s also very gracious with its gifts. That much sharp metal protruding from his arm, the bone, muscle tissue and flesh should be mangled beyond repair, but it’s clearly not.” He sighed and shook his head in puzzlement. “I don’t understand it.”

He turned to Anya, who was sitting next to Xander.

“Do Keeper demons usually come equipped with… weaponry?” he asked.

Anya snorted. “You try getting one of those genocidal aristocrats to agree to an interview.”

She waved a hand dismissively.

“As far as I know, though, the only thing Keeper demons have control over are the powers of night and darkness, they’re not for sprouting overgrown can openers from random points in their bodies,” she finished dryly.

Xander snorted. “And the prize for ‘Most delicately phrased piece of information’ goes to…” he imitated a drum-roll, “…Anya!” Let’s give her a big hand, everyone.”

Anya glared at him and harrumphed. Giles shook himself.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I think we should continue to examine Alec until we can ascertain the cause for his… metamorphosis,” he finished dryly.

Alec got up and shook his right arm, which was still feeling like pins and needles.

“I’ll ask DeGanon if he has any magic that would help,” he replied quietly.

His stomach suddenly gurgled loudly. He blushed as everyone chuckled.

“And perhaps some food,” he added with a small smile.

Willow wrapped an arm around him. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked worriedly.

Alec smiled. “Yeah, but I think until I get this under control, it’s going to be separate beds for a while. I don’t want to accidentally turn you into shish kebab the next time I have a scary dream,” he tried to quip lightly, perhaps thinking of just how close something like that had come to happening.

Willow’s face fell.

“We need serious Obi-Wan action. To the Grigori Estate at once!” she decreed frantically.

Giles nodded as everyone else exchanged wry looks at the witch’s vehemence.

“I’ll call ahead to see if Marlena would be willing to bend the rules long enough for him to be examined by her. We need to drop off Buffy and Angel there as well, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“What shouldn’t be a problem?” Spike asked, yawning, on coming into the room.

Giles turned to him, removing his glasses to peer at the blond.

“Is Buffy…?” the former librarian started.

Spike nodded. “Resting like a babe in her mother’s arms, yeah.”

He took in the crowd. “What’s going on?”

Giles replaced his glasses on his face.

“We’re currently discussing Buffy and Angel being brought to the Grigori Estate to recover from their wounds,” Giles sighed, expecting an argument from the possessive vampire.

Spike just nodded his head.

“It’s a good idea. The whole lot of them went through hell and back, down there. They could both use a little ‘R and R,” he commented thoughtfully.

“Behold Spike, the rational vampire,” Xander commented. “I wonder what’s happened to the real one?”

Spike casually dug out a cigarette ignoring Xander as Giles continued.

“Yes, well, Spike, you do realize that if Buffy and Angel do agree to this, that you’ll probably have to leave them behind?” Giles asked cautiously.

The vampire just nodded as he finished lighting his cigarette, snapping the lighter shut.

“Well,” he started, taking a drag off the cigarette and exhaling thoughtfully. “It seems to me, that Buffy and Peaches, over there, have put in their time. If a few days of kicking back and drinking Sangria in the shade will get them back into fighting trim, more power to them I say,” he commented thoughtfully.

“Okay, seriously now – who are you and what have you done with Spike?” Xander asked.

Spike snorted and took another drag of the cigarette. Giles shook himself out of the surprise he felt at how rational Spike was being.

“Besides, if Angel does anything untoward, I’ll drive a spike through his forehead, crack open his skull and eat his brain like sorbet,” Spike finished calmly.

Xander sighed in relief. “Now there’s the homicidal maniac we’ve all come to love and adore,” he quipped.

“Speak for yourself,” Dawn muttered quietly.

Giles cleared his throat.

“Well, then it’s settled.” He turned to Xander. “Take the others to the surface and get the camper ready, we’ll meet you there.”

Xander nodded and hopped off the table he’d been sitting on.

“Aye, Aye, Captain Giles,” he saluted jauntily and gestured. “All that’s coming for the surface and all points past, let’s go!”

The others filed out of the room, Willow stopped to give Alec a kiss on the cheek.

“I think you make a cute can opener,” she commented demurely.

Alec chuckled and patted her on the rump. “Thanks, lover. Go on, I’ll see you all in a bit.”

She smiled cheekily up at him and left. Faith slapped him on the shoulder.

“Think you can teach me that blade trick, D? It would mean I could retire my wooden stake.” She lashed out with a backhand in the air. “Whap! Decapitated vampire!” she grinned and Alec rolled his eyes.

“Scram!” he yelled.

She laughed and headed off. Dawn reached out to place a hand his arm.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked, concern permeating her features.

Alec winked reassuringly. “As long as I don’t suffer from internal rusting, I’ll be good to go,” he commented wryly.

Dawn smiled and gave his hand a long squeeze before following the others out, leaving Alec, Spike and Giles in the room. Alec sighed and clapped his hands together.

“Okay, gents, let’s get cracking.” He gestured to the back room. “We’ve got an injured Slayer and a weakened vampire, both of whom are far too stubborn to accept any help.” He grinned at the two. “So, who gets to deal with Buffy?”

“He does!” Giles and Spike cried out in unison, gesturing to each other. Giles turned to Spike.

“You’re dating her!”

“Bollocks! You’re her bloody Watcher!” Spike retorted.

Alec sighed.

“Guys, I’m sure there’s a way we can work this out so you're both happy,” he said placating.

They slowly turned their heads to face him, Spike smiling wickedly.



“This really isn’t what I had in mind.”

Alec grumbled as he helped his injured sister carefully into the camper. The proud Slayer had put up surprisingly little resistance to the concept of being helped. ‘Lack of sleep’ had been her only explanation.

Spike snorted. “Yeah, well, your old man is helping the great poof into the camper and I need to check the sunproofing. That leaves you to deal with ‘Little Miss Sunshine’.”

Buffy looked up from the cot that she was resting in.

“Come on, guys, I’m not that bad.” She frowned at them then pouted. “Am I?” she asked meekly.

“Heh!”

Spike and Alec scoffed in unison as they finished getting her settled in. Xander closed the door behind them.

“Okay, kids, strap in and relax, ‘cause we are outta here!” he yelled back.

Amidst much celebratory cheers, the camper slowly pulled out of the park and lumbered onto the street. Spirits were high as radios were turned up loud, windows were rolled down and a general feeling of victory permeated the group as the camper sped down the highway.



Giles turned to his son. “What did DeGanon say about our departure?” he asked.

Alec shrugged.

“He said ‘Have a nice trip’ and ‘Thanks for saving my life’,” he replied smirking. “He also gave us these.”

He dug into his pockets, pulling out several twists of cloth. Giles frowned at them.

“What are they?” he asked, taking one of the colorful pieces of cloth in his hands.

“They’re called prikasa, they’re supposed to represent bad luck. We’re supposed to keep them until we lose them, sell them or someone offers to take them off our hands,” Xander spoke up.

He turned to regard them, keeping one eye on the road.

“That way, the kumpania manages to get rid of their bad luck,” he reached forward and took one of the twists of cloth, “and we get gypsy friendship bracelets,” he finished, tying one around his wrist with his teeth, keeping one hand on the wheel.

Alec looked at him wryly. “Terrific, cursed gypsy friendship bracelets.” He sighed dryly.

Tossing the others on the dashboard, he turned and headed back, gently easing past Anya, who was heading in the opposite direction to be with Xander up front. Spike was sitting with Buffy, talking. Faith was tending to Angel, who looked better, but still resembled ‘dead man walking’. Alec smirked at his pun and sat next to Willow, who was chatting with Dawn.

“Hey, you.” Willow smiled and kissed his cheek.

He smiled back and turned to the pair. “What are you girls up to?” he asked wryly.

“We’re plotting your untimely demise,” Dawn told him matter-of-factly.

Alec nodded. “Oh, okay then.”

He nodded his head sagely. Willow and Dawn burst into giggles.

“We’re playing ‘Truth or Dare’,” Willow confided to him.

“PG-13 version,” she added hastily, when Alec lowered his face to eye her wryly through his bangs.

Alec chuckled and nodded. “Okay, so what’s the topic?” he asked, bringing his hands together.

“We’re trying to figure out who’s the cutest guy on the trip,” Willow told him.

“Yeah, and you’re completely objective,” Alec put in sardonically.

Willow and Dawn both grinned, looking for all the world like two conspiring girlfriends ganging up on the guy.

“Well, trying to be,” Willow told him.

Alec smirked. “So, who’s in the running?” he asked.

Dawn raised a Minnie Mouse notepad and consulted it.

“Well, first there’s Xander, who has the sense of humor angle working for him,” Dawn read off.

Alec nodded, agreeing. “Sense of humor’s important.”

“Then there’s Giles, who has the accent going on and the ‘older man’ appeal,” Willow told him.

Alec scoffed. “Terrific, I’ll be sure to mention this to my father.”

Dawn and Willow gave him grave looks.

“Nothing said in the circle can be uttered to the outside world,” Willow warned him direly.

“Punishable by death,” Dawn added threateningly.

Alec pretended to be intimidated.

“Oh, of… of course, forgive me, please. Your secrets die with me,” he assured them hastily.

Smiling, knowing that they were being humored, the pair turned back to the list.

“Spike has got that whole ‘bad boy, Billy Idol’ look going for him,” Willow continued. “Both Dawn and I were raised on eighties MTV so that’s a big point in his favor. Also, he’s got the accent working for him, too.” Willow turned to Dawn, who nodded.

“You two have way too much free time on your hands,” Alec observed dryly.

They ignored him and went back to the list.

“Angel’s got a serious ‘Brooding James Dean’ vibe working for him, great taste in clothes,” Dawn commented. “Also, he carries an air of ‘doomed hero guy’ about him. Definitely a babe magnet,” she grinned.

“Ah, you like martyrs, huh?” Alec cracked.

Dawn favored him with a wry scowl.

“A tortured soul is the sign of an artist,” she replied haughtily. “And a good artist…”

“…Is an attentive lover,” Willow finished expertly.

Alec put a hand over his face, trying hard not to burst into laughter.

“There’s Dracula, too,” Willow chimed in. “Though I only saw him once, but he’s so ‘creature of the night’ mysterious.” She turned to Dawn and they both blushed furiously. “And he’s got that voice…” She shivered dramatically. “Goosebumps,” Willow finished, grinning.

“I sense the vampiric powers of mind control coming into play here,” Alec replied sarcastically.

“There’s DeGanon,” Dawn pointed out. “He’s a gypsy and Willow tells me he looks a lot like Dracula. Plus, he has the Romanian accent.” She grinned cheekily. “That’s irresistible.”

Alec sighed and cast a look at Buffy.

“Does Buffy know you have a thing for older men?” he asked wryly.

Since he was watching the blonde Slayer, he completely missed the flash of vulnerability that washed over Dawn’s face.

“She’s… got an idea,” she whispered back.

Alec turned back to the pair.

“Okay, have we covered everybody?” Alec asked, smirking.

The girls shook their heads.

“Not even!” Willow exclaimed, indignant. “We haven’t covered your assets, yet,” she smiled demurely.

Alec rolled his eyes at her choice of words.

“Terrific, I’m on display.” He sighed, pretending he wasn’t enjoying every minute of this.

“Okay,” he got to his feet and spread his arms out flamboyantly. “See anything you like?” he asked, once again facing them. The girls grinned naughtily.

“Could you… um… turn around? Slowly, please,” Willow asked, batting her eyes innocently.

Alec sighed mock exasperatedly and obliged. And, with horror, he suddenly remembered that he had changed out of his normal black jeans into a pair of extraordinarily tight brown leather breeches that DeGanon had given him. He groaned inwardly, they were going to have a field day with this. The two tried their best to remain serious as they studied him.

“Nice pants,” Dawn commented dryly.

Alec closed his eyes as he could almost see the two girls turning to each other, tittering madly.

“Okay, you can turn around now,” Willow bade him.

Alec opened his eyes and slowly turned around. Sure enough, the two girls were biting down on their lower lips in hormonal glee. They began to pick him apart.

“Great taste in clothes,” Dawn commented. “Leather works for him nicely.”

Alec’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Where had the shy young girl with whom he’d watched Monty Python gone? He turned an accusatory glance at Willow.

“Is this your handiwork, love?” he asked.

Willow shook her head. “Nope.”

She grinned and blew the white lock of hair out of her face. “She seems to be coming into her own here.”

Alec snorted. “Terrific,” he muttered sardonically.

“Quiet!” Dawn barked out, “we’re studying.”

Alec snorted again, but fell silent.

“He’s got the double name thing working for him,” Willow noted.

Dawn sighed. “Yeah, but so does Spike, so that doesn’t work,” the young woman replied forlornly.

“Yes, but remember, Angel has the good taste in clothes, too, so we can't exclude things taken by other people or else this will be a very short list,” Willow explained.

“Good,” Alec replied dryly.

They scowled at him then went back to their analysis.

“Okay, good wardrobe and the cool double name, what else?” Dawn asked.

Willow pursed her lips, deep in thought.

“Well, there’s the accent, very Pierce Brosnan,” the witch commented.

Dawn nodded, then added, “Nice eyes.”

Willow nodded and gestured for Alec to lean closer to them. He sighed and did so.

“Black with green and purple in them, very nice,” Willow commented.

“One might even say penetrating,” Dawn replied.

The redhead smiled slightly. “There is that.” She smirked.

Alec sighed and straightened.

“Ladies, much as I love being likened to a prized breeding animal, can we please wrap this up?”

Dawn sighed. “I suppose,” she breathed wistfully.

She and Willow composed their thoughts.

“He’s got the tall, dark look, but without the angst vibe. That makes him accessible, which is a point in his favor,” Willow commented.

“He can fight, too. Very Brandon Lee in the ‘The Crow’,” Dawn put in.

“When did your mother let you watch that movie?” he asked, frowning.

Dawn grinned. “Who said she ‘let’ me?” she replied demurely.

He shifted his glance to Willow, gesturing to the girl.

“And you’re telling me this ISN’T your influence?” he demanded.

Willow shook her head. “Nope, not me,” she replied, grinning prettily.

Alec gave her a skeptical look, before the two girls turned back to the list.

“Okay, then. We’ve got the accent, bravery, being an older man…” Willow looked up. “I think we have our winner.”

Alec smirked. “What an honor,” he replied wryly.

The girls shook their heads.

“Nope,” Dawn grinned.

“Sorry, Alec, your dad beat you,” Willow informed him, shrugging. “He was in a band,” she offered as explanation.

For a moment, Alec looked back and forth between the two, gaping.

“You’re dead,” he whispered.

Both the girls started to giggle, moving away from him.

“Oh, no, you don’t, mister,” Willow forbade him as she and Dawn moved closer together.

“Oh, yes, I do!” he roared and charged them.

They squealed and threw up their hands as Alec pounced on them, tickling them both savagely. Before long, the three of them were in a heap on the floor, howling with glee. Alec looked up to see his father staring down at the three of them, vaguely admonishing. Willow was on the bottom, Alec on top of her and Dawn on top of them both.

“Alec, what are you doing?” he asked mildly.

The young man grinned up at his father. “Truth or dare, Dad,” he replied grinning.

Willow craned her head up. “PG-13 version,” she added, grinning.

“Ah,” Giles said as if that totally explained the three of them in a tangle of arms and legs on the floor.

Shaking his head, bewildered, he headed off to go check on Buffy. Willow looked up past Alec’s shoulder at Dawn, who was lying face down on his back.

“Dawn?”

Dawn peered over Alec’s shoulder to look at the witch.

“Yeah, Willow?”

“GET HIM!”

With that growl, Willow began attacking Alec from the bottom, Dawn from the top. Alec realized with horror that he was sandwiched between two very mischievous women.

“Spike!” he cried out to the blond vampire. “Help!”

Spike turned and snorted at the spectacle, taking in the flailing man and the two women assaulting him.

“Amateur,” he replied grinning. “Back in the heyday, two women were considered breakfast for me,” he chuckled, “and they’ve got you begging for mercy.”

He leveled a warning finger to the other man, who was trying desperately to scramble away, or at least doing his best to look like he was desperately trying to scramble away.

“Better not let them get you behind closed doors, mate. They’ll eat you for lunch.”

That gave Willow a fabulous idea and, with a mock vampire snarl, she began biting Alec, Dawn followed suit.

“Ow! Hey, no biting! Ow! Quit it!” Alec glared at the bleached menace. “Thank you ever so much, Spike,” he growled.

Spike waved it away. “Oh, no worries, mate,” he replied, grinning, before turning his attention back to the Slayer on the cot.

Alec continued to howl in despair for quite some afterwards.



A few hours had gone by. Giles had taken over for Xander, the latter claiming that driving the camper was like driving ‘a really big Pinto’. Giles was still skeptical, but he seemed to be handling himself well. Angel was up front with him to give pointers. The others were gathered in a large circle, continuing with Willow and Dawn’s truth or dare game.

“Okay, a little off the subject, but I have to ask,” Xander put forth. “Xena and her sidekick: were they or weren’t they?” he grinned.

“No!” all the women cried out.

“Yes,” all the men stated simply, earning them all disgusted looks from the women.

“That is so male,” Buffy stated. “Two women can’t have a deep, loving relationship, without being-”

“Buffy, they were naked together in a medieval hot tub,” Xander interrupted.

Buffy’s face fell mid-lecture.

“Oh,” she whispered meekly, before grumbling and settling back against Spike, who was grinning madly.

“Okay, I have to ask the guys this,” Faith chimed in. “What is it with you guys and watching two girls kiss?”

“Yeah!” all the girls exclaimed.

The guys sent each other long suffering looks. How best to explain this?

“Its simple, love,” Spike answered. “All women are insane. The fact that a man and a woman can get together long enough to suck face is amazing. The sight of two double X chromosome lunatics managing it is a spectacle to be regarded with the same amount of awe and reverence as Halley’s Comet, or you know, a Sex Pistols reunion tour,” he finished grinning.

The men roared with laughter, the women began muttering angrily.

“Uh-oh,” Xander commented noticing the unrest.

“Duck!” Alec cried as a barrage of pillows came hurtling towards all the men in the group. They threw their arms up to protect themselves from the onslaught of projectiles.

“Okay, okay, we give!” Xander cried out.

The attack ceased as the women looked at each other, supremely satisfied. Dawn put forth the next question.

“Okay, I have one – what signifies most the difference between a girl and a woman?” she asked, trying hard not to stare at Alec.

“Knockers!” Spike cried out, earning a hard slug from Buffy.

“Shut up, honey,” she retorted.

Spike rubbed his shoulder and grinned wryly.

“What, you want to tell me that the sudden onslaught of funny feelings towards the opposite sex didn’t coincide roughly with the purchase of your first ‘over the shoulder boulder-holder’?” he asked.

Alec nearly died with laughter, flat on his back howling with glee, hands over his eyes. Xander wasn’t faring much better as the woman regarded Spike with outrage.

“SPIKE!” Buffy cried swatting him with the pillow over and over.

He laughed as he parried the blows. “Well, am I right or aren’t I?” he demanded.

Buffy just glared at him before turning back to the group.

“Anyone who has a PULSE,” she shot a glare at Spike, who just winked and chortled, “want to answer Dawn’s question?”

Alec sat up and raised his hand, earning bemused smirks from the girls.

“My brother will now attempt to tell us what it means to be a woman,” Buffy cracked.

Faith laughed. “Way to get in touch with your feminine side, D.”

“I’d like to hear what he has to say,” Dawn put in.

Everyone quieted down thought there was still some snickering. Alec cleared his throat.

“Well, I just think, that as far as women go, their emotional growth can be summed up in one sentence.” He held up a finger.

“ ‘I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel pretty, oh so pretty I feel GAY!” Spike screeched at the top of his lungs, sounding like a cat being put in a blender.

“SHUT UP, SPIKE!” everyone yelled.

The blond vampire sniggered and settled back against the wall, smirking.

“Thank you for that, Spike, I needed to be reminded what true suffering was.” Alec grinned and stuck a finger in his ear, wiggling it around to clear it of Spike’s awful melody before continuing.

“No, I think that the difference between a girl and a woman can be measured by how she loves someone and more importantly, what she’s willing to give up to realize that love.”

There was a stunned silence as the women and men regarded each other in awe at the fairly profound insight.

“Clarify,” Buffy implored.

Alec thought.

“Well, as far as kids go, I mean, they get crushes. And it’s great, you know? This person is their whole world. But it’s unattainable so there’s no fear of sacrifice, I mean, what’s the point of giving something up to be with a person you can never fully have?” he asked.

Buffy nodded and gestured for him to continue. Alec took a deep breath.

“But a woman, I mean, she falls in love with a guy… or a girl,” he shot Spike a wry look, who smirked and gestured for him to carry on, “and she’s willing to do what it takes to make that love a reality. Give up what has to be given up and willing to put blood, sweat and tears into it. Because she’s old enough to realize that he IS attainable and that with enough effort, maybe she can make it happen,” he finished.

Faith frowned. “Okay, so question: what makes a guy attainable?” she asked.

“Yeah, is it like whether or not he has a girlfriend?” Anya chimed in.

“Or maybe he’s older?” Dawn added, trying very hard to sound casual.

Alec shook his head.

“It isn’t any of those things. I mean, a guy may be older or younger than the girl, or he may have a girlfriend and that can certainly be a hurdle. But the biggest thing is one simple question – is he willing to be receptive to her love?” Alec opened his hands. “If he is, then he’s attainable, if not, forget it.”

“So, how does a girl know if a guy’s receptive to her warm fuzzy feelings?” Willow asked, leaning back her head to gaze at her lover wryly; she had found a comfortable spot, leaning against Alec’s upraised knees.

Alec pondered.

“I guess you just have to ask whether or not what he says, and more importantly what he does, shows he has enough care and consideration to be open to her loving him,” he replied uncertainly.

“Okay, and now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question…” Buffy began.

“…What action does a guy do that says love?” Faith finished.

“Trust,” Alec replied unhesitatingly. “If what he does and says inspires trust in you. Like he could tell you anything and it’d be cool, and vice-versa, then you know there’s someone who’s receptive to being loved and thus attainable.” He waved a hand. “I’m not talking about someone who has things to hide, we all do. Cryptic people can still be trusted.”

Buffy shot a look up at Angel, and frowned slightly when she noticed Faith doing the same.

“But if underneath all the elusiveness, there’s a sense that this person really IS looking out for you, really does want nothing but the best for you, you know? Puts your needs before his own, no matter in how subtle a fashion he does it in, then there’s a shot.”

He exhaled hard and shook his head, clearing it, he turned to Dawn.

“That answer your question, petite?” he asked wryly.

Dawn had a shocked look on her face. A look that quickly melted into an expression of sheer rapture.

“Totally,” she beamed at him with sheer joy.

“Bravo!” Buffy clapped.

Everyone joined in applauding the other man’s insight, except Spike, who snorted.

“You’re not going to start taking an interest in interior decorating and memorizing the casts of Broadway musicals now, are you?” he asked derisively.

“Sod off,” Alec retorted.

Spike chuckled and shook his head.

“Okay, next question. Who’re better in bed, the living or the dead?” Faith asked.

Every head in the group turned to face Buffy, who blushed deep red.

“Ummm…” she looked down.

“Go on, love, who makes a better bedmate? Ol’ Captain America or the Big Bad himself?” Spike grinned, jerking a thumb towards his chest.

Buffy bit her lip and looked back and forth.

“Giles!” Buffy cried. “Isn’t it time for more herbal medicine?” she asked shrilly.

Everyone laughed as Spike sputtered.

“Love?” he wailed forlornly.

Buffy just patted his hand. Alec smirked at the outraged vampire’s wounded pride.

“Okay, okay. Let’s cut the wounded protector of truth and justice a break before her boyfriend decides to hitchhike home.” He chuckled. “Next question?”

There was a round of laughter from everyone as Spike struggled to salvage his dignity. The conversation quickly dissolved into a series of ‘Q and A’ of personal intimacy.

Spike was draining a bottle of beer. When he finished, Xander gestured to the empty bottle.

“Hang on a second, ‘Big Bad’.”

He grinned and took the bottle away from the glaring vampire. He held it up.

“Who remembers THIS game?” the often goofy young man grinned, waggling the bottle.

“I do, but I gotta tell you, there are too many people here and I’m WAY too sober to participate,” Faith spoke up.

Everyone slowly turned to look at her with expressions ranging from wry amusement to mute horror. Faith just grinned.

“Or where you talking about another recreational party game?” she asked coyly.

Xander was still mulling over Faith’s implications, Anya swatted him hard on the arm.

“Huh? What? Oh.” He shook his head. “No, I’m talking about ‘Spin the Bottle’,” he hastily explained.

Faith grinned widely.

“My game involves a bottle,” she replied evenly.

“FAITH!” everyone yelled.

“What? I’ve explained a good night slaying’s effect on me!” she grinned.

“Yes, and may it never be repeated,” Buffy chimed in.

Faith laughed as Xander put the bottle down in the center of the circle.

“Okay, so who goes first?” he asked.

“You do!” everyone chimed in.

Xander flinched, but sighed and spun the bottle; it landed on Willow. He smiled sheepishly at Alec.

“You gonna kick my ass, buddy?” he asked.

Alec smirked. “Assume ‘yes’ and take your chances,” he replied.

Willow leaned back to glare playfully at him.

“Be nice, Alec Giles. Xander’s my bestest childhood buddy.”

“He’s your ONLY childhood buddy,” Alec retorted wryly.

Willow sighed mock exasperatedly and leaned over, giving Xander a quick peck on the lips. Xander slowly put his hands up away from Willow, moving away from her slowly, never taking his eyes from Alec who was debating whether or not he should conjure up some shadow stuff just to freak him out.

“You may live to see another day,” Alec assured Xander.

He sighed in relief and turned to Spike. “You’re next, man.”

Spike rolled his eyes, muttering. “This is so bloody juvenile.”

He gave the bottle a spin and groaned in dismay when it landed on Alec.

“There’s no bloody way I’m kissing a bloke!” Spike growled angrily.

Alec arched an inquiring eyebrow. “Gee, honey, was it something I said?” he asked wryly.

Spike snarled at him. Alec laughed and stuck out his hand.

“Consider it a failed date, ending in a firm handshake,” he grinned.

Spike snorted and gave his hand a shake.

“Kissing a bloke, I don’t bleedin’ think so!” he muttered under his breath.

Alec grinned and turned to the group.

“What do you want to bet he’s never going to even call?” he asked, folding his hands over his heart, sniffling pitifully. Everyone laughed as Spike just muttered angrily under his breath.

“Whose turn is it now?” Xander asked.

“Mine.” Buffy leaned down over the edge of the cot and gave the bottle a spin, and snorted wryly when it landed on Spike.

“Pucker up, lover!” He grinned and kissed the Slayer full on the mouth, easing her back down onto the cot amidst much appreciative applause and hooting. They parted and grinned at the group.

“Now that’s more like it!” Spike roared happily.

“What happened to the game being ‘bloody juvenile?' ” Xander asked.

Spike snorted.

“Yeah, well, if I get a beautiful woman’s tongue in my mouth, it ceases to be ‘bloody juvenile’ and becomes ‘bloody brilliant’!” he replied, grinning.

There was a round of laughter at Spike’s outrageous statement.

“Next?” Buffy asked.

Faith walked up. “My turn.”

She grinned and gave the bottle a good hard spin, and grinned wickedly when it landed on Buffy. The latter’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Now, hold on there, Faith,” she warned.

Faith just grinned as Spike, who looked like he was about to die another time through laughing, moved out of her way to grant her a clear line of fire at the blond Slayer.

“Yeah, B?” Faith asked slowly stalking over.

Buffy jutted out her hand. “A firm handshake for a failed date,” she said finally.

Faith grinned and moved to take the hand, before suddenly dipping her head and gathering the surprised Slayer’s mouth in a long kiss. There was a stunned silence, followed by a roar of approval by the men.

“Good show!” Spike cried out.

“Oh, my… God!” Alec howled with laughter, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

Xander was nearly in fits as he took in the kissing Slayers, slack-jawed. Finally, Faith released the struggling Buffy.

“My dates don’t fail, B.”

She winked at the other woman, who was sputtering madly, then turned and gathered hard high-fives from all the guys.

“Was anyone else aroused by that?” Xander asked.

“Yo!” Alec and Spike called out in unison, raising their hands enthusiastically.

Buffy swatted Spike and Willow socked Alec on the arm.

“That wasn’t funny!” Buffy cried, trying not to laugh.

“Yes, it was,” Alec replied, rubbing his arm.

Buffy turned around and grinned reluctantly. “Yes, it was,” she admitted.

Giving Faith an appreciative look, she asked. “Teach me that trick sometime, huh, Faith?”

Her sister Slayer grinned. “Your bedroom or mine, B?” she asked demurely.

“Mine!” Spike chimed in earning laughter from the group. “And only if I can get a hold of a good quality camcorder,” he added.

Xander held his hands out before him.

“ ‘Vampire Slayer Vixens Unchained’,” he envisioned. “It’d be pay-per-view material,” he declared.

Everyone else laughed.

“I’d order it,” Alec commented wryly.

Another round of laughter echoed in the trailer as Willow rolled her eyes.

“Well, THAT was interesting,” Alec chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he reached for the bottle, to take his turn.

Dawn held her breath, hoping against hope. Alec gave the bottle a spin and it landed…

…on Anya. Dawn bit her lip to keep from wailing in disappointment. Alec smirked wryly.

“One good turn deserves another, huh, Xander?” he grinned at the younger man, who looked pretty uncomfortable.

“Just make it quick,” he growled.

Anya didn’t look too pleased either. Alec cordially took her hand and kissed it before grinning at the both of them.

“Was that acceptable?” he asked wryly.

Xander nodded and Alec settled back against his feet as Willow took the bottle and gave it a spin, it spun a few turns and landed on Spike. The vampire grinned.

“This is just my night,” he replied chortling.

Alec shot him a warning look as Spike walked over and planted a kiss on the witch’s cheek.

“There we go, love, proper as could be.” He winked as Willow sighed in relief.

She got on her hands and knees to hand Anya the bottle and Spike lashed out and gave her upraised rump a resounding smack!. Willow gasped in surprise and nearly fell on top of Anya as everyone laughed. Spike straightened and bowed.

“Thank you, thank you, no applause, please.” He held up his hands in mock humility.

Alec chuckled as he gathered the furiously blushing Willow in his arms. She sputtered, red-faced, and pointed at Spike.

“He slapped my butt!” she cried out accusingly.

Spike grinned and nodded. Willow growled at him and raised her hands to cast a spell.

“I’ll show him,” she muttered.

Spike looked alarmed as Alec gently placed a restraining hand on her arms.

“Now, now, love, let the vampire have his laugh.” He grinned and kissed her face, gently patting her stinging backside appreciatively. “He could not have found a finer derriere to smack,” he assured her.

Willow grinned, made a happy sound and snuggled closer to Alec. Dawn rolled her eyes and made the gesture of gagging with her finger. Alec smirked at the display as Anya spun the bottle, it fortunately landing on Xander.

“Good,” she muttered as she leaned in to kiss her boyfriend, “because I don’t want to kiss any of you other people, I only want to kiss Xander.”

Xander chuckled and silenced her with a kiss.

“And for that, we are grateful,” Alec commented wryly as the group broke into a round of applause.

Finally Dawn was the only one left.

“Okay, I guess that leaves you, little lady,” Xander told her.

Buffy frowned and was about to protest before she remembered how old she had been when she’d played her first game of ‘Spin the Bottle’. Dawn tentatively reached forward, her eyes squeezed shut in prayer.

Please God, let it be him, oh please oh please oh please, she pleaded within her head. Giving the bottle a hard spin she watched it spin with enormous intensity. The bottle spun, then slowed, then stopped. She looked up her eyes wide.

“Well, petite,” Alec chuckled. “Guess that leaves you and me,” he observed wryly.

YEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!!!!! Dawn nearly cried out in joy.

Buffy, noticing the look on her face, smiled but didn’t mention it.

“First kiss, D?” Faith asked.

Dawn nodded as she slowly leaned towards Alec.

Faith grinned. “Hell of a pick,” she replied, chuckling at the younger girl’s good fortune.

Alec cast Buffy a look.

“You’re not going to kick my ass, are you?” he asked worriedly.

Dawn whipped her head around; a tiny sound of what almost sounded like barely-restrained pleading escaping her lips as she implored her sister with soulful eyes. Buffy pretended to consider the question as Dawn looked ready to explode.

“Nah, not this time, Alec,” she smiled as her sister’s taut face collapsed with relief.

Alec chuckled and turned to Willow.

“Don’t look at me, mister, do your duty!” Willow replied to his unspoken question, gesturing to Dawn.

He smiled and leaned towards Dawn, who was reaching out to his face with a shaking hand. Gently, he took her hand in his and reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Dawn closed her eyes expectantly as she tilted her head to meet his mouth with hers. Their mouths were two inches apart, then one. She could feel his breath against her lips; she held her breath, her heart pounding…

…And with a screech of brakes, the camper skidded to a stop, sending Dawn tumbling into Alec, who caught her as everyone fell to one side.

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Dawn raged quietly, tears of frustration leaking out of her eyes.

Alec didn’t notice as he cast a look to the front of the camper.

“Nice parking job, Dad,” he commented dryly.

Giles stepped to the back of the camper as everyone climbed back into their seats, except Dawn, who was still clinging to Alec’s shirt, white-knuckled.

“I’m terribly sorry, everybody,” Giles apologized. “For some reason, I didn’t see the entrance to the Estate until we were right on top of it.”

Dawn glared at him with eyes filled to the brim with murderous intent. Alec chuckled and got to his feet, helping the disappointed young woman to hers. He stroked her face and winked.

“Rain check, huh, petite?” he grinned at her.

Dawn just nodded. Leaning forward he kissed her hair and followed his father off the camper, trying to ignore a powerful feeling that he had missed something important. Buffy walked over to Dawn.

“It could have been worse,” she commented. “Remind me to tell you about my first kiss with Angel.”

She wrapped a comforting arm around her sister and led her off the camper.

The group got off the camper; the sun had just set as Buffy stretched out her arms and sighed, being mindful of her knee.

“Ah, good to be back in the Casa del Slayer,” she looked around puzzled. The guards were gone, the gate open, “Ummm…is it just me or is it awfully ‘dark and lonely’ out here?”

“It’s just you, Buffy,” a voice called out. She spun around, just in time to see dozens of small wrens come together. The birds flocked into a humanoid shape and within seconds, Marlena was standing there, pushing back a feathered cowl. She smiled as everyone began applauding.

“Judges, give her an eight,” Xander chimed in.

“Eight-five on account of plumage,” Alec added as Buffy limped over and hugged the older woman. Marlena smiled.

“Busy couple of days?” she asked wryly. Buffy rolled her eyes,

“You have no idea,” she replied. Marlena pursed her lips thoughtfully,

“Actually…” she let the insinuation hang in the air before gesturing, the ruby red tortoise plodded over to them as Marlena helped Buffy onto its crimson back. “Take a load off,” she advised wryly. Buffy smiled and leaned down to pat Aeon on the head. It grunted slightly. She smiled and gestured,

“Okay, introductions, this is Faith,” she gestured to the younger slayer who grinned and nodded, “And Dawn,” she finished. Dawn smiled shyly and waved. Marlena curtsied,

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she smiled and winked before straightening to address them all. “I’ve spoken with the residents here, and they’ve all agreed that you are welcome to be our guests for as long as you like,” she informed them. Giles smiled, pleased,

“Thank you for that, Marlena, we’re grateful, of course,” Marlena waved it away,

“No more grateful that we are for your assistance in the defense of our home,” she replied evenly, taking his arm and leading them the manor. Buffy frowned and looked around, being borne along at a steady plodding pace by the giant turtle.

“I don’t get it, Marlena. This place usually looks like an Alcatraz throwback. Guards' day off?” Marlena smiled slightly,

“I thought that perhaps the sight of men with guns might disquiet you all, so I took the liberty of excusing them for a half an hour.” Buffy snorted,

“Remind me to tell you about the Initiative, sometime,” she replied. They came in full view of the manor and everyone who hadn’t already seen it gasped.

“That’s…big,” Xander commented dryly.

“And spooky,” Willow added. Buffy smiled at them,

“It’s much nicer on the inside, trust me,” she assured them.

“Uh-huh,” Willow replied in a small voice and swallowed as the group bypassed the massive gates. Sure enough, they were overwhelmed by visions of gold and gleaming marble inside. Jaws dropped,

“Do you see…?” Spike gaped.

“Uh-huh,” Angel replied.

“Can you believe…?”

“Uh-huh,”

Spike was leaning to stare at a solid gold statue. He reached out to touch it with trembling hands

“Can we just…?”

“No,” Angel replied, swatting his covetous hand away from the gold statue.

Marlena grinned as they walked over a large white marble circle inlaid in the center of the chamber. As they were crossing it, Alec jolted to a stop. He frowned and nearly fell over, Willow turned to him,

“Alec?” she asked concerned. Alec just kept frowning struggling against an unseen force.

“Uh, I can’t move,” he replied. His body shook with the effort of locomotion, it just wasn’t happening. Everyone turned around,

“Hey D, what’s the hold up?” Faith asked, Willow turned to face her.

“He can’t move,” she explained worriedly. Faith frowned and walked over to him.

“Come again?” she asked. Marlena followed.

“We’re right above the prime mystical convergence,” Marlena explained as she pointed at the marble circle, “Beneath this circle is the highest concentration of magical energy here at Grigori,” She frowned at the paralyzed youth, “You can’t move at all?” she asked. Alec tried to shake his head but that wasn’t going to happening either. Marlena sighed and gently placed a hand over his forehead, chanting a few words, there was a bright blue flash of light and Marlena hurriedly drew her hand back and wrung it in pain.

“That stung,” she said mildly, sucking on her fingers.

“What happened?” Willow asked, concerned. Marlena waved away her concern,

“I cast a minor incantation to see if your young man here was reacting to the node. The response was an overwhelming ‘affirmative’,” she explained. Reaching into her pocket, she sprinkled some dust over Alec’s head. There was a humming sound, like a tuning fork and without any warning, Alec pitched forward, nearly falling flat on his face. Marlena caught him easily,

“There we go,” she commented wryly, helping him stand. “Better?” she asked. He nodded,

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. She smiled slightly as he shook out the pins and needles feeling that his entire body had been enveloped in. Willow looked at him with concern,

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked. He exhaled and nodded,

“I’m good. Let’s…” he gestured to the others who had began to drift away. She nodded and wrapped an arm around his leading him away from the enchanted circle.

Marlena was busy giving everyone the grand tour. She opened one door revealing, of all things, a massive video game arcade. Dawn, Anya, and Xander rushed forward, requiring no further prompting, and were delighted to realize that none of the video games required quarters. Within seconds they were blasting away aliens, laughing. The group turned and walked away. Alec stopped to give Dawn a lingering look before departing, the near miss in the camper springing to mind. He shook his head, sighing and left. Dawn looked up from her game, just long enough to catch him looking at her. He didn’t notice, lost in his thoughts as he was, and she frowned unhappily. Something was bothering him, and that was something she didn’t like at all. Sighing she turned back to the video game.

Marlena opened another set of marble doors, revealing an absolutely sprawling swimming pool, complete with miniature waterfall and lagoon. Buffy and Faith grinned; they both loved swimming. Even Giles seemed pleased, admitting that a few hours in a hot tub might do his back wonders. Marlena mentioned swimsuits and a changing room and the Slayers were off, Faith helping the limping Slayer into one of the changing booths, before entering her own. Giles smiled slightly and casting a concerned look to his son, which Alec waved off, he had felt no other side effects from his temporary paralysis, Giles headed to another changing booth. The air in the pool room was warm, and didn’t stink of chlorine. Willow inhaled appreciatively,

“Hey Alec, you want to go swimming?” she asked excitedly. Alec shook his head,

“In a little bit, love, I’m going to talk with Marlena for a while,” she frowned, disappointed. He smiled reassuringly and kissed her, “Go. Make sure Buffy doesn’t drown or something,” she smiled prettily and bounded off to the changing room. Alec shook his head, chuckling as Spike approached him,

“Question, mate,” Spike chimed in, “Just how do you endure that much perkiness?” Alec looked up at the blond vampire,

“Really. Good. Sex,” he replied, emphasizing each word. Spike nodded,

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled. Marlena gestured to the changing rooms.

“If you boys would like to join the ladies, there are plenty of bathing suits to go around,” Spike looked down uncomfortably.

“I um...not interested,” he mumbled. Marlena frowned,

“You don’t like swimming, Spike?” she asked.

“He can’t swim,” Angel answered, smirking slightly. Spike snarled at him,

“Push off!” he growled. Angel snorted,

“Look at it this way, Spike, you can’t drown either,” Spike pursed his lips together, he hadn’t thought of that. He sighed and padded over to the changing rooms, Angel followed, leaving Alec and Marlena alone on the rim of the pool. She turned to him,

“And you, young man, what’s your pleasure?” she asked.

“A gym,” he replied, “I need to work out some tension,” Marlena nodded, seemingly, and completely unsurprised by his request.

“This way,” she replied, gesturing to a flight of stairs. Alec followed and was brought into a dimly lit work out room, complete with weights and a punching bag. Alec nodded,

“This’ll do,” he informed his hostess. She smiled slightly,

“Any particular reason as to this tension?” she asked mildly. Alec sighed,

“Yes, I’m having weird feelings about my surrogate sister's kid sister and metal keeps popping out of my arm,” he replied, sighing heavily. Marlena nodded,

“I see,” she replied, placing a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. She shook her head,

“I’ll come by later, see if I can’t bring you something that would help,” she patted his arm affectionately and headed out, leaving the dark man alone in the dim room.

The others were having the times of their lives in the pool. The girls were splashing around; the men were lounging around in the shallow end sipping drinks. Marlena had dug up a pair of some sort of amoeba-like creatures that once she applied them to Buffy’s shoulder and knee, guaranteed that water would not get it and that it would accelerate the regeneration of damaged tissue. To Buffy, it felt like having a jellyfish lodged on her skin minus the stinging, A little creepy, but after a while, she forgot about it and was whooping along with everyone else. Giles, Spike and Angel were sitting in the shallow end, sipping brandy and talking.

“I’m really not sure what to make of Dracula’s counsel,” Giles explained, “The Everstone was at least an object, this ‘Wordless Psalm,’ it’s all terribly vague,” he sighed. Spike snorted,

“Yeah, who’d ever think, Count Chocula being elusive?” he shook his head in derision and turned to Angel, “What is it with you pretty boys and not being able to give a straight answer?” he asked, without any real malice. Angel scoffed,

“I don’t know, what is it with you homely people and not being able to figure out our answers?” he replied evenly. Spike sent a spray of water at the other vampire. Angel frowned,

“The old guy in the gem room said something about ‘a Hebrew word that meant truth and also death,’ he shook his head as Giles frowned,

“That actually sounds familiar, the Jewish people have a very rich mystical culture, dating back several thousand years. You know, if I-”

Suddenly his head pitched, flinging his glasses into the pool, as a volleyball ball collided hard with his head.

“Oops!” Buffy blushed, “Sorry!” she called out apologetically. Giles sighed as he rubbed his head; Spike hurled the ball back at the girls and tried (half-heartedly) not to burst out in laughter. Angel fished around in the water and found Giles’ glasses,

“Here you go,” he offered, handing the drenched spectacles back to the watcher. Giles sighed and accepted them,

“Thank you,” he replied wearily.

“Nice shot, B,” Faith commented as the girls gathered around in a circle to chat. Buffy looked sheepish.

“Sorry, a little too much slayer in that last toss, I suppose,” she smiled and gestured to the men who were in deep discussion, “What do you think they’re talking about?” she asked. Faith shrugged,

“What else? Us,” she replied grinning. Willow rolled her eyes,

“I’m sure they have more interesting things to talk about than us,” she replied calmly. Faith shook her head,

“Say what you will, Red, but the greatest mystery to man is the female mind,” she grinned crookedly at the witch, “Why do you think they put up with us?” she asked wryly. Buffy snorted,

“Because if they didn’t, they’d have to bring their mothers to prom,” she replied. The girls laughed. Willow sighed and cast another look back at the door Alec had left out of. Buffy caught her look,

“He’ll be fine, Will, he probably just needs some time to vent,” she reached out and sipped from a glass of ice tea that was floating on the water, without tipping. Such casual violations of the laws of physics were by this time, largely unnoticed by the group. “We’ve all been under pretty tight quarters,” she explained, “Alec’s always been a little…space-requiring,” she placed a wet hand on her friends shoulder, “Don’t take it personally, boys are weird,” Willow smiled slightly at that and shrugged,

“I know, and I’m not worried about that, it’s just…” she sighed and cast another look for the door, “He hasn’t been the same since we got back from the Deadlands, he’s lost a lot of his confidence,” she turned back to the slayers, who were wearing expressions of concern, “He blames himself for me dying and everything and it sort of shish-kabobed his faith in himself. So he’s getting himself all wound up,”

“Wound up too tight you think?” Buffy asked, concerned. Willow nodded,

“I’m worried he’s pushing himself too hard. Like he has something to prove to all of us,” Willow explained. Faith sighed,

“I know what that’s like,” she shook her wet hair, “You just gotta understand him, he’s a fighter, he fights a lot and he fights well. Now all of a sudden, he’s lost a fight, and someone he loved died, and he’s pretty wigged,”

“Yeah, plus don’t forget the…” Buffy gestured to her arm and pantomimed things springing out of it. Willow sighed and nodded,

“That’s just it, he needs downtime,” she frowned unhappily, “He’s always been a Giles’ man, when it came to duty, but I seriously think he needs to cut himself some slack,”

SLAM! Alec wailed on the punching back, lashing out with taped-up fists again and again into the black canvas bag. He stepped back, clad only in a pair of black sweatpants. He growled and whirled around, hitting the bag with a roundhouse kick that almost split the skin on his foot. Landing lightly on the ball of his foot, he pivoted, thrust out a kick, before crouched and slammed a long series of strikes into the bag, sending it swinging away. He caught the bag with a hard forearm strike, before sagging against it, chest heaving.

“You weren’t kidding,” a voice called from behind him. Alec turned around to see Marlena regarding him kindly, “You are tense,” Alec sighed and mopped away a bead of sweat from his brow with his hand. The woman sat down,

“You want to talk about it?” she asked. Alec shook his head, sending droplets of perspiration flying.

“Not even a little,” he replied, going back to the punching bag. Marlena nodded,

“Okay,” she watched him vent on the canvas bag for a while, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that burst of necromantic energy I felt the other night would it?” she asked. Alec snarled and lashed out with a particularly punishing blow to the bag, sending it swinging away. He placed a hand on the bag and turned to her,

“Yeah, it might,” he replied tersely. Marlena nodded,

“Willow?” she asked. He nodded,

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“She died?”

“Yeah,”

“And was brought back?”

“That’s right,” Alec replied, turning his attention back to the bag.

“And you blame yourself for her dying?” Marlena observed. Alec didn’t answer he just hit the bag harder. Marlena nodded in understanding.

“Is there anyone else I should blame?” Alec growled as he continued to pummel the bag.

“Mercurio?” she asked mildly. Alec snorted and whipped around with another roundhouse kick.

“He’s dead,” he growled, landing on his feet and thrusting two back punches to the bag. Marlena nodded,

“I imagine so. So if he’s dead, and Willow’s safe, then why are you still angry?” she asked gently. Alec didn’t turn to look at her,

“Because it never should have happened,” he bit out through clenched teeth. Marlena nodded,

“No, no it shouldn’t have, but it did, and you need to figure out how to deal with it,” Alec scoffed and continued hitting the bag.

“I am dealing with it,” he replied coarsely. Marlena walked over to him and placed a hand on his damp shoulder. He turned around and Marlena took his hands in hers, holding them up.

“This,” she gestured to his bloody, split knuckles, “Is not dealing with it,” Alec just shrugged and watched as the wounds healed over. “Beating yourself up is not dealing with it,” she dropped his newly healed hands, “You’re not all powerful.”

“Well I should be!” Alec raged as he began resuming his beating.

“Were they demons?” he asked, slamming into the bag, “No. Were they vampires?” he snarled and slammed another fist into the bag, “No! What were they?” his teeth were clenched together so hard, Marlena could hear the molars grinding, “They were just stupid, rotten walking corpses,” he raged, punishing the bag and himself,

“And I,”

Slam!

“Couldn’t”

Slam!!

“Do,”

Slam!

“Anything”

Slam!

“About it!” he finished and roared slamming his fist into the bag and wasn’t surprised to see black metal sprouting out of his arm, impaling the canvas bag, transfixing it to the spot and causing sand to leak out. He panted for a while and with a grunt ripped his transformed arm out of the bag, ripping it almost in half. Sand continued to pile up on the floor as the shredded half of the bag dangled by a few strands of canvas. He gestured at Marlena with the bladed instrument for emphasis.

“Never again, Marlena,” he said in a voice shaking with fury, “Never again does someone die because I don’t have the power to save them. No matter what it takes, I promise you.”

“Easy,” she soothed, stroking his damp hair from his eyes, “Relax, Let the rage drain out of you,” he scowled and shook his head,

“Willow died and I couldn’t do anything about, where were these…THINGS then?” he demanded gesturing to the blades. Marlena sighed and shook her head,

“The Weapon doesn’t work that way,” she explained. Alec frowned at her.

“ ‘The Weapon?” he asked puzzled. She nodded and gently reached out to his transformed arm. Alec instantly drew away,

“Shhhh,” she soothed, gently touching the arm, “It’s okay,” she whispered. Lightly, she danced her fingertips over the myriad of blades and hooks. The blades crackled with purple energy. She smiled slightly,

“The Weapon usually takes a more…poetic form,” she gestured to the brutal looking instrument, “This is unformed, all it is, is reflex and emotion. And judging by how unpleasant it looks, I’m going to say that emotion is blinding rage,” she stroked a long curved, serrated blade jutting out from his wrist and sighed, “It need not be so,” she told him. Alec sat down on a bench,

“What is this thing?” he asked quietly. Marlena sighed and settled into a tale,

“The Weapon is like the Key in some ways,” she began, “However, unlike the Key, the Weapon comes for a darker place. It can be used for either noble or evil purposes, but always for violence,” she sighed, “It’s an instrument of battle, whether that battle be to protect or to destroy,” she smiled slightly and reached out to touch Alec’s forehead and instantly he was awash in a sea of images. He saw a king with a glorious sword. Feeling his arm tingle, he looked down in shock to see that what had once been nothing more than a collection of hooks and knives, had become an exact replica of the sword, its golden hilt terminating at his wrist. Marlena smiled slightly,

“When Arthur used it, it was called Excalibur,” she stated quietly. Alec looked up at her in shock and gestured to the sword coming out of his arm,

“This is…” Marlena nodded, smiling,

“The one and only,” she replied. She regarded the weapon, “Of course, it wasn’t grafted to his arm at the time. Alec frowned,

“How…?” he began to ask. She smiled.

“Go ahead, give it a shot,” she gestured to the blade. Frowning, Alec reached down and wedged the fingers of his left hand between the hilt and his wrist, startled to find indeed, that there was purchase for his fingers. He grunted and with hardly a whisper of protest, the blade slid free from his arm with the sound of a sword being removed from its sheath. He caught the blade in his left hand and gaped down at his right arm, now once again ending in his hand. He looked back at Marlena, who smiled approvingly,

“See? Isn’t that better?” she asked.

“What? How?” Alec stammered, Marlena leaned back and considered.

“The Weapon isn’t a spell, rather it is a spiritual artifact, that is grafted to someone’s soul before they are born. Like the Slayer, one is chosen every generation to bear the weapon. Unlike the slayer, sometimes the wrong person gets chosen.” She reached out and placed a hand over his eyes and instantly he was in London, there was a scream and a man was dragging a knife across the throat of a young woman, dumping her body to the ground. Alec shuddered and opened his eyes, looking down in his hand; the sword had become the scalpel in his vision. Alec paled,

“Yes, sometimes the Weapon winds up in the wrong hands,” Marlena gestured to the glittering blade, “Jack was a bad idea,” she commented quietly. Alec looked up his face tight with horror,

“Jack? As in Jack the Ripper?” he asked, aghast. Marlena nodded quietly.

“Like I said, the Weapon can be used for good or evil, but always for violence,” she sighed and shook her head, “But there are better uses,” she smiled and touched his head again, instantly he was awash in memories. France, during the reign of Louis the Fourteenth and a man named,

“D’Artagnan?” he asked in disbelief gesturing to the now-rapier in his hand, “This was used by THE D’Artagnan?” Marlena grinned,

“One for all and all for one, young musketeer,” she chuckled, “But you’re missing the point,” she gestured to the foil in his hand, “The Weapon, whether ‘tis used for good or ill, is a force that imbues its wielder with its…” she smiled slightly, “…double-edged gifts, if you’ll forgive the pun,” Alec looked down at the sword, then back at Marlena,

“How do I…?” Marlena smiled,

“Just will it; it’ll respond,” Alec looked back at the sword and focused, the blade began to sink into the skin of his arm, flooding it with an overwhelming pins and needles sensation. Within seconds, it was gone, leaving only numbness and a purple electric residual.

“The Force is strong with this one,” Marlena quipped wryly. Alec flexed his fingers and turned back to Marlena,

“What does this have to do with my darkness powers? You told my father that the Keeper demon chose my soul to bond with for a reason, why?” Marlena smiled,

“What better weapon for the Keepers to wage their war on rest of demon-kind with than THE Weapon,” she shook her head, “Those shadowy aristocrats have a vicious sense of irony. Besides, your darkness powers, like the trick with your coat, all of it responds to will and focus. It’s always better to visualize what you want rather than trust instinct and reaction to interpret your emotions correctly” Alec focused on his hand, and instantly three claws popped out of between his middle knuckles. Marlena smirked,

“I see we’re a comic book fan,” she commented wryly. Alec tested the claws experimentally, before turning to the shredded punching bag, the bottom half still dangling by a few threads of canvas. He turned to look back at Marlena, she smiled and gestured, Alec reared back, and with a roar lashed out with the claws, the last few strands of material holding the heavy back together were sliced to ribbons, sending the dangling bottom part flying across the room to hit the wall with a resounding thud. Marlena applauded,

“Upper deck!” she cried out, laughing. Alec smiled slightly and the claws retracted under his skin. He frowned,

“You mentioned the Key…” he began, Marlena nodded.

“You make a pretty good guardian for her,” he shook his head,

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, why do I feel this…overwhelming need to protect her?” he asked. Marlena sighed and threw up her hands exasperated.

“Alec, did it ever occur to you that the reason you want to protect her is because you love her and that you’re a good person?”

“Not really,” he replied evenly. Marlena sighed hard,

“THIS is what happens when young men live a hundred years in a demon realm without any human contact, Alec,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “You’re a GOOD man. Believe it or not, you are, you fight the war on evil without thought of reward,”

Alec shrugged, “So? So does Buffy and my dad and everyone else,” he replied.

Marlena nodded. “And they’re good people, right? So why don’t YOU count yourself within that category?” she asked, sounding a little frustrated. Alec sighed and shook his head,

“Because how can I be a good person when I love two different people?” he finally asked, “When I’ve got this….this darkness inside of me?” Marlena smiled and stroked his cheek affectionately,

“Love. Real love, in your heart, can do no wrong. As long as you let that love guide your actions, you have nothing to worry about,” she smiled, “As I said before, Willow, you love with your heart,” the radiant woman placed a hand on his bare chest, “And Dawn, you love with your soul. And believe it or not, the ONLY one who is having a serious problem with this, is you,” she finished, “And you know, Dawn is very much in love with you,” she added. Alec turned around to regard her with shock, which caused Marlena to laugh,

“Trust a man to remain oblivious to the obvious,” she commented wryly. She gave the half-nude man an appraising look, “Well, at least she has good taste,” she observed, a hint of feminine humor leaking into the comment. Alec colored slightly and tugged on a shirt.

“Enough of that…AUNT,” he replied, stressing the last word. Marlena chuckled and shook her head,

“My loss, I’m sure,” she quipped before laughing a silver bells laugh. Suddenly, Alec’s stomach erupted in a ferocious growl. He colored and wrapped his arms around his offending stomach as Marlena grinned,

“That reminds me, using the Weapon, it increases your metabolism rate. You’re going to come down with a major case of the munchies after every use,” she gestured out of the door, “The uh…cafeteria is this way,” she pointed. Alec nodded and collecting his coat followed the other woman out of the room, not noticing that as he closed the door, the gym, the damaged bag, everything quickly faded into gray and then nothing.

Alec came into the poolroom after eating and looked around smiling. The girls were all playing a game of volleyball against the guys. Dawn, Xander and Anya had returned and were whooping it up with the rest of them. Faith saw Alec enter and called a time out as everyone turned to look at their reclusive friend. Willow turned around and frowned concerned,

“Alec, is everything okay?” she asked. Alec smiled slightly and came to he edge of the pool, taking a deep breath,

It reacts to control, he told himself. Opening his eyes, he lifted his foot up…and stepped out onto the open water. His coat opened up and darkness curled around his back to support his foot. Not breaking his concentration, he walked along the surface of the water, each footstep being supported by a piece of darkness, behind him trailing a colossal shroud of darkness that scraped the ceiling with countless tendrils. The others gaped.

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered quietly. Alec reached the end of the pool and with a bound, leapt off the top of the water onto the concrete rim. Turning, he regarded his friends. They were all looking at him in stunned disbelief, darkness whips and exploding coats was one thing, walking on water and behemoth shrouds of blackness was another. Holding up his hand, Alec focused and the three claws sprouted out of his knuckles, smiling slightly, he turned to the wall, and with a shower of sparks, began carving something. Everyone looked at each other, puzzled. Willow was swimming up to him, Dawn was hanging back, afraid to make it obvious that she wanted to be there. Alec stepped back from his work and revealed it to everyone else.

‘Scooby Gang was here!’ it read. There was another silence, followed by first Xander laughing, then Buffy and pretty soon the whole room was howling with amusement at the sheer absurdity of it all. Alec retracted the claws back under his skin and helped Willow out of the pool. The dripping witch hugged him tightly,

“You’ve learned to control it?” she asked. He nodded,

“Never doubt the expertise of silver-haired slayers,” he replied. She smiled and kissed his face…and then promptly shoved him into the pool. There was a loud splash as Alec hit the water, arms flailing. Everyone laughed and pointed,

“Way to go, Red!” Faith cheered. Alec surfaced, sputtering but not entirely surprised.

“Never doubt the craftiness of concerned girlfriends,” Willow responded glibly to Alec’s shocked look.

Some time later, they all had toweled off and were gathered in the common room. They were sitting in a circle around Alec as he was obligingly demonstrating his newfound power.

“Okay, okay,” Xander laughed, “Now do Freddy Krueger,” he implored. Alec rolled his eyes but obligingly stretched out his fingers and claws slide out from under his fingernails. He held up the claws for the group to appraise. There were chuckles from everyone as Giles took off his glasses,

“The Weapon, my own son,” he shook his head amazed, “The Weapon has a history stretching back to Dark Ages, to find it now, here…” he shook his head in awe, “It’s possibly one of the most significant magical re-discoveries since…” he shot a look at Dawn, who was oblivious to the conversation, she was too busy enthralled with Alec as he shifted the claws to a massive axe-blade and held it up for her to examine,

“…Since, well for a very long time in any case,” Giles finished. Buffy caught his glance and nodded understandingly.

“Question,” Willow chimed in, taking in Alec and Dawn’s byplay with wry amusement, “The Weapon combined with the Slayer and the raising of the Hellmouth,” she looked back at Giles, “Doesn’t it all seem a little too…coincidence-ish?” She finished. Giles nodded,

“It would seem that there are events that are quickly coming together,” he frowned, “Forming a pattern that is almost cataclysmic in scope,” Anya looked up at him,

“Huh?” she replied.

“The ‘fits’ about to hit the ‘shan’,” Faith put in. Buffy nodded and started counting off on her fingers,

“Two slayers, Dracula, the Everstone, a third slayer back from the grave, the Hellmouth rising,” she looked at Dawn who was still giggling at Alec’s antics. She leaned in to whisper, “The Key, and now this ‘Weapon’?” she shook her head. “This is getting bigger and bigger,” she breathed out hard.

“If this is going to be as big and bad as we all think its going to be,” Alec turned to her, his hand reformed into a normal hand, “Then we’re going to need all the help we can get,” he held up his hand causing claws to spring out of his knuckles, “If these will help us deal with whatever the Hellmouth is planning on tossing at us, so be it,”

“Right on,” Spike chimed in toweling his hair dry, “ After all it’s just like I’ve always said, ‘There’s no such thing as ‘overkill’, only ‘just enough kill,” he finished. Angel smirked wryly,

“Words to live by,” he commented dryly. Buffy nodded and turned back to the group,

“So, what’s the next move?” she asked. Giles sighed and replaced his glasses on his face,

“Well, we have the stone, now we need this ‘Wordless Psalm” the watcher advised. Marlena nodded,

“There’s a place, down in Manhattan, a lot of demons hang out there. The maitre d’ there is supposed to be pretty connected,” she told them. “It’d be a good place to start,” she finished. Alec nodded,

“Oh goody, back to New York,” he commented dryly. There was a round of chuckles from the group.

“No subway,” Xander put in hurriedly. Buffy smirked,

“Don’t worry Xand, I’ll ask DeGanon if he can spare an escort once we get back to the city,” she assured him. Xander nodded,

“Good, cause the subways just aren’t safe,” he stated matter-of-factly, “Vampires, sewer monsters…”

“…Rude attendants,” Alec finished wryly. Another round of smirks from the group.

“Okay, where’s this place?” Buffy asked. Marlena sighed and thought,

“I’ll make sure you get the address before you leave,” she gestured to the slayers bandages wounds, “Those are healing, but you still need at least another day of recuperation before I’d send you out against the forces of evil,” she commented dryly. Alec nodded,

“Dad and I are going to hit the library here, do some serious research,” Alec nodded.

“Can I help?” Willow asked perkily. Alec smiled wryly, touched by her enthusiasm,

“Deal, lover,” he replied.

“I want to help too,” Dawn chimed in. Alec smiled indulgently,

“It’ll mean a lot of hitting of books,” he told her.

“Yeah and sometimes, if you’re reading the old books that have gone cranky, sometimes, they hit back,” Willow added laughing. Dawn nodded enthusiastically,

“Oh no, that’s okay, I like reading,” she replied hurriedly. Buffy sent her a shocked look,

“Since when?” she demanded incredulously. Dawn shot her a nasty look,

“Well, at least I knew what Hogwart’s was when it came up in conversation last week,” she replied haughtily, sticking her tongue out. Buffy chuckled and decided not to goad her sister any further. Giles nodded,

“All right then, that’s what we’ll do. Alec, Dawn, Willow and myself will do research,” he put a finger to his lip thoughtfully. “I’d recommend for the rest of you to recover and recuperate for the remainder of the day and the next,” Xander grinned,

“Cool, the G-man has officially sanctioned party time for the Scooby gang,” he smiled. “So who wants a pool tournament?” he put forth. Spike and Anya raised their hands,

“Prepare to lose your shirt, mate,” Spike challenged.

“Prepare to lose more than that,” Anya added with a very naughty smirk. Alec turned to regard her in amazement,

“Is that ALL you think about?” he asked disbelievingly. Anya thought,

“Yes,” she replied evenly. Xander put a hand over his eyes blushing.

“Oh,” Alec replied, “Okay then. Good that you have priorities,” Giles sighed and turned to Marlena,

“Marlena, would you be willing to assist in research?” he asked. Marlena smiled prettily,

“Okay,” she began. Giles looked relieved.

“But only if you agree to let me make dinner for you,” she added. Giles suddenly blanched as everyone hooted in glee,

“Way to go, Ripper!” Alec cried out. He reached behind him as Buffy slapped his hand.

“The woman’s waiting for an answer, Rupert,” Buffy commented. Giles sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. He sighed and looked up at the pretty ex-Slayer.

“I’d certainly, I mean if it’s not a problem,” Giles sighed again and cleared his throat, taking off his glasses and regarding the woman calmly, “I’d enjoy that every much, Marlena. Thank you,” Marlena smiled and reached out to pat his face affectionately,

“See? That’s wasn’t so hard, was it?” she replied laughing gently. Everyone else was trying very hard not to burst into fits of laughter, some succeeding more than others. Alec, chuckling, put a hand on his father’s shoulder,

“It’s okay, Dad, tonight you date, tomorrow we do the research bit,” chuckling he got to his feet. Smiling he focused on his hand. It transformed into a metal hammer, “I hereby declare this meeting of the Scooby gang adjourned,” he grinned and tapped the hammer in the table, Judge Judy style; everyone laughed. Dawn and Willow smiled prettily at him, although there was definitely more than a hint of indulgence in their expressions. Alec chuckled and reformed his hand. Shaking out the pins and needles, he frowned and turned back to the cafeteria, “And I’m getting something to eat,” he added definitively. Buffy nodded,

“Amen,” she replied, hopping off the table she was sitting on. She grinned at Alec, “Do they serve Mexican?” she asked. Alec grinned,

“This place serves EVERY-thing,” he replied grinning, “Mexican, pizza,” he narrowed his eyes grinning, “Lasagna,” he added slyly. Buffy’s eyes widened,

“Okay, that was the clincher, bro,” she commented hurriedly.

“Everybody’s got their price,” he replied, following the quickly fleeing blond slayer. Faith got up to follow,

“I wonder if I can get a decent plate of fried shrimp,” Faith added thoughtfully. Alec turned and nodded,

“Golden batter and a never-ending supply of tarter sauce,” he informed her with a grin. Faith’s eyes widened,

“Yo B, wait up!” she cried out brushing past. Alec chuckled,

“The simple pleasures are indeed the best,” he nodded dryly. Willow patted him on the rump and wrapped herself around him,

“Come on, lover, fetch me a hot-fudge sundae, and we’ll talk about the simple pleasures in life later,” she whispered demurely, kissing his ear. Alec chuckled and tousled her hair affectionately. She blew him a kiss and took off after the slayers. Xander and the others filed out of the room, Marlena on Giles’ arm, he noted wryly. Dawn was the last to leave, Alec put a hand on her shoulder gently restraining.

“Hey,” he said gently, she turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah…Alec?” she asked eagerly. Alec held up his hand before her,

“This doesn’t change anything. I mean, I’m still me,” he looked at her hopefully, “You know that, right?” he asked cautiously. Dawn smiled and wordlessly reached over taking his hand in hers before gently nuzzling her face against his hand. Alec unclenched his hand and gently stroked her face. Dawn closed her eyes and sighed contently. Alec shook his head affectionately,

“I guess this means we’re cool?” he inquired gently. She opened her eyes, slowly and kissed his hand. Alec's eyes closed as a feeling of peace washed over him.

“Always,” she replied quietly. The moment hung tense in the air. The man of darkness and the girl of endless light gazed at each other, both of them trying to find the right words. Xander ran back in,

“Hey Dawn!” he yelled out. The pair sprang away like magnets pushing away from each other. Alec looked down and away from the young woman. Dawn cleared her throat, not noticing that she had been holding her breath,

“Yeah…yeah, Xander?” she asked shyly. He gestured behind him,

“They got great hotdogs, ball-park style,” he grinned. Dawn nodded hurriedly,

“Okay, be right there,” she turned as Xander fled back out the door for seconds. She opened her mouth to speak,

“I…” she struggled for words. Alec shook his head,

“It’s all right, Dawn, I know,” he frowned slightly, “Well, I THINK I know, anyhow,” he sighed and shook his head, smiling at the younger woman, “You and I have this connection, and I don’t know how it works or WHY it works,” he reached out and cradled her face in his, “But I know it’s there,” he whispered, “I know that it does work,” she nuzzled her face against his hand, “And I know that it's important,” he finished. Dawn turned her head to kiss his palm and nodded, tears of emotion in her eyes,

“It’s important to me too,” she replied quietly. He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her to the eatery.

“Giles’ got a date! Giles’ got a date!” Buffy was chanting at the top of her lungs as she danced around the blushing watcher. Alec was leaning against the wall to their chambers, smirking wryly and taking in the whole scene with great bemusement. Finally, he decided to intervene on his father’s behalf,

“Yo brat!” he called out. Buffy whirled around, still grinning like a lunatic.

“Yeah, big brother?” she asked cutely. Alec gestured with his thumb out the door,

“Scram, Dad’s got to get ready for his…” he cast a look at his father who was regarding him with grave concern, “…engagement,” he finished diplomatically. The older man sighed in relief and cleared his throat,

“Alec is quite right, Buffy, so if you wouldn’t mind…?” he gestured to the door. She grinned and bounded over to his kissing his cheek,

“Good luck, Giles, remember women like excitement and passion. Do NOT begin the evening with how your hobbies include cross-referencing,” she pointed a finger at his nose warningly. Alec stifled a chuckle as Giles sighed indulgently,

“Yes, thank you, Buffy, I’m sure your advice will prove quite useful,” There was enough sarcasm in the older man’s voice to fill a teacup. She grinned cheekily at him and bounded over to Alec. He leaned in closer as she gestured for him to come nearer.

“Faith’s starting a betting pool. Wager being how far Giles gets with Marlena, you in?” she whispered, cupping her hand over his ear. Alec snorted,

“Ah, youth,” he replied haughtily. She looked at him and pouted. Alec grinned and placed a hand over his sister's ear,

“Put me in for a ten spot that says he doesn’t make it back home tonight,” he replied grinning. She bobbed her head, flashed him a thumbs up and bounded out of the room. Giles sighed,

“Yes, well, with any luck the lot of them will be taking wagers on whether or not I’ll be sleeping in my own bed tonight,” he commented dryly. Alec did a pretty good job of not roaring with laughter,

“Oh, come now, father, what kind of immature children do you take the defenders of humanity to be?” he asked, deadpan. Giles just glared at his son. Alec chuckled and walked over to a large closet, opening it revealing a cornucopia of men’s clothing,

“Now, what to wear…?” he placed a finger to his lip thoughtfully.

After sending his father away attired in blue jeans, a white t-shirt, black sports coat and shoes, Alec wandered into the arcade; he peered in and grinned. Willow was by herself, playing skee-ball. Chuckling, Alec stealthily padded over to her. Willow picked up another ball and took aim,

“Give me that fifty-point pocket,” she whispered before letting the ball fly. The ball rolled up the ramp, took off and landed squarely into the fifty-point pocket.

“Yes!” she grinned, pumping her fist. She turned back to the ramp, and her squeal of glee quickly became a squawk of surprise as a shadowy hand emerged from the fifty-point pocket, hoisted the ball and tossed it back down the ramp.

“What the…?” the young woman commented. She spun around to encounter her grinning boyfriend.

“Alec!” she swatted him playfully. He shrugged,

“When you got it, flaunt it,” he offered as his only defense.

“Tampering with skee-ball is blasphemy of the highest order. Didn’t you see ‘Dogma’?” she frowned at him. Alec smirked,

“Yes, and if Alanis Morisette shows up, she can tell me that tampering with skee-ball is blasphemy, until such time…” he grinned and spread his hands. Willow grinned and tossed the ball away from her, wrapping her arms around him.

“Did Giles get all set up for his date?” she asked. Alec nodded,

“Looking very GQ,” he replied. She smiled wryly,

“Giles as GQ material? I don’t think my imagination can stretch that way,” Alec snorted wryly.

“I know he seems like Captain Tweed nine times out of ten, but every now and then…” he chuckled. “Well, Dad’s got a wild side,” Willow nodded.

“Sometimes a little too wild,” she smiled and tilted her chin to peer up into his dark eyes, “I’m glad I got the nice, boring Giles,” she teased. Alec’s eyes widened.

“Oh is that right?” he purred. She grinned, knowing she was in trouble.

“That’s RIIII-aie!” she squealed as he picked her bodily up off her feet and laid her flat atop the skee-ball ramp. She peered up at him, mock-quizzically.

“Okay, wise guy, and just what do you plan on doing?” she asked demurely. He grinned and reached behind him, producing a skee-ball. Without getting up from atop her, without even LOOKING, he rolled the ball up the ramp where it landed solidly into the fifty-point pocket. The little light began flashing the words HIGH SCORE. Alec grinned down at her,

“Take a guess,” he purred as he kissed her neck. She stretched out in lazy ecstasy underneath him.

“Got to hand it to you, Alec,” she whispered as he kissed her ear, “When you’re good, you’re GOOOOD,” the last word came out in a shudder of pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Wait till you see me bad,” he whispered huskily, his hands beginning to roam, “I’m even better,”

There were no sounds of arguments.

Sometime later, the disheveled pair found their friends in a large gymnasium. Willow just shook her head in amazement,

“This place has everything,” she commented. Alec nodded,

“It does look that way,” he replied, nodding. There were several large pads set up on the floor and there was what looked like some kind of boxing tournament going on.

“Check out the action,” Alec commented, sitting down on the floor next to Xander and watching Spike and Faith circling each other, trading blows. Alec leaned over to Xander,

“What’s the deal?” he asked. Xander pointed,

“We’re having a contest to see who’s the toughest Scooby,” he counted off his fingers, “So far the running is Buffy, Faith, Spike and Angel,” Alec looked at him surprised,

“You’re not getting involved?” he asked in polite surprise. The younger man shook his head emphatically.

“It’s weird, I got this thing about having my skeleton destroyed,” he replied wryly. Anya was snuggled up against him; she peered over at Alec frowning,

“Yeah, besides, I don’t want him to get hurt; he’s fragile and tends to bruise easily,” she commented. Xander sighed and placed a hand over his eyes,

“Thank you for that fresh infusion of humiliation, Ahn. I needed that,” Anya smiled and patted his arm.

“You’re welcome,” she replied perkily, completely missing the sarcasm. Alec frowned as Spike landed a pretty impressive kick to the side of Faith’s head,

“Hold up a second,” he gestured to the blond vampire, “Shouldn’t he be suffering a massive Excedrin headache right about now?” Xander shook his head,

“Nope, apparently his chip doesn’t kick in unless there’s intent to kill,” Suddenly Spike’s head was snapped around hard as Faith backhanded him. Spike’s face changed and with a roar, he charged the slayer, only to yowl in pain; both hands to his head,

“Like now?” Alec asked.

“Uh-yup,” Xander replied. Faith casually swept his feet out from under him and imitated a staking.

“That’s time, Blondie. You’re dust,” she peered down grinning. Spike sighed, his head hitting the mat, his face changing.

“Bloody chip,” he snarled. Faith got to her feet and offered her hand. Spike frowned wryly but took her hand as she helped him up. Faith chuckled and turned to the crowd, her eyes widened as she discovered Alec.

“Hey, D! Get in here!” she called out. Alec shook his head,

“No thanks, I only gamble with my life, not my pride,” he chuckled. There were jeers from the crowd. Faith grinned,

“Come on, D, this is just for fun,” she pleaded. Alec looked around…and with a sigh got to his feet. Everyone cheered for the martial artist. Stripping off his coat and t-shirt and kicking off his shoes, he padded over the waiting Faith. She eyed his well-defined form admiringly.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” she bit her tongue in pleasure. Alec sighed indulgently. Faith looked back up at his face.

“Okay, no powers, and no spikes please, I don’t want to get skewered or something,” she warned. Alec nodded,

“Not a problem,” he replied evenly, settling into a fighting stance. Faith grinned and readied her hands,

“And D? Don’t hold back, okay?” she asked wryly. Alec only nodded and with a grunt, Faith attacked.

She came in high with a roundhouse kick, but she telegraphed the move. Alec ducked and sent an open palm strike to her solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her and sending her stumbling back. Gingerly rubbing her stomach, she grinned at him.

“Ooh yeah, this is going to be better than sex,” she purred. Alec just winked as Willow debated whether or not to correct the scarred Slayer. Faith spun around with a spinning backhand; Alec blocked and sent a double hand strike to her torso, knocking her back. The only way he was going to beat a Slayer was to keep his distance and to wear her down. Faith chuckled and spun around delivering another kick; Alec dodged, but was unprepared for the fist that followed, catching him across the jaw and sending his head rocking back. There were exclamations from the crowd as Alec rubbed his jaw and grinned,

“Enjoy it, Faith, you’re not going to land another,” he promised. Faith just grinned back at him and attacked; this time Alec was prepared, leaning back with the attack, he flipped backwards and sent his feet careening into Faith's chin, knocking her back hard. He completed the flip and whipped around with a devastating roundhouse kick; the blow connected to Faith’s head and sent her spinning to the mat.

“Go, Alec!” Willow chanted.

“Come on, Faith!” Angel yelled out. Buffy just smirked watching the pair. Faith was stronger, but Alec was far better trained and faster than the girl. Faith spun around, Alec was doing the honorable thing and letting her collect herself before attacking again. This was, after all, just for fun. Faith smiled slightly; she knew he was cutting her a break and despite herself she appreciated it. Getting to her feet, she grinned,

“Damn, D, that was smooth,” she complimented. He nodded humbly. Faith chuckled and came at him again, this time doing her best to close the distance between them where his acrobatics would be useless. Alec wasn’t having any of it; rather than trying to stand still and slug it out with a slayer, he danced around, bobbing and weaving, letting her exert all her energy hitting air.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!” Xander yelled out. Dawn was taking all this in with obvious admiration. Alec really WAS beautiful when he fought, he made it all look like a dance. Finally Faith got frustrated and launched a right hook that was far too wide; Alec grinned and rather than pulling away, he closed the distance between them, hitting her with two quick strikes to the face, leaving her dazed. Placing both his hands on her shoulders and with a bound, he pushed off the ground and did a handstand on top of the completely bewildered slayer. Careful not to jerk her neck around too hard the wrong way, he pivoted and brought his whole body slamming hard down into her lower back. His knees found the backs of her knees, causing her to fold in on herself. She yelled out in surprise as he quickly folded her up into an unbreakable body lock/head lock. She struggled for a few minutes, then sighed and tapped out. Alec quickly released her and helped her to her feet. She groaned, rubbing her back,

“Okay, D, you got me,” she admitted grinning. She shook her head in amazement, “That was wild. How did you do that?” she asked. Alec shrugged,

“I picked it up a while ago, usually the twist at the top is done a lot harder and the whole thing is done faster, but…” he shrugged and Faith got the point.

“I see, well thanks for not snapping my neck,” she grinned.

“Thanks for not breaking my face,” he replied courteously. She grinned and patted his face,

“Damage THIS face? Never!” she grinned and blew him a kiss. He rolled his eyes as she limped away, massaging her sore back. Alec turned to the crowd who was applauding both his performance and his sportsmanship. He held up his hands humbly,

“Not a big deal, Can I go now?” he asked wryly.

“No,” a voice called out. Someone new entered the ring. Alec sighed,

“Oh boy, now I’m in trouble,” Buffy grinned as she settled into a fighting stance.

“Afraid so,” she replied grinning. Alec readied his hands; his sister was a lot better trained and disciplined than Faith was. After all, Alec himself had taught her a few moves. This was not going to be easy.

Buffy knew her brother preferred to let the opponent make the first move. He’d always taught her that by that first strike, you could learn everything you needed to know about beating the other guy. She smiled slightly and rather than leading out with her right fist, which she was prone to do and no doubt he’d be expecting, she back pivoted and came around with her left.

Alec however, knew his sister well and was expecting the change of tactics; a hand was already out to intercept the blow. He caught her hand and jerked it towards him, snapping out two quick kicks to her solar plexus in rapid succession. He was working on a third when Buffy caught his foot and heaved sending him flying backwards; he rolled with it and landed easily and lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Alec scores the first point!” Xander yelled.

“And his last,” Buffy added, not unfriendly. Alec winked and shifted tactics, changing from his preferred style of Wushu to Muy Thai. Coming in with elbows and knees, he launched into a complicated attack sequence. Buffy blocked the blows, but in doing so weakened herself. Alec suddenly switched out of Muy Thai and snatched both her arms in his, pulling her down and falling down onto his back, he planted a foot to her stomach and sent her flying away. She hit the ground and rolled, getting to her feet smoothly.

“Nice toss,” she commented.

“Nice recovery,” he replied evenly. Spike snorted,

“If the two siblings are done stroking each other egos perhaps we can get back to the violence?” he yelled. The pair grinned at each other,

“Well, you know the first rule of showbiz,” Buffy began advancing on her older brother.

“Give the people what they want,” Alec finished meeting her advance. Buffy snapped out her trademark roundhouse kick. Alec had seen it a million times before and ducked, bringing a hand up against her jaw. Unfortunately for him, he’d overextended the blow, causing Buffy’s head to snap back out of range for his follow-up strike. She recovered quickly and, catching his arm, lashed out with two strong blows to his chest. Alec grunted, but was still grinning as he blocked the third blow and, bringing his knee up hard, unfolded his leg and caught Buffy in a kick that gave him some distance from the slayer. He was now regarding his sister with a great deal more wariness. He couldn’t play the defensive tactic and win, like he had with Faith; he had to press the offensive and that meant getting close.

Swinging his legs around in a spinning cartwheel, he landed before Buffy and whipped out a roundhouse kick; the blow connected and Buffy rocked backwards. Alec followed it up with three strikes to her chest and waist, being very careful not to hit her wounds. Buffy did a split and lashed out with a jab, catching him in the stomach; she wasn’t about to hit her own brother below the belt so to speak. Alec fell back a little and Buffy did a handspring, spinning her legs around and catching Alec across the face with both feet. He rocked backwards and almost fell before righting himself.

“Come on, Alec!” Dawn yelled out. Alec straightened and regarded Buffy calmly; his eyes clear, his face neutral. Buffy saw the look and tensed; Alec was through playing, he wasn’t going to hurt her, but he was going to fight to win. Buffy came at him with three blows one right after the other. Alec blocked them all and thrust a palm to her chest, knocking her back. Before she could react, he did a slide kick and nailed her square in the chest, knocking the wind from her. Buffy groaned a little, that kick had had a lot of oomph behind it. She made sure Alec didn’t look angry; if that were the case she’d have called it all off. But his face remained calm and composed, merely determined. Inwardly she smiled; she really didn’t give her brother enough credit.

Alec lashed out with a spinning back-fist; Buffy caught it and hit him several times in the floating ribs. Alec grunted and, reversing his grip, snatched her arm. Using her body for leverage, he jerked his legs up in a switchblade kick, catching her under the chin hard. She swooned and fell back. He landed and pressed the attack, spinning himself like a tornado and lashed out with feet and fists; Buffy fell back against the onslaught. Finally he finished by doing a full-split and lashing out with a fist to her stomach. The blow connected and Buffy folded over. Rolling onto his back, he snaked out with his legs, wrapping them around the Slayer's neck; pushing up with his hands, he did a handstand, hoisting her in the air before slamming Buffy down onto the mat hard. He released his grip on her neck and rolled away. Buffy cautiously got to her feet, rubbing her neck and trying to clear the stars from her vision.

“That was new,” she commented dryly. Alec just nodded and Buffy attacked. Blow after blow, block and counter-block, the sound of feet and fists connecting was almost deafening. The pair sprang away form each other, Buffy’s blue eyes shining with determination, Alec’s dark eyes blazing with intensity. Leaping at each other, they flew and collided in mid air, Buffy with a blow to his jaw, and Alec snapping a high kick to her stomach. They landed in a heap and rolled away from each other, both panting slightly. Alec got his wind back first and with a running leap, back-flipped towards the slayer, did a handspring, and managed to land behind her. She turned just in time to get a fist in the face as Alec began an onslaught of blows, raining them upon her head. He finished by leaping high into the air and pivoting his whole body, she looked up just as he plowed into her like a rocket headfirst. Slamming her head down onto the mat, Alec pushed off her prone body and leaped away.

Buffy growled and sprang to her feet. Alec was already charging, but Buffy lashed out with a kick to his knees, sending him stumbling forward; with a grunt Buffy shot her fist out and caught her older brother across the face. He groaned and fell back as Buffy snapped out three fast kicks to his head before knocking his feet out from under him. He fell hard and rolled away just in time to miss an axe kick. He sprang to his feet and whirled around and leaping into the air, soared over Buffy’s head, he tucked his body into a ball and rotated, catching his feet against the wall; he pushed off hard and slammed into Buffy with the force of a freight train. She fell to the ground hard as he rolled away.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough…” Xander began, starting to look more than a little worried at the punishment the pair were doling out to each other. The siblings ignored him and with twin roars of defiance charged each other, meeting in a blur of feet and fists. The exchange was too quick to follow with the eye. Finally tangling their arms in one another, Slayer and Weapon slammed their heads into each other. There were groans from the audience as both Alec and Buffy fell to the mat. Xander gaped,

“Whoa, Double K.O.” he turned and shrugged apologetically to the audience, who had been regarding the intense fight with awe. Buffy and Alec both struggled to their feet, neither particularly steadily and turned to each other.

“Draw?” Buffy asked.

“Draw,” Alec replied, smiling slightly. Stumbling over to each other, they hugged tightly as everyone cheered. Buffy pushed away to regard her brother in amazement,

“Where did you learn all that flying stuff?” she asked. Alec grinned,

“It’s a combination of ninjitsu and Spanish matador maneuvers,” he shrugged, “Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Buffy chuckled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders,

“That it was,” Alec turned to her and gingerly rubbed his jaw,

“What about you, sis? You hit like a ton of bricks,” he commented dryly. Buffy grinned and held up her hand,

“And I didn’t even crack a nail,” she quipped. Alec laughed and tousled her hair as the rest of the gang came up to the fighters.

“That was…” Xander began.

“Really cool,” Dawn finished beaming at Alec, who smiled warmly at her.

“To think, all this time I’ve been wasting playing ‘Mortal Kombat,” Spike commented wryly. Buffy chuckled as Spike wrapped an arm around her. It was only through Alec’s and Buffy’s expertise and discipline that neither of them was seriously injured. Willow wrapped an arm around her man as Dawn handed him a towel.

“Thanks, petite,” he flashed her his ‘melt your insides’ smile. She blushed and scampered off. Alec chuckled and mopped his forehead,

“Wow,” Willow whispered awestruck. Alec turned to her frowning,

“What? You’ve seen me fight,” he commented puzzled. She shook her head,

“Not like that, with the ‘whoosh’ and the flipping and the jumping,” she grinned like a kid at Christmas, “My boyfriend’s Darth Maul,” she chuckled as Alec kissed her forehead.

“Your boyfriend needs a shower,” he replied wryly. Willow pouted demurely,

“Can I come?” she asked, her lower lip jutted out suggestively. Alec laughed and kissed her face,

“Thanks, but I’ve endured one beating today, no need for two,” he grinned teasingly. She swatted at him as he chuckled and headed back to follow the others, his hand in hers.

A few hours later, Alec padded into the poolroom, not surprised to see Buffy soaking in the hot tub. She smiled up at him,

“Hey bro,” she grinned. Alec waved a little and gently sank into the hot water opposite her,

“Ah…ah…ahhhhhhh,” he sighed in pleasure, sinking almost to his chin in the foamy water. Buffy laughed,

“Yeah, me too,” she chuckled and patted his shoulder. He had his eyes closed and had draped a black washcloth over his face as the water massaged his aching muscles.

“We must protect the world for the sake of Jacuzzis” he commented, muffled from the cloth. Buffy nodded,

“It is our sacred duty,” she replied wryly. There was a silence,

“Alec?”

“Hmmm?”

“How come you and I…you know, never got together?”
(Continued in Chapter 3 - Action Part 2)

There was a longer silence as Alec slowly picked up one corner of the cloth to peer at Buffy who was looking right at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not insinuating anything,” she added hurriedly, “I was honestly just curious,” Taking her words at face value, Alec considered,

“Well, if I had to pick any one reason, I think it would be that I couldn’t fight alongside someone I was involved with,” he replied after a long pause. Buffy frowned,

“But you and Willow…” Alec shook his head.

“Willow usually hangs back or stays out of the fighting completely, I try to make sure of that. You and I are on the front lines,” he shook his head, “I couldn’t fight if I was worried about you,”

“And you’re not worried about me as my brother?” she asked petulantly. Alec shrugged,

“My logic outweighs my emotions on that one; I know you can take care of yourself,”
“And if we were involved?” Alec snorted.

“Goodbye logic, Hello massive overprotective instinct,” he replied wryly, draping the cloth over his face. Buffy considered that,

“So you’re saying that you wouldn’t date anyone that you fought beside, because your protective instinct would overrule your brain?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied. There was another long pause as Alec peeked out of the cloth, “Incidentally, why do you ask?” Buffy sighed and looked down.

“I’m thinking about ending things with Spike,” she replied quietly. If she was expecting massive surprise she was sorely disappointed.

“Angel?” he asked simply.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Alec sighed and took the cloth off his face, lifting his head off the rim of the hot tub.

“Spill, sis,” he implored gently. Buffy took a deep breath,

“I think I may still love Angel, and I can’t be with Spike if I do. Plus I keep finding myself worrying about Spike and that chip in his head, wondering if some night I’m going to get into a fight that he can’t help me with. I don’t want him to have to endure that feeling of helplessness,” she looked up at Alec, who was regarding her thoughtfully.

“I’m listening,” he replied quietly.

“I don’t know what I need right now, or who I need to be with,” Buffy sighed and looked very unhappy, “I don’t know anything,” Alec wordlessly sloshed over to his sister and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do, Alec, I’m so confused,” she whispered. Alec snorted.

“Join the bloody club,” he commented dryly. Stroking his sister’s wet hair he gently placed a reassuring kiss on her head.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised her. Buffy clung to him desperately.

“Is it wrong to love two people?” she asked. Alec snorted in self-derision,

“Don’t I wish I knew the answer to that one,” Buffy looked up at him.

“What do you mean?” she inquired suddenly. Alec realizing his blunder, shifted around his tactics,

“Well, if I knew the answer to that, there would be a lot of people I could advise,” he replied smoothly. Buffy sighed and leaned against him,

“I suppose,” she mumbled. Smiling slightly, she gave her brother a tight squeeze, “Just don’t you get all weird on me, I need someone I know I can count on,” Alec smiled and returned the hug.

“No worries, luv. I am Mister Reliable,” he commented sardonically. Buffy snorted,

“I KNOW I’ve heard that one before,” she laughed. Alec chuckled and frowned,

“Out of curiosity, how did this conversation begin with you asking me why we didn’t date?” he asked puzzled. Buffy laughed quietly,

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she responded. Alec snorted wryly,

“I KNOW I’ve heard that one before,” Alec repeated her words. She laughed and splashed him.

“Oh you did NOT!” Alec cried and splashed her back. Before long the pair was engaged in a truly vicious splashing match.

Competitive to the end.

Alec was in his bedchambers a little while later. It was late; most everyone had either gone to sleep or otherwise retired for the evening. He was strumming his dad’s guitar aimlessly. With a start, he checked his watch; then grinned.

Looks like I win the pool. He thought dryly. There was a knock on the door.

“Come,” Alec called out. The door opened and Xander stepped through it,

“Hey, man,” he commented. Alec frowned, puzzled. What could Xander want at this hour?

“Hey,” he replied cautiously, setting the guitar down next to him, “What’s up?” Xander exhaled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied. Alec smirked slightly,

“Does Anya have anything to do with this sudden bout of insomnia?” he asked wryly. Xander chuckled,

“Nope, her highnessness is sleeping quietly,” Alecs’ smirk grew,

“Oh, so she DOES sleep,” he commented dryly. Xander laughed,

“Yeah, Thank God for that,” he replied evenly. Alec chuckled and then grew serious,

“So what brings you to my door?” he asked. Xander sighed,

“What happened down there? In the Deadlands?” he asked point-blank. Alec frowned,

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I lost my best friend down there and the thought is giving me a wiggins,” he answered. Alec sighed and nodded, it was a valid reason.

“Well, we got ambushed by a horde of zombies,” he began, “Willow and I were surrounded, they threatened to kill Angel and Buffy so we had to surrender. Then they took us into different rooms, mummified us and buried us,” he shrugged, “For some reason, I was able to go without oxygen longer than Willow was. When Buffy dug me out I was still conscious. Willow had…” he swallowed painfully at the memory,

“Died?” Xander finished. Alec nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. Xander shuddered slightly.

“Must have been pretty awful, man,” Alec nodded.

“Worst feeling in the world,” he replied. Xander nodded.

“You really love her, don’t you?” he asked. Alec frowned at the younger man; there was something in his tone he didn’t like.

“Of course I do, have I somehow left that in doubt?” he asked, sounding mildly defensive. Xander shook his head,

“No, man, it’s cool; just…treat her right, okay?” Alec’s eyes narrowed slightly and he slowly got to his feet. Xander caught the look, “I’m not saying you’re not, Alec, relax. I’m just looking out for her, you know?”

“So am I,” Alec growled. Xander nodded his head emphatically.

“I know, but there’s this weird thing going on between you and Dawn and no one’s sure what to make of it,” he replied. Alec’s narrowed eyes narrowed a little more.

“Are you insinuating something, Xander?” he asked his voice soft and dangerous. Xander shook his head.

“No, I’m not. I just…I know what it’s like when your heart is torn in two directions, and Willow deserves better than that,” Alec had slowly been advancing on Xander, now he was within arms reach of the younger man. Xander began to back away, a little pale.

“Understand this, Xander,” he growled. Xander’s back was hit the wall and he panicked slightly when he realized he was cornered, “My heart truly and completely belongs to Willow, and any man that questions the validity of that love, questions my integrity and honor,” he got closer to Xander, “Are you questioning that, Xander?” he asked his voice gone from scary to downright lethal. Xander blanched and shook his head,

“No, man,” he tried to smile “I mean, hey, your word is good enough for me,” he replied hurriedly. “I just think-”

“Get out,” Alec bit out.

“Gone,” Xander replied without missing a beat. He turned and left the room. Alec sighed and looked down at his arm, already blades were beginning to emerge from the skin. Exhaling hard, he allowed the rage to drain out of him. The blades vanished; as he padded back to the bed and picked up the guitar. He was still too angry though. I need some exercise, he decided and he growled getting to his feet and jerked the door open with a snarl. Willow jumped back in alarm,

“Yikes!” she cried out. Alec tripped over his own feet, so quickly had he put the brakes on his angry stride. He grunted as he landed against the wall,

“Willow!” he whispered in surprise. Willow nodded

“Yes, that is me, Willow is who I am,” she replied, “You okay?” Alec nodded and ran a hand through his hair,

“Yeah it’s just…”

“Xander?” she asked. Alec’s eyes widened,

“How did you…?”

“I saw him leaving your room white as a sheet,” she smiled slightly, “I figured he managed to get on your bad side and since that’s not an easy thing to do when, you know, someone’s not trying to kill you, I figured I better check up on you,” Alec nodded and growled under his breath. Willow sighed,

“Oh boy, what did the great palooka say now?” she asked. Alec sighed,

“He questioned my devotion to you,” he replied. Willow’s eyes widened then narrowed,

“Did he? Well, I think I should march right down to his bedroom and discuss the merits of minding his own damn business,” she snarled. Alec’s eyes widened; she was PISSED! He put a hand on her shoulder,

“He’s got a good reason. He says…that there’s this bond between…Dawn and me,” he confessed looking away. Willow rolled her eyes,

“Well duh!” she exclaimed, exhaling hard and blowing a lock of hair from your eyes, “The two of you have a lot of love for each other, it’s obvious!” Alec’s face whipped around to face her so hard she thought she heard his neck crack. His face had drained of all its color and he looked positively stricken. Willow took his hand in hers,

“Alec, you’ve never, not for one second since the day I met you, made me feel anything less than totally and completely loved,” she smiled teasingly, “I mean you and Dawn haven’t…you know?” Alec’s face slid right into outraged indignation,

“Of course not!” he cried. Willow laughed at his vehemence,

“I know, Silly, I was just giving you grief,” she smiled and patted his face, “The point is, is that you are that girl's whole world. And whether you like it or not, she’s a pretty big part of yours.” Alec scowled,

“And you don’t think this constitutes me betraying you?” he bit out, his voice saturated with self-loathing. Willow’s eyes widened in understanding,

“Is THAT what all this has been about? Is that why whenever Dawn and I are together you walk on eggshells?” she asked incredulously. Alec just nodded. Willow’s heart broke at the sight and at the thought of what the young man had been putting himself through.

“Ooooh….” She cooed, reaching out she rested his head on her shoulder, stroking his hair, “No wonder you’ve been such a wreck lately. Feeling all angsty and broody,” Alec slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered brokenly. Willow shushed him gently,

“It’s okay, Alec. You and Dawn are you and Dawn. That, in no way, has anything to do with you and me,” she sighed and stroked his hair, “You’ve really been putting yourself through the wringer about this, haven’t you?” she asked gently. Alec nodded and Willow sighed in sympathy, remembering how awful she felt when she’d cheated on Oz with Xander. They’d kissed and she felt terrible about it. From what Alec had told her, he hadn’t so much as even begun to make a move on the younger girl and he was STILL torturing himself.

“I know that you and her are tight, and I’m glad,” she smiled, “If Dawny is as important to the world as everyone says, she needs someone to look out for her and I can’t think of anyone better for the job,” She gently took his face in her hands,

“Alec, when I died, I could sense your pain. It was like…an atom bomb,” she shook her head, “There’s no WAY that much pain could have come out unless what you and I had was genuine,” she kissed his forehead as he closed his eyes wearily. “And that’s good enough for me,” she finished. Alec sighed and nuzzled her face gently; Willow smiled and stroked his hair. “The point is: that if you really love someone, then you feel safe and secure in that knowledge,” she peered into his face intently, “And you listen to me right now, Alec Giles,” his eyes opened slowly, “I really, really love you,” she whispered fiercely. Alec just nodded and held her,

“I love you too, Willow,” he whispered back fiercely. Willow nodded,

“And don’t think for one moment that I don’t know that,” she replied her voice thick with emotion. They held each other a while longer, then parted.

“What about Dawn?” Alec asked worriedly. Willow smiled and patted his face affectionately.

“Buffy had Angel doing the ‘cryptic protect-o’ guy routine. I think Dawn could use the same,” she leveled a finger at him warningly, “But no smacky-mouth activity, all right?” she teased, “Love her from afar,” Alec snorted and rolled his eyes,

“Thank you, but I did read ‘Lolita’ and I wasn’t very happy with the outcome,” he replied wryly as the tension drained out of his face. Willow giggled,

“Good, because I’d have to turn you into a newt,” she made a face, “Plus there’s the whole you being a hundred plus years older than her thing and that’s just icky,” she stuck out her tongue as Alec regarded her wryly,

“I’m a couple of decades older than YOU too, princess,” he replied wryly. Willow smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck,

“That’s okay,” she leaned down to kiss his neck, he made a rumbling sound of contentment, “I like older men anyhow,” she finished laughing. Gently she pushed him onto the bed and pounced on him.

The rest of Alec’s doubts and fears quickly fled.

“‘In the white room, with black curtains in the station’,” a voice sang out from the hallway. Alec opened his eyes groggily and peered over at the clock, it was seven in the morning.

“What is that?” a weary voice called out from next to him. He turned to look at the drowsy redhead next to him.

“Cream,” he replied wryly. Gently he eased the girl from his shoulder and sat up in bed. She wrapped the sheet around her tightly as the voice got closer.

“In the white room…” the voice cried out again. Alec hurriedly tugged on a pair of black sweat pants just as the door burst open revealing…

“Dad?” Alec asked incredulously. Willow ‘eek’-ed and dove under the blankets. Giles was in a serious state of dishevelment, carrying his shoes, t-shirt untucked and his jacket casually tossed over his shoulder. His singing abruptly stopped as he jumped back.

“Good lord, Alec,” he exhaled hard, “I thought you were going to be with Willow,” he breathed, his face turning red. Alec rubbed a hand over the back of his neck,

“Actually…” he began. Giles peered past him and his eyes widened as a slim hand came out from the blankets to wave at him.

“Hi Giles,” Willow’s voice came out muffled from the blankets. Giles coughed and averted his eyes,

“Yes, hello, Willow,” he replied hurriedly. Alec grinned,

“Dad, do you know what time it is?” he began. Giles was turning an ever-deepening shade of crimson,

“Yes, well, I have an explanation for that,” he began.

“And that you were singing ‘White Room’ at the top of your lungs?” Alec added. Giles looked ready to die.

“Yes, well if you’ll just let me explain…” Alec cut him off.

“I have an explanation,” he grinned, Giles blanched,

“Alec, surely you can’t believe that I would have done anything inappropriate,” he stuttered. Alec waved it away,

“Oh, I know,” he reassured the older man. Giles sighed in relief, “Ripper,” he finished grinning. There was a gale of laughter from under the sheets as Giles stammered out some sort of retort. Alec snorted and handed Willow’s jeans and underclothes to her under the sheet. She took them and began bustling about. Alec turned back to his father,

“I’m glad you had a good night, Dad,” he chuckled shaking his head. Giles finally regained control over his speech functions,

“Yes, well, don’t forget we have a lot of work to do today,” he admonished his son. Alec nodded,

“Oh don’t worry, I’m all about the pursuit of knowledge,” he replied evenly. There was a snort of derision from under the blankets.

“Sure, he’s all about pursuit,” Willow commented, peeking her head out from the blankets. “Hey, shirtless wonder! Think you can give a girl her bra please?” she batted his eyes at him. Alec snorted and picked up the garment, examining it.

“Hmm, looks like I have managed to remember your measurements accurately,” he commented wryly. Willow growled at him and snapped her hand out, snatching the garment from him and diving back under the blankets. Giles gestured to the squirming lump under the blankets,

“It would appear that I am not alone in my…’good nights',” he scowled at his son who waved him off.

“Yeah, but you’re the respectable one, remember? The role model?” There were twin snorts of derision from Giles and Willow as Willow snaked her hand out and snatched up her t-shirt from the floor. She finished dressing and finally came out from the blankets, her hair a complete mess. She put a hand to her head,

“Oh, not good,” she commented in her “I’m so very cute” voice. Alec smiled and patted her on the rump as she headed towards the bathroom. She shot him a challenging look over her shoulder as she headed haughtily into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

A few minutes later Alec was in the library, his hand stretched out as people placed money into his hand, those that had bet on Giles and lost.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he smiled and nodded courteously to each one of the Scoobies as they rolled their eyes at his slight smugness. Faith was the last to place a wad of money in his hand,

“It figures, like father, like son,” she commented. Alec snorted and tousled her hair,

“Something like that, Faith,” he frowned, “How’s your back?” he asked. She smiled and stretched

“I actually think you may have gotten rid of a crick I’ve had in my back for ages,” she grinned and winked at him, “Better than a chiropractor,” she joked. Alec smiled wryly,

“Therapeutic beatings for everyone,” he assured her. She laughed and headed off as he shook his head chuckling, pocketing the money. He strode over to the table, upon which was a vast pile of books circled by Willow, Dawn, Giles and Marlena. The latter two were glowing, sending each other secret looks. Alec had to visibly struggle not to make a comment. He pulled out an empty chair next to Willow, who looked up at him and shook her head. Alec frowned in puzzlement as Willow gestured to the seat beside herself and Dawn. Alec smiled gratefully and pulled back the chair. Dawn looked up at him and beamed happily. He smiled, and with a newfound confidence reached out and gently chucked her chin affectionately. She giggled prettily as Willow rolled her eyes. Alec sat down between the two; Willow leaned over as he picked up a book and began reading.

“Charmer,” she whispered. He didn’t look up at her, only smiled. She kissed his face before going back to her book. Giles took off his glasses and pointed at a passage in a book,

“Ah,” he declared, gesturing for attention, “I think I may have found something,” everyone looked up.

“What have you found, Rupert?” Marlena walked over to him, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder. Giles smiled slightly; Alec, Dawn and Willow sent each other knowing looks.

“Well, in the Kabbalah, the word for truth, in Hebrew anyhow, is ‘Emet,” Alec shot Willow a look,

“The four-letter word for ‘truth” he breathed remembering Oliver’s cryptic question. Willow nodded,

“That would make ‘Met’ the word for ‘death?” she asked. Giles nodded,

“Well, actually Met means ‘dead,’ but yes that’s accurate,” Alec frowned,

“Okay, so riddle number one unlocked,” he shook his head, “What does that have to do with the Wordless Psalm?” he asked. Giles shook his head,

“I’m really not sure, Alec,” he looked up at Marlena. “Marlena, you said you know of an establishment where we could obtain some more information?” Marlena nodded,

“Yes, Rupert, in Greenwich Village, to be more precise,” she smiled at him, “I’ll make sure you get the address,” she promised him. He smiled gratefully,

“Thank you. T-thank you, Marlena,” he stuttered a little, garnering a chuckle from Alec. Giles shot his son a dirty look, who just winked and went back to his book. Willow spoke up,

“So that’s it then? We head back to the city,” Dawn nodded,

“Yeah, I mean, that sounds like what we have to do,” she colored a little, Dawn was still getting used to having a say in things, “I suppose,” she mumbled. Willow reached behind Alec to stroke her hair affectionately,

“You’re absolutely right, Dawny,” she smiled at younger girl. Dawn grinned back at the witch as Alec just shook his head in amazement. Willow never failed to surprise him. Her compassion and understanding were limitless.

Giles cleared his throat, “Yes, well, time is of the essence,” Willow and the others got to their feet,

“I’ll get Xander,” she told him. Alec pulled on his coat,

“I’ll round up the others,” he added. Dawn got her backpack

“I’ll uh…help him…round up the others, that is,” she mumbled. Alec and Willow shot each other wry looks before Alec tousled Dawn’s hair affectionately.

“Thanks, petite, I could use the help,” he lied. She smiled a look of pure sunshine at him. Chuckling quietly, the three filed out of the room to attend to their appointed tasks.

An hour later, everyone was on the bus. Giles and Marlena were saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to the city,” Giles promised. Marlena cracked a wry grin,

“They always promise to call,” she teased. Giles opened his mouth to protest and the woman placed a hand over it.

“It’s all right, Rupert, I know you’ll call,” smiling she leaned in and kissed him. After a while they parted. Marlena focused on something beyond Giles’ shoulder and chuckled. Giles turned to see the faces of everyone on the bus pressed up against the glass, watching them intently. Giles scowled at them, Alec smirked and made a few comments, reluctantly the group dispersed, not before flashing him smiles or thumbs-ups. Giles rolled his eyes and blushed slightly, taking off his glasses before looking back at Marlena,

“Last night was…very special,” he whispered, his voice full of meaning. Marlena nodded,

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she asked. Giles’ eyes widened,

“What do you mean?” he asked. Marlena threw her head back and laughed,

“Not like that, Rupert. I mean it’s been a while since you’ve been close to someone,” Giles was still blushing but he nodded. Marlena smiled and touched his cheek,

“Then I’m honored,” she replied. Giles cleared his throat and replacing his glasses on his face, took her hand and kissed it. She smiled slightly as he gave her hand a squeeze. He smiled awkwardly,

“Y-yes, well, do take care of yourself,” he stuttered. Marlena nodded,

“You too Rupert,” she replied. Flashing another bashful smile, Rupert climbed up the stairs leading into the camper. Everyone was regarding him with wry looks. He sighed and scowled at them,

“Oh, push off!” he growled. There was a round of laughter as Xander dropped himself into the driver's seat and started the engine. Giles sat down next to his smirking son,

“I say, well done, old man,” Alec commented wryly. Giles shot him an admonishing look before the bus pulled away. Marlena held her hand up in farewell, Giles turned just in time to see it. He smiled and waved back and kept watching her until the bus turned a corner and she disappeared from sight.

“Well, well, looks like our escort has arrived,” Alec commented wryly pointing out the window. Dawn turned to look from her seat next to him. There were several figures standing or reclining on picnic tables in the motor park. One of them was very familiar looking. The RV pulled into its space in the park at Greenwich and stopped. Buffy got off first and was gathered in a crushing hug.

“Welcome back, mighty Slayer!” DeGanon boomed as the other gypsies cheered. Buffy looked a little embarrassed, but was getting used to the gypsy chieftains’ exuberant style of greeting. The pair made way as everyone else filed off the bus, amidst cheers and warm welcomes. Alec grinned and slapped the gypsy’s back as the older man gathered him in a comradely embrace.

“Ah, the dark general. Is life well?” he asked. Alec nodded,

“About as well as can be expected,” he replied wryly. The pair began walking towards the far end of the park; the rest of the group was following.

“My kumpania has had time to secure transportation for you while you are in the city. I truly hope you will find it satisfactory.” DeGanon led him to a large tarp and gestured to a pair of gypsies. With a flourish the man removed the canvas and Alec inhaled sharply,

“Oh…this’ll do,” he commented dryly. The rest of the group caught a look and there were various exclamations of surprise.

A pair of gleaming motorcycles, all black leather and polished chrome were resting against a picnic table.

“Bloody Hell,” Spike swore fervently before laughing out loud, “I don’t believe it!” he ran his hands over one of the bikes handlebars, “These are gorgeous,” he suddenly looked up at DeGanon,

“American?” he asked suspiciously.

“But, of course,” DeGanon replied grinning. Spike nodded.

“Yeah, good man,” Spike went back to studying the bikes. A black van pulled up next to them. DeGanon turned and said something in Romani; the engine was shut off and a gypsy got out of the car, tossing him the keys. DeGanon caught them and handed the keys to Giles.

“The van and the bikes are at your disposal. The van has already been converted for safe daylight passage,” he informed Giles with a meaningful glace at Angel, who was taking in the whole scene quietly. Giles nodded,

“That’s extraordinarily gracious of you,” he replied. DeGanon waved it away,

“We are family now. There is nothing too good for family,”

“Ummm…out of curiosity,” Willow began, “Just where did you get all this?” she asked carefully. DeGanon nodded,

“I understand your concern, little witch, but have no fear. Both the bikes and the car were found abandoned,” Alec smiled slightly.

“Really?” he drawled out lazily, not believing a word. DeGanon nodded,

“Most assuredly,” he began to grin, “The bikes were carelessly left in front of a bar and the car was casually abandoned in a car dealership lot,” Alec laughed.

“Well, it’d be a shame to let such fine vehicles go to waste,” he commented. DeGanon nodded,

“Exactly what we were thinking,” he replied. Alec chuckled and threw a leg over the saddle of one of the bikes. Spike already had the other one up and running and was revving the engine appreciatively, grinning maniacally. Alec found a pair of helmets by his feet, he turned to Willow,

“Want to go for a ride, milady?” he asked wryly. To his surprise, Willow shook her head.

“Not me, mister, I don’t like motorcycles. Not enough separating me from the ground,” she replied. She grinned and gestured to Dawn, who was talking to Buffy about something.

ASK HER, she mouthed silently. Alec frowned,

YOU SURE? He replied silently, she nodded.

“Hey, petite!” Alec yelled out. Dawn whirled around,

“Yeah, Alec?” she asked eagerly. Alec grinned,

“Ask your sister if you’re ready to take your first motorcycle ride?” he replied grinning crookedly. Dawn’s eyes widened with excitement as she spun around to face Buffy.

“Please?” she whispered fiercely. Buffy exhaled hard, then smiled,

“It’s your call, Dawn, you can do whatever you want,” she answered. Dawn squealed with glee and gathered her sister in a tight hug. Buffy laughed in surprise before returning the hug. Dawn pulled away, grabbing her arms.

“Thank you SO much,” she said fervently. Buffy laughed,

“Get out of here, you little lunatic!” she teased. Dawn sprinted towards the bike and Alec. Buffy turned to speak,

“Make sure she wears a-” Alec held up a helmet, cutting her off with a smug smile. Buffy swallowed the rest of her warning and smiled, she really didn’t give her brother enough credit. Alec handed the helmet to Dawn, who strapped it on as she got onto the bike behind him. He turned his head and whispered a few things, before smiling. Dawn got a shy little smile and carefully wrapped her arms around his waist, holding tightly.

“Luv!” Spike yelled out, “Let’s go already!” Buffy shook her head.

“No thanks, Spike, not my style,” she turned to Faith, who was eyeing the bikes covetously. “You want on, girl?” she asked wryly. Faith whirled around,

“Hey, B, I mean that’s your man on there,” she started. Buffy cut her off,

“And he’ll stay my man when the ride is over. Get going,” she grinned. Faith stared a while, then her face broke into a wide grin.

“Thanks, B,” she replied. Buffy smiled and patted her shoulder. Faith bounded off towards Spike. The vampire frowned,

“What the Hell is all this then?” he demanded.

“Payment for me kicking your ass the other night,” Faith replied quickly, strapping on a helmet, “Let’s ride, Blondie!” Spike muttered something obscene under his breath but began to ease the bike off the grass, onto pavement.

“Hey Dad!” Alec yelled as the others began piling into the van, “We’ll follow you to this bar, all right?” Giles nodded and got into the drivers seat. Alec turned his head to Dawn,

“Hold on tight, petite,” he told her. Dawn rested her face against his back, feeling the warm wool of his duster caressing her face; her arms wrapped around his waist.

“Not an issue,” she whispered closing her eyes contently. Alec revved the engine and guided it out of the motor park. Spike grinned at Alec,

“Told you Harleys are the way to go!” he yelled. Alec just revved the engine louder before cupping his hand over the portion of his helmet covering his ear,

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you: Did you just say that you couldn’t catch a ’53 Packard if your life depended on it?” he asked grinning. Spike’s eyes widened and he flipped him off before peeling out of the motor park, Faith whooping loudly. Alec grinned and gunned the engine, eliciting a squeal from both the tires and Dawn as he rocketed behind the blond vampire.

Dawn squeezed Alec tighter. She felt so…free and alive right now. Suddenly a roar from her left interrupted her reverie as Spike pulled up along side them.

“This is the ONLY way to travel!” he roared. Alec grinned,

“ ‘A charted course!” he replied. Spike grinned,

“ ‘And each careful step, along the highway,” he finished laughing. Spike stretched out his hand, Alec slapped it as Spike gunned the engine and shot ahead of them, weaving through traffic, receiving blaring horns from angry motorists. Alec turned back to Dawn,

“How you doing back there, Dawn?” he yelled. Dawn looked up at him with teary eyes caused by the wind, she grinned.

“This is AMAZING!” she yelled. Alec laughed and turned his attention back to the road, gunning the engine. Dawn whooped in excitement, Alec shook his head,

They grow up so fast. He thought wryly to himself as he weaved through the traffic, keeping the black van in sight.

After a few more twists and turns, they arrived at their destination. Giles pulled into a large parking lot across the street from the address, and killed the engine. Angel opened the large sliding door on the side and hopped out, turning around to help Buffy and the others out. She smiled at Spike, who had just pulled in behind them with Alec close behind.

“How was your ride, boys?” she asked wryly. Spike killed the engine and hopped off, grinning wildly.

“Goh! What a rush!” he gathered the slayer in his arms and hoisted her into the air, spinning her around. She laughed as he kissed her mouth. Angel watched, his eyes twin studies in pain before turning to help Anya out of the van. Alec hopped off and helped Dawn off the bike. She wrapped her hands around his shoulder, luxuriating at the feeling of his hands on her ribs as he hoisted her slim body off the bike and set her down on the ground. Alec grinned,

“Have a good time, petite?” he asked wryly. Dawn swallowed and nodded,

“It was great…” she breathed. She suddenly realized that her fingers were frozen stiff. She cupped them and blew breaths of hot air to warm them, “And cold,” she finished, smiling slightly. Alec took her hands in his,

“Here,” he whispered, taking her hands in his and rubbing, getting the circulation flowing back into them. Dawn closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Within moments, warmth had flooded her hands as well as her entire body. She opened her eyes to gaze into his,

“Thank you,” she whispered. Alec smiled slightly, a smile that caused her to feel a little light-headed, before releasing her fingers and turning to address his father. Dawn smiled a secret smile and set to work stripping off her helmet.

“Is this the place?” Alec asked, gesturing to the bar across the street. Giles nodded and squinted trying to read the neon sign,

“Asura’s,” he read frowning.

“She’s in Hindu lore,” Angel commented walking up beside him, “A demon,” Giles sighed and took off his glasses. Alec smirked,

“Another cult you think?” he asked. Giles shook his head,

“I doubt it; if Marlena gave us this address, then she must believe it to be sound,” he turned to his son, “I doubt that there’ll be a significant demonic presence here,” he assured with a hint of finality.

“ ‘No significant demonic presence’?” Alec asked wryly, turning to his father with a grin. Giles just sighed and rubbed his eyes. The bar was sprawling beneath them, with only a little more reserve than the trucker’s tavern had. Loud music blared from a jukebox in the corner. But that wasn’t the main attraction. Several women were dancing on the bar, not nude, but pretty close, doing some rather interesting things with pitchers of water.

The fact that every single one of them was either a vampire or a demon was also a factor.

“My God it’s ‘Coyote Ugly’ meets Clive Barker,” Buffy commented with wide eyes. Alec grinned and turned to the group,

“Split up, Me, Buffy, Angel, Spike and Dad will stay here and check the place out. The rest of you head back to DeGanon’s and wait for us to come back,” he instructed. There were a few moans of complaints but after their last bar encounter, they got the hint. Willow gave him a kiss and Dawn flashed him a warm smile before they left. Giles eyed his son thoughtfully,

“I say, Alec, you seem to be growing into the leadership rather well,” Buffy snorted affectionately,

“Yeah, like a weed,” she replied. Alec shot her a wry look as the group descended a staircase into the main bar. Weaving their way through the crowd, the reached the bar. Giles cupped his hands over his mouth to shout over the music,

“We’re looking for the Maitre D’,” he yelled to a pink skinned woman with quills for hair. She grinned, revealing a forked tongue and turned to talk to someone else. Angel looked around thoughtfully,

“Reminds me of Madame Dorion’s” he commented. Giles frowned and turned to Angel,

“Isn’t that that establishment in Bel Air? The one that…” Angel shot him a look and Giles silenced instantly. Spike was too busy ogling a dancing vampire on the bar; Buffy was too busy glaring at Spike. Alec just smirked as a gray-skinned woman with flaming red hair and a dress that had holes in all the wrong places came up to the bar, grinning.

“I heard you’re looking for the ‘Maitre D’?” she asked, sarcasm dripping. Giles cleared his throat and nodded,

“That’s right, Marlena sent us. We need some information,” he replied. The demon nodded,

“Well, I’m the owner. Name’s Satara,” she grinned crookedly. The woman tossed her flaming hair back and flashed a grin and a pose that would raise a monk’s interest, celibacy be damned. “Marlena actually said ‘Maitre D’?” she asked. Giles nodded,

“She didn’t tell us this was…” he struggled for the proper word.

“A demonic burlesque?” Satara finished grinning. Giles colored and nodded. Alec decided to intervene,

“Terminology aside, Satara, we could really use some help. Name your price,” he flashed her his most charming grin. Buffy rolled her eyes at her brother as Satara eyed him appreciatively.

“Is that a fact, handsome?” she asked demurely. Alec looked momentarily taken aback,

“Uh…” Spike was trying not to burst out laughing as Satara continued to eyeball Alec with an intensely appraising look.

“Well, handsome, you have two choices,” she gestured to an unused stage, “One you sing us a tune and I can tell you what I see,” Alec frowned,

“What you see?” he asked hesitantly. Angel started paying attention,

“She’s anagogic, a psychic demon,” he informed them, eyeing her critically, “There’s a Karaoke bar in L.A. run by another one,” Satara frowned at him.

“Hold up, you’re Angel?” she asked. Angel nodded slowly, Satara grinned, “Yeah, Lorne told me about you. He and I are kind of in a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship.” She grinned wickedly and the observing men were quickly losing their resolve in the face of this walking epitome of sensuality. “So you’re the vampire who sang Barry Manilow, huh?” Buffy, Alec, Giles and Spike whipped their heads around to gape at the vampire, who looked about ready to die…again.

“Something like that,” he commented dryly. Buffy threw her head back and laughed, Spike was nearly doubled over and Alec was pounding the bar, tears streaming down his face. Even Giles looked stunned.

“I would have given my left arm to see that,” Buffy finally gasped out. Angel scowled and thrust his hands into his pockets.

“It was for a good cause,” he muttered defensively. Alec, still laughing turned to Satara,

“So, musical performance, huh?” he asked. Satara shook her head,

“You sing, and the girls play,” she gestured to the scantily clad vampires, who were right now engaged in a fairly dramatic dance sequence on the bar, involving cartwheels, splits and more pitchers of water. Alec frowned,

“What if they don’t know the song?” he asked. Satara grinned,

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem,” she assured him. Alec sighed,

“Okay, what’s option two?” he asked. There was a yell of surprise, Alec spun round to see a guy in a suit being dragged onto the bar and having ice water poured down the front of his slacks while a female vampire began tearing his clothes off.

“That,” Satara replied gesturing to the scene. Alec blinked a few times and turned back to Satara,

“So…any song?” he asked mildly. Satara grinned and nodded. Alec sighed and turned to Spike,

“Hey Spike, I got an idea,” Alec told him and Spike snarled at him.

“You’re out of your bloody mind!” he sputtered. Alec grinned,

“C’mon, man, it’s for a good cause,” he cajoled. Spike scowled and shook his head vehemently,

“There’s nothing you could say or do that would convince me to get onto that stage and make a fool of myself!” he finished. Alec sighed then grinned as the perfect threat came to him.

“Well it’s either that or we dress in drag and perform a cover of Bowie’s ‘Boys Keep Swinging,’”


The spotlight hit the stage as Spike, bare-chested and looking very unhappy, began to croon,

“And now, the end is near and so I face the final curtain...,” he sang as Buffy, Giles and Angel were sitting grinning. The girls were doing their part, playing backup well.
“…and more, much more than this, I did it my way,” he continued. And with a roar, the guitars and drums were pounding as Alec came out in stage.

“Mistakes, I’ve made a few, but then again too few too mention!” he sang into the mic. The crowd went nuts as Spike and Alec began singing a duet.

“I’ve planned each charted course. Each careful step along the highway and more, much more than this, I did it my way!” Before long they were both getting into it, Spike seemed to be having a ball, dancing with one of the girls who were writhing on stage with them.

“Whooo!” Satara howled out waving a towel over her head. Spike and Alec got together for the last line,

“The record shows, I shot the bloke and I did it MYYYY WAAAAAAYYYY!” They finished with Spike throwing the mic off the stage and taking a long pull from a whiskey bottle, spewing it into the air with a grin.

“Fag off, everyone! Goodnight!” he cried before getting off the stage. There were hoots and howls of applause as Alec bowed and followed Spike, who was grinning like a mad man,

“Yee-haw!” he strode over to the table as patrons slapped his back and applauded, and bent low to gather Buffy in a crushing kiss. Buffy mewed in surprise before returning the kiss tentatively. Alec grinned as he stepped off, getting some measure of applause, but Spike was the start of the show. Satara tossed him a towel and gestured to his bare chest,

“What’s with the strippage?” she asked wryly. Spike shrugged and toweled some sweat.

“You seem to have a rowdy crowd that would appreciate it. Besides what’s a few more shreds of dignity?” he replied evenly. Satara shook her head and handed Giles a slip of paper,

“Here’s a rabbi you should see. He should be able to fill you in,” she told him. Giles’ eyes widened,

“You got all that from that…display?” he asked askance. Satara grinned,

“Nope. Marlena called me ahead of time. That was just for fun,” she replied wryly. Alec laughed,

“Good to know I embarrassed myself for a good cause,” he laughed. Just then a female vampire came up behind him and ran her arms down his chest and began stroking his skin.

“Come back to my crypt,” she whispered, her game-face in place, “And I’ll show you a good cause,” she purred…literally. Alec smiled slightly and gently disentangled himself from the amorous vampire,

“Some other time, beautiful,” he grinned. She shrugged,

“Your loss,” she replied, not unkindly before tossing her hair back and walking away, swinging her hips back and forth. Alec eyed her admiringly as Spike joined him,

“I’ll agree with that,” Spike commented dryly. Alec nodded slowly,

“Oh, hell yes,” he commented solemnly. Spike just nodded.

“Ahem,” Buffy cleared her throat. Slowly, the pair tore their eyes from the retreating vampire’s backside and turned.

“I’m back,” Alec piped up. Buffy just rolled her eyes and handed him the address. Alec nodded,

“Okay, this sounds like a plan. Do we snag the others?” Buffy handed Spike the address. He read it and shook his head,

“No, mate, this is only a few blocks from here. DeGanon’s is clear across town and we’d never get there and back in time before sunup,” he handed the address back to Buffy who nodded in agreement.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Buffy, Angel, and Giles got to their feet as Alec pulled on his t-shirt and his duster. Satara grinned at them,

“Nice performance, boys. Sid Vicious?” she asked. Alec nodded,

“Once, then remade by Gary Oldman,” he answered. Spike nodded as he lit a cigarette,

“Mm. Can’t believe that soundtrack is out of print,” he snorted in disgust. Alec just nodded,

“You see why I covet yours, man?” he asked. Spike glared at him,

“Not in this lifetime, mate,” he retorted as the pair said their goodbyes and headed out.

“Yeah, but what about the next, oh immortal one?” he asked as he held up the door open. Spike stopped to exhale a plume of smoke,

“Maybe, talk to me after you kick the bucket,” he replied before exiting. Alec considered before following. The elder Giles just shook his head disapprovingly,

“I suppose I should be the adult here and nay-say and wag my finger at your antics,” His son shot him a look,

“Really? So what’s this Jenny told me about your participation in college musicals? Something about fishnets and ‘Doing the time warp again’?” Giles sighed taking off his glasses and pinching the skin at the bridge of his nose,

“She swore she’d keep that to herself until the day she died,” he commented dryly. Alec chuckled and patted his father’s shoulder,

“And so she did, afterwards however was another story…doctor,” Giles glared at this son as the pair of them headed out of the bar.

“Nice digs,” Alec commented as he parked his bike on the side of the road. Giles opened the door to the van, climbing out in front of him; he looked over the building,

“Yes, I mean for being located in such a dilapidated portion of the city, this synagogue is actually quite nice,” he took off his glasses and smiled. Buffy walked over to them,

“So, we meet this Rabbi guy?” she asked. Alec nodded and looked down at the piece of paper in his hand,

“Yeah uh…Rabbi Mesha, I think,” he shrugged and turned to Willow “Name mean anything to you?” he asked the young woman. She frowned, thinking back to her Jewish school days,

“Sure, Mesha is another way of saying Moses,” she replied smiling. Alec looked up and shrugged,

“Well, I suppose that’s appropriate,” he turned to Buffy, “So who goes talking to the good Rabbi?” Buffy shrugged,

“I think it’s safe to say that isn’t trap-worthy, still…” she turned to Spike, who had pulled up on his bike beside them,

“You want to stay out here with everyone else? Just until we get to talk to the rabbi?” Spike nodded,

“Sure luv, besides holy places and vampires just don’t mix,” Angel frowned,

“I don’t know, I’ve always had a thing for convents,” he replied evenly. Spike snorted derisively,

“Let’s not get into that now, okay?” he said with more than a hint of disdain. Angel shrugged and turned to Buffy,

“We’ll wait out here,” he told her. Buffy nodded and turned to Giles and Alec,

“Shall we?” she asked. They nodded and headed across the street up the stone steps. Giles checked his watch,

“It’s entirely possible that it may be closed for the evening, you realize,” he commented. Alec strode up the double doors and, with a grunt, shoved them open,

“Or not,” Giles finished wryly. Alec flashed him a grin and entered the temple.

The décor was sparse but comfortable. Candles were lit and there were a few benches along with an altar. That was about it. Still, there was a sense of peace in the temple, of security. Alec smiled slightly and turned to face the others, who wore similar expressions,

“Feels nice in here,” he commented. Buffy smiled and nodded,

“Yeah, very Zen, grasshopper,” she replied wryly. Giles cleared his throat and peered up at a painted window,

“Yes well, with any luck the Rabbi-”

“Can I help you?” a voice called out from behind them. They turned around to face an older man with dark skin, wearing a white wetsuit and carrying a white surfboard. He smiled at them through a salt and pepper beard. Giles spoke up,

“Yes, hello, we were looking for Rabbi Mesha,” he told him. The man grinned and reversed the grip on his surfboard revealing a large Star of David in blue,

“You found him,” he replied evenly. Buffy gaped,

“You’re a Rabbi?” she asked dumbly. He grinned and walked over to them; the man was tall a good six feet, and pretty muscular underneath that wet suit,

“Who were you expecting? Grandpa Moses?” he asked wryly. He took Giles’ outstretched hand in a firm handshake that had the other wincing,

“Rabbi Mesha, at your service,” he grinned. Alec nodded and gestured to the surfboard,

“You surf?” he asked. The rabbi rolled his eyes,

“No, actually, I just felt like carrying this heavy thing around with me for the fun of it,” he replied wryly. Alec grinned,

“Okay, stupid question,” he admitted, “But isn’t surfing in the Atlantic at night a little risky?” he asked. The Rabbi grinned and turned his eyes heavenward,

“God watches over his flock,” he replied simply. Giles cleared his throat,

“Yes, well, we have a bit of a problem we were hoping you could help us with,” he told the other man. Mesha nodded,

“I gathered; tell you what. Let me get into something a little more respectable and you bring your friends in here and we’ll swap facts,” he instructed. Giles nodded,

“All right,” he replied evenly. Mesha gave them a mock salute and headed through a door at the back. The three turned to watch him depart,

“Interesting guy,” Buffy commented, “Reminds me of Oz,” she said thoughtfully. Alec snorted,

“Is it a full moon?” he asked dryly. Buffy swatted him playfully,

“None of that,” she chided gently. Giles walked over to the open doors and gestured to everyone that all was well.

A few phone calls later and everyone was assembled, either outside the temple or within its confines. The group within sat on a couple of benches a few minutes later. The rabbi, clad in more traditional Rabbi garb, was listening intently to their story. Dawn was outside chatting with Anya. She hadn’t really felt like hearing the story again and Anya had volunteered to join her. Buffy was able to tell the Rabbi the whole story, including the truth about Dawn. Spike and Angel miraculously suffered little discomfort from the place, though Spike was grumbling about not being able to smoke. Finally the Rabbi spoke,

“Your story is…amazing,” he shook his head in awe, “And I would be honored to assist you in your quest,” he told them. There were surprised smiles from everyone; rarely were things so easy.

“However, I must ask you for a boon,” he added. The smiles faded; things were NEVER that easy. Buffy nodded,

“Okay, what can we do?” she asked. The rabbi’s face grew grave,

“Something has been killing children in this neighborhood,” he told them grimly. There were looks of shock,

“Children?” Willow asked aghast. The rabbi nodded,

“Something is hunting them in their dreams. The children, those that are left, won’t go to sleep, claiming that a ‘scary man’ is after them. Children that are found…” he shuttered slightly and the group got the hint. “It’s had to be closed casket ceremonies for those poor kids,” the Rabbi whispered. Alec’s eyes narrowed,

“It’s done,” he turned to Buffy, who looked equally pissed,

“We find what’s doing it and we make it very dead,” she promised him. The Rabbi nodded,

“Thank you,” he replied. Alec turned to Xander,

“What was that about Freddy Kreuger?” he asked grimly. Xander sighed and hung his head,

“I know, I’m a jinx,” he replied glumly. Alec turned to Willow,

“I want you and everyone else out of here,” he instructed firmly, “Buffy and I will stay here and go hunting for this thing,” Willow opened her mouth to protest, Alec cut her off with a look,

“I’ve seen you die once, I’m not going to let it happen again,” he growled. Willow closed her mouth and nodded. Alec turned to Faith,

“In case this doesn’t work out, you’re plan, B. If we show up as kibbles and bits, promise me you’ll find this thing,” Faith nodded,

“You got it,” she replied fervently. Alec nodded and turned to Spike.

:”Can I see you outside for a moment, mate?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah sure, no problem.”

The pair of them headed outside, Buffy frowning at their backs in consternation, wondering what was up.


“What’s the deal mate?” Spike asked quizzically, reaching for a smoke.

“I’m going to get that bloody chip out of your head,” Alec replied evenly.

“You’re gonna do what now?”

“Just…try to hold still.”

“Oh that’s comforting.”

Extending a single finger, Alec pointed it at Spike’s left eye, and a thin tendril of darkness begin to emerge from the finger tip, making its way towards the vampire’s eyeball.

“Uh…..Alec?”

“Trust me, mate, just don’t flinch.”

“Easy for you to say.”

The darkness tendril took on a point, fine as a needle; it came closer and closer to Spike’s eye and then without a hint of resistance, punctured the vampire’s eye.

“How does that feel?” Alec asked.

“Bloody well strange, how do you think it feels?” Spike growled, “Now what?”

“Now things get interesting.” Concentrating Alec extended the darkness through Spike’s occipital cavity and towards the brain.

“Alrighty, I believe we’ve hit gray matter,” Alec announced, “Now to find that damn chip.”

Alec focused and the needle of darkness resting against his friend’s brain split into a hundred tiny hairs of writhing dark matter.

“Nyuh! What the hell are you doing?” Spike asked aghast, “Feels like there’s ants in my skull!”

“Just hold still and remind yourself that the brain itself can feel no pain. Be damn grateful you’re not going to have a massive cerebral hemorrhage from all this.”

Alec probed for several moments before he found it.

There!

He wrapped the tiny tendrils around the small piece of metal and plastic and let his power dissolve the bond that held it to his friend’s brain. Within moments it was free.

“Okay, I’ve got it; now time for extraction.”

“ ‘Extraction’? What do you mean ‘extraction’?” Spike demanded.

Twisting his wrist, Alec pulled the tendril back out of the inside of Spike’s skull and proceeded to pull it around and down, across Spike’s face and towards his nose.

“Ah ah ah ah, careful!” Spike said with gritted teeth. There was a small bulge as the chip reached his face. Alec twisted and pulled, there was a pop and a small piece of bloody plastic fell out of Spike’s nose.

“Consider that your wedding present,” Alec said as he dissolved the darkness.

Spike wiped at his bloody nose and then smashed his boot down onto the chip.

“Stupid sodding thing!” he cursed before sniggering and spitting a glob of phlegm and blood onto the shattered plastic fragments.

“Well said,” Alec put in.

“Now I gotta ask, what inspired you to do that?” Spike asked.

“I want to make sure you’re on a level playing field with ‘Broody Mcvampire-pants’”, Alec replied cocking his head towards the group.

“Angel?”

“Yeah. He’s taking way more of an interest in my sister than I’m comfortable with and I think it would help you guys if Buffy wasn’t worried about that chip holding you back in battle.”

“I did all right against those bloody cultists.”

“I know that and you know that, but if Buffy has any reason, rational or no, to think that she needs to protect you at all, you’re never going to be able to seal the deal and walk her down the isle and that is something I would very much like to see.”

Spike reached out and clasped his friend’s hand. “Thanks mate.”

“No worries, now let’s go rejoin the others.”

Spike nodded, still rubbing at his nose and trying to get the sensation of ants in his head out of his mind.


Alec and Spike rejoined the group “Okay then,” he turned to Buffy, “Let’s go have some bad dreams,”

The others began filing out of the temple, Giles turned to Alec,

“Alec, I must say this is terribly risky. A dream creature can supposedly only be slain in the waking world and bringing one across is incredibly difficult,” Alec nodded,

“I know, Dad, but if we get our tickets punched, Faith is going to need a Watcher,” he smiled at his father, “I can think of no one better suited for the task. Faith has pulled a 180 but she still needs help,” Giles sighed and nodded at his son’s logic.

“Very well,” he took off his glasses and gripped his son’s arms, “Be careful, Alec,” he said hoarsely. Alec nodded,

“Go give Buffy a pep talk,” he assured his father. Giles nodded and turned to go talk to Buffy. Alec walked over to Willow, who looked scared. Alec grinned,

“No worries, love, I’ll be all right,” he reassured her. Willow smiled slightly and handed him the playing card Oliver had given him originally.

“Here, for luck,” she whispered before throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, Alec,” she whispered, her eyes tearful. Alec smiled and kissed her hair,

“Ohhh,” he sighed longingly holding her, “I love you too, Willow,” he smiled as he pulled back, kissing her eyes, “No tears, love, we’re going to be fine,” Willow sniffled and nodded.

“Better not tell Dawn,” she whispered. Alec smirked slightly,

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” he replied. Willow smiled,

“Dealing with two heartbroken women might be a bit much,” she sniffled. Alec shook his head,

“Don’t let that heart get damaged, you gave it to me and I intend to take care of it” he promised.

“Then come back alive,” she whispered fiercely. Alec nodded and gathered her mouth in a long kiss. Willow mewled softly and took his face in her hands, not wanting to let him go.

Finally, they parted. Alec kissed her forehead; Willow’s eyes closed and she rested her head against his.

“Be careful, Alec,” she whispered. He nodded and gestured to Xander with whom he’d made his peace. Gently disentangling himself from Willow, he led her into Xander’s arms who held her supportively,

“Hey, don’t give it a thought, Wills. Alec’s scary, trust me, I know,” he grinned wryly. Alec smirked and nodded gratefully as Xander led his friend away.

Dawn walked over to Alec, watching Willow go,

“What’s the matter with her?” she asked. Alec shrugged,

“She’s just a little tired,” he lied. Dawn turned to him slowly peering at him.

“Alec….” She said with a hint of warning. Alec sighed, he should have known better,

“She’s scared, petite, Buffy and I need to help out the rabbi with something a little tricky,” he told her. Dawn’s eyes widened,

“What kind of thing?” she demanded. Alec braced himself,

“The uh…demonic kind,” he confessed. Dawn paled and Alec quickly placed a hand on her shoulder,

“It’s okay, this isn’t going to be a repeat of the Deadlands, don’t worry,” he reassured her, “There’s something killing children, a dream demon or something. Your sister and I are going to hunt it down so it can’t hurt any more kids,” Dawn swallowed a few times painfully before nodding,

“Okay,” she whispered. Alec smiled and gathered her in a tight hug. Dawn clutched at him desperately as he stroked her hair, whispering soothingly. Placing a kiss on her head, Alec released her, setting her down gently.

“I’ll see you when I’m done, promise,” he whispered. Dawn nodded and sniffled before smiling slightly,

“Gonna go play hero again, huh?” she asked wryly. Alec nodded,

“Something like that,” he replied chuckling. Dawn’s face grew calm and gently she reached out a hand and stroked his face.

“It suits you, Alec,” she whispered suddenly looking a lot older. Alec frowned puzzled.

“Dawn?” he asked carefully. Dawn shook herself and laughed gently talking back her hand,

“Sorry, I was having an ‘impending doom’ moment,” she replied sardonically. Alec grinned,

“Not a problem” he laughed taking her hand in his he bent low and placed a lingering kiss on it. Dawn smiled and bit her lower lip in pleasure as Alec straightened.

“Now, go join the others and I’ll see you soon, okay?” he asked. Dawn nodded,

“You bet,” she replied, trying to be brave. Alec smiled,

“That’s my girl,” he said to her, his voice full of compassion. Dawn’s face brightened,

“I can live with that,” she commented perkily before blushing and hurrying away. Alec chuckled and turned to face Buffy, who was walking away from a very concerned looking Spike,

“Said your goodbyes?” he asked. She nodded and tried to smile,

“You’d think we’d get used to these kinds of things,” she replied. Alec shook his head and watched as people began disappearing into the van.

“You never get used to it,” he whispered in a strained voice. Watching his father pull the car away, he stared after it until it disappeared from sight. Buffy looked up at him,

“You okay?” she asked concerned. Alec nodded,

“Yeah, I just got this funny feeling, like I’m not going to see them again or something,” he replied. Buffy hit him upside the head hard,

“Ow! What was that for?” Alec demanded. Buffy pointed a finger at him,

“Don’t go all fatalistic on me, you hear me?” she growled. Alec smiled slightly as he rubbed the back of his head,

“Fair enough, just don’t hit me anymore, okay?” he pleaded. Buffy narrowed her eyes,

“We’ll see,” she replied before heading up the stairs back into the temple. Alec chuckled and followed, as he reached the threshold he stopped and turned to gaze off at the point where the van had disappeared. He sighed and closed the door.

In the van there was silence as the group drove away. Willow sighed and looked over at Dawn who was facing the window,

“Hey Dawney, you okay?” she asked. Dawn didn’t turn around,

“Yeah,” she whispered as tears streamed freely down her face. She did her best to hide the quiver in her voice, “I’m fine.”

God, if you ever cared about me, please, PLEASE let Alec be all right. She closed her eyes and prayed.

“So what do we do?” Alec asked as he, the Rabbi, and Buffy entered a small room in the back of the temple. Rabbi Mesha removed a stick of incense and lit it. A strong, tangy smell filled the room as he began to pray. Alec promptly shut up so as not to interrupt. Buffy leaned in to whisper,

“I think this is the part where you get real quiet and let the nice holy man do what he needs to,” she whispered, her voice heavily sardonic. Alec’s lips curled in a wry smile.

“I will have to put you into a deep sleep, you will be living a waking dream,” the rabbi informed them. Buffy frowned,

“That’s really kinda vague,” she commented. Rabbi Mesha sighed,

“I know and I apologize, all I can tell you is this: when you enter the dream world, what you see will not always be what is,” he held up a finger in warning, “And you must always remember: a wound suffered in the realm of dreams will be here when you awake,” Alec nodded grimly,

“Translation: Die in dreams, die here. Got it,” Alec turned to face Buffy, “You ready?” Buffy screwed on a brave smile,

“Dream me up, Scotty,” she quipped lightly.

The Rabbi chanted in Hebrew then taking a handful of fine white sand, he began to sift it onto Buffy and Alec’s head. Their eyes began to droop,

“God be with you,” Rabbi Mesha said from what sounded like a faraway place to the pair. And the world faded into white then black.

Alec awoke facedown on the cold stone floor of the synagogue; he felt oddly light-headed and as he lifted his head, a small stream of fine white sand flooded off his head onto the stone below. He brought a hand up to brush it out as he wearily climbed to his feet. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings.

Whereas the synagogue in the waking world had been elegant and comforting, the room he stood in now was a study in nightmarish decay. Rocks crumbled and cobwebs and moss choked every surface, the windows were all shattered, and a portion of the front wall was missing exposing the sky beyond. Alec’s brain caught up with him when he realized the sky itself was a deep red.

“Creepy,” he muttered and then it hit him: he was completely alone.

“Buffy?” he yelled out, his voice sounding slightly muted. He scanned the rows of rotted pews for any sign of her.

There! Near the back, a blond profile, lying prone behind one of the pews. Alec rushed over to it.

There was Buffy lying face down on the pew, her face to the wall. She lay very still as Alec knelt by her and slowly turned her over.

“C’mon sis, we gotta-” his instincts were a fraction too slow as he fully turned over the figure.

It wasn’t Buffy; it wasn’t even human. Rather than a face, leering up at him was a huge gaping maw filled with teeth that encompassed the entire front of its head. The creature roared deafeningly and clamped cold clammy hands on either side of his head. Alec gasped in pain as the creature slowly crushed his skull, dragging him towards that drooling maw.

Frantically, Alec lashed out with a hand towards the beast’s throat. A curved blade erupted from his palm, slicing downward through flesh and tendon to clash hard against the stone floor below. The maw made a gurgling sound of surprise before the hands dropped away from his head, dead.

Alec scrambled away, massaging his head from the crushing pressure that had been inflicted on it.

“I hate this place,” he muttered darkly. Shaking his head to clear the stars from it, he hiked his jacket up and headed off into the red-tinged world of nightmares.

Alec wandered through the cracked streets warily. He realized that this place was nothing less than a hideous parody of the semi-familiar streets of New York. Things scuttled unseen in the dripped shadows. Occasionally a wraith-like form would drift closely to him, only to retreat the moment Alec fixed it with a dark glare of his own.

That’s right shadow-boy, you’re looking at a pro, he thought to himself grimly as the wraiths retreated. He turned a corner-

His hands were up before his brain was even fully cognizant of the beast before him. The creature roared and lashed out at him; Alec blocked it and stumbled back. It was astonishingly strong. Was everything in this realm supercharged? He wondered.

The creature was humanoid with large fanged maw, gray, mottled skin, and a shock of white hair. It launched into a flurry of punches and though Alec was able to block them, inwardly he grimaced. Not only was the thing slayer-strong, it also had comparable speed and training.

The creature backhanded him, hard, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Okay friend, you want to play rough?

Alec rolled back onto his hands and flipped his feet up hard, catching the beast under the chin. It screeched and fell back as Alec rolled up easily to his feet then lashed with a cartwheel kick, slamming two feet in rapid succession into the beast’s head, causing it to fall back hard. It slowly re-oriented itself, eyeing him now very warily.

Slowly the creature advanced, then launched a roundhouse kick; Alec blocked it easily, after all he’d seen it a thousand times befo-

My God.

He lowered his arms warily, peering at the beast. Reaching a decision he made a gamble, if he was wrong the beast would surely tear him apart.

But if he was right…

Closing his eyes, he began a kata, a precise set of martial arts moves.

Then he smiled when he felt the ‘beast’ respond in perfect time. Punches were blocked slowly, almost languidly. Kicks made light contact against torsos. Each move was measured, careful and mirrored perfectly by the other.

Finally Alec relaxed his muscles and opened his eyes, smiling as he saw his sister standing before him.

“How did you know?” he asked her, still amazed. She winked,

“Well who else throws themselves around in the air like that?” she replied grinning. He laughed and reached over snatching her up in a tight embrace. She squeezed him tightly before letting him go.

“I really didn’t want to be alone in this place,” she confessed. He nodded emphatically,

“No argument there,” he replied as they parted. He sighed and looked around,

“So, now which way do we go?” Buffy looked around and sighed,

“Whichever direction looks the least freakish?” she offered vainly.

“I can tell you,” a small voice sounded out. Buffy and Alec whirled around to face a small boy, no older than 9 with blond hair and pale blue eyes.

“I know where to go,” he repeated. Buffy kneeled down in front of him, even as Alec kept his guard up, just in case. Things in the Nightmare world were rarely what they appeared to be; he’d learned that the hard way.

“Hi there, I’m Buffy, what’s your name?” she asked the boy. The boy smiled gap-toothed smile,

“Seth,” he replied, “You’re looking for him aren’t you? The bad man?”

Alec and Buffy exchanged looks at that.

“Yes, yes, we are Seth, can you take us to him?” she asked quietly. He shook his head,

“You have to go somewhere else first,” he said pointing towards a decrepit warehouse like building down the street.

“Charming,” Alec quipped dryly as he took in the looming, gutted silhouette of the warehouse.

“You have to go their first, there’s things you need to see,” Seth told them, taking their hands and leading them down the street,

“You know,” Buffy commented thoughtfully, “The last time I was lead somewhere by a child, it ended badly,”

“How badly?” Alec asked.

“I died,” she replied. Alec blanched inwardly,

“Yes, that qualifies,” he confirmed, suddenly acquiring his father’s nervous stutter. Buffy smiled humorlessly as they were led to the gaping entrance.

The boy stopped at the entrance,

“I can’t go with you,” he informed them in a small voice. Alec and Buffy sent each other suffering looks before plodding into the gloom.

The stench was unbelievable, like raw death, malaria and nightmares.

“Boy, I wish we had some backup,” Alec commented peering this way and that into the gloom.

“Sounds like a great plan. Know any armies for rent?” Buffy replied. Alec barked out a humorless laugh. Even more so than the caverns of the Deadlands, the darkness here was choking and oppressive. It was a like a cold hand clutched at his heart as Alec scanned the room for danger.

There was no warning, a sudden creak, a CRACK! And with a roar of shattered wood, the siblings fell through the floor into the darkness below.

They landed hard on a cold surface, Cement. Alec’s addled senses told him. A few stray pieces of rotted wood rained down upon them as they groaned and checked themselves for injuries,

“I REALLY hate this place,” Buffy growled. She peered around the room. The scent of the air was different, musty and dry, yet very familiar.

“Smells like a basement,” Alec commented saying out loud what she had been thinking all along. He peered at the various piles of clutter throughout the room, “Baby pictures, old tricycles, broken refrigerators, yeah it’s a basement,” he confirmed.

“Okay so the next question would be why the hell are we in a basement?” Buffy asked. Suddenly there was a loud whining mew from somewhere in the basement. Both Alec and Buffy tensed, their muscles trembling with tension,

“No, the next question is, what the hell was that?” Alec replied. Scanning the darkness he peered into a particularly cluttered corner. Moving over to it, he tossed away a rusted bicycle frame and a box of hideous lawn ornaments.

“What are you doing?” Buffy asked fiercely. Alec ignored her as he reached a large, locked wooden cabinet. He tore the lock off and ripped the doors open.

A small child, bound head to toe and wrapped in what looked like cellophane stood there, whimpering quietly. Buffy’s hand flew to her mouth,

“Oh God,” she whispered hoarsely. The tiny bundle thrashed weakly from side to side. Alec knelt down and started pulling at the plastic,

“It won’t come off,” he exclaimed, trying to work his fingernails under the binding plastic, to no avail.

Suddenly the door above them opened flooding the room with light, revealing a hulking shape,

“What the hell’s all this noise,” it demanded. The wrapped bundle trembled as much as it could with its constraints. Alec stood tall, Buffy flanking him,

“You are about to have every square inch of your ass kicked,” Alec informed the hulking shape darkly. Buffy just readied herself as the form advanced. Alec lashed out with a fist and stumbled as it passed clean through the form. A moment later the hulking form walked right through both Alec and Buffy, snatching the bound child from the cabinet roughly and dragging it across the floor.

“What the hell?” Alec asked bewildered. The hulking man heaved the plastic bundle onto a large work table and flicked on a blinding florescent light. His features were ugly and piggish, with tiny eyes, fat jowls and more than his share of chins.

“I told you to shut up!” the man slurred, clearly drunk. He took a large knife and brought it to the child’s head. Alec lashed out again with a fist and growled in frustration as it passed through the man. Clearly, the man did not even notice they were there. He slit the bag open around the child’s face. The child wailed loudly in pain as the fat man clamped a meaty hand over his face, nearly smothering him.

“I said SHUT UP!” he growled, squeezing his massive hand over the child’s face, there was a tiny ‘crack’ and twin rivulets of blood started to run out from underneath the man’s hand. Buffy looked sick,

“I can’t stand this,” she whispered hoarsely. Alec nodded in agreement and took his eyes off the horrid spectacle before them. His eyes widened when he spied a family portrait on the wall. He instantly recognized the fat man in the picture, alongside a pale, thin woman and-

“Seth!” Alec yelled in recognition.

And without warning his feet were yanked out from under him. Buffy cried out as Alec was hoisted upside down and higher into the air than a basement should allow.

A creature, clad in rags and wrapped in shreds of plastic grinned evilly at him. It had a narrow jaw and a wasted form. Attached to its legs were prosthetic extensions. Bits of plastic clung to the creatures form and created a mummy like mask around its face, revealing nothing but a pair of crazed red eyes and tufts of stringy black hair.

It reached out with a bandaged hand, tipped with gleaming claws and with a shout Alec lashed out with his hands. A large blade lashed out from his palm, slicing at the creature. It cried out and Alec had a split second to recognize the voice as human albeit barely so, before it released its grip on him, sending him plummeting to the stone floor below.

Buffy was ready and grabbing a hold of several large garbage bags created a makeshift cushion for the plummeting man. There was a loud WHUMP as bits of stuffing and pillow casing exploded into the air and came raining down like snow.
The bandaged man cackled manically before leaping like some kind of spider towards the wall, only to disappear within it, leaving a trace of crackling energy.

Buffy rushed over to Alec, “Are you okay?” she asked frantically, helping him to his feet. Alec groaned and rubbed his back, which was very sore at this point.

“Thing looked like a cross between Marilyn Manson and Freddy Kruger,” he winced as his fingers touched upon a very sore spot on his spine.

“That was the bad man,” a small voice said.

The pair turned quickly to spy Seth standing before them, looking very grave for a small child. The room around them melted away and once again they were standing outside the large rotted warehouse. Buffy knelt and gathered the boy in a hug,

“That was you, wasn’t it? In the cabinet?” she whispered tearfully. Seth didn’t return the hug but he didn’t struggle either. Rather he simply stood there, limp in the embrace. She released him to see the boy regarding her with wide, blue eyes.

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” he told them, taking their hands and leading them further down the street.

They walked perhaps five minutes before coming to suburban-style single story home. It might have been pretty in the real world, a white picket fence and an expansive lawn. Instead the fence was barbed wire, the lawn was brown and dead and the house itself resembled a festering wound, containing within rape, abuse and every suburban horror that gets swept under the rug and glossed over in the real world.

“Fantastic, it’s like ‘Leave it to Beaver’ on crack,” Alec commented sourly as they approached the house. He turned to Seth,

“Don’t tell me, in there, right?” he inquired dryly. Seth nodded. Alec sighed, “Okay, right,” Alec and Buffy approached the house even as Seth hung back. Placing his thumb on the large brass release in the handle, there was a CLICK and the door creaked open and they stepped forward quickly swallowed by the gloom inside the house. The door slowly creaked close and sealed with another ominous click.

The house had a late seventies motif. Stained linoleum floors dominated a kitchen that had clearly seen better days. Plates of crusted food were stacked overflowing into a sink filled to the brim with brown, soiled water that occasionally sloshed over the rim onto the floor below. Cockroaches crawled over most of the surfaces and feasted on rotted, half eaten piles of food pasted to the countertop, table and floor.

“Who remembers ‘Seven’?” Alec commented taking in the filth.

“We find a fat guy with ‘Gluttony’ written on the wall, I’m leaving,” Buffy replied. They slowly made their way through the kitchen, trying to ignore most of it and entered as cramped hallway littered with bits of trash and debris. The carpet was cheap shag and so heavily stained that the original color was indiscernible. All along the hallway cracked pictures of Jesus and other religious depictions lined the walls.

“Could this place BE anymore of a cliché?” Buffy commented dryly. Alec nodded distracted. There was a strange sound coming from the room at the end of the hallway, a muffled grunting, the occasional loud slap of skin on skin and a quiet sobbing. Alec held up a hand for Buffy to stay where she was. Buffy froze as Alec peered around the corner and turned gray, quickly ducking back around the corner and away from the scene in the living room. Buffy approached him concerned,

“What is it?” she hissed. Alec just gestured around the corner. Buffy peered and gasped putting a hand over her mouth, trying very hard not to be sick as she ducked back around to join her brother, who was bent over at the waist, hands at his knees and inhaling deeply.

“That’s..that’s-“ she sputtered out looking very ill.

“-Called ’Rape’ where I come from,” Alec commented shakily. “That’s Seth’s mother, I recognize her from a picture down in the basement before I got snagged by Bandage Boy,” Taking Buffy’s wrists in his hands, he positioned her hands over her ears. She nodded and trembling, put her hands over her ears and pressed them there until the skin flushed, then turned white. Alec leaned against the wall and tried to ignore the pleading sounds from the next room.

After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled hard and peered around the corner a moment before coming back,

“It’s over, he’s…it’s done,” he told her still sounding ill. Slowly Buffy released the death grip over her ears and nodded wiping away a few tears of sympathy and horror,

“That poor woman…” she whispered. Alec nodded.

“Agreed. Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into the den.

The hulking father was there; now clad in a white sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of boxers, reclined in an oversized and badly enduring recliner, which creaked under his weight. Alec tried to ignore the scent of fear and stale sweat, those being the least offensive odors in the room. As Buffy made her way past the man, who stared seemingly through her and at a flickering television, she grimaced,

“Never thought I’d be happy to see a guy like this in his boxers,” she muttered.

“Beats seeing him out of them,” Alec replied evenly. Buffy nodded her head so vehemently, Alec was worried it was going to come off,

“Scarred for life,” Buffy told him fervently as Alec approached the sounds of a woman sobbing. Alec slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

The woman was standing there in front of a mirror, sniffling and wiping her eyes, staring at her reflection. She was nude and might have once been pretty, before all the beauty had been starved and beaten out of her. Alec considered averting his eyes, but considering the position he’d just seen her not ten minutes ago in, this was tame. The woman climbed inside an old-fashioned and heavily discolored porcelain tub, she shivered and clutched at herself as she turned one of the knobs and the tub began to fill with blackish water. Alec gave Buffy the ‘all clear’ sign and she stepped inside. Instantly her heart broke,

“Oh God,” she whispered, closing the bathroom door behind her and coming to sit upon the rim of tub beside the woman. She reached out a hand to stroke her hair then snatched her hand back when her fingers passed through the woman’s head.

“I figured as much,” Alec commented sourly, “It was the same thing in the basement,” Alec sighed and looked around the bathroom trying to ignore the woman’s sobbing in the bathtub.

Then the sobbing stopped, and Alec’s intuition told him that something was very wrong.

“Alec…” Buffy whispered hoarsely, Alec turned and froze.

The woman was holding an old-fashioned straight razor staring obsessively at her own tortured expression in the dull blade’s reflection.

“Oh no, no, no,” Alec muttered, at once grasping both the events that were about to transpire and the utter lack of power he had over them.

“Hey!’ Buffy yelled futilely waving her hands frantically in front of the woman, trying to grab the razor blade and only succeeding in passing through her body like smoke. “Come on, don’t do this!” she cried.

Suddenly there was a tiny tapping at the door. Buffy and Alec whirled around at the sound. The woman in contrast, didn’t even seem to register it as she put the blade to her wrist testing.

“Mommy?” a small voice said. Buffy gasped as Alec reached over and tried to yank the door open, it wouldn’t budge. Alec growled and pulled, uncomprehending as to why the door that had only just a few moments ago admitted the in three occupants of the room with no difficulty was now utterly implacable now in its refusal to budge.

“Alec!” Buffy cried out, Alec turned and with a shriek the woman dug the blade hard into the veins of her wrist and slashed downwards, hard, there was a sick sound, like skin being peeled off a chicken and a spray of blood. Buffy screamed as Alec pounded on the door in frustration,

“Open, damn you, open!” he raged.

“Mommy?” the voice came again.

“Mommy’s busy,” the woman spoke for the first time, her voice eerily calm and dreamy, whether that was from insanity or blood loss was anyone’s guess.

And then, it was all over. The gory razor dropped from the woman’s hand with a loud CLACK. Her head lolled over to one side eyes staring blankly ahead and glazing over with death, there was a rasping gurgle and then nothing at all, only the thick, steady drip-drip of blood on the bathroom floor trickling down the wrist, palm and fingertips of the dead hand that hung over the rim like a broken wing.

Buffy cried now, having never witnessed anything like this before. Alec just sagged to the floor, crouched and resting heavily on the balls of his feet, wrists at his knees, hands dangling limp. He raised his hands up with agonizing slowness and ran his hands through his hair, making tight fists of bunched hair until his knuckles were white and his whole body was shaking.

Suddenly the door exploded; Alec and Buffy leapt to their feet as the father stormed in, followed closely by a young and emaciated-looking Seth. The father took in the scene with horror that quickly melted into rage.

“Mommy?!” Seth cried, taking his mother’s bloody and cold hand in his two tiny hands.

Then a meaty hand snatched up a heedful of the boy’s hair and tore him away from his mother’s hand and instead, smashing his face against her dead face.

“This is your fault, you little bastard,” the father hissed through clenched teeth, “See what you did?”

“Mommy!” the child cried out again, hysterically as his father pried open his eyelids to peer into his mothers glazed, dead eyes.

“Look at her! Look at her, you little puke!” The father bellowed to the sobbing child. Then he plunged the boy’s head into the bloody water and holding him there.

“Leave him alone!” Buffy screamed and launched herself at him.

“Buffy, no!” Alec cried out, fearing she would pass through the phantasms and dash her head against the wall.

Instead, with a shriek the dead woman lunged out of the water with the razor blade and slashed at Buffy catching her across the arm. Buffy cried out in pain as the blade tore through cloth and flesh, spinning her around to collide hard with the floor.

The scene had completely transformed, Seth and his father were gone, the bathroom had transformed into a gutted and blackened rendition of what it had been. The woman stood before them nude, her flesh, now bone white, accompanied with the purple blotches of advanced rigor mortis, her eyes blackened, swollen and empty.

The dead woman screeched again, black blood welling up in her mouth and overflowing past her decaying lips, and advanced on Buffy.

And then Alec sprang into action.

Snatching the porcelain top off the toilet, he hefted it around,

“Heads up!” he yelled. The dead woman turned, razor blade gleaming brightly as Buffy ducked. The blow caught her across the head, shattering her jaw and crushing bone. The woman wailed in pain and fell against the bathtub hard, her head dangling over the rim. Alec brought up the heavy porcelain slab slammed it hard down onto the back of her neck. There was a sickening CRACK and the body jerked once, then laid still. Alec tossed the slab away with a weary grin,

“That’s one for the books,” he frowned as he reached out to his wounded sister, “You okay?” he asked.

Buffy’s nod turned into a frantic scream!

“Behind yo-!”

It was too late.

Alec heard the rustling of cloth a fraction of a second too late and as he turned, a searing pain lanced through his back and side. He screamed in pain and pitched forward onto his knees, blood pouring out of him. He felt cold suddenly and as his legs gave way, his last sight was of the bandaged man wielding an axe stained with his own blood.

With a cackle, the Bandaged Man raised the axe up again over the prone man, ready to finish the deed.

And then with a scream of rage, Buffy plowed into the man like a blond freight train.

“You…son of a BITCH!” she screeched and slammed a fist hard into the man’s gut. Bones gave way with a wet sound as the man folded over hard at the waist. Buffy formed a hammer-fist and slammed upward hard, shattering the man’s nose and lifting him off his feet.

“Die!” she screamed, tearing a rusted towel rack out of the wall and bludgeoning the man with it over and over again. Through the haze of red, Buffy could hear the man cackling still.

Buffy brought up the makeshift weapon up one more time…and with another cackle, the bloodied man melted into the floor leaving only a black stain.

“No!” Buffy cursed throwing the metal rod hard against the floor in frustration.

“Ooooh….man,” a weak voice rasped. Buffy gasped and ran over to her brother, kneeling down and trying to ignore the amount of blood on the floor,

“You’re alive!” she cried out. Alec smiled slightly, very weak. Buffy peered at the axe wound; it was quite deep and she could see the dark slick of muscle tissue and beneath that, the off-yellow of a badly broken rib. Already though, the damaged tissue was starting to mend itself and in a few moments, the blood flow stopped entirely as the wound slowly began to heal.

“Looks like you caught most of it on a rib,” she commented. Alec nodded and coughed weakly, then checking his lips for blood.

“No blood, I don’t think any vitals were damaged,” he replied.

“Can you move?” she asked gently as she tried to clean some of the blood off his face. Alec cocked an eyebrow,

“What’s my motivation?” he rasped wryly. Buffy snorted gently,

“Survival,” she replied. Alec nodded and swallowed hard,

“Then, yes. I can move,” he replied evenly. He struggled to sit up and Buffy helped him up into a sitting position,

“I can move,” he amended, “with a little help,” Buffy nodded and put his arm over her and hoisted him up to his feet. Alec groaned loudly as still-healing muscle tissue screamed in protest.

“This sucks,” he commented. Buffy nodded,

“Amen,” she replied as she helped her brother out of the ruined bathroom and back into the red-tainted skies of the nightmare realm.

As the pair hobbled out of the ruins of the house, Alec spared a look backwards and snorted weakly,

“What is it?” Buffy asked as she craned her neck to see.

The house was gone.

“All those who are not surprised…or not suffering from an axe wound, raise your hand,” Alec commented wryly. Buffy chuckled and then gasped as Alec's legs fell out of from under him. Buffy lurched, catching him and lowering him to the ground.

“I think I’m in trouble,” Alec commented, coughing again, “My legs are completely numb, either from blood loss or nerve damage,”

“Let’s hope blood loss,” Buffy whispered, sounding very worried as she stroked her brother’s face gently,

Alec nodded then his eyes widened,

“Hey Buffy, when did we wind up on top of a lake?”

Buffy frowned and looked down, then gasped, as her mind comprehended what Alec was talking about. Where there was once ground, now Alec and Buffy were upon a still pool of deep red water.

Or what she thought may have been water, carefully and still not understanding completely how they were managing to be resting on TOP of the surface of the water, she ran her fingers over it and brought them back, a red and very familiar smear coated her fingertips, she sniffed it then winced,

“Blood,” she stated flatly. Alec chuckled,

“No thanks, sis, I’m full.” Buffy looked down and gasped as she realized she was dripping blood on Alec’s face from her fingers. Hurriedly she wiped it off and as she leaned over, Alec looked up past her and froze.

“Uh-oh,” he croaked. Buffy spun around,

Three forms clawed their way up from underneath the ocean of blood. The first was the bandaged man, cackling with axe in tow, the second: the mother, dead blue skin and wielding a straight razor that glittered red.

But the third was a hulking beast, bulbous and covered in a gray flabby hide with tufts of hair that sprung out from various portions of its body. Warts and sores oozed pus freely as it gurgled and belched, producing what looked like an oversized baseball bat in its huge meaty hands.

“Oh this is going to suck,” she growled getting to her feet as the horribly misshapen creatures began to flank her, cackling and snarling.

“Last time I had dreams like this, three-day old nachos were involved,” she quipped to cover her fear.

“These are the bad people,” a voice informed her from behind. She spared a look back to see Seth sitting cross-legged on the surface of the blood.

“Thanks for the tip, ki-,”

“Behind you!” Alec yelled out. Buffy turned just in time to dodge the mother’s glittering straight razor, Buffy gasped and fell back as the zombie-like corpse screeched in rage and hissed at her slashing with the razor and clawing at the air with dirty broken fingernails. Buffy dodged and smashed her palm into the woman’s nose, the creature screeched, falling back…

…and without warning the axe blade came down slicing open the top of Buffy’s hand almost down to the bone. She cried out and clutched her wounded hand to her as the cackling bandaged man swung and chopped, the blade of the axe gleaming bright red against the ocean of blood. Buffy fell back against the onslaught and raised her uninjured hand to ward off what was to be a deadly blow when suddenly the demon’s feet shot out from underneath it and he crashed to the floor his axe spinning away, two tendrils of darkness wrapped around his feet.

“Sibling Slayer team: One, Freddy Krugger: Zero,” Alec commented wryly. Buffy nodded in appreciation then started as the hulking monster, which could only be the father of this group roared and brought his bat down hard. The crack of impact was deafening but even more devastating were the effects as a shockwave rise high and hard racing towards the siblings. Buffy leapt high into the air to avoid the crushing wave and noticed that the axe the laughing demon dropped was sent flying up and then crashing down punching through the surface of the blood and sinking out of sight.

And then the wave reached Alec, and with a thunderbolt blast of horror, she realized that in his weakened condition there’d be no way he could avoid it.

“ALEC!!!” she screamed. The younger Giles watched the approaching wave with almost a wry smile,

Go get them, sis he had time to think. And then the wave hit. He bounced high into the air, every bone in his body cracking and then breaking; he dimly felt the sensation of flying and then landing on something that gave way. His vision was filled with red, his lungs with coppery salt and then nothing.

Too tired to even cry, Buffy watched her brother sink beneath the crimson surface of the blood as the last ripples from the monsters' attack faded. She landed and looked at them all with cold, dead eyes.

“You’re all dead,” she informed them simply, and then with a war cry she charged.

She reached the woman first. Batting aside the razor, she grappled with her, putting her arm in a lock and then with a violent twist broke it. The woman shrieked in pain as Buffy plucked the razor form her limp hand, reversed the grip and with a backhand spin drove the razor into the creature’s eye. The monster fell to its knees clutching at its ruined eye socket as Buffy placed both of her hands on either side of her head and twisted hard. There was a snap and the creature lay still.

She turned to face the other two demons when her side exploded into a white light of pain. She flew through the air and landed hard on the slippery liquid surface, skidding across it and coating herself in blood. She coughed hard, feeling things broken inside. There was blood on her lips, salty and metallic, whether it was a result from internal injuries or just her landing she didn’t know.

Weakly, she looked through swollen eyes to see the bulky form of father monster finishing it's follow through from the blow of the bat that had sent her flying. The cackling bandaged demon by comparison seemed almost lost without its trademark axe, but then it threw its head back, stringy black hair flowing out behind it and laughed high and insane as barbed claws grew out from underneath its fingertips.

Buffy coughed wetly as she watched the two advance on her,

“Neat trick,” she commented dryly as she struggled to her feet to attack the two oncoming demons.

She came in hard snapping a kick to the head of the bandaged monster, then dodging out of the way as the ham-sized fists of the father monster which came crashing down with enough force to split her skull. She traded blows with the smaller of the two, trying to keep it between herself and the hulking abomination that even now was grunting and glaring, looking for another chance to brutalize the young girl.

The bandaged monster came in cackling wildly with its claws; Buffy dodged and repaid in kind smashing her fists over and over into the creatures abdomen and head, it continued to laugh but there was definitely a note of desperation as Buffy beat it severely, breaking bones with every blow.

Finally the bandaged creature, wounded and broken and with a hysterical shriek lunged at the slayer. She caught its wrists high and the two strained against each other mightily, maimed and bleeding. With agonizing slowness, Buffy brought the clawed hands down to mid level and met the gaze from behind the soiled bandages.

Those eyes held fear, and misery and a plea for release.

Buffy was stunned by what she saw, so much so that she didn’t hear the hulking abomination behind her. The creature roared and lunged at the vulnerable slayer…and with a snarl Buffy twisted the arms of the bandaged creature and drove its claws right up into the guts of the hulking monster behind her.

“DIE!” she screamed, the words tearing her throat with its rage and spitting a glob of blood onto the hulking beast as it wailed in pain. She pushed the other creature's claws deeper and deeper into its flabby flesh as the bandaged monster bizarrely laughed even louder as it was unwittingly killing its compatriot.

With a roar, the father creature smashed them both aside; Buffy fell to the “ground” spent, and the bandaged demon collapsed under the blow as the father creature likewise fell back clutching at its oversized belly. Buffy weakly sat up and watched the trio in shock. The bandaged with its skeleton almost broken by the blow, bits of ragged bone peeking out of its body; the father, partially gutted with one meaty hand clutching its stomach trying to keep everything in; and with a look of dread amazement, Buffy watched the mother monster as it got to its feet, head lolling crazily, the razor still embedded in its eye socket and lurch/stumbled towards her.

The bandaged demon, shambling towards Buffy, lashed out with a gory arm and bandages leaped form its body to wrap around the Slayer’s legs. She struggled weakly as she was dragged towards the demonic trio. She felt herself being lifted up as her body was suspended and splayed by the ever-tightening bandages spooling off the creature’s body. She opened her eyes and saw that her arms and legs we bound and splayed wide in all four directions, her bones and muscles throbbed in pain. She lolled her head from side to side in pain-filled delirium and despair. Her brother was dead and she was next, it would be so easy to just.

No.

She may die, but she’d be damned before she surrendered.

She shook her head to clear the blood from her vision and watched. The scenario was depressingly clear. While the bandaged monster kept her bound and splayed, mommy and daddy were going to finish her off. She watched nauseated as the mother monster pulled the razor from her eye, black ooze pouring out of the wound as she prepared to return the favor to Buffy. The father demon readied the huge splintered bat for the final blow; Buffy could actually see where her blood stained the wood.

And then Seth walked in front of her, his eyes filled with…something.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and then it clicked.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak when the mother demon lashed out with the razor. Straining, fueled by pain and rage and shock, she felt her shoulders pop as the joints gave way, the ligaments tearing with a red- hot ripping sensation. The blade passed through where Buffy’s face had been not a moment before and sliced through one of the bandages binding her. It wasn’t much but it was enough; Buffy ducked as the mother creature fell forward, overextended and right into the path of the oncoming bat swung by the father monster. The bat crunched into the skull of the dead woman, her skull compressed instantly and with a wet shriek she dropped as the bat bounced off her skull out of control.

Buffy wrapped her arm around the cut bandage and pulled hard, the bandaged demon stop laughing abruptly as, weakened and wounded as it was, could not keep from stumbling forward right into the path of the wayward bat. The creature shrieked as its bones which were already broken and battered, were jellied on impact. Buffy grabbed the broken monster and, swinging it like a club, struck the bat, ricocheting it into its wielder’s face. The enormous monster wailed in pain as its own bat pulverized its face and it toppled to the ground.

Her bindings long gone slack, Buffy pulled herself free and toppled away from the bloodied trio. She stared at Seth in shock. Wordlessly the young boy pointed behind her, his face calm. Buffy turned and choked out a sob as the trio got back up. No longer even remotely whole looking, they resembled nothing so much as car accident victims that had been given animation. Their bones pulped, their organs split, their guts pierced, the bloody trio shambled towards Buffy, mouths open and making horrible gurgling sounds.

“They can’t be stopped. I’m sorry,” Seth said, his little boy voice breaking into a near sob. Buffy looked blankly in near shock as one of them reached towards her.

And with an explosion of blood that sprayed Buffy’s back in gore, Seth screamed. Buffy spun around to see Alec standing there, covered in blood from head to toe and wielding the axe that had been dropped.

Which was now embedded in Seth.

Seth tried to look behind him in shock, his little eyes wide in shock.

“W…why?” he asked stunned at his murderer. Alec gave no reply instead with a feral snarl he tore the blade from the boy’s body. Seth looked down at himself then back at Buffy, whose eyes were wide with shock and horror.

Then he crumpled to the ground and lay still.

There was an ear-piercing shriek Buffy wrenched her gaze away from the horrific sight only to be greeted by a second one. The trio of monsters had split open right down the middle, even more blood sprayed out of them like a geyser as they wailed and thrashed in their death throes.

First the mother dropped, its body split down the middle and oozing red blood this time, not black. It flopped much like a beached fish its mouth opening and closing rapidly making gasping noises before it lay still. It proceeded to sink beneath the blood.

The father dropped next with a colossal impact sending ripples through the multiple rolls of fat around its grotesque belly, which had also been split open down to the bone. It likewise sank underneath the surface.

Finally, the bandages from around the last monster’s head began to unravel, revealing a young man with a scarred and pitted face accompanied by haunted eyes.

“Seth,” Buffy whispered. The elder Seth almost smiled before lightly touching his own mortal wound. Then he collapsed and lay still. Buffy turned to face the child Seth. Coated in blood, he too was dead.

She knelt by Alec, whose breathing was shallow and pained, much like her own. Alec took her bloody hand in his,

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I had to do…what needed to be done,” he whispered, his face and tone spoke of volumes of pain. Buffy just nodded, resting her cheek on his chest. The two were so thoroughly saturated with blood they barely noticed it anymore. She closed her eyes and felt his chest rise and fall rapidly; she could hear his breath rattling painfully in his body and feel her own doing the same.

A gasp from Alec caused her to turn to look and tears sprung in her eyes.

It was a sunrise. A bright cleansing sun rising over the horizon of blood, bathing their battered bodies in beautiful gentle light, banishing their horror and pain, it warmed them and she clung to her brother as their two hearts filled with hope that rose, just as a sun now rose over this place of nightmares to herald the coming dawn and glory.

Suddenly, with a rush of blood, a whirlpool began to take shape. Buffy, too tired to feel anything, simply held her brother tightly and felt him hold her just as tightly. They bodies slid around and around as they clung to each other, neither tearing their eyes from the awesome spectacle of the sunrise. Their hands entwined, knuckles white. And as brother and sister, they disappeared under the whirling waves and vanished.

Together and alive.

It began as a sub-sonic rumble, more felt than heard; then the rumbling grew, became violent, candelabras toppled, chairs tipped and fell and with an explosion of glass, the stained glass window dominating the space above the altar erupted in a deluge of blood depositing the two battered warriors onto the stone floor below. Buffy coughed and spat up blood rolling onto her hands and knees, pushing aside her gore-matted hair.

“I’m going to be cream-rinsing for a week,” she grumbled before wincing in pain, touching her broken ribs and myriad of other injuries gingerly. She looked around and spied her brother in a sitting position propped up against a wall, chin resting lightly against his chest. She crawled to him and stroked his hair back.

“Hey? Alec?” she whispered. She took his hand in hers and pressed the palm to her face. Smiling, she felt the fingers lightly stroke her cheek. Alec took her bloody hand in his and kissed it. Buffy giggled and made a face.

“Yuck,” she commented. Then he grinned and with a whoop, Buffy leapt into his arms hugging him tightly, tears leaking down her face, washing away the blood from her eyes and leaving twin trails of clean skin in their wakes.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered hoarsely. Alec shook his head and kissed her hair gently. “I love you, big brother,”

“I love you too, kid sister,” he replied. They held each other like that for a few moments, each taking a moment to cry and rid themselves of the horror of the nightmare world. Their tears were cool and pure, like water for a fevered man, they washed away the pain and in their wake left peace and the knowledge that they had won and they were alive.

After a while, the tears ceased and they looked into each other’s face for a moment.

“You know, you kind of look like Sissy Spacek at the end of “Carrie,” Alec commented dryly reaching out to clean the blood off her face with his hand. Buffy chuckled and wiped some blood from Alec’s face.

“Hell, so do you, Alec,” She replied smiling, deliberately rubbing her hand against his eyes and nose. He swatted her hand away and placed a kiss on it, chuckling.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic. Can you walk?” he asked her. Buffy nodded and got to her feet slowly and very unsteadily. She turned to look down at her brother,

“Okay, that’s me. How about you?” she asked. Alec chuckled and nodded,

“Yeah, just give me a second to get the pins and needles out of my legs from you sitting on them,” he retorted wryly then stopped when he noticed the look on Buffy’s face.

“What?” he asked.

“I haven’t been sitting on your legs,” she replied quietly. Alec frowned in disbelief,

“But…I can’t feel my legs” he whispered. He struggled to his feet trying to push himself up, with a cry Buffy raced to him helping him to his feet…only to have to hold him up as his legs gave way from underneath him.

“My legs…I can’t…move my legs,” Alec talked, pale and terrified. Buffy shook her head violently,

“It’s nothing. We’ll wait until your regenerative abilities kick in,” she began to cry as over and over she’d lift him up only to have him fall. Finally in a cry of frustration, she dropped him he landed heavily into a chair cracking his back against the wood. Buffy sank to her knees weeping,

“No, oh no, oh Alec, oh I’m so sorry,” she looked up at him her eyes tear stained, “It’s my fault. I should have covered you when that thing smashed the ground and the shockwave came,”

“You didn’t have time,” Alec replied evenly, regaining some of his composure. “If you had tried to make it back to me, the shockwave would have hit us both and we would both be dead,” he took her chin and forced her eyes to meet his, “You saved us, and I for one am grateful.” He looked down at his now-useless legs, “Besides, Spike managed to recover from his time in a wheelchair and if that great lout can…” he smiled.

Buffy despite herself laughed and wiped at her eyes, “Cheap shot, but okay. Maybe Willow or Marlena can do something about it,” Alec nodded, clinging to that hope as well.

Buffy reached down and helped her brother to his feet. He grunted in pain as she looked around the now blood-stained temple,

“Boy, that Rabbi is going to be….” Her voice trailed off as she and her brother had the same thought.

“I was wondering where he’d gone,” Alec mumbled quietly as they scanned the room for any sign of the young Rabbi. Buffy gestured to a door then lurched as the movement threw the weakened pair off balance. She placed a hand steadying on his chest and nodded towards the door.

“Let’s try there,” the pair hobbled towards the door, upon reaching it Buffy grasped the doorknob and twisted hard.

“Locked,” she commented rubbing her hand gingerly and trying to cover the wound on top of it at the same time. Alec lurched forward and plowed a large steel hammerhead into the door splintering it and sending it flying open. A rancid smell nearly bowled them both over. Buffy nearly retched but was mindful of dropping her brother, who was busy transmuting the hammer back into a hand.

Lying face down on the floor was the body of a young man dressed in the trappings of a Rabbi.

“Uh-oh,” Buffy commented, Alec peered at the corpse,

“Judging by the flies, condition of the corpse and the-“ he coughed, “-smell. I’d say this man’s been dead a good long while.” Conjuring a sword-blade from his hand, he gently slid the flat of the blade up under the face of the corpse to turn it over, then frowned when he felt resistance.

“Uh, it’s stuck,” he commented. Buffy made a face,

“Could this get any more yucky?” She asked, helping Alec get a better leverage and together, putting their weight behind it.

There was a loud ripping sound and with a thump, the body flopped over onto its back. Buffy immediately retched with Alec not far behind.

The front half of the skull was missing. Not only the face but the muscle tissue and even the front of the skull was gone. It was if his entire face down to the brain was scooped out of his head.

Coughing, trying to ignore the smell coming out of the cadaver, as well as the shreds of flesh lingering on the floor where the body has been fused to the floor, Alec leaned over as best he could and fingered a medallion; the Star of David, around the corpses neck.

“This is definitely the Rabbi and he’s been dead a heck of a lot longer than we were gone,” he informed his pale sister.

“Which means the Rabbi we met was an imposter,” she replied. Alec sighed,

“Houston, we have a problem.”

The ragged pair, still caked in dried blood from their time in the Nightmare Realm, hobbled towards the doors. Buffy, still carrying her now-paralyzed brother leaned forward to open it.

An explosion of light followed by a deafening roar as a spotlight from a helicopter painted them in a burst of blinding light. Buffy and Alec shielded their eyes vainly, blinking back a world of multi-colored blobs from their eyes. As their vision cleared, an amplified voice rang out,

“This is the NYPD, throw down your weapons and lie down on your stomachs. Now!”

“Yes, Houston,” Alec commented stunned at the sea of shotgun-toting policemen that had appeared, “We definitely have a problem.”

The police readied their weapons to fire,

“This is your last chance,” the amplified voice called out to the bloodied pair, “Surrender. NOW!”

The light from the police helicopter above bathed the street in white light, giving the scene a surreal glow. Buffy turned to her brother, putting a hand to her eyes to see him as the choppers light backlit him, blinding her.

“Any suggestions?” she asked, weary and afraid. Alec nodded,

“Just one,” he rasped quietly, his whole body a combination of numbing dread and pain from wounds too numerous to count. Reaching deeply inside himself he focused on the whirling darkness in the center of his heart, the blood that flowed through him howled in response, slick and hungry. Alec’s body went chill then numb as he opened his eyes, now pools of swirling darkness. Buffy drew back instinctively as Alec threw his head back and howled, an eerie, low-pitched sound that rang on and on like a tolling bell for the dead.

And the darkness answered him.

Every streetlight that cast a shadow, every neon light that threw a patch of darkness, even the shadows of the policemen, cast by the colored lights of their own cruisers flooded the area answering the call, swirled around Alec lifting him high into the air. Buffy gasped as Alec's clothes rippled around him, no longer cloth but the non-material of shadow. The darkness lifted him up in a pillar of swirling cold blackness and bringing his hands out before him, Alec lashed out and the pillar exploded into a wave of darkness washing over the policemen. Their screams were choked off midway as the thick cold tendrils of blackness pushed themselves down their throats choking them, into their eyes blinding them, up their nostrils suffocating them. Blood flowed from jaws as teeth were shattered in violated mouths and nostrils bled from the forcible intrusion.

Buffy watched the scene in horror as the policeman flailed and gurgled.

“Stop it, you’re killing them!” she screamed up at Alec. Alec, unheeding, brought his hand forward palm up, fingers tensed. The darkness hummed and tightened in response, bones began to crack as he slowly closed his fist.

“ALEC!” Buffy shrieked. Alec started violently, releasing his hold on the darkness, which fled instantly, free of the shackles of the shadowmancer’s will. He fell to the ground hard as the policemen retched and coughed attempting to deal with the aftermath of the grotesque violation of their bodies. Buffy limped to her brother and helped him up, his eyelids fluttered and his eyes, now human, were glazed and feverish. He shivered and licked at his lips, cold sweat coating his face.

“Run,” he croaked. Buffy picked him up and rocketed toward an alley as the first of the police officers began to regain their bearings and were clearly in a state of rage. A gunshot followed by a spray of concrete fragments against Buffy’s back informed her of that much as she looked past her shoulder at a good-sized hole that had manifested just above her in a wall.

Turning down an alley she fled until her lungs burned and her veins pumped battery acid. Her crippled brother’s weight was like a cold corpse in her arms.

“Buffy…leave me,” he rasped. Buffy stopped short in shock.

“You can’t be serious,” she gaped at him. Alec took her hand in his.

“I can hide myself and you need to tell Dad what’s happened,” he rasped. Buffy shook her head vehemently.

“Not going to happen,” she growled. The sounds of dogs barking caused them both to look behind them; flashlight beams heralded the imminent arrival of the police.

“You have to go, Buffy. I can’t walk, but I can hide,” he gestured to a pile of refuse near a large puddle and a cyclone wire fence.

“Put me there,” he croaked. Buffy growled under her breath,

“I just can’t leave you here-“

“Do as I say!” Alec snarled looking up into her eyes, “Please,” he added his face softening as he reached up to touch his sister’s. She took his hand in his, sniffling, “You’ve always been the strong one, Buffy. Just this once, let me be strong.”

Buffy clenched her eyes in denial as hot tears of pain seared down her face. She had heard those words before, when someone else she loved was preparing to die.

She almost didn’t notice it until it was on top of them, a snarling dog, mouth frothing, teeth bared and hungry, turned around the corner and charged. She threw a hand up to defend her brother, who in turn had snatched up a trash can lid and caught the beast across the head as it lunged for his sister’s throat. The dog yelped in pain and skidded to the pavement where it lay still. Buffy turned shocked eyes to her brother who tossed the now-bloody lid away and wiped away some of the dried blood and filth from his face.

“Go,” he whispered. Buffy swallowed hard and nodded; grabbing a handful of fence she climbed up, over and dropped to the other side as Alec leaned his head against the cold stone wall. She stuck her hand through the fence and he took it, grasping it white-knuckled.

“Don’t forget about me,” he whispered. Buffy nodded,

“We’re coming back for you,” she replied hoarsely. The sounds of the approaching police were getting louder.

“Go!” Alec yelled and with a last look of burning pain, Buffy fled leaving her brother behind.

Alec watched her until she turned the corner and was out of sight before sagging against the wall, finally allowing the pain and fear he had been feeling all night to show. His hands shook as he rubbed himself, vainly attempting to banish the cold fear that lingered now in his heart; he’d almost killed those men…and he’d enjoyed it.

He heard it then, a high-pitched peal of laughter. Alec whirled around,

“Who’s there?” he demanded. The laughter subsided slightly but the tone was one of unmistakably malicious amusement.

“Oh you know me, Alec. You just won’t admit it yet,” Alec saw a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye, he whirled around but his now crippled body betrayed him and he fell hard to the ground, his head coming to rest by the large puddle, whose surface swirled with the polluted rainbow of toxic chemicals,

“But don’t worry, Alec. You will,” Alec looked down at the pool of water from the corner of his eye, only to see a huge shape rise up from behind him. With a cry, he lashed out his arm, a sword appearing to replace his hand.

There was nothing.

“Drop the knife!” A voice demanded, Alec turned and was blinded by an onslaught of bright beams emitting from several flashlights. Alec looked up the sword attached to his arm, the only thing in the alley which did not reflect any of the light and brought it down to banish it.

He never heard the shot, only felt a hard impact in his shoulder, a loud CRACK and suddenly he was lying on his back, bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Alec opened and closed his mouth in shock like a beached fish. Figures swam in and out of view. A hand descended, a weapon, a flash of pain, bones broke, more pain, more hands, more weapons. Alec couldn’t make sense of any of it. Dimly he felt the blows rain upon him, a final blow came across his face, a flash of white, a spray of blood and then blessed darkness, followed by a lingering whisper.

“You will know me…Alec.”


Buffy watched in horror as the police first shot, then beat Alec savagely with their clubs. Her resolve had broken and she had turned back when she heard him cry out and arrived just in time to watch her brother’s assault. Biting her lip she banished the tears she felt coming. There would be no more tears.

There would now only be revenge.

“They picked the wrong family to screw with,” Buffy growled, the fires of hell burning in her eyes as she watched the police heft her brother’s gory body up and out of the alley.

Buffy hobbled down the labyrinthine alleyways, colliding into trashcans and tripping over mangy cats that shrieked and hissed at her. She cringed at all the noise and hoped that those pursuing her would not hear it and attack her.

Like they had Alec.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and dragged her now-broken nails against her palm, drawing blood, focusing on the pain instead of the grief. The sky opened up and a cold, foul-smelling rain drizzled down upon her. She lifted her face to it, hoping the rain would cool and cleanse her, but the polluted water merely streaked the blood and filth further down her face and body, offering a cold, clammy touch instead of comfort.

She rested against a rusted dumpster, swatting away a clutch of cockroaches and sagging against the soiled metal. Buffy brought her hands up and down her arms to stave off the cold that seeped deep into her. She was tired, desperately so. The Nightmare Realm had punished her more brutally than any other experience she could remember. Coupled with Alec’s bizarre assault on the police, their flight and her brother’s subsequent beating and capture had left her an exhausted ruin. She ran a shaking hand through her soiled hair, tearing and ripping at the snarls and tangles there, the pain was trivial in comparison and was barely felt through her fatigue and the cacophony of other injuries she had suffered. With a sigh, she reached up grabbing hold of the rim of the dumpster, doing her best to ignore the wet, rotted feel of the metal.

The club came down hard on her already injured arm, eliciting a scream of pain from the girl. Buffy landed hard on the slick pavement, looking up in shock at the policeman that had somehow managed to sneak up on her. The man grinned grotesquely,

“Do yourself a favor, missy, stay down,” he chortled. In some part of Buffy’s agonized mind, she noted that the man still wore the trademark “law-enforcement” sunglasses even though it was long since night.

The man raised his club up again, and Buffy growled, swinging out a leg sweep, catching the man behind the kneecaps and causing his legs to fold up from under him. Buffy surged upward, running solely on rage and adrenaline, and smashed an elbow into the man’s throat. He gagged as his head fell in reflex. Buffy grabbed the man and slammed a fist hard into his gut. A loud WHOOSH signaled that the now gasping man’s lungs had deflated. Buffy followed up the combination with a punishing backhand, breaking his jaw and sending his sunglasses flying away from his bleeding face in pieces. Buffy turned to look and her blood turned to ice,

The man’s eyes were lined with jaundice yellow, tinged with the red of madness. No sanity lurked in them and they were filled with an unthinking rage. He screamed, an odd sound to hear from a psychotic man with a broken jaw, and lashed out with his hand, now filled with some kind of device. Twin wires shot out and pierced the young slayer followed by a brain-melting blast of paralyzing electricity. Buffy couldn’t even scream as the muscles in her jaw locked up and her body collapsed. The insane man cackled as he continued to pump dose after dose of high-voltage agony into her torn body. Buffy jerked and whimpered as she felt her life begin to slip away from her.

The policeman had time to blink as a bestial roar filled the air then he was flying through the air and his last memory before unconsciousness took him was a close up of a brick wall rushing up to meet him.

Strong hands lifted Buffy up gingerly. She felt cool hands clean her face and shield it from the rain.

“Buffy,” a strong voice called from somewhere. The voice promised safety and protection. She opened her eyes weakly,

“Angel,” she croaked. Angel held her to him, kissing her hair as Buffy sobbed in relief. Angel hefted Buffy up into his arms and took off down the alley. Buffy rested against him, shaking and cold, but for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she felt safe.

It was quickly shattered when a huge SWAT APC burst through the brick wall in front of them like it was wet tissue paper and barreled down towards them. Angel wasted no time and with a heft, leapt high into the air landing on a second story fire escape and began to charge up the side of the black iron latticework. He quickly reached the top of the fire escape and realized he was trapped now at five stories up. He searched frantically for an alternative as the massive vehicle below rumbled towards them.

“Hold on to me,” he whispered harshly to Buffy, who only nodded as Angel braced his legs and launched himself over the edge of the rail, cradling Buffy. He flew through the space separating two buildings and smashed apart the rusted metal rail of another fire escape. His feet almost shot out from under him when they made contact with the rain slicked metal. There was a terrifying moment of vertigo as he felt himself beginning to fall backwards down five stories, before he lashed out with his hand, catching a piece of metal. His hand was sliced open and he gasped in pain, but he held firm and dragged himself and Buffy back onto safety. Checking on Buffy, ensuring that she was all right, he was astonished to see her smiling weakly up at him,

“Nice one, Tarzan,” she whispered. Angel cracked a smile and kissed her on the forehead gently before charging up the stairs, arriving on the roof.

Angel paused a moment to peer down over the side of the building, they were now a good nine stories up in the air. The massive tank-machine was milling around beneath them. Angel smiled as he imagined the frustration of the people operating it.

And with a roar of sound and an explosion of light, a helicopter burst up over the edge of the roof, blinding and deafening them. No words of warning were given as someone within the flying machine opened up on them with an automatic weapon. Angel dashed along the rooftop, his feet being nipped at by high caliber weapon fire as the helicopter bent low and followed, nose nearly scraping the roof as the whirling blades sliced closer to the fleeing pair.

As Angel reached the edge, there was no hesitation as he soared through the air and landed hard on the rooftop beyond. He rolled, doing his best to absorb most of the impact, shielding Buffy. He turned his head, his brown eyes blinded by light as the helicopter gave chase. The machine gun opened up again and Angel fled with inhuman speed. The rounds from the weapon chewed up the roof, spitting hot shrapnel against Angel’s back and legs. He grimaced but continued to keep up a pace that would kill a human, staying just ahead of the swirling rotor blades. Angel could feel the droplets of water which the whirling blades splashed at him with each rotation. He reached the edge of this rooftop, leapt, landed on another rolling to his feet and kept going.

Almost there, he thought to himself as he flew through the city air and rain. He wiped at his face, surprised to find blood there from a bullet wound. Undeterred, he dashed forwards, leaping again to cross onto another building. A burst of pain in his knee caused him to stumble and he nearly didn’t make the jump as he realized that he had been shot. He threw his weight forward in mid-air and his momentum carried them both skidding across the rooftop. Buffy fell from his arms and proceeded to bounce across the concrete painfully. Angel crawled over to her, his knee a bloody ruin from a bullet that had caught him mid-air. He covered as much of her body as possible with his own, hoping to absorb as many bullets as his dead body could. The helicopter hovered over them, a single spotlight glaring at them balefully like a blinding eye. Angel heard the click-clack of the reloaded weapon. He squeezed his eyes shut, his last thought wondering what in hell had gone wrong.

And with a war cry, a ceiling hatch opened and Spike burst out like a peroxide blond explosion, leather duster whipping around him, brandishing a crackling electrical wire.

“JUMP!” He roared at Buffy and Angel as the helicopter began to veer away from this new threat. Spike smashed the cockpit spotlight and jabbed the sparking wire into it as Angel scrambled painfully to his feet and scooped up Buffy. He limped to the edge of the roof. A blinding surge of light followed by an explosion knocked Angel and Buffy up and over the edge the roof, smoking as Spike and the helicopter jerked and sizzled.

Angel held Buffy to him, and as the ground rushed up to meet them both he whispered a prayer to anyone who would hear him that the plan worked.

There was a loud WHOOSH and then suddenly their plummet was jarred to a painful stop in mid-air. For a moment, confusion washed over Angel as he lay face down peering at the city several stories beneath them yet they were no longer falling and had indeed landed on something quite firm, if not immediately visible. Then it dawned on him, he was resting inside the wings of a huge bird made of transparent crystal stone. The creature lifted its head up to examine the pair.

“Marlena sends her regards,” the creature murmured. Angel just nodded tiredly. An explosion of light on the rooftop caught his eye, and he turned to see Spike blasted clean off the roof and plummet toward the earth below like a shooting star.

“Spike!” Angel yelled out. Then he saw the helicopter sputtering and smoking begin to fall to earth.

“Hold on,” the bird growled. Angel found purchases in the bird’s stony breast and clung to it desperately as the bird rolled over. The helicopter collided into a series of power lines and the whole thing went up in an explosion of fire and twisted metal. The bird screeched and gained speed, climbing high into the air to escape the fireball, its transparent body tinted by flame causing it to resemble nothing so much as a phoenix lifting high into the night. Angel gritted his teeth until the sound of porcelain cracking filled his ears and held on to Buffy and the bird with white knuckled tension. The bird folded its wings over the couple as the fire overtook them. Angel gasped in horror, as there was fire in every direction that he could see separated only by the bird’s transparent body. With a final screech, the bird exploded up from the fireball and extended its wings, sailing high above the blaze. Angel sighed in relief.

“Angel?” a weak voice whispered. Angel turned to its source,

“Yeah Buffy?”

“Are we underneath a giant diamond bird?”

“Yeah.”

“Are we still on fire?”

Angel shook his head, “No,” he assured her.

Buffy smiled, “Okay, good,”

At which point she promptly fainted. Angel chuckled and kissed her head as the pair soared away into the night.



The first thing that he was aware of was that his teeth were vibrating. The second thing he was aware of was that something was burning.

The third thing that he was aware of was that it was he who was burning.

Spike groaned and opened his eyes. If he’d had working lungs he have coughed, the smell was unbelievable.

“Coming up, extra crispy, side of scorched flesh,” he mumbled and looked around painfully. He was sitting in a broken windshield ten or so stories down from where he had been. The explosion had rocketed him into this car and the impact had managed to snap the cars axle like a twig.

“Hope this guy has insurance,” he muttered as he took stock of his injuries. His hands were a mass of burnt skin, his face was a little crispy as well. Eyebrows were a distant memory apparently, and his eyelashes had gone with them. His jacket was a fused mess of cloth, leather and bits of skin,

“Damn,” he swore, surveying his ruined garment, “Red better be able to magic up some thread and needlework here.” He chuckled despite himself and looked around, then he laughed outright. The helicopter was a flaming ruin, suspended by a few high-tension electrical wires and cooked inside and out.

“Yeah, that’s right. Manchester United one, NYPD zero,” he muttered and hoisted himself out of the windshield grimacing, “Bloody Hell, I’m going to be picking glass out of my arse for weeks,” Fishing through his pockets, he sighed in relief; his lighter and smokes were still intact. Lighting up, he took a deep drag and exhaled, attempting to swagger away.

“And more, much more than this, I did it my way…” Chuckling, the vampire’s singing faded into the air, leaving only the sound of burning metal and oncoming sirens.


Alec could dimly recall the sensation of being dragged, none too gently, by his under arms and deposited into something hard, a chair most likely. A burning light blasted into his face and his eyes opened of their own volition. They vainly tried to focus when a brutal punch across his face helped complete the task. His mouth throbbed and his teeth felt loose as the shadowmancer spat out a glob of blood and looked up past the light into his tormentors.

One of them was morbidly obese and cleaning his knuckles with a soiled white handkerchief, the other was razor blade thin with a hawkish face and piercing dark eyes. Alec felt a chill; he didn’t know which one was more terrifying, the fat man whose eyes informed all that he was clearly insane, or the thin man whose eyes said that he clearly wasn’t.

The air tasted thick and pasty, like sweat and unwashed men. An extra layer of cigarette smoke gelled up inside Alec’s mouth and he coughed at the rancid taste of the air. The smell was roughly in the same ballpark, sweat, rotting food, stale beer…and something else, something almost tantalizing. Alec’s eyes went wide and his blood went from chilled to ice, a sudden flashback to the house from Hell in the Nightmare Realm exploding in his mind like a diamond bullet shot into his forehead.

Violence. It was the scent of bestial, unthinking, violence.

“Killed a Rabbi, did you, kid,” the fat man asked, chuckling, jowls jiggling obscenely. Alec glared up at him. The man must not have appreciated it because he crashed another blow across Alec’s face; the young man dimly felt the bones in his nose bend then crack then shatter as his vision filled with red. Alec coughed hard as the thin man smirked,

“I don’t believe he appreciated that, Eddie, now say you’re sorry,” the thin man instructed. Alec looked up at him, his words confirming Alec’s suspicions, the thin man wasn’t insane.

Which meant that he was purely evil.

Further hypotheses had to wait as the fat man wrapped his hand around Alec’s shattered nose and began to twist. The sound of cartilage cracking filled the room as Alec bit his lip until it bled to keep from screaming, tears filling his eyes.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” the fat man chortled, breathing stale onions and sweat into Alec’s face. He released the younger man, who gasped and choked spitting up blood. The fat man grimaced.

“Christ. Friggin’ disgusting, I’m telling you,” he sneered. Alec held up a hand in supplication.

“I don’t suppose a phone call would be a possibility,” he commented dryly. Alec got a grim satisfaction in watching the fat man’s red face turn even redder as his eyebrows shot up to disappear in the greasy wrinkles of his forehead. The man stomped over to a telephone resting on a small desk, tore it out of the wall and proceeded to smash Alec upside the head with it.

Bright white light exploded in Alec’s head as he fell to the floor hard, his mind swimming with what was probably a concussion. He tried hard to clear it, trying to make sense of the situation as his father would.

What is going on? How is this happening? I’ve never seen anyone behave like this, let alone cops. Dimly, he wondered if his treatment constituted police brutality or if they had transcended into cruel and unusual torture.

A swift kick in the stomach banished any further musings as Alec folded up, or tried to as best he could with his crippled legs unresponsive.

“Get up, you freakin’ sicko!” the fat man roared down at him. Alec chuckled at the pot/kettle irony of that comment despite himself, which only further enraged the man.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do ya, punk?” he sneered before bringing a size eleven shoe down on Alec’s head. Alec’s head bounced off the concrete floor; at this point he was seeing two of everything and working on three. He rolled over onto his back and as the shoe came down again, Alec lashed out with a hand, correctly guessing which shoe was real and which was a hallucination brought upon by his multiple injuries. He twisted and shoved hard and with a wildebeest-like bellow of rage, the man went down with a colossal THUD. Alec snorted quietly and mentally gave himself a point.

Five greasy digits appeared on the desk as the fat man hauled himself up, the desk creaking in protest.

Strong desk, Alec thought wryly, then he began to worry as the fat man grinned, looking completely insane.

“Assaulting an officer of the law is a felony, you know,” he informed the brutalized man. Alec just nodded,

“Yeah, so is police brutality and physical torture, I hear,” he replied. He looked over at the thin man who was casually watching, apparently enjoying the show quite a bit.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, do ya, punk?” the fat man snarled. Alec looked up at him through swollen eyes and grinned,

"Working your way through ‘Dirty Harry’ movies,” Alec turned to the thin man and managed a wink through his swollen eyes, “I’m a big Eastwood fan,” he turned back to Eddie, “ ‘Course hearing a two-bit pretender like you butcher it is really more painful than the beating,” he quipped lightly, determined to do his best to make things miserable for his captors. He vainly searched for even a tiny patch of darkness in the room to use against his tormentors but the force of the light had banished any hope.

A meaty hand grabbed onto his face holding it in place as Eddie removed a can of mace from his belt. Alec sighed,

This is going to suck.

The man sprayed Alec’s eyes, prying open the swollen tissue to abuse his blood-tinged corneas with the blinding spray. Next it was forced up his shattered nose and sprayed, then down his throat. The man clamped a hand over Alec’s broken nose and bleeding mouth, grinding bones and suffocating him as Alec swooned from the pain, his face on fire, his blood screaming for air.

Help me…someone…

Angel had lost all sense of time as the bird flew over the cityscape, listening to the beating of the massive stone wings and the gentle whooshing of the wind that followed.

“We have arrived,” the bird rumbled, “The transition to the gypsy kingdom will be difficult for the breathing girl, blood-drinker,” Angel bristled slightly at this but held his tongue, “Do not awaken her,” the creature concluded, leaving little room for argument. Angel tightened his grip on Buffy,

“What do you mean ‘difficult?” Angel asked as the bird began to climb higher into the air, “And why are we climbing?” the vampire continued frustrated, then gaped as the bird turned over onto his back and dove screeching towards the ground,

“Oh this is really fast!” he yelled out trying to hear himself over the roar of the wind as the bird folded its wings once again over the pair creating an air-tight cocoon around them and changing himself into a diamond bullet.

The clouds parted revealing a large lake. Angel swallowed, hoping desperately that this was all part of some kind of plan and not the bird having a sudden psychotic break. With the sound of a class four tornado touching down into a wading pool, the bird shattered the surface of the water dousing three joggers, two homeless men and a peanut vendor in a great deluge of water leaving them in soggy confusion.

The vampire gaped openly at the sight of all the rushing water around him. The bird had been right, even in the cocoon of his wings those who needed to breathe would be more than a little disconcerted by the claustrophobic feelings involved in being in a water-filled tunnel underground.

Of course, the fact that they were traveling at speeds that could suck the air out of a person’s lungs didn’t help matters.

With a final burst of water and a deafening screech, the bird exploded out of a water pipe and unfurled its wings, dousing the area with water. Angel looked around in surprised recognition; they had exited out into the aqueduct catwalk of the Spaarti tribal lair upon which they had fought the Khulghaani.

Several pairs of heads turned to regard the awesome spectacle of the huge diamond bird, its body shining prismatic rainbows caused by the mist of the crashing water as it finished its screeching call and perched onto the stone walk. Angel helped the still-unconscious Buffy into the waiting arms of several gypsies who gently laid her down and began to examine her wounds. With a yelp, the soaked vampire fell from his perch upon the indifferent bird’s chest, which looked down at him with infinite disdain. A sodden heap, Angel lifted his head to the sound of heavily sardonic clapping.

“Oh yeah, nice one, mate,” Spike commented wryly, smoking a cigarette and chortling his ass off, Angel glared up at him balefully though the elder vampire was glad to see the other intact and unhurt from his fiery plummet,

“You see, Spike, that’s always been your problem. Most people have the decency to die after plummeting to earth in a fiery explosion,” Angel bit out. Spike laughed and clapped his hands, his cigarette dangling between smirking lips,

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I’ve always been bad,” Spike quipped as he helped the soaked Angel to his feet, “Rough commute?” he asked wryly, Angel nodded,

“Lots of flying and diving at high speeds, bad combination. Way to take your time incidentally with that power line. I thought the plan was for you to already be waiting,” Spike’s expression darkened as he casually opened his shirt,

“I got hung up,” he quipped, Angel’s eyes widened. Embedded in Spike’s chest were no less than six slugs like tiny fists of lead protruding from his chest. Spike walked over to the prone Buffy as Angel whistled low, turning to face the pair,

“I take it you ran afoul our boys in blue?” Spike snorted as the gypsies that examined Buffy peeled her jacket off slowly. They swore quietly, “Bloody Hell,” Spike whispered thickly,

Buffy’s body was a collection of slashes, bruises and obvious broken bones, all soaked in blood. Spike reared up to Angel,

“Why didn’t you soddin’ tell me she was this hurt?” he roared. Angel looked just as aghast,

“I didn’t know,” he replied.

“Out of the way!” a voice called out. DeGanon shoved his way past everyone to view the battered slayer. He crossed himself and whispered a prayer as he put a hand to her brow; she moaned her eyelids fluttering,

“She has a fever and her wounds are numerous. Her sleep is sickened and filled with wounds from her battle,” DeGanon hoisted the girl up as if she weighed nothing and carried out towards the recovery room, “Where is her brother?” DeGanon demanded as they traveled hurriedly down the hall,

“Yeah, that’s what I’d like to know too, traded Red a guarantee on her boy’s safety provided she fix my coat, where is the great idiot?” Spike’s tone betrayed his concern for his friend as Angel shrugged,

“I didn’t see them together, they must have gotten separated after we left them with the Rabbi,” Spike growled in frustration and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans, puffing madly on his cigarette as DeGanon kicked open a large set of doors to a see of concerned faces,

“Buffy!” Dawn cried out as she rushed to her sister’s battered body, limp and pale, as DeGanon laid her down upon a bed.

“Good lord,” Giles whispered, his face turning to ash as he regarded her. Her wounds were both grievous and too numerous to count. Angel turned to Dawn,

“Where are the others?” Dawn tore her eyes from the mangled body of her sister,

“They’re sleeping, why-“

“Get them!” Angel ordered. Dawn nodded and hurried away as DeGanon looked up to catch Giles’s eyes,

“We need clean water, bandages and some of the poultice given to us by the Undying One,” he instructed the Watcher. Giles’s nodded and hurried away as DeGanon turned to Spike,

“Help me undress her,” he ordered, Spike look taken aback,

“Hey, now, wait a minute…”

“Spike! Open wounds, filthy clothes, do the math,” Angel barked out. Spike grimaced,

“All right, all right,” Quickly the three of them peeled the gory, filth-encrusted garments from her, Spike and Angel glaring at each other the whole time. DeGanon tossed the disgusting tatters to Angel,

“Burn those,” he instructed then placed a clean sheet across her body just as Dawn came rushing back with Faith, Xander, Anya and Willow,

“Buffy!” Willow cried out in despair seeing her friend’s condition. Xander rushed over to her,

“Buff! Can you hear me? Aw, geez. C’mon, Buffy, snap out of it,” he choked out, pushing her hair out of her face. Anya gently put a hand on his shoulder leading him away.

“She’s going to be fine, she’s Buffy, she’ll be fine…” Xander mumbled to himself over and over mantra-like, Anya could only nod and stroke Xander soothingly as Faith came to the older slayer stricken,

“Buffy…” Faith whispered, her scarred face twisted in misery,” Willow gripped Faith’s hand in hers and squeezed Buffy’s blood-encrusted hand with white-knuckled intensity. Dawn kissed her sister on the forehead, weeping quietly,

“She’ll be okay, won’t she? “ She looked around and saw little hope in the faces, “Won’t she?!” chokingly. Faith sighed,

“D, it looks like someone beat the hell out of her and then carved her up like a turkey. There’s some serious damage, I don’t even think Shadowboy could heal…” Faith’s voice trailed off as the identical thought entered everyone’s mind. Dawn’s face transformed itself from misery and grief to something that was too intense for words,

“Where’s Alec?” she gritted out tightly.




Alec coughed, his mouth so full of blood it choked him. He’d lost track of time since the beating, and there were no windows in the dank concrete room, so there was no way to see if this hellish night had transformed into a hellish morning.

Then again, mornings tend to suck regardless, he commented to himself wryly, chuckling.

Another sharp blow knocked him to the floor again; he didn’t even have the strength to moan anymore, let alone scream. He dimly saw now-familiar brown shoes walk towards him and he toyed with the idea of driving something sharp through the cop’s kneecap, just as he’d toyed with the idea all night. Every time, his blood surged and sang at the prospect of violence and every time, what was left of his cool logic reminded him that he had no way of getting out of here.

Now that he was a cripple.

He choked back the shame, the humiliation of the situation, which hurt more than any of the blows.

A swift kick landed just beneath Alec’s waist. The young man gasped as tears leaked out of his eyes.

Well, maybe not, that last shot hurt more.

“Now, here’s what I can’t understand,” Eddie laughed and flipped over the paralyzed younger man, who looked up at him,

“What’s that, Eddie?” Alec asked him cordially, trying to retain some shreds of dignity, his inherited accent helping slightly. Eddie pushed hard with the toe of his shoe on Alec’s shoulder eliciting a groan from the other man,

“How is it that a limey punk like you can take getting your ass kicked so completely on top of getting a round in the shoulder?” Alec cracked a grin,

“Clean living, officer and a healthy respect for the law. You should try it,” Alec grinned as once again, the fat man reared up and took a meaty handful of shirt and skin, pulling out a few chest hairs and smashed Alec atop the desk. Clumsily, he tore open Alec’s shirt as the wounded man laughed,

“What? No dinner and movie first?” he cracked dryly as Eddie tore away the shreds of cloth and jerked Alec’s shoulder up to the light, almost tearing the desk lamp out of the wall as he aimed the light at the boy’s flesh, the thin man coming up to peer curiously.

Where there was once a gaping bleeding hole, there was now only a lump of angry red flesh showing up flushed and crimson in the florescent light. Eddie gaped at Alec and even the thin man’s eyes widened. Alec met the pair’s shocked glance and weakly put a finger to his lips,

“Shhh it’s a secret…” he rasped his voice trailing off from a hiss to a throaty chuckle.

BAM! Eddie slammed a ham-sized fist into Alec’s stomach, causing a burst of blood to spurt out of his lips with such force as to splatter Eddie’s face as well as the ceiling.

“What are you?” Eddie cried out clearly losing what little restraint and sanity he had his lips frothing and his gut heaving rapidly in time with his breath, which was in great wheezing with great breaths.

“Wishing for a video camera and a jury of my peers,” Alec replied, feeling a slight sense of victory, clearly he was holding it together better than his captors.

Another blow landed and Alec felt something break inside and come loose,

So much for ‘holding it together’

The thin man peered frowning at Eddie’s face and Alec felt a slimmer of hope between punches that perhaps the thin man was finally disconcerted by his cohort's psychotic behavior.

The hope died right around when the thin man dabbed lightly at Eddie’s face and came back sniffing his fingers frowning in puzzlement. Alec’s brain was too badly fogged with pain and fatigue to understand the action and he felt the crashing weight of despair weighing down on him threatening to break him.

There was a rap at the door, Alec strained, hoping against hope that perhaps not everyone in the station was a psychopath, but Eddie clamped a hand over Alec’s mouth, a difficult proposition as Alec’s badly broken nose and almost shattered jaw had swollen the tissue far beyond its normal size. The thin man answered it and conversed briefly for a few moments before returning.

“The gentlemen from explosives and ordinance have arrived,” Eddie laughed, bringing his hand up off of Alec’s mouth,

“Terrific. How was our haul?” The thin man smiled. “And what happened to the guys that came with?”

The smile ran cold. Alec looked at them with as much shock he could manage,

“You killed cops? Your own?” Eddie shrugged casually,

“If you want to make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs, the goodies we got in there will flush out your gypsy buddies like rats,” Alec’s swollen eyes widened a little more and Eddie laughed at his fear and anguish,

“Yeah that’s right, we know all about your little friends down in the pipes,” Eddie beamed at the thin man like a puppy dog begging for a treat, the thin man merely nodded and waved a hand dismissively. Alec’s panicked and pain-fogged brain dimly registered the sheer regal disdain in the thin man’s face and gestures, not something you see in a psychotic civil servant.

I have to get out of here, I have to warn them. Gritting his teeth, trying to ignore the pain that had him swimming in and out of unconsciousness, Alec tightened his fist, feeling the heat of bloodlust swim up through his body, dark and slick, and with it the cold steel that answer the call, filling the veins of his arm with quicksilver. Three small points of metal began to peek through the skin between his knuckles. Eddie was distracted and the thin man looked bored, the time to strike was now. With a burst of speed and desperation, he knocked Eddie’s hand away and with a roar…

…The door came flying open an explosion of blond hair and fury. The thin man went down hard when a brutal chop caught him hard across the temple followed by a sharp knee to the groin that folded him up in an instant. Eddie’s mouth sagged open as he spun around, which knocked Alec to the floor, face down upon the concrete,

“Ow,” he commented mildly, muffled by the floor. He turned his head toward what was happening and was rewarded greatly.

Eddie was standing up, body stiff as a rod and vibrating hard, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, drool spewing out of his mouth as the fat in his face and body jiggled madly. He dropped like a sack of lard revealing a small muscular woman holding something.

“Buffy?” Alec whispered weakly. The woman gently turned him over,

“Jesus Christ,” it didn’t sound like Buffy. She was touching his face and she had put something back onto her belt. She took his pulse, checked his breathing, both weren’t doing really well. Alec coughed and the woman wiped the blood from his mouth to keep him from choking. Her cool touch was like that of an angel and he nearly wept save the fact that he didn’t have the strength.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” the woman told him. Alec couldn’t even acknowledge it. The woman hoisted Alec up, the light shining in her eyes briefly, bringing them into full view. Clearly this was a woman in her late twenties to early thirties.

The beam of light also blinded her and kept her from seeing the thin man rising smoothly to his feet and brandishing a switchblade.

Angel, Spike, Faith and Xander stood before the police station with Willow in the lead, the redhead’s face washed in an eerie green glow.

A glow that was shining near blindingly bright as they stood before the squat four-story building.

Willow peered at the building, then back at the glowing badge before nodding and stuffing it into her back pocket. The sudden darkness felt oppressive, plumes of steam rose from the mouths of those that breathed. Those that did not remained cold and unmoving.

“All right. So, we know the plan?” Faith asked.

Spike nodded. “Make with the death, Terminator-Style,” he replied grinning despite himself.

Faith sighed; she wasn’t much of a tactician and this head on approach was the only thing she could come up with on such short notice.

“The others are getting the car, right?” Angel asked quietly.

Faith nodded. “We’re in, we’re out. Hit the place running and get out fast.”

“Sounds great,” Xander commented darkly.

Faith turned on him. “You got a better idea, X, let’s hear it,” she bit out.

Xander glared at her. “As a matter of fact…”

His voice trailed off as he spotted something over her shoulder that made his face light up.

“…Yes! Yes, I do!” he exclaimed and raced to the parking lot.

The rest followed, all looking puzzled.

A large black van, more of a truck actually, was wedged up onto the sidewalk, the letters ‘E.O.D.’ printed in yellow across it. Faith frowned as Xander struggled with the door lock excitedly.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Department of Explosives and Ordinance Disposal.” Xander turned to look at Faith. “They get the toys SWAT doesn’t,” he finished.

He growled in frustration, pulling hard on the doors.

“Except I can’t get them open,” he finished dejectedly.

Spike snorted. “Move!” he snarled.

Pushing the boy aside, he took both handles in his hands and twisted hard, the metal tearing apart as he ripped the doors open.

Two uniformed men tumbled from the truck to the pavement with a sickening crack. Willow yelped in fear as their dead eyes stared up at her. Horrified and yet oddly fascinated, she knelt down to peer into their eyes. If she concentrated, she could almost see the moment of their deaths in their eyes.

Angel knelt down to examine the cause of their deaths, a set of bullet holes in their foreheads.

“Shot by a small caliber weapon, possibly a .38”

“Police issue?” Spike queried, letting himself be shoved aside by Xander, who climbed into the back of the van excitedly.

“Yeah, could be,” Angel replied grimly.

Faith frowned. “They’re killing their own? What the hell is going on?” she asked.

“Yee-haw!” Xander cried out.

The rest turned to see Xander crawl out of the truck with a large satchel, which he handed to Spike, and some sort of monstrous cannon cradled in his arms.

“What the hell is that?” Faith asked.

Xander began examining the weapon.

“This is a tear gas grenade launcher, the technical name escapes me at the moment.” He displayed the weapon. “They used one of these in ‘Terminator 2’, the drum here holds several tear gas canisters,” he explained.

Angel nodded. “Or phosphorus rounds. I met some vampire hunters in Chicago way back when. Used to hot load these things and use them to burn up vampires, called it ‘Dragonsbreath’.”

Xander nodded.

“Yeah, well, I figured someone can cut the power and then we put a few of these through the windows, make it nice and uncomfortable in there, and get Dusk out.”

“Except that the windows have bars on them,” Faith pointed out.

Xander turned and looked, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he took in the wire box bars over all the windows.

“I can take care of that,” Willow told them quietly, shaking off her morbid obsession with the two dead men and standing up.

Faith looked at her; she knew the witch was powerful but she’d been acting kind of weird lately.

“Ohhh-kay, no problem, but that still leaves us stumbling around in the dark coughing up our lungs,” the Slayer informed Xander.

The young man grinned.

“You’re right, it would leave us stumbling around in the dark coughing our brains out.”

Faith got it instantly and she turned, as did Willow and Xander.

“What?” Spike asked.

Angel had already gotten the idea.



“Okay, so the blue wire here connects to the main fuses,” Xander murmured.

He was staring hard at the wire schematic etched into the back of the fuse cover of the police station power box, trying to determine which wires would result in a total blackout for the station when severed. He removed a pocket knife from his jacket, unfolded it, and carefully placed the edge of the blade against a green and yellow wire. He cast a final look at the schematic.

“Ohhh-kay, here we go,” he breathed and carefully, with agonizing slowness, drew his knife across the wire. It split apart and was severed.

Nothing happened.

“Uhhh… huh,” Xander frowned, looking once more at the schematic and the lights still on within the station. “Okay, that wasn’t it,” he frowned again.

Spike sighed. “One side!” he roared.

Xander hurriedly backed away as Spike reached into his jacket, removed his flask, and took a long pull of the contents.

“Oh shi-!” Xander cried out as Spike leaned in and spewed a mouthful of alcohol into the exposed wiring.

The whole box went up in an explosion of sparks, and within seconds, a large fire had burst into existence within the nest of wires. The scent of melted plastic filled the air as Xander tried to shield himself from the sparks and flames. Spike, paying no heed to them whatsoever, poured the remaining alcohol over the flames, causing them to shoot high into the air.

“Burn, baby, burn!” he cried out joyfully, making large whooshing gestures with his arms, grinning madly before capping his flask. He turned to the cowering boy and looked wholly demonic with his game face in place, grinning madly reflected in the firelight.

“Now, why is it I have to keep sacrificing my hooch to save this bloke’s ass?” he asked dryly, then clapped Xander on the shoulder.

“It’s Ouchie Time!” he yelled and dragged the stunned man away from the now-flaming ruin of the fuse box.



Viisq had never known pain before, never known fear. The blade, the bullet, the fist and claw and fang, these things could not hurt it.

But as it was propelled through the window of the interrogation room that it had spent hours torturing the young man in, it knew pain.

And as its blank, alien eyes took in the specter of the blood-covered Alec – floating six inches above the floor at the head of a vast wave of darkness stretching in all directions, hungry and black, coming for it – Viisq knew fear.

It tried to scramble away from the horrific apparition as a set of darkness tendrils wrapped themselves tightly around its legs, dragging it back into the dark room and the cold promise of oblivion that it contained. Viisq willed the flesh in his hips to part and, with a wet tearing sound, Viisq’s legs were pulled off and devoured voraciously by the dark.

Alec advanced on the simpering creature; his eyes were filled with darkness, devoid of any light, humanity or mercy, much like Viisq’s.

Viisq was snatched up by the darkness and bound in it over and over again; the creature wailed in terror, its inhuman voice shrieking at such a pitch to shatter glass before darkness forced itself down its throat, silencing it. Only its eyes remained uncovered, though even there the darkness crept along the edge of its eye sockets, like a cancer.

Alec brought the creature to eye level with him; it was a novel experience since being crippled had previously prohibited such a feat.

“Die now,” Alec rasped in a hollow, stony voice.

The darkness tightened around the creature.

Suddenly, the sounds of boots on floors, of men rushing, filled the air. Rifles were aimed and shotguns cocked. Alec turned his black eyes to spy a half-dozen men with weapons aimed. Viisq would have smiled if it could; he was still, after all, the master of these puppets and they would come to his call whether it was actually spoken or no.

“Kill him,” Viisq’s voice slithered through their numbed minds, long since reshaped into slaves by the Fleshdancer.

They raised their weapons… and the lights promptly went out and the entire station was shrouded in darkness.

Completely.



“All right, Red, you’re on,” Faith instructed, taking the sudden and total lack of light within the station as indicative of step one’s success.

Willow nodded as Spike and Xander rejoined the group. Angel tossed the satchel to the young man.

“Nice toys,” the vampire commented.

Xander nodded and set the satchel back down.

“Yeah, well, you never know when they’ll come in handy,” he quipped as he hefted the tear gas gun and took aim.

Willow began to chant; the numbing spell had taken a lot out of her but this next one had to be done. She raised her hands before her and, tapping that well of strength that came from love and concern for Alec, she closed her eyes and focused.

It began as a low hum, then a soda can near them flatted into a disk, people winced as their fillings began to throb and ache, car alarms went off, electrical wires began to sway crazily.

And with a screech of tortured metal and exploding stone, each and every grate was pried off the windows and hurled away. Spike whistled long and low.

“That bank job in Mexico would have gone a lot better with that trick,” he commented dryly.

Xander couldn’t comment; he was too busy trying to keep his fillings in his teeth and the gun in his hand.

“Now for the big finish,” Willow gasped out.

With a heave, the EOD van lifted clean off the ground and was hurled through the front door. The impact was like a small bomb as the van tore through the concrete of the entrance and left a trail of devastation well into the building.

“GO!” Faith cried out.

Xander needed no further prompting as he felt the gun go slack again as Willow went limp and fell into Faith’s waiting arms. Angel took off towards the debris that had been the front entrance as Xander fired round after round into the windows, covering first the bottom windows, then the second and third floors with near perfect aim.

“All those years playing Duck Hunt have finally paid off,” he commented as the last round of tear gas was shot into the building.

Faith only nodded as she passed off the exhausted witch into her best friend’s arms. Xander dropped the gun and lowered Willow to rest against a car door as Faith turned to Spike.

“Ready?” she asked.

Spike grinned. “Willing and able, love. Let’s do it,” he replied.

Faith tore ahead with Spike following, and stopped at the base of the wall.

“Alley oop!” she yelled.

Spike ran at the Slayer as she crouched low, hands cupped.

“God save the Queen!” Spike cried out as he put his foot in her palm.

With a grunt she heaved with every ounce of her Slayer strength and he flew up into the air. In mid air, the vampire braced his foot against the wall and pushed up and off, and with a loud crash, plowed through the fourth story window.

Spike landed and rolled across the linoleum floor. He stood up and shook off the glass, his vampire face peering out the window in amazement.

“Strong lass. Wonder what she’s like in bed…” he mused.

A meaty hand landed on his shoulder. Spike wasted no time, twisting the hand until he heard bones crack. Using it as leverage, he propelled a police officer hard into a wall; the man slumped to the ground as Spike grinned at the violence and the utter lack of chip-induced pain following it.

“Best present I’ve ever gotten.”

Turning, he dashed into the dark smoke-filled hallway, searching for his friend.



Viisq took advantage of the sudden darkness, liquefying his body and exploding out of the gap in the shadowy cocoon, splashing against Alec’s face and adhering to it with oozy tenacity. His concentration broken, Alec fell hard to the floor as Viisq smothered him. The other police officers were stumbling around blindly, coughing and choking on the tear gas that had somehow manifested out of nowhere.

Viisq felt a surge of triumph flow through its inhuman mind. This human was strong and possessed strange and disturbing powers, but in the end it was only human and thus susceptible to the myriad of flaws they inherit, including the need for oxygen.

Viisq forced its slimy essence down the young man’s throat, choking him, strangling him. It worked its way down, searching for the heart so that it may tear it out of his chest and be done with it.

But then something went wrong.

There was no heart to be found. Instead, the darkness within the boy found Viisq. Found him and then began to draw him deeper into the body, and with a surge of horror that rocked Viisq to its very core, it realize what was happening. No longer was he suffocating the boy.

Now the boy was… was eating him.

Viisq struggled to get away from this… abomination, this monster that somehow was more powerful than it.

Viisq tried to reach the boy's mind but the mind, like the body, was clouded in hungry darkness and could not be reached. Viisq clawed and wailed, trying to ooze and slither away, but it could not as the boy devoured it.

Suddenly, strong hands jerked the boy up, and with a gasping retch, Alec choked and vomited Viisq out of his body, gulping in great mouthfuls of air, his whole body reeling with horror. Viisq took no time in making good its escape and slithered across the floor, up a sink, and down the drain.

Angel hoisted Alec up and looked at him, his vampire eyes seeing quite clearly in the dark.

“Christ,” he muttered.

His alter ego, Angelus, prided himself on his torture techniques, but even he would be hard pressed to match the tapestry of suffering that had been etched onto the lad.

“Angel?” Alec croaked.

Angel nodded. “Yeah, it’s me, can you walk?” he asked.

Alec swallowed against the bitter taste in his mouth that had nothing to with the demon he had just tried to eat.

“No,” he replied.

Angel didn’t like the way that sounded but it would have to wait. Taking the damp rag he had had the foresight to bring with him, Angel wrapped it around the ruin of Alec’s nose and mouth.

“Here, try to breath through this,” the vampire instructed.

Alec grabbed his hand.

“There’s… a woman… inside there, she’s hurt. Needs help,” he croaked.

Angel nodded and, wrapping the man’s arm across his shoulders, carried him back towards a ruined room. He closed the door and braced a chair against it. Snatching up a table, he pressed it flush against a broken window that faced the hallway in an attempt to keep the tear gas out.

Finished with that, he went through the room, methodically tearing down metal grates and smashing open the windows that they covered. Cool night air filled the room, sucking out the tear gas. Angel knelt down by a slight form, crumbled upon the floor and turned it over. His eyes went wide with shock.

“Kate?” he breathed.

Kate opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Christ, I transfer all the way to New York and I still can’t get rid of you,” she rasped weakly, coughing.

Angel examined her wound, gently removing her hand. It didn’t look too bad, none of her vitals were pierced, but she had lost a lot of blood and would need medical attention.

“Can you walk?” he asked her.

She nodded as he helped to her feet.

“Better than your friend can at any rate, I assume you’re here for him and not just stopping by for a chat?” she asked.

Angel nodded. “Yeah, well, something like that. Kate, what happened here?” he asked her intently.

She shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’m out undercover for a few weeks, I come back and everyone’s gone berserk.”

“It was Viisq,” Alec rasped. “Some kind of… demon-thing, took control of them and made them crazy,” he explained weakly.

Angel nodded.

“Yeah, we heard, DeGanon filled us in a bit. They’re called ‘Dahaka’ or more commonly ‘Fleshdancers.”

Alec coughed and nodded, bringing his arms across his chest as if to keep himself from shaking to pieces.

“Yeah, that fits,” he commented, gesturing to a strange lump on the floor.

Angel turned it over, revealing the mutilated face of the thin cop.

“Cute,” he commented darkly, tossing the thing away, then turned back to the two injured people.

“We gotta get out of here. Kate, I’ll help you, you help Alec, all right?”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, yeah, just like old times,” she commented.

Alec turned to her. “Do you know each other?” he asked.

Angel helped brace Kate as she pulled Alec to his feet and braced him against her.

“I tried to kill him a few times,” she commented.

Alec nodded, cracking his first smile in what felt like a lifetime.

“Ah, so you’ve dated.”



Spike knocked aside what had to be the twelfth cop in less than ten minutes. True, the beatings were making him feel better, though he missed being able to feel the pain of blows received. Quite unlike the pain of that thrice-damned chip, the ache from receiving and giving out a good beating was strangely invigorating. Reminded you that you were alive.

Well, sort of, he amended to himself silently, grinning.

As much fun as this was, he really did want to find Alec. He was gravely concerned about his friend. A group of no less than six police officers, their eyes streaming but still fixed upon him, came barreling down at him from the other end of the smoke filled hallway, batons held high, screaming in fury.

Spike grinned.

Oh well, back to it then.

“Step up, ladies,” he called out, then dove into them with glee.



Angel, Kate, and Alec hobbled down the hallway; the two that needed oxygen passed the wet rag back and forth.

“Angel, next time soak this thing in ether, it’ll make this whole rescuing bit that much more pleasant,” Alec commented.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Angel replied.

He turned to address them when some kind of huge shape lunged at him. Angel knocked it aside without conscious thought; the man plowed past them and collided hard into a wall, wailing in pain. Alec’s eyes widened.

It was Eddie.

The fat man peered at them, his face a mask of blood and tears, his eyes red and filled with unthinking rage.

“You!” Alec hissed, his voice filled with death.

Angel looked back between the fat man and Alec, and put two and two together. Carefully, he helped brace Alec against the wall and set down Kate, who tugged at his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she asked insistently.

“A favor,” he replied.

He gently wrapped Alec’s arm over his own shoulder and hoisted him towards Eddie, who snarled and spit at them both, coughing too hard to mount any kind of assault or even defense.

“Do what you have to do,” Angel said quietly.

Alec looked at Eddie, the man that had spent hours torturing him. Without even thinking, his hand became a long blade. Kate watched in shock as Angel steered Alec towards the coughing, snarling man.

Alec looked at Eddie for a second, Eddie looked back. There was nothing in his eyes, only hatred.

With a scream of rage and pain so bestial it made Angel wince, Alec lunged forward and buried the blade all the way into the man, so deep that the tip burst from his back and scraped the wall behind him. Eddie gasped as he looked down, uncomprehending, at the wound and the dark blood pumping out of it.

“DIE!!!!!!” Alec was trembling violently, held up only by the blade impaling his tormentor.

Eddie looked up at Alec’s eyes and Alec watched the fat man’s cheeks jiggle, tears streaming down his face. Alec screamed again and twisted the blade hard, tearing it out of him, causing Eddie’s blood to spray his face and body even as he fell painfully, rolling over onto his back.

The fat man’s eyes locked in shock and pain and fear before he crumpled to the ground beside Alec. For a moment, as they lay there, Eddie’s blood spilled out and flowing around Alec gave him the appearance of him making a snow angel in deep red snow. In the blood of his enemy, Alec looked somehow… content.

Angel shook the grisly image from his head and carefully helped the young man up. Kate spoke quietly as Angel helped her up, shocked by what she had seen.

“Here, we need to get out of here, this way is the stairway,” she choked out, her lungs handling the tear gas about as well as everyone else’s.

“Let’s do it,” Angel told them, his voice firm and full of purpose.

Carrying Kate, who was carrying Alec, the vampire headed down the long hallway beyond which lay a door clearly marked ‘Exit’. The red letters of the exit sign, though blackened by loss of power, still seemed to shine like a thousand suns, each one promising relief and sanctuary.

The hallway opened up into a wide space filled with desks and phones, dominated by a large trophy case which was filled with civic awards and other such memorabilia, proclaiming that, in normal times, this police station was filled with exceptional men and women who were protectors of the peace rather than psychopaths.

It was Kate, idly peering at the mirrored backing of the trophy case, studying Angel’s lack of reflection, who saw them first.

The next few moments became a blur. Kate shoved Alec away. He stumbled and fell to the floor back in the hallway. Angel whirled around as the men, who had on gas masks, came up from their hiding places behind the desks, weapons bared, aimed and firing.

The bullets tore through them both; Angel roared in agony as they tore apart his dead body, shredding his clothing and shattering bone. Alec watched in horror as Angel fell, blasted backwards through the window and into a three story drop.

There was an odd whimper followed by a strange thump, and Alec tore his eyes from Angel to see what it was.

Kate sank to her knees, her blond hair matted in blood; her blood. Her blue-green eyes were wide and she looked at Alec, whom she had now given her life for.

Their eyes met. Kate’s looked shocked more than anything; she looked so surprised.

And then she pitched forward, her now-sightless eyes facing nothing.

Ever again.

“NO!” Alec screamed a wail of rage and pain at Kate’s senseless death.

The cops, their weapons still smoking, rose up and prodded her body. Then they turned their weapons on him.

Alec had never seen someone he’d cared for cut down. It did something to him, opened some flood gate and sundered some last thread of restraint, of self control.

He rose to his feet, once again the blackness inside him and all around him filling him and spilling out. The men fired their guns at him and for each bullet that flew from their guns, a tiny tendril of darkness lashed out faster than the eye could see and sliced them apart.

The darkness supporting him, Alec raised his arms above him like some kind of dark god. A lattice work of shadowy darkness formed behind him, creating some kind of horrible web that supported his shattered body six feet off the ground. Purple lightening crackled all along his body and the web, the tendrils snaking along the floor, over the ceiling, up and down the walls. The police officers backed away, this chthonic sight finally making an impact within their broken minds.

It was too little, far too late. Without a word, Alec, his skin taking on a demonic bluish tinge, raised his hand…

…and pointed.

Spike sent another man tumbling head over heels down concrete stairs. Leaping over him before he’d even hit bottom, Spike tore down the stairs three steps at a time, twisted down the rail and threw open a metal door.

“Right then! Here comes, Spi…-”

His voice trailed away as his brain caught up with his eyes.

Eight men were caught up in ropy tendrils of darkness and each one was slowly being picked apart like petals on a daisy. Arms were pried off, legs ripped free, heads twisted off; the casual brutality with which they were murdered was staggering. The floor was stained black with the enormous amounts of blood that had spilt out of their mutilated bodies.

On the floor, a pretty blond woman was shot up six ways from Sunday.

As Spike very slowly traced back the origins of all this carnage, his mouth dropped.

Alec was suspended by what looked like a web of the stuff that stretched from one end of the room to another, his clothes were in tatters and the darkness poured out of his mouth, his eyes, even pushing its way out of his bare skin.

And he was smiling exultantly through it all. He was having fun.

“Yes, well, that’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen,” Spike commented through a suddenly dry throat.

Slowly, Spike advanced on his best friend.

“Uhh… right then, mate. ‘Cops and Robbers’ is over, time to go.”

A tendril of darkness knocked him clear across the room to smash through the trophy case. Shocked, Spike shook the glass off his body and winced as he pulled a great shard out of his hand.

“Right. Well, this rescue isn’t going according to plan,” he groaned.

Getting to his feet, he tried to take it all in. It was like some kind of freakish nightmare made worse by the fact that it was his best friend responsible for the worst carnage he’d seen since China.

A door burst open at the other end of the room, causing Spike to tear his eyes away from the grotesque spectacle. Several other men barged in with gas masks and machine guns.

“How many bloody cops are there in this place?” he asked, amazed.

Spike quickly reached an inescapable conclusion: either the cops would fill his friend with lead or Alec would tear them apart. For a moment, he blond wasn’t sure which one disturbed him more but either way it was going to end badly.

Acting on impulse, Spike charged Alec, snatching up a shotgun and kicking a rolling chair out before him. Planting a foot on the desk, he leaped up and tackled Alec hard. Miraculously, Alec slumped in his arms, unconscious, the darkness dispelling, dropping the gory remains of the previous inhabitants wetly to the floor.

Twisting his body in mid air, Spike landed in the rolling chair. Throwing Alec over his shoulder, Spike twisted around and, with a scream, opened fire with the shotgun, using its force to propel him towards some broken windows while at the same time making the police keep their heads down. The seat tipped backwards and they fell. Spike twisted his body as best he could and pushed Alec off and away.



The screech of tires tore Faith away from her pacing. She was worried about what was going on inside; they had been in there too long. She could hear screaming, gunfire and only the occasional vampire roar to confirm that both vampires were still alive.

“Finally!” she snarled.

Reaching down, she helped Xander pick up the near-unconscious witch. Giles cut the car into a tight turn, and with an expert display of stick and brake, sent it screeching to a rest in front of the three. Dawn kicked the door open, showing Anya sitting in the back seat.

“Let’s go!” Dawn cried out.

Xander handed Willow off to Anya as Faith turned to regard the police station; Giles burst out of the drivers’ side door and came running to her.

“Are they out? Where are they?” he demanded.

Faith spun on him. “I don’t know!” she screamed as she turned back to face the building.

“They’ve been in there-”

With an explosion of glass and deafening gunfire, a form exploded from the window and sailed three stories down. The group reflexively ducked at the sound of firing; Anya, Dawn and Xander huddled inside the car.

The form landed hard on the roof of the car, the metal buckling as it caved in, glass exploding as the back window and windshield collapsed. Anya screamed in terror. Faith rushed over and gasped.

“Angel,” she whispered.

The vampire was unconscious and looked shot to pieces.

Faith dragged him to the edge of the roof, and with a grunt, heaved his form off the ruined car.

“Get him in the car!” she screamed.

“HOW?!” Xander screamed back, folded in on himself as best he could to keep from being crushed as he gestured to the doors, twisted into useless metal by the impact.

With a growl of frustration, Faith shoved her fist through the shattered windshield. Tears of pain sprang to her eyes as the glass cut into her, but she ignored it and tore out the glass windshield in one piece, hurling it to the ground.

“Here!” she yelled, handing Angel’s limp form through new opening.

Xander and Dawn took a shoulder and dragged him in.

“What about Alec?” Dawn yelled.

Giles spun on Faith, who was busy getting Angel’s feet into the car.

“I have no idea!” she screamed.

A series of shotgun blasts echoed through the night air. Faith jerked her head up and frowned, trying to peer up into the dark.

“INCOMING!” Xander yelled.

Faith frowned harder, then her eyes went wide.

“Down!” she cried out, tackling Giles and knocking him to the ground as what looked like a rolling chair smashed into the hood of the car and then rolled off.

There was a slight whistling of cloth and then, with an ear-splitting crunch followed by another yell of terror from inside the car, two forms landed on the machine – one on the roof, one on the hood.

“Spike!” Faith cried out.

The blond vampire groaned and lolled, rolling over onto his side from his resting place on top of the roof, before nearly falling off the top of the car. Faith caught him and dragged him inside the car. Willow was jostled to full awareness.

“What happened?” she asked groggily

“Alec!” an agonized voice cried out.

Faith turned and almost dropped Spike.

Giles was cradling his son’s head… at least she thought it was his head, it looked like nothing more than a bloody mass of tissue and bone.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Faith whispered, crossing herself for the first time in years in sheer horror at the sight.

Giles wept as he held his son’s body.

“Save the religion and the water works, your boy is still alive,” Spike spoke up, shaking himself free of Faith’s grip.

Giles took a pulse and then exhaled hard.

“He’s alive, barely,” he whispered.

“Help!” Xander’s muffled voice cried out from the car.

The final impact on the roof had nearly crushed them and even now seemed to be on the verge of doing so. Faith and Giles helped Alec off the hood of the car as Spike dug his hands into the machine, and with a roar of rage, tore the ruined metal roof clean off and hurled it away.

“Hulk smash,” Xander commented before he got a good look at Alec, which made him pale.

“Oh man,” he whispered.

Willow pushed her way past him. “Where is he?!” she demanded.

Xander tried to hold her back. “No. Wait! Wills!”

It was no use; she saw him and went rigid. He looked dead, he had to be dead.

“Alec,” she whispered, her voice filled with more pain and grief than Xander had ever heard in anyone’s voice.

Dawn scrambled around to get a better look and began to keen a wail of grief and agony.

“Oh, God. Alec,” Dawn whispered brokenly.

A gunshot cracked loud in the air, followed by another. The group ducked, Giles throwing his body over his son's as Faith and Spike hit the ground and those inside the car tried to huddle for protection.

All except Willow.

She tore her gaze from her mutilated lover and looked up at the window. Several police officers in gas masks were shooting at them. Raising her arms high above her head she began to chant.

“Uh-oh, the witch bitch is pissed,” Spike commented.

A burst of gunfire exploded near him, driving him down and away from Faith. Giles dragged his son back behind the car, seeking whatever meager shelter they could as Anya, Xander, and Dawn dragged Angel out of the car and down to join them.

Suddenly, the humming filled the air again, their fillings began to throb and several tiny shards of twisted metal began to float in the air. Faith was the only one, exposed and out in the open that saw this, saw the look on Willow’s face, a look that chilled her blood because it was so similar to the one she had had at one time.

The face of a killer.

Willow screamed out her rage, her thoughts filled with a pounding conclusion over and over. These men had killed her lover.

The metal fragments screeched up to the window, slicing apart anything and anyone in their path; they moved like they had a mind, seeking out each and every person in that room that wasn’t already dead.

Within moments, ten men were sliced into meat to join the remains of the eight that had already died and the one woman who had sacrificed herself to serve and protect another.

Willow slumped to the seat, unconscious; Faith just gaped in horror at what she had seen, trying to recollect the concept of mass murder with this seemingly gentle girl she had known for years.

“Let’s go!” Anya yelled out, breaking Faith out of her grim reverie.

Hoisting the mortally wounded Angel and Alec into the backseat, everyone attempted to pile into the car. Giles floored the accelerator, and with a screech of tires, he cut the wheel hard, twisting the car around before launching them away from this place of slaughter and torture and deep into the safety of the sheltering night.

“How is he?” Dawn yelled, near hysterical.

Miraculously, amongst all the swollen blood-encrusted skin and broken bones, a single damaged eye opened to regard the group in a blank haze of pain and puzzlement. Spike, perched in the front seat, turned to Alec and smiled, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Cheer up, mate, you’re rescued,” he quipped while lighting a cigarette.

“Alec,” Dawn whispered breathlessly, reaching out to stroke his hair back from his bloody face with a shaking hand, almost afraid that her touch could sever the young man’s tenuous hold on life.

As her hands touched his face, his eye closed gently, his breathing became a bit more steady, the lines of pain and fear smoothed, and within a few moments, he seemed to be resting quietly, if not comfortably.

Xander looked up at the young girl in awe. “How did you…?”

Dawn only shook her head as she gently stroked Alec’s face.

“I have no idea,” Dawn whispered.

“Dawnie’s got a gift,” a tired voice piped up.

Faith, sitting between Spike and Giles in the front, looked up into the rear view mirror to see Willow slowly rise up from the back seat. Keeping her expression carefully guarded, the Slayer instead turned her attention to the front seat as Willow brushed aside the snowy lock of white hair from her face and peered down at her lover.

“He seems to be doing better, but he really needs some patching up,” she whispered grimly.

Anya snorted.

“Yes and I’m sure that any hospital in the tri borough area would be happy to admit a fugitive half-demon,” she commented.

Willow sent her a very dark look as the tension in the car rose dramatically.

“He’s not the only one,” Dawn put in attempting to defuse the situation. “Angel’s shot up pretty badly.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah, looks like the great poof zigged when he should have zagged. Caught a gut-full of high caliber automatic weapon fire.”

Faith slugged him hard on the shoulder, nearly causing him to spill out of the car, his cigarette sent flying out of his mouth to dance across the speeding pavement below and spark flaming into the night.

“Bloody hell!” he roared.

Faith held up a warning finger. “Watch it, blondie,” she growled darkly.

Spike adjusted his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, regaining his cool and removing another cigarette from his jacket; he cupped it with his free to protect it from the whipping wind and lit up.

Faith turned her attention to Angel; he looked bad… again, it seemed like he’d just recovered from his ordeal in the Deadlands, now this happened.

What was it about heroes and copious amounts of injury?

Willow cradled Alec’s head in her lap, gently stroking the wounds on his face.

“Animals,” she whispered quietly, her voice full of black hatred.

Dawn looked up at her and shook her head.

“Victims,” the younger girl corrected, guessing who the witch was referring to. “Corrupted by the Fleshdancer. I don’t think they knew what they were doing.”

Willow looked up at her, her expression murderous.

“I don’t care,” she commented simply, chillingly.

Dawn swallowed and gripped Alec’s hand tightly. Her fear was washed away in a wave of quiet happiness when she felt his hand reflexively grip her tiny hand. She squeezed back just as tightly, blinking back tears. He was alive and that was all that mattered.

She could almost feel him; feel his life in his body. It was like a tiny spark surrounded by darkness. Dawn ran her fingers gently over his, touching him gently, lightly tracing the outline of a bad bruise. She could sense the damage, down to the cells and then beyond that, down to his soul.

Focusing slightly, she felt something inside her, her love for him, the way she felt, push forward out of her, just a little. The damaged skin of his hand began to smooth and within moments the bruise had faded. Dawn shivered in delight; for a moment, she and Alec were almost like one person.

The smile froze when she sensed that darkness surrounding his spark begin to stir and begin to stalk her, chasing her out of his body. She had a brief flash of a terrible and evil mind, vast and vicious. Then she tore her hand away with a gasp.

Willow looked up at her confused. “What is it?” she asked worriedly.

Dawn merely shook her head. “It’s nothing, hand cramp,” she lied.

Willow, too preoccupied with her lover’s condition, merely nodded.

Dawn examined her hand. It was bone white, just as if it had suffered severe frostbite, the fingers were stiff, the skin felt frigid. Cradling her wounded hand she settled back against the seat to stare into the dark.

Spike, watching from the rear view mirror, observed Dawn rubbing her hand and the condition it was in. He slowly shifted his gaze to Alec’s bloody and unconscious form. There was more than simple darkness within his friend.

There was evil.

Pure.

Hungry.

And all too real

God help us all, we band of buggered.



“His wounds are quite severe, but I believe with constant attention, some magic, and also time, he will recover partially,” DeGanon informed them.

The rescuers had made their way back to the sewer lair.

Giles frowned. “What do you mean, ‘partially’?”

Faith and the others, sans Angel who was also resting from his ordeal, looked also concerned.

“Let me show you,” DeGanon whispered, gesturing.

Leading the group into the make-shift infirmary, they passed Angel, who had had to have every bullet extracted from him and then the wounds bandaged, past Buffy, who lay resting, her bandages no longer leaking blood, to Alec.

Alec looked the worst. There wasn’t a square inch of his flesh that wasn’t stitched, bandaged or wrapped in gauze. Willow merely shook her head at the sight, grief and rage making her sick.

Dawn, however, remained troubled by what she had felt inside him, though she too was obviously affected. Willow leaned over to place a kiss on Alec’s head as DeGanon gently turned him over. Gently peeling back a bandage he gestured to a patch of skin at the base of his spine, spanning roughly one hand in size, completely smooth and almost glassy in texture.

“This is the mark of the Fleshdancer.”

Faith frowned. “You mean this guy put his hand inside his body…”

“…And fused his spine. He will never walk again,” DeGanon informed them grimly.

A loud crash jerked their attention away; Spike had kicked over a table in rage. Willow had tears in her eyes and Dawn was not far behind. Faith just shook her head in dismay.

“Oh man,” she whispered, remembering their sparring, how much he’d enjoyed it, how much he loved fighting against the evil.

And now he’d never walk again.

Giles sat down, aghast, and just shook his head over and over. DeGanon reapplied the bandage and laid the unconscious man back down.

“His other wounds are quite serious: he’s been shot, several bones in his face have been broken, one of his eyes has been ruptured, several ribs are broken as well, several more are cracked, so are bones in his arms and legs,” DeGanon concluded, looking at the sleeping man. “He was obviously tortured in addition to whatever happened beforehand.”

“I’m going to kill them!” Spike roared. “I’m going to go back to that police station and I’m not leaving till every single stinking person in there is a corpse.”

“Want some help?” Willow asked quietly, her eyes dark.

Dawn stepped in. “That’s enough,” she scolded.

“Mass slaughter isn’t going to solve anything and it’s certainly not what Alec would want,” she put in.

Wanna bet? Spike thought to himself as he scowled at her darkly and Willow merely turned her attention back to her lover.

“Hey D,” Faith chimed.

Dawn turned to her, ready for another argument. She was angry at what had happened to Alec, furious in fact, but she could not condone butchering people like cattle.

“Yeah?” she asked, lip stuck out defiantly.

“You’re right.”

Dawn’s defiance slipped. “Oh… okay,” she replied awkwardly.

Faith smiled at her. “Alec would be proud of you.”

Dawn blushed all the way to the roots of her hair; Willow smiled slightly, attempting to shake off her dark mood.

“She’s right. Alec’s a warrior, not a killer,” she told Dawn, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Spike sent them an unreadable look.

Giles stood up. “How long did Daenna say that they will be unconscious?” he asked.

DeGanon, his expression carefully guarded, chose his words just as carefully.

“Unfortunately, Daenna has gone missing, none of the tribe have seen her since the incident earlier,” he informed them calmly.

Spike’s eyes narrowed.

“Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the fact that she was the only one of the tribe that knew you had a Dahaka on your hands, would it mate?” he asked.

Slowly, all the eyes in the room fixed on DeGanon, who merely crossed his arms.

“I assure you, every effort is being made to find her and bring her home,” the gypsy chieftain replied coolly.

“Yeah, well, I have a sneaky suspicion that’s not going to work out too well,” Spike replied.

Stalking over to the bed, he dragged a chair between Alec and Buffy’s beds and sat down.

“What are you doing?” DeGanon hissed.

Spike looked up him casually.

“Making sure none of the other people who know about that flesh freak turn up missing,” he replied.

DeGanon’s dark features darkened further as he strode over to the chair to loom over the vampire.

“Are you implying-?”

“I wouldn’t call it an ‘implication’, mate,” Spike replied.

DeGanon moved his hands to the hilts of his kukri.

And stopped dead as the seated Spike produced a butterfly knife and, with a deft wrist movement, rested the tip of the blade lightly against the standing gypsy’s groin.

“Careful, mate, a flick of my wrist and I can put an end to your ham eating days,” he warned darkly.

DeGanon slowly moved his hands away from his weapons and regarded the vampire with raw anger.

Spike coolly refolded the knife and pocketed it.

“Your day will come, shimulo,” he warned darkly.

Spike smiled wryly. “Tougher men than you have said that, mate, think you’ll die as easily as they did,” he replied.

Flushed with anger, the gypsy stalked away muttering in Romani.

“Was that wise, Spike?” Giles asked. “Alienating our host can only result in confrontations later.”

Spike gestured with a finger at the departing gypsy.

“I don’t trust that bloke. You heard what he said – his ultimate loyalty is to the tribe and his master is Dracula. Put those two together and you get the fixings of a fanatic and the problem with a fanatic is that you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly stupid,” he commented.

“I know I’ve heard that line somewhere before,” Faith replied.

Spike nodded. “Yeah, works just as well for honest people.”

“I’ll take second watch,” Giles put in grimly.

“I got third,” Faith replied.

“I’ll stay for all of them as best I can,” Willow added. “If he comes at us with gypsy magic, you’ll need me.”

If he comes at us at all, they’ll be scraping what’s left of him off the ceiling, Faith thought darkly, the grisly results of the witch’s murderous prowess springing vividly to mind.

Dawn looked concerned.

“Are you sure, Wills? You haven’t been sleeping much,” she asked worried.

Willow nodded, her hair falling into her face.

“I’ll be okay,” she inhaled. “I’m a Rosenberg, we’re a tough breed.”

“All right then. Giles, Dawn, and I will get some Z’s, the rest of you keep your eyes open, your ears pricked…” Faith began.

Spike looked up and grinned at this, Faith shot him a wry look.

“I said EARS pricked, not the other way around.”

Willow giggled and Spike made a big show of ‘misunderstanding’.

Dawn frowned. “Okay, you lost me.”

Faith patted her shoulder. “It’s a play on words, I’ll explain later,” she assured the younger girl.

The dark-haired Slayer then turned to Willow.

“Go see if you can rouse Xander and Anya, maybe we can divvy up guard duty a bit more proportionately.”

Willow nodded. “On it.”

Faith sighed. “All right then, troops, you’ve got your assignments, let’s remain five by five and take care of our people.”

“What is it with this family and people barking out orders?” Spike demanded.

Giles chuckled quietly and rested a hand on his son's head.

“We have within us great strength, a quality trait in those who would become leaders of men,” he replied softly before leaning down and gently placing a kiss upon his sons head. “Rest up, son, you’re needed.”

“Damn straight,” Spike commented raising his now near-empty flask in toast to the sentiment.

Willow took up watch near the door, Spike near the beds; the others began to file out. Only Dawn remained, and she gently leaned over Alec and whispered in his ear.

“You’re needed,” she told him, her heart in her voice before moving away.

Willow looked up at her. “What did you tell him?” she asked.

Dawn looked embarrassed and laughed a little.

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to wish him pleasant dreams,” she tried to mention lightly.

Willow nodded as Dawn left, wondering whether or not Dawn’s ability to fabricate a lie on demand would get better with more practice.



DeGanon cursed himself over and over as he stalked through the corridors of his domain. It hadn’t been enough to murder the old woman who had understood exactly what her fate would be once she learned of the Dahaka; hence her fleeing into the pipes. She had to die though, and in the end she knew that and had remained oddly passive when DeGanon caught up with her and held her head under the surface of a pool of raw sewage until she had stopped thrashing and the currents took her body away.

Her death was necessary to keep panic from sweeping through the kumpania, but now the cursed Slayer and her family were beginning to get suspicious. He wiped at his face with a white linen handkerchief and cursed in Romani. None of them knew how dangerous the Dahaka was, to the world and to the tribe. And, most of all, to him.

Wringing the handkerchief in worried agony, he frowned when it began to take on an odd texture. He looked down… and gasped in shock and horror.

The handkerchief was stained with blood, almost black. Racing to a pool of water framed by a nest of rusted pipes, he peered into the murky water.

There was no wound. DeGanon frowned in disbelief, staring at the bloody rag in his hands. Hurriedly, he threw the rag in the water, and immediately the dark water became red and thick, viscous and gory. The gypsy peered into the pool in shock, then screamed as a bone-white hand burst from the surface and grabbed at his shirt, trying to drag him into the pool.

Daenna’s face rose from the blood like a ghost, her expression twisted in rage as she clawed at her murderer. Twisting out of her grasp, he tore his kukri from his belt and with a single slash decapitated her. The head bounced and rolled across the wet stone floor. The rest of the body sank back underneath the red water and was no more.

Cautiously, DeGanon approached the severed head, which remained very real. Picking it up by the hair, he turned it to face him. The eyes shot open, a horrible milky white, and the mouth hissed at him.

“Dahaka, the sins of the Spaarti have returned! Your sin, DeGanon! Your sin!”

With a roar of rage and fear, DeGanon hurled the head high in the air; it sailed up and away and came to rest in a large pool of black water, quickly sinking into its depths.

But as it flew, the voice repeated its black mantra.

“Your sin.”

DeGanon, shaking and terrified, crossed himself. This was prikasa, bad luck, a sign of dark things to come. And dark things already arrived.

DeGanon watched as the last bubbles from the pool stilled and were no more.

Pain.

Darkness.

(I can’t see.)

Things tight, binding, cutting into skin.

(I can’t move.)

Struggling, heat.

(My face)

Voices now, talking, getting louder, a bright light, pain.

(HELP ME!)

Alec lurched up out of bed, screaming. Willow and Giles grabbed for his left arm, as blades erupted out of the skin of his right arm, which was lashed down just for this reason.

“Alec!” Giles yelled, trying to get his wounded son under control. Alec looked up at him with his one eye through the mask of bandages.

“Shhh!” Willow tried to soothe, stroking his forehead though there was precious little skin left uncovered by gauze.

A tear, a snap and the bonds surrounding Alec’s right arm were torn free. He lurched up, waving the bladed appendage at them, eyes wide yet not seeing, still locked in whatever nightmare he had woken from. The pair backed away hurriedly as Faith rushed into the room.

“D!” she cried out. Like a terrified animal, Alec lurched out of bed attempting to stand. His legs folded under him like wilted flowers. Vainly he tried to steady himself on a wooden table. His bladed arm dug into it knocking it over and spilling a bowl of water and a mirror to the stone floor. All shattered, spraying him with cold water, he fell hard upon the broken glass, cutting himself.

“Alec,” Willow whispered kneeling next to him, careful to avoid the bladed arm, now embedded solidly into the broken remains of the table as Alec looked at himself for the first time in the jagged shards of mirror strewn upon the floor

Nearly his entire face was bandaged, both of his eyes were swollen, one had been ruptured; even now his sclera was a bloody red. His nose had been badly broken and was swathed in bandages. He had several stitches in his face; his jaw was swollen and purple, also bandaged. The effect made his face look like it had been broken into several pieces and then hastily stitched back together.

Trembling, he touched his mutilated face with his fingers, then pulled away as he noticed that he was smearing blood on his soiled bandages. He looked down at his hand and saw a single glittering piece of glass protruding from his palm. The blades retracting from his right arm as his fear and terror gave way to something else, he slowly pulled the glass shard from his palm, grimacing. For a moment he held the piece of red glass before his eyes, his friends and family exchanging worried looks. Numbly the glass fell from his shaking fingers and landed upon the pile of shards, splattering blood upon them. Alec looked down at them and now saw his broken face, tainted with his own blood reflected a thousand times.

Staring right up at him.

And with a low rising wail, Alec slumped as his spirit broke in horror at what the last 24 hours had done to him. Willow grabbed him before he impaled his face upon the pile of broken glass and held him as he sobbed bitterly.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured rocking him back and forth. Giles and Faith stepped forth to help him to their feet. Alec’s powerless legs could not support him but they managed to get him back on the cot, Willow kissing his face gently. Alec whimpered and tried to cover his face in shame with his bloody hands. Willow gently pushed them aside as Faith took his bloody hand and cleaned and redressed it. Alec looked away, tears running down his face, though no longer weeping, staring at nothing. Willow gently turned his head to face her,

“Hey, stay with me,” she whispered, “Please? I need you here,” She could only just meet his gaze; it was the look of one who had lost all will to live. For someone who had been as strong and vital as her lover, it was devastating to see. Faith finished with Alec’s hand and Willow took it from her, cradling it and placing a kiss on a patch of bare skin,

“I love you,” she whispered. Alec didn’t blink, his expression remained broken, but his hand did tighten around hers just slightly. Willow smiled as Giles rested a hand on his son’s shoulder,

“Son…” he whispered. Alec didn’t react but his heavily bandaged head turned slightly against the pillow toward his father’s voice. Giles took that as a good sign and squeezed his son’s shoulder.

Faith smiled at Alec, “Hey D, welcome back to the land of the living,” she quipped. Alec turned towards the sound, the only sign that he acknowledged anyone had spoken to him. Willow looked up at the two of them,

“Let everyone know he’s awake but tell them he needs his rest. How’s Buffy doing?” she asked Giles. Giles stuck his hands in his jeans and turned his head,

“She seems to be recovering well,” he replied carefully, “Though she too needs a goodly amount of rest,” Buffy had regained consciousness a few days ago, “She’s sleeping now, Spike’s with her,” he finished. Willow nodded and turned to Faith,

“How Ange-?” Suddenly, Willow gasped as Alec’s hand tightened painfully around hers. His breathing became rapid; his eyes opened wide in fear as a low moan of fear and pain came spilling out of his mouth. Willow’s heart leapt into her throat even as she pushed aside the pain in her hand, willing herself to squeeze back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him. With agonizing slowness, Alec turned his mutilated face towards Faith. Faith exchanged a confused and panicked look with Giles before answering quickly,

“He’s fine!” she blurted out hurriedly, “We had to dig out a hell of a lot of lead out of his gut but he’s okay!” Willow turned in understanding to face Alec. His face remained pale and taunt for a moment, but then Faith’s words sank in and he relaxed. His death grip upon Willow’s hand relaxed and though her first instinct was to pull away and cradle her wounded appendage, Willow merely held her lover’s hand, giving no indication as to being injured in the least.

“It must have gotten beyond hairy in that cop-house,” Faith murmured. Willow cradled Alec’s broken face sadly taking in his vacant stare of empty despair,

“Yes, it was,” she replied quietly. Alec leaned his head into her touch slightly but his eyes never blinked and never warmed.

“So how is he?” Spike asked Faith a few minutes later. Faith looked over at him,

“He had his face pulverized, he was tortured beyond recognition and now he’s crippled. How would YOU be?” she replied testily. Spike shot her an ugly look,

“I don’t know, let me remember what it was like to have a bloody pipe organ dropped on me and be forced to spend months in a wheelchair while your mooching son of a bitch grandsire makes moves on my girl before I answer,” he snarled back. Faith’s eyes widened,

“Who dropped a pipe organ on you?” she asked amazed.

“Guilty,” Buffy put forth, meekly raising her hand, “But in my defense he was evil at the time. He was trying to kill Angel,”

“Not like the great poof didn’t deserve it,” Spike replied.

“He, ANGEL, never hit on your lady of the straitjacket; it wasn’t until he became Angelus that that happened,”

“Yeah, and let’s all remember who’s responsible for THAT too!” Spike snapped. Buffy flinched, remembering her role in Angel’s degradation into Angelus all those years ago. Spike saw the look on her still bruised and slightly battered face and sighed, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly,

“I’m sorry love, I still have a bloody hangover from that spell Red threw and I’m a little strung out from fun at the 56th precinct,” he explained apologetically; Buffy blinked back the hurt from her face, smiled bravely and took Spike’s hand in hers squeezing it.

“You’re a bad, rude man,” Buffy quipped quietly. Spike chuckled and kissed her,

“So it’s been said, baby,” he replied, gently chucking her chin. Buffy smiled and turned to everyone else.

They were all assembled in Buffy’s bedroom. Buffy was still in bed, sitting propped up with pillows and leaning against the wall, a few bandages still on her face and arm, which was currently in a sling pressed against her chest. Spike was sitting next to her and occasionally offering restful support. Everyone else, except Angel, Willow and Alec were arrayed around the room, either in chairs, sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall.

“I think we need to get out of here,” Xander put forth, he turned to Giles, “Can your new girlfriend put us up for a few?” he asked wryly. Giles coughed and glared at him, shaking his head,

“I don’t think Alec can be safely moved yet, his wounds are still quite sensitive. The fact that his healing factor has not yet healed them suggests that there was extensive internal damage. He was, quite literally, nearly beaten to death,” Giles’ fist became white knuckled and his jaw clenched so tightly the sound of porcelain grinding against each other filled the room as he thought of what his son had been put through.

“Giles. Chill. I’m tweaking too, but we need to get our heads clear,” Buffy said sternly,

“You didn’t’ see him fresh out of there Buffy,” Dawn replied quietly looking up at her sister, “You don’t know,” Buffy glared at her,

“No, I didn’t, but I saw him get pummeled in the Nightmare Realm and take a bullet so I think that I’m allowed to talk about it,” she replied harshly, “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who’s pissed.” Dawn said nothing for a while then nodded,

“Sorry,” she replied sullenly going back to stare at the floor. Buffy sighed as Giles cleared his throat and nodded,

“Buffy’s right. Rage won’t help us now. What we need to do is figure out what’s next in acquiring the Worldless Psalm and the blood of the Neverborn and dealing with the Hellmouth,”

“Okay, so how do we do that?” Xander asked, “Our only lead was the Rabbi and he’s come down with a slight case of missing his face,” he commented. Anya frowned,

“Wasn’t Satara the one who recommended the rabbi in the first place?” She asked. Spike’s head jerked up and he sent a look to Faith, who was sending the same one back to him,

“Think she set us up?” he asked quietly.

“Only one way to find out,” she replied. Spike sighed,

“And after giving the performance of my unlife. No appreciation for talent,” he sighed. Giles held up a hand,

“Satara was recommended to us by Marlena. I for one refuse to believe that Marlena would send us to someone who would lead us into a trap,” he stated sternly. Spike glared over at him,

“This glowing endorsement wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you and she played “hide the tweed” a while back, would it?” he snorted. Giles’s face darkened more and he advanced on the vampire. Spike started to get up, ready for war when Buffy pulled him back down to the bed.

“Spike, enough,” Buffy warned. Spike gestured angrily at Giles,

“How are we supposed to trust this woman? What, because Captain Librarian here and she had a nice silver-haired snog, that makes this woman some kind of saint?”

“I trust her Spike. Do you trust me?” Buffy asked sternly. Spike stopped, then sighed and sat back down on the bed, muttering darkly. Giving Spike another reproachful look, Buffy turned to Giles,

“Giles I don’t think Marlena would steer us wrong, but Spike has a point. Satara may have Keyser Soze’d her. At any rate it’s worth following up. Maybe there’s something at that temple that can help us. A diary, journal of the Rabbi before he had his face removed; something that can help us.”

“And who gets to run this charming little errand? Shadow Boy was the only one of us who could both fight worth a damn and had half a brain towards the heebie jeebie stuff,” Spike put in dourly.

“I’ll go,” Giles said quietly. Spike looked at him agog.

“With that flesh thing still wandering out there, probably right now making new friends…literally and then driving them murderously insane?” He asked, stunned. Giles nodded,

“That’s right,” the Watcher replied calmly. Spike looked at him, then exhaled, chuckling, shaking his head,

“I take it back, forget the tweed. Balls of British steel indeed,” he quipped lightly before getting to his feet, “But don’t be thinking you’re the only one Mother Britannia so generously endowed. I’m in,” he finished. There were wry chuckles around the room,

“Steel huh?” Faith asked. Spike winked,

“That’s right, let lesser men and the French settle for brass,”

“God save the queen,” Xander cracked quietly. A few more quiet laughs, more to relieve the stress and despair pushing in on them all rather than from actual humor as Spike shrugged on his duster,

“Right then, let’s go perpetrate a felony,” he grinned enthusiastically, “or does breaking into temple count as sacrilege?’

“Spike, you may trust me when I say, your every act constitutes both,” Giles informed tiredly. Spike grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder,

“Thanks mate, I love you too,” he laughed. Giles groaned as Faith spoke up,

“Yo G, are you going to need some muscle?” she asked. Giles shook his head,

“With Angel, Alec and Buffy all on the mend, we need you to stay here just in case…”

“In case DeGanon tries to kill us all,” Spike finished. Faith grimaced and nodded,

“Hardcore. Got it,” she declared. Privately Faith wondered really how badly she’d need to stay here when they had a murderously powerful witch available. She kept these musings and fears though to herself for the moment.

“Guys? No heroics,” Buffy warned them, “You see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, get the hell out of there,” Giles nodded as Spike grinned,

“Luv, if I see anyone with a face like Silly Putty, I’ll know I’m on Madison Avenue, and I plan on shopping.”

“Ah the joys of Botox, life without facial expressions,” Xander chuckled as he gestured at Spike, “Maybe they can recommend a good nip/tuck clinic, get rid of those unsightly forehead ridges,”

More laughter as Spike made the classic obscene hand gesture. Xander put a hand over his heart,

“Spike, wherever did you learn such a thing?”

“Remember those nuns you cut off on the freeway? They were doing it while howling expletives at you,” Spike answered.

“Oh yeah,” Xander nodded in mock realizations, “I’d forgotten,”

“Honey, I spent a thousand years as a demon and even I wasn’t about to forget some of the words those old women were using,” Anya put in, kissing his cheek. More laughter as Spike held us hands,

“Yes yes, I’m a master of comedy. Time to go be brave,”

“Be careful,” Buffy said quietly. Spike nodded, peering out the door into the seemingly empty hallway in the gypsy stronghold.

“Yeah, you too luv,” he replied meaningfully. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,”

Giles frowned, “I didn’t know you had read Sun Tzu, Spike.” Spike shook his head,

“Naw mate. Vito Corleone,” Spike chuckled. Giles sighed,

“Yes. Of course. Why read the book when a movie is so much less high-impact,” Spike chortled.

“Damn right,” he replied before turning serious pointing at Buffy,

“Watch out for Romani bearing knives,”

“Watch out for fleshdancers bearing…hands. Okay that didn’t work,” Buffy sputtered, “just-“

“Be careful, I got it pet,” Spike flashed thumbs-up and headed out.

The club was, of course, rocking. Deep bass rumbles blasted through oversized speakers as Spike and Giles entered. Purple and blue mini spotlights, mounted upon the ceiling bobbed in time to the music bathing the crowd in pulsing light as vampire and Watcher made their way down the upraised terrace that served as entrance to the club down to the main floor.

“YEAH!” Spike growled, getting a real charge out of the deafening music and good party. Giles grabbed his jacket,

“Stay focused!” Giles yelled. Spike grinned and cupped a hand over his ear, pretending not to be able to hear,

“Eh?” he asked. Giles glared hard at him and practically dragged him through the crowded dance floor, past demons, vampires, and humans. Girls of all species mounted on poles and upon the bar writhed and occasionally poured pitchers of water…as well as blood, upon both themselves and the audience. Spike grinned and laid his head on the bar staring up at one of the demon girls, a creature with deep blue skin and red hair, wearing a porcelain mask and little else, standing over him with a pitcher of blood.

“Fill us up love,” he instructed. The porcelain mask’s features shifted seamlessly to grin at him as the girl raised a perfectly formed foot to his cheek when Spike was jostled hard from behind. Whirling around, the enraged vampire lashed out a fist and clobbered a very inebriated Tak demon into the next world. Turning back his attention to the girl upon the bar…only to witness her attentions have shifted elsewhere.

“Bugger,” he muttered. Giles came up to him just then,

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Miserable. This incredible demon girl was about to perform a Santanico Pandemonium for me until some clumsy oaf-“

“Did you find Satara?” Giles asked impatiently. Spike shook his head,

“Not as of yet, no” Spike confessed,

“Well if you’d stop oogling dancing girls instead of doing something useful!” Giles roared, Spike actually looked taken aback for a moment, before holding up a single finger,

“One second,” he said to the furious man. Walking back up to the blue-skinned dancer, he beckoned for her to kneel down, flashing a twenty. A few words were exchanged as well as five more twenty-dollar bills before Spike nodded satisfied and headed back to Giles,

“Satara’s in the back, behind the piranha aquarium over yonder,” he calmly informed the dumbstruck librarian, pointing at the far end of the club.

“What did you do?” Giles asked skeptically. Spike shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it,

“A hundred and twenty bucks convinced her that I was a talent scout,” he replied before turning to address the other man, “Never doubt the usefulness of oogling a dancing girl, mate.” Spike smirked and headed to the back leaving a somewhat humbled Giles to catch up.

As they approached the door, A Fyarl demon stepped forward to impose himself before the pair,

“No enter,” it growled glaring down at the smaller vampire. Spike turned to look at Giles who shrugged, then turned back to look up at the demon. Exhaling a final puff of smoke he tossed the cigarette down in front of the demon. The demon looked down at it, arching a fleshy ridge of skin where an eyebrow would be.

Spike looked up at him

And smiled.

The Fyarl demon roared in pain and rage as Spike dunked its head into the piranha tank for a third time. The voracious fish tore tiny chunks from the creature’s face and head at a blinding speed. The water was turning a murky black as bits and pieces of mauled tissue and blood floated to the surface.

After a few moments, Spike hoisted him up, bleeding, coughing, and sputtering,

“Now then, we need to talk to Satara,” Spike casually told the demon. The demon roared, spittle flying out from his bleeding maw as it hurled out a flurry of insults including Spike’s lineage, his relationship with his mother and portions of his anatomy. Spike shook his head sorrowfully,

“You are more right than you know, mate,” Spike lamented forlornly before dunking the bleeding creature back into the black water and the voracious fish within.

“Oh, come on!” A voice called out. Spike and Giles turned around from the grim spectacle of slowly feeding the demon to the fish to see Satara. A single clawed hand frantically tried to push Spike away. Without taking his attention from the demon woman, Spike casually stuffed the flailing hand into the tank adding a new octave to the demon’s screams,

“Do you know how hard it is to get Fyarl out of a fish tank filter?” she asked peevishly. Giles adjusted his glasses,

“We must speak with you, it’s quite urgent,” he told her calmly. Satara nodded,

“Yes, I can see that. I imagine you’re not feeding my bouncer to flesh-eating fish for fun,”

“I’m having fun,” Spike put in grinning. Satara sighed as she noticed both that the water was getting very, very dark and the demon was starting to struggle a lot less.

“Oh, for the love of Tiamat, fish him out of there before he drowns. Do you know how long it took me to find a Fyarl demon dumb enough to work for breadsticks?” she asked peevishly.

“I don’t know, I used to employ a few that worked for chewing gum. Claimed it did wonders to aid in their mucous issues,” Spike threw a wry look at Giles,

“See? I wasn’t lying about that,” Spike gloated to the man who had spent a little time as a Fyarl demon.

“I’m thrilled beyond words, Spike. Fish him out,” Spike rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation before hauling the demon out and tossing him to the floor, coughing and sputtering, as well as bleeding profusely.

“Fascinating buggers, piranha are. Fun fact about them, they have no taste for the undead, much like wasps, but toss them a nice chewy demon full of all those yummy living juices and…” Spike finished with a grin, examining his completely undamaged hand.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re a regular genius, come into my office and we can discuss your methods of payment for the upcoming stomach pumping for thirty-odd Amazonian piranha,” Spike snorted and followed Satara into her office as Giles closed the door behind them.

“Let me guess, you’re here because you’re wondering whether or not I set your friends up, right?” Satara calmly asked them. The pair was taken aback for a moment at her directness before nodding,

“Yes we are,” Giles replied coolly. Satara sighed and nodded,

“Okay, yes I wasn’t being straight with you but no, I didn’t set you up,” she gestured at a pair of empty chairs, “Please sit,” She smiled wryly when they hesitated. “Trust me you have nothing to worry about, my heaviest hitter just got turned into fish food by short, blond, and vicious here,” she finished with a self-deprecating chuckle, gesturing at Spike. Spike grinned in spite of himself,

“Yeah well, the dumb blighter had it coming,” he replied as he and Giles took their seats.

“Yes, how dare he attempt to do his job and keep violently homicidal vampires from barging in on me,” she sighed then “Okay back to the topic at hand: I thought maybe this rabbi, Mesha Loeb, could help you out. He was always in here asking questions about all kinds of weird stuff so, you know?”

“The rabbi was in here?” Giles asked, puzzled. The demon nodded,

“Thought it was pretty weird to see this old guy all in black with these dreadlocks-,”

“Peyos,” Giles informed her. She nodded,

“Right well, whatever, coming in here and asking about reanimation and necromancy and souls. Saw him actually talking to a few of these cultists, Lazarene I think. Weird bunch,” she frowned as Giles and Spike exchanged a look, “You know I haven’t seen too many of them around lately,” she mused.

“That’s because they were decimated by absent compatriots,” Spike informed her. Satara’s green eyes widened,

“There was like, five score and ten in that necrophyliacs fan club!” she exclaimed.

“We sent some heavy artillery to deal with that,” Spike replied evenly, grinning in pride at his lovers’ and friends’ prowess in battle,

“Yeah, that was part of the reason why I wanted you to come and go as soon as possible, you were packing a LOT of supernatural firepower and that makes me nervous,” Satara explained.

“If we can get back on track here,” Giles interrupted, “You said the rabbi himself was in here talking to members of the Cult of Lazarus asking questions about reanimation?” Satara nodded,

“Well, to be honest, first it was his assistant, called himself a ‘student of the Talmud,’”

“An apprentice rabbi, interesting,” Giles nodded thoughtfully putting his fingers under his chin in thought, “This young man was the first contact?”

“Right up until he disappeared and Rabbi Mesha started coming in himself, yeah,” Satara confirmed. Giles’s dark expression grew darker,

“I see,” he replied. Spike frowned,

“Okay, someone explain to me why we all have our tragedy masks in place please?” he asked. Giles fairly leapt to his feet, ignoring the blond vampire,

“Thank you Satara,” Satara frowned,

“You look worried. Hey, are we cool? You’re not going to send, like, your slayers or your son to come make life difficult for me are you?” she asked worriedly.

“What? Oh, no, no of course not, we’re fine,” Giles replied absentmindedly as he headed to the door. Spike and Satara exchanged confused looks before the former got to his feet and headed out,

“Hold on a moment!” Spike demanded following the rapidly retreated form of Giles. Giles jerked the door open-

Only to duck as a bandaged Fyarl demon roared at him lunging with hands outstretched. Giles wasted no time, kneeling and sending a powerful blow to the creature’s groin. There was a loud ‘crunch’ followed by a primal scream of agony from the demon as it folded over, clutching its ruined anatomy. Before Spike or Satara could even gasp, Giles grabbed the creature by its horn, taking advantage of its temporary off-balance helplessness and using its own considerable weight against it, twisted, pivoted and propelled the creature straight into the aquarium.

It had time to scream once before it impacted with the glass. An explosion of water and glass followed by a geyser of tiny, biting teeth signaled the destruction of the aquarium as the Fyarl demon fell to the soaking floor and writhed, a dozen or so pirhana embedded in its skin and chewing furiously,

“Holy shi-!” Spike gaped, looking at the destruction.

“Come on!” Satara wailed in dismay, looking at the destruction. Giles turned to Spike,

“We’re leaving,” Giles replied calmly, casually kicking aside a gasping fish near his foot that was trying to bite him.

“Aye aye, Ripper,” Spike replied dumbfounded. Then he began to cackle, “That was beautiful! Holy God!” Spike clapped, stepping over the wreckage and following Giles out the door. “Whoa, hold on; hold up, what’s going on?” Spike asked other man. Giles sighed and stopped, allowing the vampire to catch up,

“The Jewish Tradition, especially the branches of Orthodox and Hasidism are very strict about what is and is not acceptable behavior,” Giles began, Spike waved it away,
“Yeah, yeah, this is the same religion that ensures I can’t get a decent cheeseburger in half of New York,” Spike replied flippantly. Giles whirled on him,

“For God sake’s listen to me! And shut up!” Giles yelled. Spike wisely did both.

“The Jewish tradition has one of the oldest and most mystically powerful histories of any of the religions; The Talmud, the Torah, the Kabbalah; each one of these books have been considered at one time or another a source of extraordinary magical power. For those who are properly trained in understanding, decoding and applying the text, it is a source of enormous supernatural prowess, one of the most powerful rites being the creation of an unstoppable automaton”

“Oh come on!” Spike laughed, “You don’t honestly think Rabbi Joey or whatever actually managed to…” he stopped as he noticed Giles’ expression,

“It’s been done before Spike. In 1580 in Prague, a rabbi and two of his assistants, in an attempt to prevent a murderous priest from launching a mob against the Jewish Quarter constructed what texts call “a man of earth and clay” to protect them. Now history is vague here but it is believed that something went awry either during the ritual of creation or afterwards.”

“Awry as in…” Spike asked now looking worried,

“As in the gargantuan creature went on a murderous rampage killing dozens of people before it was destroyed through unknown means,”

“So what has you worried is that the good rabbi may have been trying to create an unkillable juggernaut of death.” Spike pondered that a moment, “Yeah all right, I’ll admit that’s something to warrant a measure of concern, mate,”

“Taxi!” Giles cried out. A dingy yellow cab pulled up,

“Yo, where you headed?” the cabbie asked.

“Fifth avenue and 92nd street and quickly!” Giles urged as he opened the door turning to Spike.

“No, I’m worried that Rabbi Mesha, the real Rabbi Mesha may have indeed created something and now that he’s dead it’s loose and completely out of control,”

Spike stopped at that thought. A berserk colossus of death, nearly invulnerable, that the world had not seen for the last four hundred plus years, and its creator, the only person capable of reigning it in, dead as three-week-old Chinese food.

“Oh…sod!” he muttered before getting into the cab.

Giles and Spike crept underneath the soiled yellow police tape surrounding the ruins of what had once been the synagogue.

“I can’t believe we’re coming back here,” Spike muttered as he cast his eyes back and forth. Far from the tranquil feeling they had all experienced upon first seeing it, in what felt like a hundred lifetimes ago, now there was the scent of death and violence in the air. Buffy and Alec’s experience within the Nightmare Realm, the police, the Dahaka, all of it had left some kind of…emotional bloodstain that gave Spike the creeps,

“We need to see if Rabbi Mesha left some kind of diary, a journal, any kind of evidence that would point to whether or not he has in fact created a golem,” Giles replied. They reached the large wooden doors, now pitted with bullet holes from the police and chained heavily,

“Spike, if you would?” Giles asked politely. Spike sighed, and then hauled himself up the stairs towards the looming door. Swallowing his fear, he spit on his hands, he took hold of the dirty chains and with a grunt yanked hard, snapping them. Tossing them aside he gripped the door handles and pulled.

A gust of air, and Spike winced expecting the stench of decay,

“Ugh!” he exclaimed then frowned. There was no scent of decay, only the scent of a strange and oddly pleasing incense, “Wait, no, no ugh, confusion,” Spike frowned and peered inside, Giles coming up beside him,

The temple had been cleaned up nicely. From what Buffy had told them about their expulsion from the Nightmare realm, the two men expected a mess of shattered glass and dried blood. Instead the stones of the floor were clean; the ruined stained glass window was boarded up and the candles were lit. Spike gestured to the boarded up window, a good thirty feet up in the air,

“Hey, how do you suppose someone got up there and fixed that?” He asked wryly.

“Oh, I imagine, with wings,” Giles replied. Spike frowned, there was an odd, strained note in the man’s voice and it took Spike a moment to place it: fear. He turned,

“What are you on about ma-?” he stopped as Giles simply pointed.

Looming above them both was the silhouette of a creature backlit and projected in front of them; Horns, claws, and great bat-like wings that extended with a ‘whoosh’ of air. The candles in the temple flickered as the shadow of the creature spread out to overcome the pair past them and all the way up to halfway above the alter at the far end of the temple. Spike sighed,

“It’s big, isn’t it?” he asked. Giles nodded,

“Yes.”

“And right behind us?”

“Yes Spike I believe it is,”

There was a low growl and the sound of claws on stone,

“It doesn’t sound happy to see us,” Spike observed.

“No, no it doesn’t Spike,” Giles confirmed. Spike sighed

“Oh well, might as well go say hi,” Spike casually turned around, Giles more slowly. Both men looked up to second floor balcony,

It was like a vision from Dante. Huge and powerful muscles, dark skin looking as though it had been blasted in fire. Large talons easily capable of gutting a man, a powerfully muscled chest, thick neck, and a large head complete with a mouth full of sharp pointy teeth and an impressive set of horns tapered to glistening point,

“Wow,” Spike said, impressed. Giles simply nodded as the creature stepped off the balcony it had been perched upon and landed surprisingly gracefully before them, blocking the exit. Its clawed feet dug into the stone floor with the crunching sound of grinding rock.

Up close, and no longer backlit, the pair could examine the creature more completely. It appeared to be a patchwork creation. Several different skin tones were stitched together expertly, creating a latticework of bone, sinew and flesh. Even the pupils of the eye seemed to be a composite, stitches running through the sclera, creating a bizarre multicolored look to the eyes. It made Adam from last year look like a Tinker Toy.

“Well, I guess that answers whether or not the rabbi made something,” Spike quipped dryly in the face of the patchwork colossus. Where its body wasn’t stitched together, bizarre symbols seemed to be burned into its flesh, which looked like it had been blasted red and hard in a furnace,

“Yes, yes so it would seem um…hello,” Giles addressed the creature, “Can you umm...speak?”

“Better than you it would appear,” the creature replied in a smooth, calm voice, startling them both.

“Oh! Well…hello there!” Giles said stuttering slightly at being able to converse with this creature,

“You spoke of Rabbi Mesha. He is dead. Are you responsible?” The creature asked them directly, Giles shook his head,

“No, no we are not. We believe a creature called a ‘Dahaka’ or a ‘fleshdancer’ was responsible for murdering the rabbi and then assuming his identity in an attempt to murder my son and others,” The creature considered this then nodded,

“Yes, that follows with what I witnessed of the creature before I left,” the creature responded. Giles frowned,

‘You encountered the fleshdancer?” he asked puzzled. The creature nodded,

“Yes I did,” he confirmed for the confused pair.

“No offense mate, but you don’t exactly blend in; how did you and for that matter, what were you doing spying on the rabbi and goo-boy?” Spike asked. The creature turned to address the shorter man,

“I was not spying. I lived here. This was my home,” Giles gaped, a terrible thought occurring to him,

“Who are you?” Giles asked. The creature turned,

“My name was Kohen. I was the Rabbi’s student; before I became his experiment. Now you may call me Ashmedai,”

“The Jewish King of Demons,” Giles breathed. Ashmedai bowed sardonically,

“In the piecemeal flesh, so to speak,” he replied bitterly. Spike looked back and forth,

“Hold up, how did you go from nice Jewish boy to Frankenstein with wings?” he asked. Ashmedai chuckled, a sound like stone on glass,

“That is a long story,” he replied. Giles cleared his throat, appalled at what had been done to this young man.

“We have time, and we believe it may be important,” Giles replied. The creature nodded,

“Follow me please,” he instructed simply then turned, “First I must ask, what is the nature of your interest?”

“There is a great evil rising in the west, in our home. We seek the elements necessary to combat it,” Giles replied, “For the sake of our families and our homes,” To his surprise, Ashmedai smiled, a little sadly,

“How noble. Oddly enough, it is that sentiment that gave rise to the golem of Prague all those years ago,” The creature led them up some stairs and opened a trapdoor into what had once been the temple attic and had now been converted into a semi-comfortable living space and probably the only room in the temple aside from the main foyer that Ashmedai’s horns and wing tips did not scrape the ceilings.

He gestured with a clawed hand to the floor, “Forgive the lack of furniture” he explained, “I do not entertain often,” he quipped, smiling slightly as he took the only chair, a battered recliner that had deep gouges torn into it from the creature wings,

“Looking like a gargoyle will do that,” Spike commented, squatting on the floor next to Giles.

Giles frowned at the other man’s rudeness before turning to Ashmedai,
“It’s quite all right, earlier you mentioned the Golem of Prague. To confirm, you yourself are in fact a golem, are you not?” Ashmedai nodded,

“What gave it away? I’ve got everything but bolts in my neck,” he spat bitterly before sighing, getting his rage under control, “Yes, yes I am a golem, created in the image of the demon king, to inspire ‘righteous fear’ in his flock,”

“Hold up, you were created to scare all the other Jews in the area? Why?” Spike asked, Giles answer for him,

“Because a religious leader who can manifest ‘demons’ at a moment’s notice can cultivate a lot of obedience from his flock,” he replied. Ashmedai nodded,

“His sin runs deeper than you know. Using me as his tool of fear and majesty, Rabbi Mesha extended his hand into politics, finance, local businesses, utilizing his position as spiritual leader to cultivate resource and influence in the local community,” Spike shrugged,

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, local holy men dipping into the town well for a little extra bread, it’s been done. I’m not impressed,” Giles sighed taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose,

“Spike, Try to understand this. Say you have an entire congregation of very devoted, deeply religions people. Now say one of them has a good deal of money, you can tell them it’s their religious obligation to tithe some of that to the temple and if they refuse, you send a demon to their house to scare them into doing it. Or say someone in your congregation is running for office and you want to make them more pliable to your wishes using a generous campaign contribution from money that you’ve extorted out of your own flock, followed by a demonic visit should your candidate not tow the line you want him to. It is a pretty powerful incentive. Faith and fear in combination make a powerful ally”

“Faith. Fear. Cut from the same bloody tree if you ask me; bunch of bleedin’ people cowering in sodding mansions of stone and wood begging some old man on up high for a better life; waste of time if you ask me,” Spike snorted derisively.

“Spoken like a man who’s lost his faith. Becoming a vampire wouldn’t have something to do with that would it?” Ashmedai asked.

“Don’t know. Would becoming a freak have something to do with you losing yours?” Spike replied testily.

“My faith has endured, vampire, how has yours fared?” the golem replied. Spike snarled at him,

“Fag off! I’m not going to be lectured at by someone’s bloody cross-stitch project!” Spike roared getting to his feet, fist clenched.

“Enough!” Giles yelled. “Sit down Spike!” Spike glared daggers into them both, and then settled back down upon the floor, arms crossed. Giles sighed and turned to Ashmedai,

“I apologize, Spike is…” Giles struggled for the word, “He’s sort of…he’s an idiot,” Ashmedai chuckled,

“Perhaps, but a brave idiot. If he brawls as well as he brags, he must be useful,”

“I have my moments,” Spike replied evenly, getting himself under control.

“You mentioned that his sin ran deeper than we knew. What exactly did you mean?” Giles asked. Ashmedai’s inhuman face turned grim,

“Let me show you,” he answered.

Willow awoke with a start. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her watch, the little glowing numbers told it was nearly quarter to ten.

And then it hit her.

Alec was gone.

Frantically, she bolted up right and whirled around.

Alec was there, sitting upright on the edge of the bed, staring into the dark.

Sighing in relief, Willow crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him, her hands clasping against his bare chest, she placed a warm kiss on the skin upon his back, trying to ignore the wounds that were still healing.

“Hey you,” she whispered then smiled when she felt his hands come over hers and press together,

“Does the sun still shine, Willow? I’m having trouble seeing it,” he whispered. Willow frowned,

“Well its night time, also we’re underground,” she replied, there was something in this tone she didn’t like. It reminded her of someone she had heard before. She heard the smile in his reply

“Yes, it’s night. It’s always night here. Always dark. And we all linger here, under the cold earth. Buried alive. Screaming for release,” Alec replied. Willow shuttered at his words, thick with despair.

“Hey…” she whispered turning him towards her, he didn’t resist, his legs dangling behind him, “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you,” she whispered soothingly, pulling his head to her breast and rocking him. She realized then who he sounded like, speaking in that stilted broken tone of voice: Drusilla, Spike’s mad paramour.

“Yes, you’re here. And it’s here. I can feel it. It’s waiting for me, there, in the darkness. I can feel it under my skin, behind my eyes, clogging my lungs, strangling me,” Alec whispered, his voice full of dread. Willow frowned kissing his forehead,

“What is Alec? What’s waiting for you?”

“The hungry dark,” he replied in quiet terror and despair. Willow nodded then looked up and gasped.

Daenna was standing in front of them both. Her skin was a bloated blue, her flesh hung from her body like soiled clothes, soaked to the bone. Her eyes were a milky dead white, wide and staring right at her. The corpse opened its mouth and a thick black ooze leaked out, dribbling down the front of what had once been a pretty dress,

“Death cannot save you from the evil that you have brought! Beware!” The old woman threw her head back, black ooze spewing out like a geyser, choking and gurgling. And then her head fell off her body and rolled away.

Willow screamed in terror and brought her hands over her eyes shuddering in horror. Then she felt warm arms wrap around her,

“Shhh love, it’s all right. I have you,” she heard Alec whisper to her, resting his cheek on her red hair. She cried then, partially in horror, partially in grief but also in joy and relief: he was the strong, tender man she had fallen in love with once more, in spirit at least if not yet in body.

“Alec…” she choked clutching to her love. He smiled and kissed her head over and over,

“It’s me, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her.

“I’m so afraid,” she whispered. He nodded and turned to peer down into the dark tunnels, where he could feel the darkness looking back at him,

“So am I, Willow. So am I.”

“Hey! He lives!” Buffy exclaimed joyfully as Willow helped carry Alec into Buffy’s bedroom which had served as the impromptu place of hanging out for the last few days,

“Alec!” Dawn whispered before running over full speed and plowing into him hard, Willow struggled to keep them both aloft as Dawn squeezed him tightly, Alec hugging her back,

“Hey petite, miss me?” he quipped. She nodded vigorously,

“I thought I’d lost you,” Alec smiled,

“Never in a million years, love,”

She smiled up at him, her eyes shining as Alec leaned over, careful not to throw either girl off balance and kissed her gently upon her forehead. Xander walked over,

“Hey man, welcome back to the world, thought you’d taken one hit too many,” he cracked gesturing at the still bandaged young man. Alec shook his head,

“Still here, ready to fight the good fight,” The boy replied cockily. Suddenly a rush of vertigo hit him and he swooned, Willow and Dawn both braced him but he continued to topple,

Until strong arms grabbed him from behind,

“Perhaps you should fight the good fight from a sitting position,” Angel commented dryly. Alec nodded and chuckled looking up into the vampire’s face,

“Sounds like a good idea brother,” Angel hoisted the young man to his feet and helped carry him to the bed as Buffy cleared a space. As Angel set the young man down, his hand brushed against Buffy’s. For a moment, time stood still as Buffy and Angel made eye contact that seemed to last forever in their own private world.

Alec’s eyes flicked between the two then he scowled privately to himself before settling against the mattress. Buffy padded over to her brother and wrapped her arms around him squeezing him tightly and rocking him back and forth,

“Oooh! I am so glad you are not dead or crazy or anything,” Buffy commented, kissing her brothers cheek.

“Yes, we are all glad you have not gone murderously insane,” Anya commented, “We are also quite pleased that we will not have to toss you into a hole in the ground and bury you,”

The room fell silent as everyone regarded Anya with mixed expressions. Anya beamed,

“Yes, very glad,” she reiterated before settling back down next to Xander. Alec chuckled,

“Thank you…I think,” he turned to Angel, “How you holding up, mate?” Angel opened his shirt revealing several indentions from the bullet wounds he had suffered,

“If I can go a while without getting shot or stabbed I ought to be alright,” the vampire commented.

“Heard that one before,” Buffy replied smiling at him. Angel returned it gently then chuckled looking down at his healed wounds,

“It kind of itches a little,” Angel observed. Alec chuckled and removed the bandage from his shoulder, exposing a similar scar,

“The hell you say,” Alec replied grinning. Willow walked over to her lover, placing a kiss on his head and settling in next to him, brushing the white lock of hair from her face. Alec looked around and frowned,

“Where’s dad and Spike?” he asked.

“They went to go check out that temple again,” Buffy commented with a shudder. Alec’s eyes widened,

“Hell, I better get out there,” he pushed himself off the bed and nearly collapsed as his legs gave way.

“Damn it!” he cursed as Willow helped him back onto the bed, “I’m useless!”

“Don’t say that!” Dawn cried out to him. Everyone whirled to face her, astonished at the small girl’s vehemence, it was nearly staggering. Dawn herself looked a little taken aback as well as she stammered “You can still…help with research, you do have the Giles uber-smart gene,” she commented. There were a few chuckles as Willow turned to face Alec,

“She’s right, besides, if we want to make you combat capable all we need to do is stick you in a wheelchair, put some armor on you, have you grow a lance from your arm do-hickie and we can roll you into the enemy,” she cracked. Alec smiled despite himself,

“That’s not funny,” he admonished though he was chuckling quietly as were the others.

“So what’s next?” Alec asked after the laughter had died down.

“Next we strip your bandages, get you cleaned up and put some fresh clothes on you,” Willow informed him. There were a lot of “ooh’s” at this, though Dawn looked stricken a moment before sighing and looking away, unnoticed. Alec nodded,

“Yeah that’d be good actually,” the young man replied as Xander helped him to his feet.

“Whew!” the younger man gasped, waving his hand in front of his face in mock disgust, “You are ripe!” Alec chuckled,

“Anyone tell you its bad karma to pick on the wounded?” Willow punched Xander in the shoulder,

“Ow!”

“See?” Alec grinned then kissed Willow, “Thank you love,”

“Anytime dear,” she smiled prettily at Xander who scowled.

“Yeah you call it ‘karma’ I call it a ‘double cross’”, he replied.

“Now Xander don’t be bitter,” Alec admonished as Willow led him away.

Alec was propped up against the shower stall wall; it was a large open-air shower room, meant to accommodate several men; probably the sewer workers who first worked here. Alec ducked his head under the steaming water, cursing that, now crippled, he couldn’t even stand under a shower or adjust freely to keep from getting water in his face. The steam washed over him, cleaning him. Alec brought a wet hand across his bare torso, touching the rapidly healing scars that his regenerative factor had finally gotten around to tending to.

(If I was human, I would be dead) Alec thought to himself…then started when a peal of deep laughter boomed throughout the confines of the shower.

“What makes you think you are not?” it asked. Alec whirled around trying to see,

“Where are you?!” he demanded.

“What makes you think you are not dead and this is Hell?” the voice asked, sounding closer now. Alec tried to struggle to his feet but it was of no use and the strength in his arms left him, causing him to slump against the wall in impotent anger, exhaling hard and fast out of his mouth,

“Isn’t that where murderers of little boys go…Alec?” The voice asked. Alec brought his fists up to his ears,

“You can’t block me out Alec, I know you. That splash of blood, the screams, that look in their eyes as their life slowly fades out of them. You love it, you live for it,”

“NO!” Alec yelled and lurched wildly, he fell, face first into the tile floor, his nose re-breaking with a crunch. He bit his lip so hard it bled to keep from crying out from the pain and lifted himself up peering into the water pooled on the floor,

There, just behind him, a huge shape loomed dark and evil and overpowering.

“You love it!” it whispered. And with a scream of rage Alec whirled around a blade in his hand springing from his flesh…

…and connected with nothing. The only sound in the shower room was water on tile and the steady flat ‘drip drip drip’ of blood hitting the floor. Alec turned around to peer back into the water on the floor. Tentatively, Alec blew his nose hard, causing a jet of blood to spray out and then gripping his nose firmly he twisted it and with a loud crack of straightening cartilage, he put it back into place.

There was a low chuckle,

“See you soon, Alec,” it promised in a velvet voice, full of evil.

Ashmedai led Spike and Giles down into the bowels of the temple. Since neither he nor Spike required light to see in the darkness, they kept Giles between them so as not to lose him,

“Ow!” Giles cried out as he tripped in the pitch black corridor, colliding into Ashmedai. He felt hard, leather-like skin against his face, a flutter of wing and then he felt strong hands carefully hold him up,

“Thank you,” Giles said into the oppressive dark,

“You are welcome,” the golem replied before continuing on. They progressed perhaps 20 meters or so then turned left down another passage,

“I am stopping now,” Ashmedai warned the blind man. Giles got the hint and slowed then stopped, Spike doing the same.

“A blind watcher, you have to appreciate the irony,” Spike quipped,

“Thrilled beyond words at your satirical acumen, Spike,” Giles replied.

“Eh?”

“It means ‘shut up’,”

Spike chuckled, “Ah, okay then mate, why didn’t you say so?”

There was the sound of a heavy lock being undone and an even heavier door being pushed open. A rush of cold air spilled into the black, Giles shivered as the taste of something metallic entered his mouth. He could smell, now above the musty scent of the stone corridor, antiseptic and metal.

“Step forward please, and brace yourself,” Ashmedai warned before moving off to the side. For a moment, Giles was alone in the dark, panic set in,

“Spike!” Giles called out. He felt a hand on his shoulder, squeeze reassuringly

“Steady on mate, he’s just stepping to the side to get the light,” Spike assured him. Giles nodded,

“Yes. Thank you,” Spike snorted,

“Besides I can’t wait to tell Alec how you’re scared of the dark, yet more irony,” Spike put in. Giles sighed and smiled in the dark,

“Step forward now please,” Ashmedai’s voice rang out. Giles took a step forward as the light from a small wall mounted lantern ignited

Revealing a full scale laboratory.

“Now all this place needs is a hunchback,” Spike observed and Giles could hardly disagree.

Metal hooks hung from the ceiling. A large metal bed was suspended as well. Several books lined the walls with titles like “Gray’s Anatomy” and “Morticians Desk Reference”. Vials filled with blood and other less savory fluids bubbled. A vat of fat cooked on a small burner, tallow burned away at the surface of several half-formed candles. Prints of Da Vinci’s works on anatomy including a life-size “Vitruvian Man” hung on the walls with handwritten notes scrawled upon them. Giles peered at them, then shuddered: blood stains and bits of flesh and hair also clung to the sketches. It was cold in this room, no doubt for tissue preservation and Giles rubbed his hands up and down his arms to stay warm.

“Oy! What’s this do?” Spike asked gesturing at a lever.

“No! Wait, Spike, don’t!” Giles cried out but it was far too late. Spike pulled down the lever and with the sound of metal squealing, gears spun crazily, chains rattled and with a crash, the metal rack that hung upon the ceiling plunged down crashing to a stop at waist height suspended by gory chains. A wave of decay rose up from it and crashed upon Giles; he bent in half choking and heaving at the scent of death and rot that hung from the blood-soaked apparatus. Spike whistled at the sight,

“Bloody Hell. Someone was busy on this thing,” he turned to Giles who was still coughing up bile, “You all right mate?” Giles waved him away as Spike approached the rack,

“Gods,” he whispered in awe and not a little of his own horror. It consisted of two parts, a metal rack, shaped roughly like a sarcophagus and a second part which fit atop it, the ‘lid’ Spike thought.

The rack was lined with barbed hooks, no doubt they dug into the flesh of the person put in there to keep them on their back and still. Leather straps at the wrists, chest, waist, knees and feet further immobilized the subject while some kind of two-piece metal clasp came out from the underside of the bed to lock the throat down. Then the lid probably came down and that was that.

Spike leaned over and sniffed, “It’s old blood,” he confirmed.

“Yes,” Ashmedai added, “It is,” Spike turned to the patchwork beast.

“Yours?” Spike asked though he already knew the answer. Ashmedai nodded, “You will, I trust excuse me. Being here is unpleasant,” Spike waved him away,

“Yeah, sure, bugger off, no worries,” he replied. Spike turned, “You on your feet yet?” Spike asked as Ashmedai padded away, his massive horns scrapping the doorframe. Giles nodded,

“Yes, thank you,” Giles replied, he was leaning heavily on one hand palm against the wall his other hand holding his glasses limply at his waist, swallowing deep breaths of air and trying not to heave from the smell coming from the gory rack. When he looked up he frowned suddenly, focusing on something upon the wall,

“What you got there, mate?” Spike asked. Giles frowned and ran his finger over a spot on the wall; something about it bothered him. It took a moment but he got it: it was the only portion of the wall that wasn’t stained with blood or dust.

“I’m not sure,” Giles replied putting his glasses on and peering at it, frowning. Gently he pressed in with his thumb. And with an audible click, the portion of wall over his thumb depressed and the wall slide away. Giles stumbled backwards in surprise, Spike catching him before they both peered at the newly-revealed room.

A desk with some books, a chair, a trunk, really not much more than an oversized closet converted into a study. Giles had to step sideways to get to the desk. Lying upon it was an old leather-bound book, roughly the size of a paperback. Giles picked it up and opened it, examining it,

“A diary,” Giles confirmed, opening it and peering inside,

“What’s it say?” Spike asked. Giles frowned,

“I’m not sure, it appears to be written in Hebrew. Let me see here,” he sounded out a few words, Spike looked at him curiously,

“You bringing something up mate?” he asked. Giles sighed,

“It’s an Aramaic base as opposed to Anglo-Saxon which is Latin,” he pointed to some numbers, “These are dates, which is what revealed that it was, in fact, a diary,” Giles turned the pages from right to left, something that Spike found odd, Giles caught the look,

“It’s a language that’s read from right to left, backwards in contrast to most Western languages,” Spike nodded,

“Yeah, all right so what’s it say already?” He asked impatiently. Giles frowned at a single line of Hebrew written in black ink stark against the white inside cover,

“ ‘Ata Bra Golem Devuk Hakhomer VeTigzar Zedim Chevel Torfe Yisroel,’” Giles sounded out.

“And what the Hell does that mean?” Spike demanded. Giles frowned in thought,

“It’s a line of text from that story regarding the Golem of Prague. It’s what God supposedly said to the Rabbi who was responsible for the Golem,” Giles gestured at the text, translating “ ‘Make a Golem of clay and you will destroy the entire Jew-baiting company,’” Giles explained, “It’s considered the catch mark phrase of the myth of the Golem,”

“Better amend ‘myth’ to ‘fact’ mate, horn boy over yonder didn’t claw his way out of his mum’s womb looking like that,” Spike put in,

“So it would seem,” Giles responded as he continued to examine the diary further, “This is the diary of the rabbi. It seems to be dated back a few years. The beginning entry…” Giles voice trailed off.

“Yes?” Spike queried.

“My God,” Giles whispered to himself.

“And for those of us who are not bloody psychic?!” Spike yelled. Giles looked up,

“The first entry discusses the death of his eight year old son, heart failure,” Giles replied, “I believe that’s why the rabbi began delving into necromancy and reanimation, he wanted to bring his son back,” Giles gestured to a passage, “Look here, ‘Each cell burns with a new life which apparently lends an unnatural capacity to the body as a whole. This tensile strength may in part aid the body in trapping or retaining an appropriate animating spirit or essence,’” Giles looked up at Spike, “He was trying to bring his son back from the dead,”

“Yeesh, that’s pretty…psychotic,” Spike commented,

“Become a father first, then judge,” Giles retorted. Spike sighed and nodded,

“Yeah all right point, so what happened next?” He asked eager to change the subject, Giles kept reading,

“It talks here about first working with stone, apparently the rabbi at this point in time wasn’t willing to cast off all of his religions teachings about necromancy and kosher behavior yet,” Giles frowned, “It reads that the stone creature he created was ‘three widths of a man and nearly ten feet tall’” Giles brow furrowed deeper with concern, “It doesn’t say whether or not he was successful in animating the stone golem, all it reads is a quote from Shelley “ ‘Power; like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience, Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame, A mechanical automaton,” Spike stared,

“What’s that from?”

“Percy Bysshe Shelley, Queen Mab, III,” Giles replied before turning the page, “Here it begins discussing…oh,” Giles trailed off looking downcast,

“What?”

“It’s discussing the murder and reassembling of Kohen,”

“Right. Okay. Bad. Let’s skip that then, shall we?” Giles nodded and continued on,

“Good lord,” Giles whispered. Spike didn’t even bother, simply glaring at the other man. Giles looked up,

“The last entry, speaks of encountering a strange creature who could ‘fashion flesh as clay,’” Spike gaped,

“That Dahaka thing Alec tangled with?”

“It’s certainly very likely. Apparently the rabbi entered a partnership with it in the hopes of using its fleshcrafting to create a better golem or possibly repair his son,”

“Yeah, instead, ol’ Moses had his skull scooped up and his face used like a discount Halloween mask,” Giles nodded,

“It would certainly appear that way,” Giles tucked the diary in his pocket, “This bears further-“he stopped. Spike frowned,

“What is it?” he asked. Giles shook his head,

“I’m not sure…something,” he sniffed a few times then peered at the trunk.

“Spike would you please drag this out?” he asked. Spike nodded,

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” taking hold of it he dragged it into the laboratory. Spike winced, “Smells like someone who shall remain lifeless has forgotten to do his laundry,”

“I don’t think its dirty clothes, Spike,” Giles gestured at a heavy padlock on the latch, “Can you handle that?” Spike took it and twisted, the latch ripped away from the wood, nearly dropping him on his backside. Dumbfounded, Spike stared at the intact lock then back to the ruined latch,

“Ummm, yeah, no problem,”

Giles stepped over the vampire and opened the chest then gasped.

Inside was the perfectly preserved body of a small eight year old boy. So perfectly tended was his body that it looked like he was merely sleeping,

“The rabbi’s son,” Giles breathed, “But that’s impossible, this body is in perfect condition, yet it must be several years old,” Giles leaned over the body, peering at the inside of the lid, “No refrigeration equipment-“

And without warning the child opened its eyes, a hideous bright pink and hissed at Giles. Giles tried to stumble away but the child lashed out with unholy speed, its child’s hands no longer ending in fingers but ten whip-like tentacles that wrapped around Giles’ head and dragged him closer.

“SPIKE!” Giles screamed out from underneath the greasy folds of grasping skin.

“Holy Christ!” Spike yelled and came running over trying to pull Giles away from the hideous monster. The child creature turned its head towards Spike, glittering pink eyes filled with bestial hatred as its lower jaw split into two portions, left and right, his soft palate folded up over his nose revealing a trilateral jaw filled with teeth and snaking out a long black tongue that opened at the middle and hissed at them,

“Bugger off!” Spike snarled lashing out at the creatures malformed face with his fingers. The creature howled in pain and brought his tentacles over his now ruined eye socket. Spike dragged Giles away and looked at the pink goo on his fingers in disgust,

“Bloody hell,” he muttered then turned at the hissing sound that came from the trunk.

The creature, its head split open and filled with teeth, ruining the appearance of the sleeping child hissed at them, perched precariously on the rim of the trunk,

“COME ON!” Spike roared and charged the creature. The thing leapt at Spike with its unreal speed and collided into him, lashing its tentacles around Spikes head and trying to drag the vampire’s skull into its massive jaws.

And with a bestial cry, Ashmedai charged into the room. He tore the creature from Spike, hoisted it into the air, and brought the writhing abomination’s spine down hard against its unyielding knee. There was a sickening crack as the creature’s spine shattered. The hissing became a mewling whimper as Ashmedai tossed it to the floor and helped Spike to his feet,

“What is this…horror?” Ashmedai asked.

“A parting gift from the Dahaka, same bloke that murdered your rabbi,” Spike informed the golem. The creature on the floor crawled to look up at them, its face resealing once again now resembling a wounded child with a bleeding eye socket and shattered spine. It clawed at Ashemedai’s clawed foot, mewling piteously,

“Sorry mate, not this time, do the honors,” he told Ashmedai. Ashmedai looked down at the lie of innocence and the horror which lay underneath. He brought a single huge foot up and then down, hard. The creature beneath his heel spasmed once then lay slack.

“Yes well, that was probably right up there with me own mum hitting on me as far as most horrible thing to happen to me as of late,” Spike commented. Giles nodded,

“This Dahaka must be stopped,”

“Yes,” Ashmedai concurred,

“Too bloody right,” Spike chimed in then peered at the broken body of the creature at their feet. Giles frowned,

“What is it?” Spike gestured and Giles turned to look. The blood running from its gaping maw trickled onto the floor and between the cracks upon the stone floor. A steady drip could be heard as it dripped through the crack to something beneath.

“Hey Dante, give me a hand with this,” Spike told Ashmedai. Giles gingerly dragged the dead body away, a touch fearful that the hideous child-beast would reanimate and seek once again to devour his head, as Ashmedai and Spike worked their fingers into the cracks between the stone and heaved up and out, tossing the stone back upon the floor.

Spike stuck his head in, “Looks clear,” he observed.

“I cannot fit in such a space,” Ashmedai informed them, “I will lower you both down,” Spike nodded and gripping the golem’s forearms was lowered down into the sub-basement. Giles followed, taking a lantern which Ashmedai handed down to him,

“What do you see?” the golem asked. Spike and Giles looked about the chamber. Some carving tools, a table, a chisel, a few ladders and something else. A glint of metal shined against one wall. Human and vampire examined closer then slowly craned their heads up,

“Oh…bollocks!” Spike whispered.

A shrill electronic ring made them both jump. Giles jerked his hand down to his jacket pocket, removing a cell phone, jerking it open and mashing it to his ear,

“Hello?” he spoke and was rewarded with a burst of static; reception being poor so far underground.

“G-Man, that you?” Xander’s voice crackled and hissed, cutting in and out over the tiny speaker. Giles slapped a hand over his other ear to hear better,

“Yes, I’m here. We have some rather alarming news,”

“We got you beat, you better get back here. Some weird creature is trashing the neighborhood near you. It’s bizarre-

“A statue perhaps? Roughly ten feet tall and three or four feet in width,”

There was a static filled silence then,

“Yeah, that’s right. How’d you know?” a confused Xander asked.

“Oh…” Giles looked back at the wall where a ten foot tall, three foot wide indention was carved into the stone, several chains now snapped and broken lay at the base,

“Call it a hunch,”

“We need to get to them!” Giles exclaimed, hurrying out of the temple to the street.

“Right! We need wheels!” Spike replied. Flagging down a car, he hunkered down to the drivers side window, game face in place.

“Hi! I need your car,” he said cheerily. Inside, an old Jewish woman screeched in fear and shrieking in Hebrew she tore a strange ornament hanging from the rearview mirror and shouting at the top of her lungs pressed it to Spike’s deformed forehead. There was a hiss of sizzling flesh and a scream of pain from Spike as the holy symbol seared his flesh. The car screeched away in a blast of scorched rubber as Spike hopped up and down in pain cradling his brow, spitting out a steady stream of obscenities. He straightened to confront a concerned Giles.

The Star of David had been seared into his forehead. Giles snickered,

“Mazel Tov!” Giles quipped.

“I hate ethnic neighborhoods! I hate ‘em! I hate ‘em! I hate ‘em!” He ranted, “Bloody sodding Hell!!” Nursing his wounds and his pride, he glared darkly at Giles who casually walked over to a parked car and picking up a rock from the street dashed it into the driver-side window, showering the street with glass.

“Subtle,” Spike commented bitterly. Opening the door, Giles crouched down by the steering column and peered intently at it.

“Spike. Come here and rip this off,” Giles instructed.

“With pleasure,” the vampire snarled and stalking over to the car, knelt and plunged his fingers into the steering column, savagely tearing it apart in an explosion of plastic shards and sparks. Giles took his glasses off and pinched the skin of his nose sighing,

“Just the steering column covering, Spike not all of the bloody ignition circuitry!” Giles sighed.

Spike nodded, “Yes well…tell a bloke these things, they are important,” he replied. Giles sighed again and dug his hands into the ignition circuitry, twisting a few together in rapid succession. There was a grinding sound followed by a roar of life as the engine turned over and caught.

Spike whistled, impressed, “Where in the Watcher curriculum do they teach that?”

“I served 18 months for first offense grand theft auto,” Giles turned to regard Spike, “That and playing the computer game a lot,” Giles leveled a deadly look at Spike as he got into the car, “You tell anyone, I promise you you’ll be harmed,”

Spike held up his hands in defense, “No worries mate. A man’s time in the bin is his own business,”

“No. I meant about the computer game,” Giles corrected, shaking his head.

“Oh.”

Spike closed the door behind him as Giles brought the phone up to his ear,

“Xander where are you now?”

There was a crackle of static then,

“Oh, we’re around,”

The golem, a huge stone creature that moved more like a gorilla, propelling itself on its massive stone hands, moved far too fast for something that huge but it continued to head right up first avenue, knocking cars aside like they were toys, sending them (and their occupants) screaming into buildings to blast through storefronts, reducing whole buildings to rubble,

“Someone call Rand McNally, I think their tour guide is going to need a quick rewrite,” Xander quipped, stunned by the devastation the creature was able to wreak.

“Hear hear,” Alec quipped from the backseat of the van. Alec looked down at his useless legs, they had had to carry him into the van, and he cursed his inability to be out there to fight the golem.

“So, do we have something resembling a plan?” Buffy asked, having nearly healed all of her wounds and eager to get back in the game.

“We need to get it away from all these people!” Alec yelled so he could be heard over the sounds of destruction outside.

The group had been resting in the gypsy lair when they got word of the golem’s rampage via a panicked newscaster they heard over Dawn’s portable radio. Eager to be out doing something, ANYTHING, other than sitting around waiting, the group, sans Anya, Dawn, Faith and a still recovering Angel, decided to head out and see if it was really as bad as it all sounded.

It was, in fact, worse.

“We need a distraction!” Buffy replied

“BRAKES!” The entire group howled. Xander slammed on the brakes just in time as the golem had picked up a car and flung it away carelessly where it collided with another car and both ruined vehicles had passed across not two feet from the front of the van to collide into a building and burst into flames.

“Go! Go! Go!” Willow screamed. Xander floored it and the van lurched away from the ruined cars just as their gas tanks ignited and erupted in a ball of flame. Alec turned around to see weakly struggling forms within the burning cars and had to look away, feeling sick.

“This thing has to be stopped,”

“Great, as soon as someone can figure out how to get its attention, I’m all ears,” Xander countered.

Without warning Willow lunged from the backseat and stuck her head and arms out the window.

“Willow!” Alec cried out, trying to get to her, his partially crippled form getting in the way.

“Askteriath Malar!” she cried out and a green bolt of light shot from her hand, catching the golem square in the forehead. It roared, a cold, hollow sound and stumbled backwards a massive hand over its forehead.

“Did that do it?” Xander asked. The creature lowered its hands from its face and turned its massive stone head to regard the van. Its eyes flashed red.

“I’m thinking ‘no’,” Buffy replied.

And with a roar, the golem smashed aside a car and charged them, lurching like a crazed gorilla.

“Go! go! go! go! go! go!” Alec screamed as the massive stone golem attacked them. Xander threw the car into reverse and peeled out as fast as he could as the golem kept advancing.

“Good news! It’s distracted!” Willow commented.

“Bad news! It’s distracted by an overwhelming urge to kill us all!” Alec countered.

“Heads down please!” Xander yelled. Willow grabbed Alec’s head and pulled it down and out of the way into her lap so Xander could continue to drive frantically backwards.

“Gee honey, is this really the time?” Alec quipped lightly, his cheek resting against her thigh.

“Drive now, be a pervert later!” Buffy yelled.

“There, go around that corner!” Willow gestured frantically.

Xander cut the wheel hard and the van lurched around the corner, up onto the sidewalk, backing up into a store window.

“Sorry!” Xander called out before he floored the pedal causing the van to lurch out and away from the storefront, around a building and barreling up Eighth Avenue. Just in time to see a car soar over their van and collide like a bomb into the storefront they had just backed into, annihilating it.

“Nevermind!” Xander added then frowned, “Should I leave a note?” the boy asked.

“Xander, if you for any reason, slow down this car, you won’t have to worry about the golem tearing you apart, I’ll do it!” Buffy screamed at him.

“Do you think we lost him?” Willow asked. They all turned to peer behind them. The golem had yet to come around the corner of the building which served as the entrance to Eighth Street.

“I don’t know,” Buffy squinted peering down the street.

Just in time to see the golem smash THROUGH the building entirely and charge after them.

“Uh-uh,” Alec answered. Xander grimaced and floored the accelerator, pushing it down even further to the floor and weaving through the obstacles in the road, thanking whatever gods would listen that it was a late night and very few people were out.

Of course, the rampaging engine of death directly behind them may have had something to do with that too.

“Hey, this is St. Mark’s place. I wanted to come here for a tattoo,” Alec commented.

“Great, you’ll make a beautiful corpse,” Willow replied. Alec grinned.

“You think so?”

“Down, boy.”

Xander spared a glance into the rear view mirror. The saying ‘Objects may be closer than they appear’ was taking a very grim meaning. The golem behind them opened its stone maw, roared and lurched and suddenly in a squeal of shattered glass and twisted metal, the rear view mirror was torn from the car.

“Well that’s not good,” Alec commented. Suddenly the whole car lurched up and everyone in the car was nearly brained by the van roof.

What the hell was that?” Buffy asked before turning around to face front, “Oh.”

“Good news everyone! We’ve run out of road here at 8th street and Fourth Avenue, we are currently on sidewalk. If you’ll look left you’ll see a piece of modern art commissioned by I Have No Idea, entitled “Big giant metal cube,” Xander gave a running commentary.

“How is that good news, Farnsworth?” Alec asked.

“This is called Astor Place, skateboarders hang out around here, we must be near Lafayette,” Willow added.

“Incoming!” Buffy cried out. Xander accelerated and lurched forward just in time to avoid being crushed by the aforementioned gigantic metal cube which the enraged golem had turned into a missile.

“He’s trashing precious landmarks of the East Village!” Willow cried out.

“I’ll send an angry letter to my congressman!” Alec retorted just as the golem charged after them swatting the massive steel cube away where it flew in the air and annihilated the third floor of an apartment complex.

“We need a plan,” Buffy commented, looking a little ill at how relentlessly the monstrosity behind pursued them.

“We could introduce him to a really attractive pile of rubble?” Xander quipped.

“Xander if we don’t come up with a better plan, we are going to BE a pile of rubble!” Buffy yelled then cringed as she looked behind her to see the creature throw a bus at them.

“Brakes!” Everyone yelled. Xander slammed the brakes on as the bus sailed overhead and smashed directly in front of them, lengthwise, blocking the way.

“Detour!” Xander cried out and cut the wheel hard to the right. The van leapt off the sidewalk and barreled through the large window of a Barnes and Noble bookstore.

“Hey, you’re trashing my favorite store!” Willow lamented.

“The bookworms of the east village will truly rue this day,” Alec commented dryly.

“We have company!” Buffy yelled. The golem had followed them through the bookstore and was currently annihilating the place in its frenzied pursuit.

“Hang on!” Xander smashed through the book store, in and out of the coffee bar section and out the other side barreling down Broadway.

“Trashed a coffee bar and destroyed a piece of art, I know I’ve heard that some place before,” Alec mused.

“Two birds with one stone…sir,” Buffy quipped, “The first rule of Project Mayhem is-”

“Stop quipping!” Willow yelled, clearly the act of being pursued by a killer statue was wearing on her.

And with a crack and roar, the whole building came down on the golem. The Scoobies hit the brakes and turned to look as the dust cloud rose from the ruins of the Barnes and Noble.

“Did that do it?” Willow asked, a little shakily.

In answer, the rubble began to shift and a huge hand burst from the gravel,

“No…” Willow whispered brokenly.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger boat, chief,” Alec commented dryly.

“Of course!” Xander cried out. Flooring the accelerator, cutting the wheel, everyone was thrown to the side as Xander pulled a 180 and headed towards the emerging golem,

“Hey you! Your mother was a tapped out quarry…and your father smelled of elderberries!” Xander taunted the beast as he drove past its remerging form. Buffy sighed in resignation and turned to Alec.

“Remind me that I owe Spike money.”

Alec frowned, puzzled “What do you mean?”

The golem roared and clawed its way out of the rubble and took off after them.

“Because I always thought you were going to be the first one out of all of us here to lose your mind,” she finished.

Alec actually laughed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.”

“I got myself a plan!” Xander cried out joyfully.

“This better be one heck of a plan,” Willow commented darkly. Xander grabbed the phone.

“G-Man, you there?”




Giles and Spike drove slowly up the ruined avenue, completely agog.

“Figures that Buffy would have all the fun the one time I’m not around,” Spike commented forlornly.

“The city is going to be rebuilding for years,” Giles observed grimly.

“New York, what a town!” Spike grinned. The cell phone crackled to life.

“G-Man, you there?” Xander’s voice blasted through. Spike took the phone.

“We’re here, just admiring your friend’s handiwork,” Spike commented grinning.

“Well, he’s behind us, he’s pissed and we’re running out of gas, we need you guys to run interference and lure him away while I get something set up and then lure him back to somewhere else.

“Oh well, is that all?” Spike commented dryly.

“Put Giles on the phone,” Xander directed. Spike shrugged and handed it over to Giles. Giles took it and sighed.

“You know I’ve always hated people who drove while talking on their cell phone.”

“War makes beasts of us all,” Spike commented completely straight-faced. Giles shot him a look as he brought the phone to his ear.

“Xander, what is it you have in mind?”

“Giles call Anya and ask her about someone she knows in the demon realm who can help with this thing, then find the fastest thing you can and get on it. Oh! And make sure she brings that black bag we got from the cops. Tell her that’s crucial!” Xander added.

“Acknowledged,” Giles hung up the phone and began dialing Anya.

“What’s the plan?” Spike asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Giles put his ear to the receiver and listened to it ring.

“What?” A terse voice replied.

“Anya, this is Giles. We have a rampaging-“

“-Stone golem, yeah I heard about it on the radio. Now, why are you calling me?” she demanded.

“We need to know how to lure it away and how to kill it,”

“No problem. On its forehead is the world “Emet” which means ‘truth. Destroy the first letter in it and it becomes ‘met’ meaning ‘death’, which will kill it,” Anya explained.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Giles asked impatiently.

“My suggestion? Crush the head,” Anya answered.

“Yes, well, that should be terribly simple. Which reminds me, Xander wants you to come meet us and bring the black bag from the police station, says he needs something from it.”

A sigh over the phone then, “Fine! Fine! Where can I meet you?”

“Just follow the trail of devastation,” Giles replied and hung up.




Anya hung up the phone and glanced at Angel, Faith and Dawn.

“Well, come on, we have to go help out. Apparently without me, there are totally helpless, as I thought.”

“Loving the humility there, A,” Faith commented dryly, getting up.

“What’s the situation?” Angel asked quietly, getting up slowly. Faith placed a hand on his chest, steadying up.

“Whoa hold up there, babe. Are you sure you should be going anywhere?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, we’re needed,” Angel replied. Dawn got to her feet.

“I’m going too.” Angel turned to face her.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea Dawn-” he began.

Dawn brushed him off, “Three things: one, a lot of people I love are out there and I need to help them, two: leaving me here when we’re not certain whether or not gypsy boy will kill us all falls under the ‘blindingly stupid’ section of thoughts…” Dawn squared off against the tall vampire.

“…And three, if those reasons aren’t good enough for you, then I don’t give a damn WHAT you think,” she turned to Anya and Faith, “Let’s go!”

Dawn left behind three very stunned adults.

“She’s B’s sister all right,” Faith observed.

“No kidding,” Angel replied before heading off after her. Faith and Anya followed, Anya snatching the black bag before leaving.

“For the last time, ‘If you can’t find ‘em, grind ‘em is NOT something they teach in Driver’s Ed!” Faith yelled at Anya who was struggling with the manual transmission on the car they had procured heading away from the gypsy hideout.

“I never took Driver’s Ed!” Anya yelled back, red faced in frustration as the horrible grinding sounds continued as she struggled with the stick.

“I did. Can I drive?” Dawn asked.

“NO!” Faith and Anya both yelled at her. Dawn stuck her chin out.

“Look, I have more experience driving than An-”

“Look out!” Angel yelled. They turned just in time to see a large black car plow into them head on at full speed.

They had time to scream once before the world turned black.





“So what’s this plan?” Buffy asked. Xander jerked a thumb back to Alec.

“He gave me the idea.”

Alec frowned at Xander, “What idea?”


“A bigger building!” Xander replied triumphantly then turned to observe nothing but confusion on the faces behind them, “Just trust me,” he insisted.

“Fair enough,” Alec agreed.

“Umm…hey guys?” Willow put forth.

“Yeah, how far behind us is Stoneface?” Xander asked hurriedly.

“That’s…the thing,” she put forth hesitantly. Xander frowned and started to look at his side view mirror then caught himself in exasperation when he saw and remembered that it was no longer there. He turned.

The golem was gone.

“Uh…where did it go?” Buffy asked.

“That’s just it. It was chasing us, then it stopped and looked like it was listening to something, then it took off another direction,” Willow told them.

“Which direction?” Alec asked.

An explosion in the distance echoed down the street, black smoke curled lazily up against the night sky.

“I’d say that direction,” Buffy replied.




Giles’s phone rang; he picked it up on the second ring.

“Yes?” he asked.

“It’s Anya; I found what you need to lure the beast,”

Giles nodded, “All right, I’m listening,”

“According to this, all you need to do is read certain passages of the Torah pertaining to the ‘enemies of Israel’,” Anya told them. Giles frowned and turned to Spike.

“Spike, would you mind opening the glove compartment and handing me the book inside?” Giles asked. Spike frowned.

“Yeah, sure no problem mate,” he opened the glove compartment and reached in. And then promptly screamed as something in there seared his skin.

“What the hell?!” he roared. Giles leaned over and removed a now-smoking copy of the Torah from the glove compartment as Spike cradled his injured hand and glared daggers at the other man.

“You have to appreciate ethnic neighborhoods,” Giles quipped.

“Piss off, all right?” Spike snarled. Giles brought his ear back to the phone.

“We have it,” Giles spoke into the mouth piece. There was a long silence.

“Hello?” Giles said frowning.

“Sorry, I’m here,” Anya replied. Her voice sounded very strange,

“Are you all right?” Giles asked.

“I’m fine,” Anya said, strained, “Where is everyone meeting you?” There was a small beep over the line indicating an incoming call.

“Hold on Anya, I may have the answer for that right now,” Giles told her, pushing a button, “Yes?”

“G-Man, the big pile of rocks took off up towards Sixth Ave and West 20th, go get it and have it follow you to this address, we’ll meet you there with a big surprise,” Xander recited an address, Giles nodded.

“Understood, but Xander what’s-”

The line went dead. Giles sighed and switched back over to Anya.

“Hello Anya?”

“Yes?!” Anya fairly screamed. Giles frowned, she didn’t seem all right but perhaps that was simply stress. Waving away his concerns, “The golem is heading up Sixth Avenue on West 20th. Xander wants us to meet up at this address,” Giles gave her the address, “Please get there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” Anya replied and hung up.




Anya put down the phone and regarded the knife to her throat.

“Well?” DeGanon casually asked her, twisting the knife gently under her skin, making sure the other gypsies had crossbows leveled against Angel, Faith and Dawn. It wasn’t difficult to ambush them, especially after hitting them head on with a car.

“They said that the golem is going to Sixth Avenue and West 20th street,” she told them.

“That’s the club!” One of the gypsies called out.

“Imagine that,” Angel commented darkly.

“Silence!” DeGanon commanded. Angel regarded the gypsy.

“You know DeGanon, I told my friends once that since we had been accepted by the tribe, your people would never betray us. I hate looking like a jackass,” Angel growled. One of the gypsies raised the crossbow a little higher towards the vampire.

“What I do now I do in service of my lord and for the good of my tribe, sacrifices must be made,” DeGanon replied curtly.

“Catch up on your history, DeGanon, doing screwed up things just gets things more screwed up,” Faith spit out.

“Be still! When your hands are clean of blood, murderer, then we may discuss morality, until then…” DeGanon turned and dug the knife tip a little deeper in Anya’s throat.

“We have a date to keep,” he leaned in, practically eye to eye with the young girl.

“Where are they going?”





“This is your big plan?” Buffy asked askance.

“It’s a great plan, so long as Anya and crew show up with the bag of goodies, we’ll be in the clear,”

“Okay, the suspense is killing me. What’s in that black bag?” Alec asked.

Xander told them.

“Wow,” Alec muttered.

“I second your ‘wow’ and add a ‘yikes!’” Buffy added.

“Are we going to go to jail for this?”

“Probably. I hear the government frowns on this kind of stuff,” Xander replied.

“I’ll be sure to ask Riley in my next e-mail,” Buffy replied.

“Did I mention ‘wow’?” Alec repeated.

They were parked in front of where Xander wanted to golem to be lead to.

A huge, seven-story, parking garage.





“Good God,” Giles breathed when he reached the golems destination.

“Bloody hell,” Spike breathed in agreement.

The golem had found the club, Nocturnal Sacrament and had proceeded to dismantle the place, collapsing the pseudo-cathedral and was currently hammering away at the ground, pounding cement into dust and clawing at the dry soil beneath.

“What’s he going to do, bury a school bus?” Spike asked. Giles shook his head,

“He is under someone’s control. Clearly he has been commanded to do this by whatever force is directing his actions,” the older man explained.

Spike nodded, “So what’s the plan?” Giles opened the book and frowned.

“Well, first we need something faster than this car as transportation. Once the incantation is read, the golem will pursue the reader with the intent of destroying him.”

“Sounds like fun,” Spike replied. Opening the car door, he headed out into the rubble, completely ignored by the golem who was single-mindedly clawing and digging at the earth. Spike snorted.

“Like a bloody hound it is,” he scoffed then found what he was looking for: what was left of a motorcycle from what was left of the parking lot of the club. He hauled it up with a grunt and inspected it. The mirrors were toast and the seat cushion was torn to hell, but other than that it looked serviceable. He mounted the bike and kick-started it. It coughed a few times, then revved to life.

“Yeah baby!” Spike growled grinning. He checked to see if the golem had noticed the noise but, of course, it was still ignoring him. He wheeled it over to the car where Giles waited.

“Question: what are the odds of survival being bait?” Spike asked. Giles shook his head.

“It’s terribly risky but it must be done.”

“And it’ll, what? Follow whoever says the words?”

Giles shook his head, “Uh, no actually it will follow whoever possesses the book which the words are read from,” Spike nodded as Giles began to read the selected passage.

“ ‘Ata Bra Golem Devuk Hakhomer Ve Tigzar Zedim Chevel Torfe Yisroel’!” Giles called out.

For a moment there was nothing, then the book began to glow blue, matched by a glowing light emanating from the golem’s forehead. It turned slowly, almost against its will to face them.

“Yes, well I believe that’s got it. Spike we need to get-” Giles never saw the blow coming as Spike knocked him senseless.

“Sorry mate, but if I let something happen to you, Buffy and Alec would never forgive me,” Spike reached down and snatched up the glowing blue book, grimacing in pain as the holy item seared his flesh. The golem began advancing, first slowly but then gaining enormous momentum.

“All right you beauty! Have a go if you think you’re hard enough!” Spike called out then turned around and, revving the bike so hard it sprang up on one wheel, sped away, the golem hot on his heels as it casually knocked aside Giles’s car, sending it spinning. The impact jarred the man from unconsciousness, he looked around and comprehension arrived quickly.

“Spike, you fool!” Giles cursed before dialing the phone, “Xander, it’s me.”

“We’re on our way.”

“Got it!” Xander hung up the phone and turned to Buffy, “Okay, they’re on their way.” Xander told them all. Buffy nodded and got out of the car.

“Well, let’s go scope things out.” she stated. Willow turned to Alec.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” she asked. Alec shook his head.

“They may need your magic tricks love, besides one of us should be useful,” he looked down at himself with disgust. Willow took his chin in her hands and kissed him soundly.

“I love you,” she told him simply. He smiled.

“I love you too, princess. Now get going.” Willow smiled bravely at him and turned to leave. Alec caught her hand, she turned.

“Be careful…and good luck.” he whispered to her. She smiled and brought his hand to her lips, kissing it before heading out towards the garage.

Leaving Alec alone to think and curse. It didn’t long to start up again.

“Alec, let me help you.”

Alec brought his fists up to his ears, clenched his eyes shut and tried to block out the voice.

“You’re not real.” Alec whispered hoarsely. He was rewarded by a cold chuckle.

“I’m as real as you are, boy.” the voice replied. “And right now, I want to help you.”

Alec grabbed fistfuls of his hair, white knuckled, “I don’t want your help!” he snarled.

“Oh, you’d rather remain here? Crippled. Paralyzed.” Alec could almost feel the voice smile, “Useless?” the voice chuckled again.

“What do you want?” Alec asked.

“I want what you want, Alec; to kill them, to kill them all. Vampire after vampire, demon after demon, monster after monster,” the voice promised.

“How?” Alec asked.

“I can help you become strong again, Alec; stronger than you were. And back on the front lines where we belong.”

“We?” Alec asked.

“Yes, Alec, you and I fighting together to rid this world of these supernatural abominations,” the voice became imploring, “And I want so little in return.”

“And in exchange, I can fight again?” Alec asked.

“Yes, Alec. Your lover and sister need your help,” the voice paused for effect, “And she will be here soon as well Alec. I sense a force of great evil, lurking. Hunting your friends and promising slaughter.”

“What?” Alec lurched forward in alarm. “What is out there?” the young man demanded.

“Someone that you will need my help to defeat.” the voice confirmed. “I give you the opportunity to protect your family, your women, and regain your dignity as a warrior; the chance to become a warrior again. Your answer?”

Alec sighed, his broken body crumpling within the chair. He really didn’t have a choice.

“I accept.”

A surge of power tore through Alec’s crippled frame, he screamed once and then the darkness took him.




“Okay, we’re going to need to buy some time when Stoney shows up.” Xander turned to Willow.

“Got anything that can slow him down?” Willow thought for a moment then nodded.

“I have the Temporal Distortion spell I used in the bar earlier. Instead of speeding things up it could slow something down, but it would take a lot out of me. I could use someone watching my back.”

“That’d be me,” Buffy put in, wrapping an arm around Willow. “I’ve got you covered, Wills, as always,” Willow smiled and patted Buffy’s hand affectionately.

“All right then. Willow, get it ready.” Xander instructed then turned and looked around.

“Now, where to put the toys…”




Spike wove up and down the street. The motorcycle, designed for racing, was more than up to the task of maneuvering down side streets and avenues, leaping over cars and making excellent time. Cars would come crashing down around him, behind him, in front of him as the enraged golem followed close behind.

“Is that all you got? Huh? Come on you great pansy!” Spike roared, loving every minute of it, the yelling keeping his mind off the burning wounds on his forehead and hands from his close encounters with religious objects. He had stashed the enchanted book in his duster; even now he could feel the itching heat of it pressing against his leg, through his duster, whenever it rested against him. Fortunately, high speeds kept the jacket billowing like a cape and kept the book away from his body.

Spike turned down a street, the golem keeping up reasonably well, destroying cars, plowing through buildings and behaving like a psychotic freight train pulled off the tracks.

And straight after him.

“Yeah…” Spike growled grinning and hunkered down lower in the saddle becoming a vampire rocket as he led the golem to his doom.

Or so the vampire hoped.




“Where’s Anya?” Buffy asked. Xander sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know, I really wanted her to be here before the golem got here so we could set up,” Xander replied nervously.

“She hasn’t let us down yet, Xand. She’ll be here.” Buffy assured him. Xander nodded but still looked worried. The slayer headed over to Willow.

“Will, how we doing?” she asked. Willow nodded.

“We’re ready. Just don’t forget all my attention is going to be focused on the spell, so make sure you have my back.”

“Consider your back property of the Slayer.” Buffy proclaimed, then blanched.

“Okay yeah that was a little prison movie wasn’t it?”

“Just a little,” Willow replied.

“Hey does anyone else hear that?” Xander asked. Buffy frowned listening.

“What does it sound like?” Willow asked. Buffy’s eyes got wide.

“Like a psychopath on a motorcycle! Get down!” Buffy cried out. They dove to the pavement just in time to avoid being decapitated by a flying motorcycle with a howling blond vampire on it, which came out of nowhere, flew up and over the curb and sailed over their bodies. Spike dove from the bike and landed hard next to Buffy as his bike continued like a rocket and slammed into a concrete support, exploding into metal fragments and flame. Spike covered Buffy with his body as the shrapnel sprayed both of them.

“Nice entrance,” Buffy commented, looking up at her lover.

“Well, anyone can use a door,” Spike offered cockily as his defense.

“Anyone but you sweetie,” Buffy replied kissing him.

“We have company!”

The group looked up to see the massive golem bearing down on them quickly.

“Willow, now!”

Willow removed a watch from her pocket.

“Goddess Hecate, light of path, invoke now time’s cruel wrath. Temporis Languis!” Willow finished the spell and hurled the watch at the creature. It struck the stone goliath and with a burst of light, crackles of yellow energy crawled over its body.

The golem slowed down to barely a crawl.

Xander shouted in triumph, “You got him, Wills! You got him!” he laughed. Willow nodded, her hands glowing yellow as her muscles strained to keep the beast slowed down. Xander chuckled and went back to examining a pillar.

‘Tell me Wills, how come magic has to rhyme? I mean isn’t it a little Harry Potter?” He asked absentmindedly.

And without warning his arms were jerked back behind himself.

“Yes,” an inhuman voice whispered into the boy’s ear, “It is.” And grabbing a hold of his arms, Viisq pulled and began to stretch Xander. Bones began to separate as Xander screamed in agony. Buffy turned.

“Xander!” She charged the pair. Viisq spun around and threw Xander at her…but not before he laid his hands upon the boys arm and squeezed.

And with the sound of tearing flesh and sinew, the bones in Xander’s arm swelled and exploded. Xander screamed long and high in agony as he clutched at the ruins of his arm and he collapsed into Buffy, unconscious. Buffy lowered her wounded friend to the pavement and regarded the monster before her.

“You…” she whispered lethally finally meeting the creature that had paralyzed and tortured her brother, had had Angel shot to pieces and now had maimed her best friend.

“Me.” Viisq replied evenly, “Are you going to abandon your little witch while she keeps my golem at bay?” it asked the enraged slayer. Buffy gritted her teeth in frustration; she wanted nothing more than to annihilate this….freak, but Willow needed protection.

“Buffy?” the slayer turned to face Willow. The young witch was now nearly glowing yellow and gritting her teeth with the exertion of grinding down the massive stone golems attempts to break free and kill them all. Willow tore her head away from the spectacle of the ensorcelled automaton to regard her friend with a burning intensity.

“Kick his malformed ass,” Willow rasped. Viisq had time to look surprised briefly before Buffy plowed into it with the speed of a freight train. Buffy snarled, slamming a fist into the creatures face, “That’s for Angel,” she spun Viisq around and slammed a booted heel into its spine. “That’s for my brother,” She grabbed the creature again and taking a grip on its arm, braced it against a stone cement support, bent then broke it, “And that’s for Xander,” she finished before beginning to rain blow after blow upon the alien monstrosity. Viisq reeled under the onslaught of slayer-strength blows. Its bones were being demolished faster than it could recreate them. Buffy drew back a fist.

“And this is for me,” she threw the punch and was brought to a jarring halt as the Dahaka got a hand up, reshaped into a massive, pseudopod, requiring no bones.

“And this is for fun,” The Dahaka hissed at her. Concentrating, he called to the young girl’s flesh and the skin of Buffy’s hand began to ripple grotesquely as her bones started to separate. Buffy drew back another hand in desperation when suddenly a piece of metal flew from nowhere and sliced Viisq’s tentacle free from its body. Buffy fell backwards, cradling her wounded hand.

“Get your filthy hands off my girl you damn dirty freak,” Spike snarled, getting to his feet and readying another piece of motorcycle shrapnel. Viisq screeched at the vampire and leapt up into the air, his tentacles growing claws and gaping maws intent on consuming Spike.

And with a roar, his game face in place, Spike lunged up with the sharp metal. The Dahaka’s skin split as the makeshift weapon sliced up into its groin, through its ribcage and out the top of its head. The creature landed behind Spike, who rolled to get away from the now-bifurcated monstrosity. Viisq collapsed upon the concrete floor on the parking garage and desperately tried to reform. Spike rushed over to Buffy,

“Are you all right luv?” he asked worriedly. Buffy smiled weakly and cradled Spike’s vampire face with her uninjured hand.

“Your timing is really great,” she whispered. Spike smiled and kissed her hand.

“Nobody touches my girl,” he whispered back fiercely. Buffy smiled, and then froze as she peered past Spike. Viisq had gotten to its feet, its body realigned and healed. Spike turned his head to face the creature and with a roar of vampiric rage charged head on as Buffy moved towards the wounded Xander, cradling him.

“Get the line right you wanker. ‘This is my rifle!’” Spike slammed the sharp piece of metal into the creature’s gut, cutting it open deeply, causing it to wail in pain, ““this is my gun!’” Spike brought the blade up cleaving off Viisq’s arm that had been reaching for him, “’This is for fighting!’” Spike slashed the wildly-flailing monstrosity across the throat, the creatures head lolled back crazily, dangling and held to its collar by a few threads of putrid flesh. “And THIS is for fun!” Spike brought his boot up hard right between the creatures legs sending now pureed monster up into the air to land hard on the top of car,

“Any questions?” Spike quipped casually tossing his makeshift weapon aside.

“One,” Viisq hissed. Without warning, gutted monstrosity lashed out a tentacle catching Spike around the throat, entangling him and dragging him towards itself. Spike scrambled with his hands, catching hold of his discarded weapons as he was dragged towards the beast.

“Spike!” Buffy cried out in terror as Viisq sprouted a set of hands from its own torso and placed them lightly on the struggling vampires face.

“What will you look like without your face?” Viisq asked. Spike readied himself to strike as the creature summoned its unnatural powers, calling to Spike’s flesh.

Nothing happened.

Viisq frowned and tried again, but Spike’s flesh would not answer his call. Spike grinned.

“Imagine that,” Spike quipped, “Dead flesh doesn’t shape nicely…” Spike grinned as Viisq looked horrified, and then promptly drove the metal shiv deeply through the top of the beast’s head. Viisq wailed in pain, a huge maw erupting from its chain to echo the screeching howl of agony.

“…or maybe I’m just special!” Spike finished. Snatching up another piece of metal, he advanced on the incapacitated monster.

“And now, I’m going to take your head off,” Spike promised. He advanced to finish the job when a crossbow bolt embedded in his shoulder, spinning him around like a top and dropping him to the floor near Buffy, sending his new weapon spinning away.

“No!” Buffy cried out in shock and fear for her lover.

“I’m afraid that cannot be permitted.” a deep voice said, dripping with a familiar accent.

DeGanon stepped across and away from the car, reloading his crossbow. Spike rolled onto his back, his face changing back into human form.

“You filthy ponce, I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Spike gritted out as Buffy pulled him to her.

“That was your mistake,” DeGanon replied, he gestured to the other gypsies in the car who brought out Dawn, Anya, Angel and Faith and kept them at crossbow point.

“Dawnie!” Buffy cried out. Dawn tried to go to her but was held at bay by one of the gypsy’s weapons. Buffy turned her gaze to DeGanon

“Why?” Buffy asked.

“Oh yes, tell them DeGanon,” Viisq commented, pulling the shiv out of his skull and reforming, “Tell them all about it, won’t you…father?”

“Father?” Buffy gasped turning to DeGanon.

“Nikolas! That is enough!” DeGanon roared.

“It’s ‘Viisq’ now father. Remember when you and the elders put me and the others in the earth to absorb its power so we could protect your worthless hides?” Viisq smiled sickly, “Do you like what you’ve created?”

“What choice did we have, Nikloas?” DeGanon screamed, “The Turks were at our very borders, they had filled our forests, our masters’ lands-!”

“YOUR masters’ lands! Not mine! NEVER mine! You are free to spend the rest of eternity supping at his wrist to extend your wretched existence, I will not!”

“Traitor!” DeGanon howled in hatred.

“I hate to break up this touching and really sick family reunion but there is something out there that weighs ten tons and is really pissed off and my friend is the only one holding it at bay,” Buffy yelled. Spike turned to look at Willow, her face was pale and drawn.

“She’s right,” Angel informed them coolly, “Sooner or later Willow’s enchantment is going to wear off and when it does, it’s going to kill us all.”

“No, it will kill all of you. Those of you who have heard secrets you were not meant to hear,” DeGanon replied, “I have been forced to slay my own people, vampire. To protect them, to protect this secret.”

“Spoken like a true hypocrite,” Viisq sneered, “Killing off the sheep to protect them…and yourself, of course.”

“I was not the one who betrayed our people by renouncing my heritage! My responsibilities!” DeGanon roared, “Enough of this!” The gypsy chieftain brought the crossbow up for a final time.

“Our secrets shall remain where they started: buried in the earth,” He took aim at Willow, too busy keeping the golem at bay to defend herself, and fired.

“No!” Buffy cried out in terror. The bolt raced forward…and came to a jerking stop as a tendril of darkness wrapped around it.

“Change of plans,” a voice called out from above. Everyone one who could, looked up and gaped.

Alec descended from the vastness of the garage, six tendrils of darkness protruding from his body that writhed and gripped the stone around him, his useless legs now suspended by his new form of transportation.

“Alec!” Buffy cried out in joy…and in a little bit of fear at the awesome sight. Alec lowered himself to the ground floor, two tendrils supporting him a full six feet off the ground, the other four hissing and snapping, purple energy coursing through them. Alec held his hand out and a blade appeared through his palm. One of the tendrils gripped the blade, as naturally as a third hand and removed a complete sword from his arm before deftly placing it, hilt first in his hand. Alec readied the sword as the tentacle that held the crossbow bolt brought it up before his eyes.

“You have betrayed us for the last time, DeGanon.” Alec whispered darkly. The tentacle flexed once and the crossbow bolt shattered.

“My God!” One of the gypsies whispered in shock, crossing himself. An ear-splitting screech broke into their dread reverie. Viisq, paralyzed by whatever passed for fear in its alien mind at the sight of Alec, began to convulse wildly as its body changed shape. One of Alec’s tendrils lashed out and knocked the shapeshifting creature aside and out of the way.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Alec promised, “First…”

With a scream, DeGanon frantically reloaded the crossbow. Angel took advantage of Alec’s diversion, snatching one of the gypsies by the head and dashing him into the roof of the car. Faith followed suit sending a vicious backhand to the other one who held Anya and Dawn captive, knocking his crossbow out of his hand with a snarl and kicking him once in the head. Anya grabbed Dawn and pulled her out of harm’s way. As Anya hit the dirt, movement caught her eye, she focused then gasped when she saw Xander, arm missing, trying to crawl towards them.

“Xander!” Anya cried out and without another word she charged past the golem, towards Viisq, Alec and DeGanon.

DeGanon had finished reloading his crossbow and brought up to bear against Alec who was advancing at a terrifying pace. He fired, then cried out in dismay as one of Alec’s tendrils came up from behind the boy’s back and knocked it away with a simple flick. Then Alec was on him. He brought his sword down, shattering DeGanon’s crossbow and knocking him back. Then two tendrils wrapped around the gypsy’s arms and hurled him away into the windshield of his own car. Two more tendrils pressed the other two gypsies through the backseat doors and into the car. Then with a grunt, Alec took hold of the entire car and, with a screech of tortured metal, sent car and gypsies airborne and away, nearly decapitating Anya who ducked just in the nick of time and raced to Xander’s side.

“It’s okay” she whispered, “I’ve got you.” Anya bent down and kissed her wounded lover’s forehead as he brought his one hand up to squeeze hers.

“The…bag?” he asked weakly. Anya nodded and took it off, opening it for him to see. He reached in and carefully removed the objects he had stolen from the EOD van:

Several C-4 charges and a detonator.





Giles had just enough time to see the flying car coming at him.

“Oh good lord,” he lamented before hitting the brakes and cutting the wheel tightly, skidding out of the way as the car crashed down and skidded away on its roof in a shower of sparks away into the dark. Giles floored it and arrived at the scene of the battle, taking in the paralyzed golem and the prone Angel and Dawn. Hurriedly he parked and ran to them, leaving the car running.

“What happened?” Giles yelled. Angel looked back and smiled slightly.

“Your son just threw a car,” he replied matter-of-factly. Giles turned and peered, then his jaw sagged open at the sight.

“My God,” Giles whispered at the sight of his son.

Alec propelled himself towards his father, lowering to eye level.

“Hi Dad,’ Alec quipped. Giles just stared agog at his son’s transformation.

“What have you done to yourself, Son?” Giles whispered. Alec frowned,

“What I had to, Dad,” the younger Giles replied.

“ALEC GILES!!!!” an inhuman voice roared. They turned; Viisq had recovered from his shapeshifting seizure and now appeared as an eight foot goliath, heavily muscled with bones protruding from its body. “Come die!”

“Dad, get Buffy, Spike and Xander out of there and protect Willow. She’s the only thing holding that golem at bay and she has to be weakening,” Giles nodded as Alec rose up from the ground and readied for war.

“Yeessssss!” Viisq hissed as Alec approached.

“Time to die, monster,” Alec promised. And with a roar, the transformed Viisq attacked, massive spiked fists hammering. Alec scuttled out of the way and slashed with his sword, cutting a deep gash into the creature. Viisq hissed in pain and looked down at the wound in contempt,

“The puppy has teeth,” it commented darkly. Then the wound healed over, “But I am a master of flesh, wounds mean nothing to me,” It roared and charged Alec again.

Giles helped Buffy to her feet, “Are you all right?” he asked worriedly.

Buffy nodded, “Flesh-boy just nearly gave me a case of terminal arthritis,” she quipped, helping Spike to his feet, “Xander’s hurt badly though and we need to help Alec.”

“I don’t think Doc Ock over there really needs our help luv,” Spike observed dryly and indeed Alec seemed to be holding his own, his tendrils helping him move faster than Viisq could attack.

“Help Xander,” Buffy told Giles. The older man nodded and started to make his way across the battlefield as Buffy led her lover away.

“I could have taken him,” Spike muttered.

“I know,” Buffy replied with a slight smile to assuage her lovers’ ego.



“You cannot run forever weakling!” Viisq bellowed, picking up a car and hurling it at the boy. Alec’s tendrils lashed up, grabbing the ceiling of the parking garage and lifted him out of harm’s way as the car crashed down and exploded, the fire giving the place a hellish glow. Alec whipped across the ceiling, appeared behind Viisq, and lashed out, wrapping about the monster and hurled him hard into a wall.

“I don’t intend to.” Alec replied as Viisq picked itself up from the rubble.

Giles crawled over to Anya and Xander attempting to stay clear of the two combatants.

“We need to get out of here,” Giles told them and trying not to stare and the bloody ruin of Xander’s right arm.

“Wait…” Xander rasped, “The plan…bombs on support pillars…bring golem in,” And just like that, it clicked in Giles’s brain.

“Of course!” Giles reached into the bag removing the thick grey bricks of C-4 from the satchel. “How do I arm them?” he asked.

“Peel white paper off the back…sticky underneath,” Xander rasped, “Press the bombs onto the pillar, flip switch to ‘remote detonator’…and then push the red button twice to arm,” Xander lay weakly against Anya, who kissed him gently and tried to shield him from the battle. Giles nodded and began to work.



Viisq roared and charged Alec, leveling a savage blow to his head. Alec brought two tendrils up, locking them together to deflect the blow. Two more tendrils wrapped around Viisq’s head, holding him in place as Alec slashed across the creature’s eyes with his sword. Viisq yowled in agony as Alec hurled the monster away.

“Nice!” Spike yelled out in encouragement then winced as Buffy snapped off the crossbow bolt still lodged in his shoulder and pulled it out,

“Quit being a baby,” Buffy admonished.

“Is he going to be okay?” Dawn asked. Buffy nodded.

“Yeah, he’s a toughie,” the slayer replied, punching Spike in the arm playfully.

“Ow!” Spike yelped.

“Sorry.”

Dawn turned to view Alec and Viisq, “Alec’s going to need help,” the young girl whispered before reaching a decision and heading away from Buffy, Angel and Spike, who were too wrapped up in what they were doing to notice.



Viisq regained its footing and grabbed a piece of flaming debris, hurling it not at Alec but at Willow who looked ready to die any moment, her whole body aglow with yellow, her skin drawn tight and beaded with the exertion of keeping the golem at bay.

“Willow!” Alec yelled and dove to intercept the wreckage. Viisq saw his opening; he charged the distracted man. Alec knocked aside the wreckage away from his lover but was not able to avoid the mammoth Viisq who collided into Alec like a linebacker sending him flying across the garage and smashing into the concrete wall, showering dust and rubble upon him.

Alec inhaled frantically, trying to regain his breath; one of his ribs felt broken, the others simply felt like they had vacated the premises. He coughed a gob of blood out, spitting it onto the ruined gravel floor and grimaced as he felt his inhuman healing factor kick in, first setting the broken ribs with a series of audible “crunches” then healing them.

But they would not be able to heal him before Viisq was upon him.

“And now,” Viisq hissed, picking Alec up by the head, “You die.” Viisq began to squeeze and Alec felt the bones in his skull began to separate. Blinding light filled his vision and Alec knew his was going to die.

Viisq turned as the blinding lights came towards them both. It squinted hard, trying to discern this new threat. It became a set of headlights racing towards them both. Viisq hissed in dismay which gave Alec a chance to slash up with his sword, severing the claws that engulfed his head. Viisq screeched in rage and pain and stumbled away, dropping Alec who rolled out of the way as the car collided with Viisq hard, plowing him into a concrete support with a crunch of metal and bone.



Giles finished setting the last bomb as directed by Xander, who was drifting in and out of semi-consciousness from the pain and blood loss of his injury.

“That’s the last one,” Giles confirmed. Xander nodded to the other man weakly as Anya looked up worriedly.

“Xander’s turning white and he isn’t breathing too well, we need to get him out of here!” Anya cried out. Giles nodded as Xander reached over into the bag and removed a small remote, handing it to Giles.

“After we get everyone out, push this and the whole place will come down,” Giles nodded and examined the remote. His face went pale.

“Xander, the antenna for the remote is gone,” Giles displayed the tiny metal stub that was once the detonator’s antenna. Xander groaned in dismay.

“Without that antenna the effective remote detonation range is about three feet,” Xander informed them wearily.

“So what do we do?” Anya cried out. Xander looked into Giles’s eyes, sending him a look of weariness, pain and determination that said it all. Both of them looked at Anya.

“I love you Anya” Xander whispered as Giles moved off to the side.

“Aw…that’s sweet Xander, I love you to-” Anya crumpled in mid-sentence as Giles struck her in the back of the head, dropping her into unconsciousness. Giles picked her up and handed the remote to the wounded Xander.

“Make sure everyone gets out of here,” Xander instructed the older man before he turned his gaze to Anya, “Make sure Anya is okay…and that she knows why I did this and that-” Xander couldn’t go on, too overcome with emotion. Giles took the other man’s hand and squeezed tightly.

“I will tell her,” Giles promised. Xander nodded and sagged against the concrete support, holding the remote tightly and fixating on the small grey and red package across from him. Giles stopped and turned,

“I’m very proud of you Xander,” Giles told him quietly, his own emotions threatening to silence him. Xander smiled weakly and gave the other man a thumbs up.

“Can’t be the Zeppo forever,” the wounded boy smiled, “Now get out of here G-man.”

Giles, blinking back tears of his own, took the unconscious Anya away from Xander as the other man prepared to do what he had to do.

Dawn ran out of the car, bleeding from a cut on her forehead where her head had hit the steering wheel upon crashing into Viisq. She skidded to a stop next to the prone Alec.

“Are you all right?” she whispered. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

“Yeah,” he rasped, taking her hand in his and her placing her tiny hand over his.

“You fought really well…Doctor Octopus,” she teased gently. Alec smiled back and coughed, weary and battered.

“Thanks petite. You drive a mean SUV,” Alec returned. Dawn smiled.

And like a nightmare, the car was tossed away and Viisq, gory and scorched, came marauding out of the wreckage.

“What a touching scene….” The creature rasped. Its own body was nearly broken but it was animated by sheer hate and bloodlust. The parking garage was a scene of ruin; cars annihilated, cement dug up all the way down to the dirt and cracks in every surface.

Dawn pushed Alec behind her.

“You’re not touching him,” the dimunitive girl promised the advancing monstrosity, her hands braced in the earthen floor that had been exposed by the battle. Dawn was oddly acutely aware of every detail of the soil underneath her fingers, down to the last piece of grit that rubbed between her fingertips. Viisq threw its malformed head back and laughed.


“Dawn!” Buffy cried out and tried to dash into the garage, Faith threw an arm around her, stopping her.

“Hold up B!” Faith cried out.

“Let go of me, that’s my sister, she needs my help!” Buffy screamed.

“Let her do this, Buffy,” Faith said quietly. Buffy stopped and turned on her, “Just this once, let Dawn fight for something she loves,” Faith finished as she turned to send Angel a long look.



“So, little girl, you wish to die along side him? You are more than welcome to, I shall enjoy soaking the earth with your blood.” Viisq hissed and swung a massive claw at them both

“Dawn!!” Alec screamed out and lashed desperately with one of his tendrils, knocking the razor sharp tip of the claw aside but not enough so that Dawn could avoid the blow completely. The tiny girl was knocked to the ground, she exhaled hard bringing up a cloud of dust as her lungs deflated, her cheek resting against the earth. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her face to mix with blood from her forehead all of which pooled upon the earth.

“Ah so the puppy still has a little fight left in him,” Viisq sneered bringing both its massive fists over its head to crush them both.

Dawn looked up, “STOP!” she cried out.

The fists came down.

Suddenly, the young girl felt a power race through her body, through her blood and tears, through her hand into the earth.

And the earth answered.

With an explosion of soil and stone, Viisq was sent hurling backwards. Dawn cried out and shielded Alec’s body with her own. The scent of pine filled the room and a confused voice called out.

“All right, what am I doing here?” it asked. Dawn blinked back tears and wiped the blood from her eyes and stared and then gaped in wonder.

A tree had sprouted up, no slim reed, but a mammoth oak with a trunk easily eight feet in diameter in the spot where Dawn had been in contact with the earth.

“Who said that?” Dawn asked very confused. The tree rustled and then twisted on its own trunk to reveal a large, heavily muscled male torso, head, and arms, all in wood and leaves, regard her. Dawn stared.

“Who…what?” she stammered. The head nodded.

“A little of both actually, Hi, I’m Pan,” the tree-man told her, “And you are?”

“In trouble!” Dawn yelled and pointed behind Pan. Pan swivled on its trunk and saw Viisq.

“Whoa, ugly!” Pan cried out in dismay at the scarred and bloody goliath.

“Foolish creature; I shall smash you into splinters and then butcher both the girl and her lover,” Viisq spat out.

“Well, you’re really quite unpleasant,” Pan observed candidly.

“Help us!” Dawn cried out.

“Right-o!” Pan replied raising a branch and smiling. And with a creak of wood, the branch split off into two points, then four, then sixteen all in a span of a heartbeat and raced towards the monster. Viisq didn’t even have time to scream as he was impaled by dozens of oaken shafts.

“Hi-ya get along there…whatever the hell you are,” Pan quipped, pulling his arm back and sending the impaled monster to collide hard flush against a support… but not hard enough to dislodge the small gray and red package attached to the other side.

“Sit. Stay. Good dog.” Pan laughed as the pieces of wood in Viisq’s body began to writhe and wrap around the creature fastening it to the pillar. Within moments Viisq was imprisoned in a cocoon of vine and wood that he could not hope to move within, let along escape.

“Yes, well, I think that’s gone rather well,” Pan smiled, very satisfied with himself.

And with a cry of exhaustion and pain, Willow slumped forward into agonized unconsciousness, the yellow glow faded from her body.

The stone golem charged forward, no longer held at bay by the witch’s spell. Pan swiveled to face as it charged forward towards him,

“Oh…nuts,” Pan lamented before the golem lashed out with a massive stone fist and shattered Pan, blasting him into splinters and earth.

“Pan!” Dawn cried out in dismay. The stone golem turned its massive head slowly to regard the two people at its feet. Alec turned to look at Viisq…and caught a gleam of triumph shine from those inhuman eyes as they peeked out from its wooden prison,

“No!” Alec cried out as the golem lunged towards them…and was knocked aside with a roar of rage. Alec couldn’t believe what he was seeing: something huge with wings was battering at the stone golem with its bare hands and howling in…

…Hebrew?

“Get out! Get out now!” Ashmedai screamed as he hammered the stone golem with his fists and wings.

“What about you?” Alec called out.

“I shall return to Abraham! And I shall take this monstrosity with me! Go now!” Ashmedai screamed. Alec wasted no time; he wrapped his tentacles around Dawn and thrust her out and away from the battle and towards Buffy and the others outside the garage.

“Alec!” she cried out reaching out to touch him. Their fingertips brushed against one another for a heartbeat as their eyes met and then Dawn was outside.



“Alec!” the young girl cried out again.

“Dawnie!” Buffy said, wrapping her arms around her sister.

“We have to help Alec!” Dawn screamed. Buffy shook her head.

“Alec’s coming I promise! We need to help Xander, he’s still in there!”

“Xander…does not want our help,” Giles said quietly. Buffy whirled on him…and then suddenly comprehension dawned in her eyes.

“NO!” she screamed out.



Xander was dying, he knew it. He’d lost too much blood and with that crazy gargoyle rassling with the golem there’d be no way he could get out and away.

Then again, that wasn’t his plan.

Coughing, Xander looked over and saw Alec making his way out, Willow carried over his shoulder.

“Hey Alec! You have a way out of here?” Xander called out. Alec turned and nodded.

“Good!” Xander gestured to Willow, “Take care of her and yourself and everyone else.” Xander finished.

Alec frowned, puzzled at the wounded boy. Xander could have laughed at the look, remember how fierce and confident Alec usually looked.

It was as good a sentiment as any to go out on.

Xander smiled once…

... And pushed the button.

There was a flash of light, and Xander for some reason saw Buffy and Willow and Dawn and everyone and they were smiling and happy. Xander smiled back at them feeling like what he had always wanted to be:

A hero.



The garage came down, the explosives chopping the supports off at the base and with a groan of stone on stone, all ten floors of stone, cement and automobiles came down in a deafening crash. Everyone ducked beneath the car as the shockwave washed over them, pelting them with shards of stone and dust.

There was a long groan of stone and metal and then nothing.

Everything was quiet.

Slowly, Buffy peeked her head over the car and stared at the rubble and the rising dust cloud.

“XANDER!!!” she screamed out long and loud that ended in a choked sob at the death of her friend. Others got to their feet, slowly, unsteadily, in shock at the devastation and at the death of the young man.

“Oh no, oh man,” Faith whispered in dread.

“Xander…” Dawn whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks. Suddenly something grabbed her heart and squeezed.

“ALEC?! Where’s Alec?!” She screamed. Everyone jolted out of their grief looked around frantically.

Willow’s body slumped to the ground. Everyone turned; Alec was standing there, suspended there by his tendrils wrapped in darkness that was slowly dissipating around him.

“So did everyone just forget that I can move through shadows?” he asked plainly. He was covered in dust and bloody but alive.

“Alec!” Dawn cried out and raced to him wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tightly, crying freely, “Xander he was…”

A groan of pain caught Dawn’s attention; she looked over and gasped.

Xander was wrapped in darkness, being held by two of Alec’s tendrils. He too looked the worse for wear but he was alive.

“Xander!” Buffy cried out and ran to him looking up at her weary brother, “Is he…?”

“…Dumber than I ever thought and more heroic than I ever gave him credit for, but he’ll live to fight another day,” Alec confirmed. Buffy wrapped her arms around her brother, squeezing in beside Dawn.

“Thank you for saving him,” Buffy whispered. Alec smiled, feeling happy for the first time since his crippling.

“What are big brothers for?” Alec replied back, smiling. Giles walked over to his son.

“Son…what you did was…amazing,” Giles told him. The girls made room as father and soon embraced.

“Oh for God’s sake this gets anymore Hallmark I’m going to wretch!” Spike yelled, “Someone please stake me!”

Angel handed him the broken shaft of crossbow bolt DeGanon had shot him with, “Now shut up,” Angel told the other vampire. Spike waved him away and walked towards Alec.

“Nice moves mate,” Spike told his friend, extending his hand. Alec nodded and slapped his friends hand.

“You too,” Alec replied.

“We need to get Xander’s arm fixed up, he’s lost a lot of blood,” Buffy whispered gravely.

“I can help with that,” a voice called out from beneath them. Everyone frowned and looked around puzzled.

“Down here you idiots!” The voice called out. Dawn saw it first and gasped.

A single rose had sprung up and from its blossom, a familiar personage.

“ ‘By any other name’ right?” Pan quipped. Dawn frowned as she knelt down.

“But you were killed!” She gaped.

“You carbon based life-forms are so three-dimensional in your thinking, its terribly limiting,” the talking rose leveled a leaf at the young girl chastising, “From you though I expected better.”

Dawn frowned, “From me, what do you mean?”

“All will be explained, come to my workshop. Bring your mangled friend, I think I have something here that can help him,” and with that the rose wilted, died and was blown away by the wind. Dawn blinked a few times in confusion and then walked over join the others who were helping Willow, Xander and Alec rest.

“Okay a talking rose named Pan said we need to go to his workshop so he can tell us stuff and help Xander,” Dawn informed them plainly. Spike frowned.

“Excuse me Nibblet, but when did you go insane and how did I fail to notice?” he replied. Buffy waved it away as she finished fastening a tourniquet to Xander’s stump.

“It’s a long story dear, let’s just get going,” Buffy replied. Everyone piled into the van which was dusty but none the worse for wear.

“Hey…” a groggy voice called out. Everyone turned to stare as Anya regained consciousness, “Did I miss anything?” she asked. Then she caught a look at the ruins of the garage, “Oh.” Anya looked up at Giles, “Hey, did you hit me in the head?”

“Yes,” Giles replied as he got into the car.

“It’s something we’ve all been wanting to do for a while, luv,” Spike added.

Giles cleared this throat, “Well you see Anya…” he explained.

A few moments passed.

“HE DID WHAT?!?” Could be heard being screamed by a very angry woman as the group drove away.



As the dust cloud rose up into the night, the sounds of sirens could be heard approaching. Stone shifted, metal creaked.

And a single massive hand emerged from beneath the wreckage, clawing up for the freedom promised by the sight of the night sky which lay above

“How’s he doing?” Buffy asked, concertedly peering down at her prone friend.

Pan checked a monitor. “He’s stable for the moment,” he informed everyone, “He’s young and strong, that’ll help,” Pan sighed as he dangled from the ceiling, “But unless he’s part lizard, his girlfriend’s going to be opening his ketchup bottles from now on.”

The group had returned to Pan’s home with the injured Xander in tow. After they had cleaned him up, Pan had applied some sort of herbal paste to the ragged stump just below the young man’s shoulder where his arm used to be. Having gained locomotion by entwining his vines up into the ceiling, Pan now scuttled about like a spider, using salvaged hospital equipment to monitor Xander’s vital signs.

“Shapeshifting demons, treacherous gypsies, psychotic cops, animated hunks of stone,” Alec counted off on his fingers, “We are due for a vacation.”

“Hear hear,” Willow put in tiredly, resting against her lover. Both of them were severely drained from the battle they had just concluded; Alec from engaging in combat with the now-late Viisq and Willow from casting the powerful time-altering spell to keep the golem at bay.

“When he wakes up, I’m going to kill him,” Anya swore, “How dare he try to blow himself up without telling me!”

There were a few weary chuckles and tired grins at this comment; no one envied Xander when he regained consciousness.

“So, what ARE we going to do about Xander?” Faith asked, “Between Alec getting his spine fused and now Xander being disarmed, literally, our forces are dwindling.”

“Hey, Alec did a pretty good job fighting Viisq,” Dawn put in irritably. She sported a bandage on her forehead from where the shape-shifting monstrosity had clawed her. It was her most significant combat-related injury to date and everyone had made such a fuss over it Dawn had been ready to scream.

Although the extra attention from Alec was nice. Dawn mused to herself.

“Faith’s got a point,” Alec replied, “Maintaining the kind of power I was using, the kind necessary for any kind of fighting mobility, was incredibly draining,” he caught his father’s eye, “I don’t think I want to make it a habit.”

Giles nodded, “Yes, I imagine that the recent and profound increase in the use of your powers could be detrimental to your health.”

Alec rolled his eyes, “Dad I’ve been pummeled, shot, stabbed, beaten, burnt, and tortured nearly to death since we arrived and I’m still stand-,” a spasm of pain crossed his face, “Still here,” he amended.

Willow grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, baby,” she assured him. Alec smiled slightly and squeezed her hand back.

“Well, so what are we going to do then?” Spike insisted, “It’s not like we can go ‘Poof!’ and the blighter there can get a new arm.”

“Yes!” Willow cried out, leaping to her feet and drawing stares from everyone, “Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Umm…Wills?” Buffy asked hesitantly, “Share?”

“There’s a spell I started doing some research about online when Alec got hurt,” Willow explained, “From what I read, it can’t do anything for his spine. But, it could definitely help with Xander’s arm.”

“And this would be?” Giles queried.

“A necrotic graft.”

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the skin at the bridge of his nose before continuing, “Willow a necrotic graft is a very tricky incantation. The possibilities for not only spectacular failures but also disastrous side-effects are significant.”

“I know, but I can handle it, I know I can! All I need is some needle and thread and, of course, the arm to be used.”

“ ‘Necrotic graft’,” Alec frowned, “Wait a minute, you’re going to graft a dead person’s arm to Xander?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds; once the spell takes hold the arm is transformed from a dead limb into a living one, fully-functional,” Willow assured him. Then her expression fell, “There’s just one catch.”

“There always is.”

“The arm needs to be as fresh as possible, the longer it’s been dead, the greater the chance the body will reject the graft,” she explained, “Ideally we would have a living arm to graft but there’s a problem with that.”

“No one’s in a hurry to donate an arm?” Angel asked.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“That’d be a hard sell,” Alec mused.

“Yeah I can see why that’d be a problem,” Buffy sighed.

“Well, if were going to do this,” Alec said, “We better get a move on: Xander’s not getting any younger. I vote we hit the city morgue for a fresh cadaver.” He turned to the red-haired witch, “How long to prep the spell?”

“A few hours. Good news is that it doesn’t take much in the way of ingredients. Try not to mangle the arm getting it off, the less destroyed tissue the spell has to knit together, the better,” she added.

“Got it,” he assured her.

“Uh…question, mate? How do you plan on getting about?” Spike asked, “You just got done saying that moving about like that drains your batteries.”

“If it was combat, yeah it’d be a problem,” Alec replied, “But since I just plan on going from point A to point B, I should be able to get there with less strain.”

“Well then, I’ll go with you,” Buffy put in and moved towards her brother.

“Yeah, me too,” Spike added.

Alec shook his head. “I think one person has a better chance of sneaking about the city morgue than half a dozen. Besides you guys need to stay here in case DeGanon shows up here with friends,” he smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me, I’m a survivor.”

“Alec, the last time you said something along those lines, you were shot, kidnapped and tortured,” Buffy replied darkly, “You’ll forgive me if I keep my skeptical face firmly in place.”

He laughed and kissed his sister on the forehead as he conjured a pair of darkness tendrils to hoist him up into a sitting position. Wrapping them around his legs, he locked them in place before extending them up and around his wrists. Pumping his arms, he made his feet take lurching, shuffling steps. He looked like nothing so much as a broken marionette.

“Oh, that’s just looks wrong,” Pan commented.

With a jaunty wave, Alec made his way up the stairs and out of Pan’s basement lair.




Willow explored the rest of Pan’s subterranean home, trying to find a good place to cast the spell. Leaves and vines of ivy covered coated pipes and cement. It resembled what a utility shed would look like if the jungle had some alive and reclaimed it after years of disuse. The tunnels were tight with low ceilings and narrow corridors, though for some reason it didn’t feel claustrophobic.

She turned a corner and there was Tara.

Willow stopped dead, nearly skidding into the other girl: Tara’s hair had gone from blonde to dead black, her blue-green eyes now the color of sewage. A network of black veins traced their way under blue skin, like a map.

Tara cocked her head with a sickening crack; her entire body writhed like it was out of synch with everything else, twitching and spasming. Her frame was wracked and joints and bones contorted unnaturally, even as the girl stared at her former lover.

.”You don’t look happy to see me,” Tara said in a gurgling voice, pulling back split lips to reveal pointed yellow teeth.

“You’re not real,” Willow breathed.

“LIAR!” Tara cried out and slashed a yellow claw across Willow’s cheek. Willow cried out and fell to the ground. The witch had no time to gain her bearings as the thing that had once been Tara grabbed her by the throat and hoisted her into the air slamming her hard up against the ceiling of the tunnel, pinning her there. Willow choked and gagged even as Tara brought her disfigured face close to hers.

“Did you think you could just wish me away again?” Tara hissed, her neck snapping back and forth like a snake, the sounds of bones cracking filled Willow’s ears.

“I’m….I’m sorry….” Willow choked out, her eyes squeezed tight in front.

“You’re sorry?!?” Tara said incredulously. She grabbed Willow’s face with her free hand and peeled her eyelids back with jagged nails.

“Look at me!!!” Tara screamed.

Willow gasped and opened her eyes.

“You died, Willow, you crossed over,” Tara hissed, “But you brought a piece of it back with you, a piece of that dark place,” she squeezed Willow’s throat harder, “And it wants you back,” Tara dug a claw into Willow’s brow causing a small rivulet of blood to dribble down, “You were out of my reach before, Willow. I couldn’t touch you,” Tara’s mouth split into an obscene shark-like grin, “I can touch you now.”

“What…what do you want?” Willow gasped out.

“What do I want?” Tara screeched incredulously, “I want what you took from me, Willow.”

“I’m sorr-“

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry,” Tara mocked, “We’re all sorry,” she brought Willow’s face closer to her own, “Now kiss me.”

Tara pressed her cold mouth against Willow’s. The young girl gagged as the taste of death and rot filled her mouth, needle-like teeth pierced at her lips, tore into her tongue. Willow’s mouth filled with blood.

“Willow?”

Willow caught her breath and looked around wildly. Faith was standing behind her with a concerned expression on her face.

“Yo Red, you all right?”

Willow’s eyes darted around the small chamber. There was no one there.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” Willow replied.

“Well, the others were getting worried about you, so they asked me to check up on you. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m on my way back.”

Faith nodded and turned away, heading back and out of the chamber.

Willow brought her fingers to her lips and winced slightly. She drew back bloody fingers and looked around once more.

“Tara…”

There was no answer but the dark.




Alec made his way down the street. It had rained recently and everything had a wet slick sheen to the city street. He managed to navigate his way down the crowded streets and sidewalks with some dexterity, his hobbled gait having smoothed out to something akin to a severe limp. A cane of conjured darkness completed the look.

Not bad for a cripple he thought to himself.

“So, who can I go to for an arm?” Alec said to himself, chuckling. He stopped suddenly then.

He knew exactly where to go.

With a tight grin, Alec took a left and descended down some stairs into the subway.





DeGanon sighed wearily as he wedged the last door gate into place and locked it, securing the domain. He was tried, desperately so. The encounter with the Slayer and her friends had not gone as planned and their run-in with the Dark General had left him and two others nursing serious injuries.

The gypsy chieftain rested his back against the grate and peered about. It would be a safe bet that they would be coming back looking for vengeance for his so-called ‘treachery’. Explaining the bonds of father and son and Romany law amongst the tribe would not avail him. They would be back, and they would be looking for blood.

It was then the halogen lights, mounted on the walls, started to go out. One after another they flared briefly then winked out of existence. Like a rolling tide of darkness, the room turned to pitch black in the span of a few heartbeats. For a few minutes, the only sound was DeGanon’s anxious breath as he was robbed of his sight. The dark was thick and oppressive, like a living thing.

“DeGanon,” a voice called out, deep and cold like from the bottom of a stone well,” the old gypsy froze, it was him.

Blindly, DeGanon stumbled away and fled down one of the other corridors, feeling around with his hands to compensate for his lack of sight. The tunnels twisted and turned this way and that until he was completely lost. Looking about wildly in the dark, DeGanon couldn’t see anything and his terror was extreme.

Finally fatigue, brought on by age and the draining effect of prolonged fear, caused him to slow. He exhaled hard, leaned against a wall and worked on making himself still. He held himself tightly to bring the shaking under control and fumbled inside his jacket for a flare. He yanked the top off and struck it against the wall, it flashed into life and the entire area was bathed in yellow-green light.

Revealing Alec, his eyes pools of black darkness, standing no more than a foot away from him.

“You have something I need,” he said simply.

DeGanon screamed and attempted to throw the flare at Alec. Instead the younger man grabbed his arm and bent it back, pinning it. He snatched the flare from the gypsy and placed it into a crevasse in the wall then viciously backhanded the other man sending him sprawling to the stinking ground. DeGanon tried to scramble away, even as tendrils of darkness wrapped his arms up and dragged him back to Alec.

”You didn’t really think that you were going to get away with betraying us all like that did you? You owe, and I’ve come to collect,” Alec seethed.

“You’re crazy,” DeGanon gasped out.

“I’m not. No, no I’m not,” Alec said with force, gesturing with a finger, almost as if he were working to convince both himself and the other man, “You know the old saying DeGanon; ‘What doesn’t kill you…’.” Taking the other man’s arm and bending it back further. DeGanon cried out in pain and fear.

“What do you want?” the gypsy cried out.

“I’m here to collect a boon owed. One of our friends was hurt putting down your son and so you are going to help make him better.”

“How…how am I going to do that?”

“You’re going to let me saw off your arm, DeGanon, and you’re going to give me your blessings while I do it.”

“What?!”

Alec hoisted up his shirt revealing the still-healing wounds Viisq had given him.

“Do you see these wounds DeGanon? Do you want to know how I got them? Your son, beating me, tearing at me, torturing me for hours upon hours. Breaking my bones, cutting into my flesh, hoping that I would break. He failed ultimately. I was rescued by a very noble woman…who he then promptly had murdered,” Alec leaned in close to the other man, “And I’ve come to collect for all those harmed by you and your offspring.”

“What are you going to do to me?” DeGanon asked, his face going pale.

“I’m going to harvest you for spare parts, and in the future, if we need you to ‘lend a hand’ so to speak, you won’t hesitate to do so,” Alec narrowed his darkness filled eyes at him, “Because if you utter so much as a single word of protest, I will come back down here into the dark, and I will find your people: the men, the women, and the children, and I will paint these walls with their blood.”

“Our master’s power protects us!” the other man cried out.

“Nothing can protect you from me right now. I must do what needs to be done. And what needs to be done right now is I need to chop off your arm,” Alec said simply. And then he gave the other man a tight, grim smile. He was enjoying himself and DeGanon was chilled to the bone.

“Very well then, Dark General, I will make this sacrifice for my people and the protection of my tribe,” he said as he held out his arm.

“Wise decision,” the younger man replied as a serrated blade emerged from his hand.

“You know, it’s funny. I actually learned something from your son while he was torturing me back at that police station,” Alec spoke casually as he slid the blade into DeGanon’s flesh and began to saw through the meat around the bone, just below the shoulder. DeGanon bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed in order to keep from crying out as blood oozed thick and red down his arm to splatter onto the ground below.

“The secret to defeating your opponent, truly crushing your foe, isn’t in magic swords or powerful spells,” he continued as he finished sawing through the meat of the gypsy’s arm, revealing bone, “It’s in the ability to discern a person’s weak point and knowing just how to strike,” Alec brought the blade up and then down in a single chop. The blade sheared through bone and DeGanon screamed long and loud as Alec gripped the arm and yanked hard, tearing free any stray connective tissue.

“One fresh arm. This should do nicely,” Alec said with a smile, peering at it in the green light. He gestured to DeGanon who was slumped against the wall, blood pouring from the stump at his side, “You’re going to want to get a tourniquet on that,” he informed him casually.

“You…have what you want?” DeGanon gasped, “My tribe is safe?”

“For the moment,” Alec replied, “But don’t you ever mess with my family again or the next body part I take from you, you don’t get to survive without.”

DeGanon simply nodded, half-delirious with pain as Alec stepped towards the shadows.

“Be seeing you,” and with that the young man stepped into the gloom and vanished, leaving the grievously wounded gypsy behind.



“And that…should do it,” Willow breathed as she finished the last stitch in Xander’s shoulder, “Twelve years of cross-stitch and I wind up sewing body parts together.

“Feels weird,” Xander commented as he rubbed at his shoulder with his other hand.

“You have a dead man’s arm sewed to you, mate,” Spike commented, “‘Weird’s’ a bloody understatement.”

“It’ll take a little while to adjust to you, things like hand-eye coordination and motor skills are going to be impaired,” Willow explained, “and try not to fiddle with it.”

Xander smiled up at his friend, “Wills, this is great, I can’t believe you found me a freakin’ arm!” he exclaimed astonished.

“Neither can I,” Angel said quietly. He was staring intently at Alec, who had been very quiet since returning with the grisly trophy an hour or so ago.

Xander looked incredulously at Alec, “Where’d you find it anyway?”

“Car accident victim a few blocks away. Mangled and bloody and all, but the arm was still pink and fresh. A quick slice-and-dice and POOF: one arm,” Alec explained.

“My man rocks,” Willow said with a grin.

“And you’re certain the donor of this arm was dead?” Angel asked dubiously.

“As a doornail.”

Angel said nothing as he stood and stalked out of the room. There were a few looks exchanged at his departure.

“Well, you’ve been granted the gift of limbs, mate,” Spike commented as he lit up a cigarette, “You’re going to be hard-up to top that come Christmas.”

Xander scoffed as he flexed his new fingers, “Yeah, no kidding,” He looked up at Alec, “Thanks, man

Alec shrugged. “No worries.”

“Well, however you did it, you did it and we’re all grateful,” Buffy put in.

“Yes, well done, son,” Giles spoke up.

“I didn’t reinvent the wheel,” Alec replied modestly, “I’m not the hero of the day here,” Alec squeezed Xander’s shoulder, “That would be this guy. It was his plan, after all that saved us against the golem.”

“Oh yes, that reminds me,” Anya spoke up suddenly.

SMACK!!

“IF YOU EVER DO ANYTHING AS STUPID AND SUICIDAL AS THAT AGAIN, I WILL MAKE YOUR SUFFERING LEGENDARY EVEN IN HELL!!!””

Everyone stared agog at the couple as Xander clamored up to his feet, still reeling from the blow Anya had dealt him.

“You could have died, you stupid, stupid man! I hate you!” she cried, tears in her eyes as she beat at Xander’s chest with her fists before collapsing into sobs.

Xander gingerly wrapped his new arm around her. “Hey, it’s all right Ahn,” Xander gestured, “My man Alec over there had my back.”

Anya turned to stare at Alec with red, tear-stained eyes.

“You…you saved him?” she whispered in shock.

“Yeah, I shadow-stepped, brought Xander along for the ride,” he sent Xander a wry grin, “Sorry I ruined your big ‘heroic sacrificial moment’”

Xander chuckled, “I think I’ll cope.”

For a moment, Anya looked completely miserable, in a bizarre, almost torn fashion, then she turned her attentions back to being held by Xander. Alec took the opportunity to exit out of the room and head up to get some air.




“You fooled the others, but I know fresh blood when I smell it: that arm came from the living,” a voice called out as Alec stepped out onto the street.

Alec turned to confront Angel, who was leaning against a lamppost glowering fiercely.

“Question is: who’d you take it from?”

“No one that didn’t really deserve it,” Alec said with a cruel sneer.

“Playing god now are we?”

“Someone has to be willing to do what needs to be done or did you perhaps have some kind of solution the rest of us were unaware of?”

Angel growled and took a step forward.

Alec grinned. “Careful mate, you sure you really want to get physical with me? Didn’t work out so well for you last time.”

“Things change,” Angel replied.

“Some things, not everything.”

“So tonight you’re chopping off arms and harvesting body parts, what’s it going to be tomorrow, Alec?”

.Alec shrugged. “I really don’t know, I guess we’ll see. You going to tell the others?”

Angel scoffed. “What good would that do? Half of them would support what you did, the other half would condemn and we’d be back at each other’s throats. No, I’ll keep it to myself and just keep an eye on you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Any information from your contacts regarding the Order of Teraka?” he asked, changing the subject.

Angel shook his head. “My contacts, the people who let me know the bounty was lifted off of Buffy’s head a few years ago, haven’t been returning my phone calls. It’s likely they’ve been taken out of the game.”

“You know what we really should be doing?” Alec pondered.

“What?”

“Take the fight to them. Figure out where the order operates out of and hit them hard there.”

“That would be Mexico City, and would probably be a very unpleasant way to commit suicide,” the vampire replied.

“Better than sitting around, letting them send hunters to take potshots at us one after another,” Alec retorted.

Angel leveled a finger at the younger man, “You’re dangerous, Alec. You’re reckless and you’ve inherited your father’s brutality back in his ‘Ripper’ days. You’re taking the first steps down a path that once you go down it, there’s no coming back.”

Alec smirked. “How very droll, I shall endeavor not to ‘succumb to the dark side’ as it were, but I refuse to hesitate due to moral hang-ups. My sister does; it’s one of her glaring flaws.”

“You’re wrong; it’s one of her greatest strengths. She’s got a conscience and cares about right and wrong and in the end it’s why she’ll always be better than you,” Angel retorted.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, continue to remain useful to the group and stay out of my way and we should get along cheerily. I imagine that you’ll be so busy mooning over my sister, munching on your angst-burger, you’ll be too distracted to be much of a nuisance to me anyhow.” Alec scoffed.

“We’ll see.”

With a mock bow, Alec limped off into the dark.

“What the hell was THAT all about?” A voice from behind Angel called out.

Angel turned to address Faith, who was coming up out of Pan’s lair and out of the stairwell, onto the street.

“Remember what happened to you?”

“Uh…you mean turning all evil? Yeah.”

Angel brooded as he focused on the point of Alec’s departure. “This could be worse.”

“Oh fantastic.” Faith laid an arm on Angel’s shoulder, “However it goes down, I got your back, don’t forget that, all right?”

Angel smiled slightly and placed his hand over hers, giving it a squeeze.

“Thanks Faith.”

“Five by Five.”

Buffy languished in the pale arms of her lover. Spike placed a cool kiss on her forehead and stroked her golden hair back. The two of them swung gently in a wide hammock, mounted on the roof of the building that contained Pan’s lair.

“Penny for your thoughts, luv?” Spike asked quietly.

“Believe it or not, despite all the death and ultra-suck of the last few days, I’m thinking happy wedding-shaped plans.”

Spike chortled. “Arranging flowers, seating charts that kind of thing?”

Buffy grinned. “Yeah, and I decided I want a traditional church wedding.”

“Pffft, yeah, you have a good time with that,” Spike retorted.

Buffy socked him in the ribs.

“Ow, bloody hell!” Spike groaned with a grin.

“And I want to take your last name,” Buffy said.

Spike’s jaw dropped, “You want to do what?!”

“Why the ubershock?”

Spike shrugged. “I was under the impression that a modern girl like yourself would want to keep her name or have one of those god awful hyphenated names.”

“Call me traditional. But it’s something I think would be kind of old-fashioned romantic.”

“Yeah and you’re all about old fashioned.”

“Oh shut up.” Buffy retorted elbowing her lover. “So what’s your last name?”

Spike suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Luv, there’s a long, ugly, history attached to my lineage: murderers, rapists, thieves, lunatics. I did my best to try and put as much distance between them and myself. Tried to make a proper gentleman of myself, get my way into polite society,” he sighed, “Bloody well blew that.”

“So what do you want to do?” Buffy asked.

Spike stared up at the stars above them and the velvet black of the night sky as he gave his thought words. “William Summers has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Buffy looked shocked. “You’d take my name,” she said stunned, “And you’d go by William?!”

Spike shrugged. “Babe, I’ve spent a hundred and twenty six years roaming this grand ol’ ball of rock in space, looking for truth and fun…well, yeah okay mostly fun, but anyways,” he pressed on, ignoring Buffy’s wry smile, “I’ve knuckle-dusted with the best of them, seen the world and I’ve done it all with a smile on my face.” Spike put his hands behind his head as Buffy placed a warm kiss on his bicep.

“I think I’d like to take a load off for a while, you know? Relax. Let someone else tear the world up for a while,” Spike sent her a wry look, “Your brother seems keen on taking on all comers.”

Buffy looked troubled, “Yeah, it’s starting to give me a wiggins,” she said to herself.

Spike sent her a confused look. “What do you mean babe?”

Buffy shook her head, “It’s nothing,” she turned her attention back to her lover. “So you think being married to me is going to be a vacation huh?”

Spike grinned, “Piece of cake,” he assured her.

The Slayer rolled her eyes, “Yeah right,” she said with a laugh and she pinched Spike’s arm hard. He cried out in pain and the two of them tussled in the hammock causing it to pitch and sway.

Spike stopped then and turned his eyes eastward, “Getting to be about that time,” he said grimly. He turned his attention back to his lover, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Buffy nodded emphatically, “If I spend one more day in a sewer or a crypt or an underground tunnel, I’m going to go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

Spike sighed and nodded, “All right then, let’s see if we can get this bloody thing to work.” Spike took a grip of one end of the hammock, Buffy took the other and together they gently pulled.

Huge, green leafy pedals gently folded around them as the vine hammock gently bore them down to the ground. With a gentle puff of air, the giant flower they were resting within sealed shut. There was a slight, warmish green glow emanating from outside but other than that, the couple was blocked away from the sun’s approaching rays.

“How does it feel to you?” Buffy asked Spike as she settled against his chest, her fingers tangling into his hair.

“Like I’ve been sealed into a bloody Venus Flytrap,” he replied gruffly.

Buffy chuckled and kissed his smooth cheek. “’ William Summers’, I like it.” she said with a grin.

Spike placed a responding kiss upon her golden head. “Yeah, me too luv.”

“Good night William.”

“Good night Buffy.”

And the couple dreamed away the day embraced in each other and in living green.



A rat sniffed in the darkness. Its whiskers twitched as its beady eyes peered this way and that. It darted from shadow to shadow, scurrying on tiny clawed feet. For a moment, it picked up a piece of detritus in its pink paws and nibbled at it before discarding it as something inedible.

Suddenly, the tiny rat cocked its head curiously. There was something moving in the darkness before him. The rat scuttled up to it, sniffing curiously.

The thing in the dark raced towards the rat and entwined itself around the creature. The rat began to squeal even as the dark thing attached itself to the creature’s head and wrapped its body even tighter around the rat. The rat screeched and thrashed, blood spurting out of its pink eyes and nose, its little paws kicking and struggling as the coils of the other creature squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.

There was a loud SNAP and the rat spasmed once and then was still. Slowly, the darkness enveloping its head made its way down the rest of its body, swallowing it up. Within moments, all that remained of the small rat was a tuft of hair and a small spot of blood.

With a sound like a whisper on silk, the thing of darkness slithered back into the darkness from whence it had came.



Alec awoke with a jolt and lurched to his feet. His guts were on fire as he staggered out of the bed he shared with Willow and made for the bathroom. Stumbling, tendrils of darkness shot out of his arms and wrist like spider silk, attaching themselves to the ceiling and floor, supporting and anchoring him reflexively even as he staggered along.

He felt gorge rising in the back of his throat and he reached the sink just in time to vomit, hard and convulsing. He dug his hands into the porcelain of the sink to keep from collapsing as he jerked and coughed.

Finally, it was over. Alec spat out a mouthful of bile and turned on the florescent light, the only source of light in the bathroom.

The sink was stained with blood; thick, dark, and red. Alec gaped at in shock. Something within the bloody mess caught his eye. It looked solid, like he had expunged a piece of himself in the tide of bile and blood.

Great, he thought to himself, Best case scenario: This is a tumor and I have cancer. Worst case…. Alec really didn’t want to think of what the worst case scenario could be, especially one added in the possibility of demons.

Gingerly, he reached into the sink and plucked the disgusting object from the sink and held it up to the light.

A tiny, bloody rat skull.

Alec jerked his hand back as if the object had scalded him. The gory skull hit the sink and shattered, the pieces disappearing down the drain.

He leaned forward to peer into the mirror, confusion racing through him as he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue before then proceeding to pull down his lower eyelid, examining himself in the mirror closely. .

A tiny strand of darkness, about the size of a tapeworm, slithered up through his eyeball and disappeared into his head.

Leaping back from the mirror he bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Alec muttered to himself. He frowned at his reflection. Something didn’t look right. Gingerly, he lifted up his t-shirt and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Where once there had been a series of tight, compact muscle covering his chest and stomach, now the muscle was gone and his ribs protruded visibly. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in months. Alec gaped as he traced a line across a bony rib. His skin was also two shades of pale white, nearly corpse-like. He realized his face had a sunken, sallow look to it and there were pronounced bags under his eyes.

“Ohhh….this just sucks.”

“Alec…?” a drowsy voice emanated from behind him.

Quickly, Alec jerked his shirt down covering himself and killed the light.

“Yeah love?”

“Are you all right? I thought I heard something?”

“Yeah, love, I’m fine,” he reassured Willow before taking another look down the drain, “Just something I ate is all.”

“Come back to bed,” she asked quietly.

“Sure, love.”

Gently, he padded back over to the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She smiled and nestled against him, then frowned slightly.

“Have you lost weight?” she asked, still not really awake.

“Fighting the forces of evil; best weight loss program in the world,” he said before adding in a roguish tone, “Well, second best,” he amended as he pinched her backside.

She giggled and sighed and before long she was back asleep.

Alec however did not sleep. He could no longer be sure what would happen if he did. And what else was waiting to take hold of him in the darkness of his dreams.



Several hours later, the group had assembled in what was commonly being referred to as the audience room. It was the room where Pan was planted in front of his computers and where there was the most space. Buffy sat perched on Spike’s lap, Angel stood off to the corner, leaning against the wall, looking impassive, Faith and Dawn sat on the floor near Pan while Xander and Anya took up space on an old couch while Giles conferred quietly with their host.

A few moments later, Willow came into the room, pushing Alec along in his wheelchair. The assembled people exchanged confused looks at this.

“You look like hell, mate,” Spike commented.

“Coming from the walking corpse, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Alec replied wryly.

Spike made an obscene hand gesture towards his friend as Giles came over to examine his son.

“Son, are you feeling all right?” he asked with parental concern.

Alec waved him away as he coughed into his hand, “Just feeling a little under the weather. Comes with the territory.”

Giles frowned, “Strange, I can’t recall you ever falling ill before.”

Alec grinned gently, “Relax dad, it’s just a touch of a cold. No harm, no foul.”

Giles nodded reluctantly but he exchanged a sober look with Buffy before settling back to speak with Pan.

“So, what’s the plan?” Alec asked, changing the subject.

“Currently we find ourselves at an impasse. We have no leads in regards to this ‘wordless hymn’ that Dracula referred to.”

“Yeah, plus we’ve got the Order of Teraka taking potshots at us,” Xander put in.

“Then that’s what we should deal with,” Alec replied with confidence, “We take the fight to them.”

“Still subscribing to the school of ‘charge the front gates’ tactics?” Angel asked in a quiet, biting tone.

Alec glared at him. “We’re going to run out of luck long before they run out of assassins and I’m tired of playing defensively.”

“It’s very risky, son,” Giles said gently.

Alec slammed his fist down onto the arm of his wheelchair, causing a few people to jump. “Yes! It’s risky! We’re at war! War is risky!” he exclaimed in frustration, “But we cannot afford to let risk become a deterrent. We need to be able to accept the risk as part of the equation and handle it.”

“And you’re going to tackle these guys all by yourself, from your wheelchair and all?” Spike asked wryly.

The young man sent him a dirty look. “I believe you can all remember that when push comes to shove I can hold my own in combat, even in my current state. Besides, I was planning on having a little help from my friends and family?” He said this last bit in a questioning tone as his gaze swept the room.

Buffy sighed and got up from Spike’s lap, “I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I don’t see these assassins stopping anytime soon and there’s no way we’re going to be able to get our ‘save the world’ vibe on if we have to worry about these losers.”

Alec nodded, “Thanks sis-”

“But,” Buffy interrupted, “We need a plan, a REAL plan. I know you, bro, you’ve been known to leap before you look.”

“Who? Me?” he replied in mock innocence. There were a few chuckles at this. “Okay, yes, you’re right; a real plan is the way to go,” Alec sighed and settled back against his wheelchair, “Okay, so what do we know about these guys?”

Buffy turned to Spike, “Well babe, you’re the one that sicced them on me originally, what can you tell me?”

Spike rolled his eyes. It was sometimes difficult to reconcile the fact that only a few years ago he had been trying very hard to put this young woman in the ground.

And now I’m marrying her. Strange bloody world he thought to himself.

“It was pretty straight forward,” he began, “I got in touch with Willy, Willy got in touch with them.”

“Wait a minute? Willy?!” Xander exclaimed, “How does that little nematode know how to get in touch with a society of deadly demon assassins?”

“Didn’t ask, didn’t care,” Spike replied, “Within a day or so, Willy got back to me with a number: the fee for their services and what it would buy me.”

“What was it?” Buffy asked curiously.

Spike named a figure. The others gaped.

“Bloody hell,” Alec muttered.

“And how,” Willow added, “You could buy your own Manhattan sky-rise with that kind of money.”

“With enough left over to stock your garage with some nice, foreign cars,” Xander put in, “Where did you get that kind of cash?”

“Do you remember the great Chicago bank job of 1925?”

“No.”

“Neither does anyone else,” Spike said with a fierce grin, “The perks of leaving no witnesses.”

“Charming,” Buffy muttered, rolling her eyes at her lover’s homicidal delight.

“At any rate,” Spike continued, “I delivered the money to Willy, he took his cut and passed it along to the bounty hunters and within a day or two, I was sent three hunters.”

“Yeah the big guy, the bug guy, and the chick with the gun,” Buffy replied, “I remember them.”

“I distinctly feel that I did not get my money’s worth,” Spike said sourly.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Buffy smacked him upside the head.

Even as Spike was nearly catapulted out of his chair, Alec leaned forward.

“Okay, so we know that they work through intermediaries and what the going price is for a contract. Do we have any idea if there are any caps?”

Spike shrugged, “Way I figured it, they’d kill just about anything if the price was right.”

“And send as many people as it took to finish the job,” Angel put in quietly.

Alec turned and frowned at the vampire, “That reminds me, Buffy told me that you managed to convince the Order to cease and desist, right around the same time there was that whole ‘robot dating her mom’ thing.”

“And?”

“How did you do it?”

“Carrot and stick approach. I paid them off to stop and then threatened to send back any other assassins in pieces”

“With your reputation, I imagine that wasn’t a hard sell,” Alec conceded.

“Hold on a second there, poof,” Spike interjected, “Just where did you get the money to buy out the contract I paid for?”

“Several pounds of Nazi gold,” was all the other man said.

“Where the hell did you get Nazi gold?”

“From robbing a Nazi gold train in Germany during World War Two.”

“Well, ask a stupid question,” Xander quipped.

“Hijacked Nazi gold, I like it,” Alec mused, “Okay, well, is there any way we can find out how much the current contract out on us is, so we can buy it out?”

“No, the contacts I had in the Order aren’t talking anymore.”

“Dead?”

“Probably.”

“Well, then like I said, we go to the source: the Order of Teraka’s headquarters in Mexico City. That is where you said it was, right?”

“I also said going there was essentially a time-consuming method of suicide,” Angel retorted.

“Oh that sounds pleasant,” Xander put in.

“Another good reason to head down Mexico way, do we remember Quetzalcoatl and Golobulus?” Alec asked his voice slipping into what his sister called ‘The Giles Voice.’ “They originated from that area after encountering some nasty demon activity. If there is, in fact a connection between the evil powers in Mexico and the Hellmouth, we need to find it and preferably a way to kick its ass.”

Spike grinned, “I like this plan. Mexico. Got some good memories of Tijuana,” he frowned, “I think.”

“Any of them involve donkey shows?” Xander asked with a laugh.

“On behalf of all those who possess functioning imaginations, please stop talking,” Buffy pleaded.

“All right, so we have a plan. A real plan, we make our way to Mexico City and do the Scooby Doo thing,” Buffy said, “And no,” she turned glaring at Spike, “We are definitely not stopping in Tijuana.”

“No sense of fun,” Spike growled.

Buffy laughed and turned to her brother.

“See Alec, that wasn’t so hard, was it? A plan and everything.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Oooo. Ahhhh.”

Giles spoke up, “Anya, you’ve had over a millennium of experience as a demon. Do you have any knowledge regarding the Order?”

Anya looked taken aback, “No, sorry. The Order just works with their clients: humans, demons, vampires, whatever. They work for money, magical artifacts, whatever.”

You’re lying, was all Giles thought to himself even as he calmly sipped some tea that Pan had brewed for them.

“Okay, yeah, no this works,” Alec said. He turned to Xander, “How long would it take us to get to Mexico with the camper?”

Xander looked agog, “Like forever and a day man, gas would cost an arm, leg and possibly a spine,”

“Ummm, okay, a train then?” Alec suggested.

“Uh again, mucho travel time,” the young man replied.

“Look I hate to ask the obvious question here but why aren’t we looking at the obvious option?” Buffy asked, “Fly. How long could it be to get from New York to Mexico City? It’s not like it’s the other side of the world or something”

“Flying…” Alec mused, his voice taking an odd tone, “…yeah.”

Buffy frowned, “What’s the issue?”

Willow spoke up from her perch upon Alec’s lap, “Oh yeah, I forgot,” Willow turned to face him, “Alec’s afraid to fly.”

“Love!” Alec cried out forlornly even as Spike hooted with laughter and the others stared at each other in shock.

“That’s too good!” the blond vampire cried.

Giles looked stunned as he regarded his son, “Is it true, son?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Look, dimensional travel and planar shifting are one thing. Being locked in a tin can built by the lowest bidder thirty thousand feet in the air completely at the mercy of the guy at the controls just praying that he’s not having some kind of off day and decides to go all kamikaze on us because he had a bad fight with the wife is another,” he sighed, “Besides I hear the food stinks.”

Faith swallowed a grin and did her best to make her tone serious. “C’mon D, show us some of that British stiff upper lip.”

Pan spoke up, “Flight’s only five hours from JFK to Benito Juárez International Airport.”

“It’s December, five hours is enough to get there before sunrise if we get the right flight.” Angel put in.

“It will be prohibitively expensive though,” Giles mused, “After all, we are talking about ten round trip tickets after all, especially at the height of holiday travel.”

“Ah, I believe I can help with that,” Pan put in quietly, casually reaching over to his desk and handing Giles a leather satchel. Giles frowned at it as he opened, then gaped at what he saw. The satchel was filled with bundles of hundred dollar bills.

“There has to be thousands of dollars in here,” he commented.

“Where’d you get all the cash, Pan?” Dawn asked curiously.

Pan grinned and gestured to a series of potted plants behind him. Dawn padded over to them and peered at the leaves then stared in wonderment. The leaves were grown in the shape of perfect hundred dollar bills.

“Who says money doesn’t grow on trees?” Pan quipped.

The Scoobies laughed out loud at this even as Spike leaned in to address the plant man.

“Mate, tell me, where can I get a few of those?” he asked.

“Sorry ‘mate’, trade secret.”

“Okay, so we’ve got cash covered. What about passports? We’ll be traveling internationally,” Giles gestured to Dawn, “And with a minor.”

Pan held up a bark encrusted finger, “I had a feeling that you be needing these when you first showed up,” he reached over and handed Giles a bundle tied in brown paper, “Heroes often find themselves going on far-flung quests so naturally…” Pan simply gestured at the bundle. Giles unwrapped them to reveal a set of passports.

“Do I want to know where you got these?” he asked.

“Not unless you want to be an accessory to multiple federal crimes.”

“Right. Didn’t know. Couldn’t have stopped you.”

“Good man.”

“Okay, cash and passports, we should be good to go,” Alec commented quietly. “If Pan is willing to book us some tickets?”

“First class?” Pan asked with a grin.

“I am not travelling coach,” Dawn put in haughtily. “Not if we’ve got beaucoup bucks to burn.”

Buffy snorted, “Yes, your highness.”

Alec sighed; he knew he was beaten. “Fine, then we fly,” he relented. Without warning he fell into a harsh coughing fit. Willow got off his lap and felt his forehead.

“Alec! You’re burning up!” she cried.

Alec waved it away and spoke as soon as he could suck in air to breathe, “I’ll live. We’ve got more important things to do.”

Pan wagged a reproaching finger at the young man, “Now, now young man, if you haven't got your health, then you haven't got anything.”

“Cribbing lines from ‘The Princess Bride’ are we?”

“Good boy,” Pan said approvingly. He reached out with a vine and brought forth what looked like a large pomegranate, dropping it into Alec’s lap.

The other man frowned, “Okay, and this is?”

“Heartsfruit, my boy. Very old and powerful stuff.”

Willow gasped, “I’ve heard of it! It’s supposed to have been fruit that came from the Garden of Eden.”

“Well, I can’t confirm that. But what I can do is promise you that a single seed from this fruit taken once per day will restore health over time.”

“Okay, and the catch?”

“One: it’s a gradual process. You must take one seed per day and only one seed. Any more and the results may be…unstable.”

“Define ‘unstable’”

“Did you ever see ‘The Fly’?”

“Got it. Caveat number two?”

“When you take the seed, you must be calm and under control. The seeds respond to your emotional state and amplify it. If you’re calm and at peace, you’ll heal.”

“And if I’m, oh say, cranky?”

“Again, I point you to condition number one.”

“Sounds like fun,” Alec sighed. Gently he twisted the fruit and pulled the two halves apart. Surprisingly it didn’t drip a drop of juice as he plucked a dark red seed from it and popped it into his mouth.”

“Nummy,” he commented as he brought the two halves back together, the fruit sealed itself shut.

“Okay then,” Buffy called out, “It looks like we got enough cash here to buy whatever we need as far as luggage and clothes once we get there. How does our itinerary look, Pan?”

Pan brought his long, spindly fingers to the keyboards surrounding him and tapped a few keys in rapid succession. “There’s a redeye flight leaving JFK in an hour that’ll get you there about an hour or so before dawn.”

“We’re going to need to have accommodations worked out ahead of time,” Angel commented quietly, “I don’t want to be scrambling to find a sun proof room once we land and dawn is nipping at our heels.”

“Hey!” Dawn called out indignantly.

“He’s being literal Dawney,” Willow gently interjected.

Dawn blushed. “I knew that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Pan assured them. You’ll have someone waiting for you once you get off the plane.”

Buffy nodded, “Okay cool, thanks,” she turned to the rest of the group, “Ready to go?”

“We’re off to see the wizard,” Xander quipped lightly.

“With our luck, the ‘wizard’ will turn out to be a homicidal psychopath bent on world domination,” Alec commented glumly.

“Well aren’t WE a ray of sunshine?”

“Bite me, Harris.”

Xander laughed even as the others filed out of the room and out onto the street.

They made it to a subway station and caught the first train to the JFK airport. As the train rattled away with the screech of tortured metal and glass, the group noticed they were not alone: a group of about six or seven young men, dressed in ragged clothing and bearing the demeanor of scavengers were eying them hungrily.

“Spike? Go deter the bad men,” Buffy instructed quietly.

“I’ll deter them,” Alec muttered quietly, his hand transforming into a length of razor sharp steel.

Buffy put a restraining hand on his shoulder, “Chill bro, I said ‘deter’ not ‘slaughter.’”

“I would find being slaughtered a good deterrent,” Alec countered but he didn’t press the issue as Spike casually turned to face the other men, one of whom was approaching.

“Yo homes, don’t you know this is our train?” One of them, presumably the leader said.

“Yeah man, you got to pay,” another one spoke up, “Gotta give us a little something.”

“Pay? Okay then,” Spike grinned, then with a bestial roar his face shifted into its demonic visage.

“You want some? Come get some!” he cried out.

The remainder of their journey was uneventful and the Scoobies disembarked without any further incident.


.The group entered JFK airport: it was huge and loud with great bright fluorescent lights that hung down high above their heads, bathing everything in a sickly white light.

Giles headed over to the ticket counter: their tickets were already waiting for them, whilst the others milled about taking in the sights of a major airport, some for the first time.

Alec, in his wheelchair, gently tapped Willow’s hands, which were resting on the handles. She looked down at him.

“Hmmm?”

Alec gestured at a news stand. Pretty generic: magazines, candy, gum, etc…

“Could you give me a lift over there?” he asked.

Willow smiled indulgently and wheeled her lover towards the news stand and over to a rotating display of sunglasses.

“Expecting to get a lot of sun in Mexico?” she asked wryly.

“It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility,” he quipped back at her.

And if anything else decides to crawl through my eyeball, this should at least keep it from being known to all, he thought to himself as he selected a pair of mirrored wraparound shades. It reflected their faces in a miasma of pinks and blues and purples. He placed them on his face and looked up at Willow.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Like an alien,” she replied with a grin.

“Thank you Ziggy Stardust,” he said and did his best to hide his sigh of relief that the light was now blocked from his eyes and no longer inducing the pounding headache he had been enduring since they had arrived.

Giles strode over to them.

“It’s time to go,” he said quietly, “Our plane is boarding and they tend to board first class ahead of everyone else.”

“Joy,” Alec muttered bitterly.

“None of that,” Willow admonished him, “You’re going to be just fine.”




“See, you’re just fine!” Willow said cheerily. They had all boarded the plane and were sitting together in aisles of three, waiting for take off. Alec was sitting with Buffy and Willow, Angel and Faith were sitting together as were Xander and Anya, and, finally Giles and Dawn. Spike meanwhile was looming over Alec’s chair, enjoying his friend’s discomfort immensely.

“Yeah, cheer up mate,” Spike said with a grin, “Look at it this way, if we do crash, the force of impact will kill us all instantly in a hellish fireball. You won’t suffer a whit!”

“I. Hate. You.” Alec gritted out from clenched teeth as he gripped the armrest with white-knuckled tension and tried to control his breathing.

“What’cha doing?” Buffy asked.

“It’s a breathing exercise I picked up from a monk I knew, it’s supposed to clear the mind and induce a state of powerful relaxation.”

“Oh. Does it work?”

“Do I look bloody well relaxed to you?!”

Buffy laughed out loud even as a woman pushing a drink cart approached them. Spike grinned at her arrival.

“Ah good, reload,” He held up his empty glass, “Another serving of my good friend Jack D and get something for my greenish friend here,” he said with a smirk pointing to Alec.

The woman turned and gave Alec a sympathetic eye, “Nervous flier?”

“First time flier,” he responded and then he added at least in a plane to himself.

“Would you care for a nightcap to take the edge off?” she asked.

Alec regarded the metal cart with something akin to wonderment.

“There’s liquor in there?” he asked.

The stewardess nodded doing her best to keep her professional smile in place and not let her discomfort towards this odd individual show, “Yes sir, what may I get you?”

“Whatever is in arm’s reach,” Reaching into the cart, Alec grabbed a fistful of mini bottles of liquor, opened them, poured them all into a small plastic cup and drained the whole thing in a single long pull.

“Classy,” Buffy commented.

“Sod off,” Alec replied.

“Remember: admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

“My bloody problem is that I’m trapped in this evil contraption getting ready to be hurled into the night sky like a sodding ping pong ball where I shall be residing at an altitude reserved for deities and particularly stupid birds.”

Suddenly there was a great lurch as the jet’s engines began to warm up. Alec’s white knuckled grip got a little tighter.

“Oh god we’re all going to die,” he whispered between pale lips. Buffy and Spike laughed uproariously.

“Nurse! An emergency round!” Spike called out for the stewardess, who by this point was considering a serious career change.

The jet took off without incident (despite Alec’s dire portents) and soon enough the cabin was dark and quiet.

A few hours into the flight, Alec was occupied with seeing exactly how much scotch he could drink without keeling over from alcohol poisoning so Buffy got up and went to check on some of the others. She came across Willow and Xander watching the in-flight movie. Anya was next to them snoring gently.

“Hey guys,” Buffy whispered quietly. Willow and Xander smiled at her approach and the redhead waved and beckoned.

“Come watch,” she said in a normal speaking voice. Buffy flicked her eyes over to Anya.

“Don’t worry about Ahn, she could sleep through the next apocalypse,” Xander commented, brushing her concerns away with a wave of his hand.

“Careful, we should be due for another one of those any day now,” Buffy predicted direly.

Xander blanched. “Okay, yeah, good point.”

Buffy just chuckled as she settled in amongst her friends, “What are we watching?”

“‘Cruel Intentions,’’ Willow replied.

Buffy scrutinized the screen. “I hate her hair,” she commented.

“That’s Kathryn, the evil bitch queen of the movie,” Willow put in helpfully.

“Well, her hair is a disaster. So what does this movie have going for it?”

“Really impressive cleavage,” Xander put in helpfully.

Buffy laughed and gestured at the screen, “What does she have that I don’t?”

“Way looser morals.”

“So she’s a slut?”

“Evil, manipulative, slut,” Willow put in helpfully.

“Oh, so she’s Cordelia.”

“Ouch!” Willow and Xander both exclaimed simultaneously. Buffy just grinned.

“Oh come on, do you honestly think Cordelia would ever surrender the crown of queen bitch?”

“I think we’d have a better chance of seeing her in a full spread in ‘Playboy’,” Xander replied wryly.

Buffy snorted, “Cordelia taking off her clothes in front of complete strangers for cash. Somehow I can’t picture that.”

“I can,” Xander said with a grin, “And, oh look, I’m picturing it again.”

“Pervert.”

“Prude.”

“Children….?” Willow put in warningly. Buffy and Xander fell silent and watched the movie in peace.

“What are you reading?”

Giles jumped and jerked his head up from his book and squinted a few times in the gloom of the dark plane interior. The bright ray from the top mounted light bounced off the pages of the book causing an almost blinding glare. For a moment, all he could decipher was a shape in the darkness, addressing him. He squinted.

“Son?”

“Who else?” Alec smiled and moved slightly and he came more clearly into focus, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s all right, I was just going over some material here.”

“Specifically?”

Giles lifted the book so the light now struck the cover of the book as opposed to the pages.

“Ah, the Codex, the one from earlier, you brought it with?”

“It has a small but serviceable amount of information regarding Aztec mythology, which as it turns out pertains to the Order of Teraka.”

Alec gestured with his head towards Dawn, who was curled up in the seat next to his father and looked to be asleep.

“Is she out?”

Dawn proceeded then to emit a tooth-rattling snore. Both men smirked wryly.

“Answers that question,” Alec commented quietly, “So, what have you discovered?”

Giles cleared his throat. “I’m afraid it isn’t a great deal of information. Apparently though, the Order of Teraka is actually a coalition of four families dating back to around the fourteenth century or so.”

“So, we’re talking Pre-Cortes here, Aztecs are still going strong?”

“Correct. Exactly correct in fact. The four founding families of the Order of Teraka were Aztec. More specifically, each family worshipped a different entity who held power in the region.”

“Oh goody, an ‘entity’, that usually translates into ‘demon’.”

“Local gods in this case, though based on some of their behavior the difference may be purely academic. While I have no doubt that some of the claims regarding the sheer scope and scale of Aztec human sacrifice may be exaggerated, I am not so naïve as to believe that they are entirely fictitious.

“Translation: blood gods, fantastic. Any names I’d know?”

Giles pursed his lips in thought, “Perhaps. As I said, the information here is limited but it makes mention of four specific deities: Tlaloc, some kind of water deity. Huitzilopochtli, a god of war and a sun god. Toci: an earth deity also known as ‘the eater of filth’ and ‘the woman of discord’ and finally Tezcatlipoca, a wind god often depicted as a jaguar or a combination of man and jaguar.”

“And these guys were serious bad news?”

“Some sacrifices honoring them numbered up to five thousand dead in a single day.”

“So that would be ‘yes’.”

“It’s important to note though that they weren’t ‘evil’ as you or I understand it to be. They possessed many different aspects, the ones mentioned here….” he gestured to the book, “…are simply those that came to be most well-known.”

“Yeah well, mass slaughter does have a way of gripping the public mind. Okay so, four blood gods, four mortal families.”

“Yes and apparently these families in particular were especially well known for the brutality of their rites, so much so that a significant population of the Aztec peasant caste, from whom most of the living sacrifices were taken from, rose up and united under the banner of Quetzalcoatl.”

“Hold up, I thought we already discussed him back at the shop and decided he was a bad guy.”

Giles shrugged, “Be that as it may, he apparently opposed these other deities. So it may be that while Quetzalcoatl could be considered a ‘bad guy’, these entities could be in turn considered far worse.”

“So my only choice in this pantheon of gods is ‘bad’ and ‘worse’? No wonder the Aztecs were such cheery folk,” Alec snorted.

“Try to remember son, we’re not dealing with conventional morality, especially not one resembling any kind of Judeo-Christian influence. We’re dealing with a system of beliefs that predates all of that by about two hundred years.”

“It still seems…wrong,” Alec struggled to put the words together in his head. He was having trouble thinking clearly for some reason.

Giles frowned at the tone of his son’s voice and at his rather clumsy choice of words, “Are you all right, Alec?”

“Ugh, yes I’m fine. Just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Or at all. Alec thought to himself.

“When was the last time you had something to eat? I understand they serve food on this flight.”

“You cannot be serious. Were I not already intensely nauseated from the raw terror that is flying, I got a good whiff of what’s on that tray and I have to say, it contained nothing that resembled ‘food’ as I understand it.”

Giles chuckled a little, “Yes well, try to take care of yourself; you look like you’ve lost weight.”

Alec rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “You tell Buffy she’s lost weight, it makes her day. You tell me and it’s a medical emergency. Dad, relax, everything is fine,” he gestured back at the open book on his father’s lap, “You were saying?”

Giles cleared his throat and continued, “At any rate, the insurrection against the four families convinced them to unite into a single article and together, they put down the insurrection and slaughtered all they could capture in tribute to their gods.”

“How pleasant. What then?”

“Well, for a while they ruled openly, and then as emperors became the ruling norm, they ruled behind the scenes as advisors and aide-de-camps.”

“Power behind the throne types, huh?”

“Exactly so.”

“So, when did we go from politico blood cultists to assassins and bounty hunters?”

Giles frowned, “That part is a little vague. What is known is the fact that it was the duty of these four families to go out into the countryside and round up as many people as they could as sacrifices.”

“I got it, in other words, they were always ‘hunting people’ in a way, all that changed was the context: mass death rituals into contract killers and the cultists became bounty hunters.”

“Yes, it’s believed that they turned their interests into things like gold and silver with the arrival of Cortes and the discovery of silver in Mexico in the sixteenth century.”

“What about the name: ‘The Order of Teraka,’ where does that come from?”

Giles shook his head, “It doesn’t say, it’s been theorized that Teraka was a person that brought the four families together and united them under his rule.”

“Does it say whether or not the four families still maintain ties to those ancient blood gods?”

Another shake of the head, “It does not say so directly, but it may be inferred if for no other reason that the Order of Teraka seems able to draw upon demonic forces, such as the Insect Man that Xander and Cordelia encountered, whenever they wish.”

Suddenly Dawn’s chair jerked violently and she sat up with a grunt. She sighed, exasperated and turned up to look at Alec. Her frown of consternation quickly became a smile.

“Hi Alec.”

“Hey petite, what’s the story?” Alec asked, gesturing at her chair.

Dawn’s expression turned momentarily sour, “Some kid behind me keeps kicking my chair. It’s really bugging me.”

Alec casually looked behind her. Sure enough, a young boy, maybe eight or so: with porcine features and a general disconsolate look about him.

“One sec,” Alec reassured Dawn. She frowned in confusion as Alec stepped back to address the boy.

“Hello there,” he said in his most amiable tone.

The boy turned his head and looked up at him with all the disdain an eight-year old can manage.

“Go away, my mommy says I don’t have to talk to anyone I don’t want to and that I shouldn’t talk to strangers and you’re a stranger,” he sneered in a very grating tone that only the most spoiled of children can manage. He had a fat face and his cheeks jiggled when he spoke.

Alec gritted his teeth. Though he’d never met the man, the kid reminded him of the late Principal Snyder, whom the others had told him all about.

“Well, that’s good advice,” he admitted, “However, another bit of good advice is to try not to disturb the other people on the plane,” he gestured to the sit in front of him, “These guys up here are my friends and they’re trying to get some rest. If you could not kick the seat, that would be very cool of you.”

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. Mommy says so and you can’t make me!”

That tears it.

“Say Sport, tell me something: where is ‘mommy’ at the moment?”

“She’s gonna pick me up when we get there.”

“Ah I see, well, did she remind you to be careful of the Boogeyman while you’re here, alone in the dark?” he asked quietly.

That seemed to strike a nerve. The kid looked momentarily worried then he stuck out his lower lip in gesture of bovine stubbornness. “My mommy says there’s no such thing as the Boogeyman.”

Leaning close to the young boy’s face, Alec smiled slightly and lowered his shades, just a little. His eyes were swirling pools of darkness and oozy black tears slithered down his face like a thousand tiny spiders crawling down his cheeks.

“She lied.”

The little boy was now white as a sheet and making a soft, gurgling noise in his throat.

“You will shut up and sit still, is that clear?” he whispered in a very low, very dangerous voice.

The boy managed to nod.

“Smart boy,” Alec pushed his shades back up into the bridge of his nose and stepped away from the trembling youth.


“You should be all set now,” Alec reassured Dawn.

Dawn looked at him incredulously, “What did you do?!”

“Just…gave him a little incentive to behave, no big deal.”

Dawn turned to look at Giles the elder, but he had apparently missed the whole thing, engrossed as he was in his book.

“Okay well, thanks Alec, I guess,” Dawn said uncertainly.

Alec smiled warmly, “No worries.”

As Alec walked away, Dawn settled back against the cushions of the seat. Closing her eyes, sleep overcame her but not before something strange happened: for the life of her she thought she heard someone…crying?






Spike washed his hands and dried them with a paper towel. He exhaled hard, unnecessarily for one of his kind: he hated flying like this. Sure he knew that the flight was scheduled to land well before sunrise; that was the whole point of taking a red-eye. But something still gnawed at him.

He opened the door and was startled to see an impishly grinning Slayer standing in front of him.

“Love?” he asked in bewilderment.

Buffy stretched languidly and continued to grin up at him, “You know what I’ve always wondered?”

“What’s that, love?”

“You know that whole ‘Mile-High Club’ thing?” She asked. Spike felt a grin slowly creeping across his face.

“Yuh-huh,” Spike replied.

“I was just wondering: how do they manage things in these tiny little airplane bathrooms?”

Spike grinned and moved out of the way to allow Buffy entrance.

“Oh, let me educate you baby.”


Some time later, Buffy returned to her seat, looking just like the cat that ate the canary and feeling very…satisfied. She casually picked up a magazine from the seat pocket in front of her and flipped through it aimlessly.

Surreptitiously she shot a look over at Willow and Alec, both of them were asleep, leaning their heads against one another and looking completely out of it.

Home free. Buffy thought to herself. She turned and looked back at Spike who was now approaching the seat and looking equally satisfied.

“Your shirt is on inside-out,” Willow commented.

“Damn it!” Buffy cried out, taking a hold of the hem of her shirt and, sure enough, glaring balefully at the exposed label that gave her away.

“Busted,” Spike chortled.

“And you missed a belt loop,” Alec put in just as suddenly.

Spike laughed, a little confused at first, then he looked down.

“Oh…sod,” he growled.

“You’re a bad man,” Alec added.

“The both of you: completely without any shred of decency,” Willow followed up.

“All right, all right Miss Moral Superiority, get your shots in now,” Buffy said acidly.

“Oh no, I plan on milking this out for all it’s worth, we’re talking months of ridicule here,” Willow replied with a grin.

“Fantastic,” Buffy grumbled, then she nudged her brother, “I thought you were asleep.”

Alec sighed and shook his head, “Even if I could sleep for the numbing terror I am currently enduring, it’s still too bloody bright in here for me to get any shut eye.”

Buffy looked around incredulously, the cabin of the airplane was nearly pitch black, lit only by the track lighting along the floor, directing people to the emergency exits.

“You’re kidding right? Let me see those shades,” Buffy demanded with an outstretched hand.

Alec sighed and took off his glasses, keep his eyes shielded. Buffy put them on and gaped. She passed her hand in front of her eyes back and forth, bringing it right up to her nose.

“Bro, I can’t even see my own hand with these things on and you’re telling me it’s too bright?”

“And noisy, did I mention noisy?”

“What you mean nois-“ Buffy began to ask before noticing that her brother was sending her a very pointed, annoyed look.

“You’re a jerk,” she replied stiffly, tossing the glasses into his lab.

He laughed gently and replaced them on his face, “Love you too.”

“And life goes on,” Willow summarized, earning a pair of rolled eyes from her friends.



Xander woke up a few hours later in his seat with a muted groan of pain: these seats were killing his shoulder. He looked down; Anya was resting her head on his shoulder and snoring away contentedly. Xander smiled and placed a kiss on her head and then gently lifted her head up off his shoulder and rested it against the side of the plane. As he did so, he examined his new hand: it had darker skin than his other hand, small bits of black hair grew up from the top and knuckles and there were deep lines in it. It looked like the hand of someone much older than him.

Sure hope the spell eventually does something about this or else I’m going to look really weird, he thought to himself.

He made his way to the bathroom, attended to nature’s call, and washed his hands, looking at himself in the mirror. He needed a shave, badly and he continued to rub his shoulder.

“Man, these seats are really bad for you,” he muttered as he turned around and lifted his shirt looking in the mirror.

He froze, “What the hell?”

Five small splotches stained his back. The looked like bruises or burns and they hurt to the touch. What he had mistaken for acne or warts now looked like something else entirely: like black boils or something.

“Okay, not good. Not good,” Xander considered his options; he’d seen the way people were treating Alec, like he was some kind of freak, because of injuries and various maladies and he knew he didn’t want to do that. So he’d take care of this on his own.

First though he’d have to get rid of these things. He reached behind his back and dug his nails into the first one, trying to burst it. There was a moment of resistance and then a sudden release.

And Xander cried out in agony as his shoulder and his fingers began to burn. He brought his finger tips back around and stared at them in shock: they were coated in a yellow, foamy pus-like substance and it stank like death and was currently dissolving his finger.

He quickly gripped the faucet knob and turned it own, getting his finger under the water as fast as he could. Where his finger touched the metal of the sink, it corroded. The pain in his finger slowly eased though the pain in his shoulder was still quite intense. He grabbed a bunch of paper towels and pressed them to his shoulder. They quickly disintegrated but they seemed to help a little. Five handfuls of industrial strength paper towels later, the pain subsided. Xander heaved a sigh of relief and sat down heavily on the toilet lid.

“Oh man, what am I going to do?”

He got up, nervously, and looked at his shoulder in the mirror.

There were now four black welts and fifth large, angry red and black wound where the one he had torn open had been. Red streaks originated from the wound like cracks in the pavement giving it a thoroughly unhealthy appearance.

“Okay, not going to do that again. Just gonna patch this up and everything is going to be fine.”

As Xander finished cleaning himself up, he repeated this over and over out loud and eventually, he almost believed it.

Almost.

Slam!

That sound jolted everyone out of their seats. For a moment there was confusion, bleary-eyed sleepers came up back into consciousness, confused as to what had wakened them.

Slam!

Buffy leapt to her feet, Alec and Willow with her.

“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?” Buffy asked.

“Sounds like something wants in!” Spike called out, coming up to join the others.

“We’re thirty thousand feet up!” Alec cried out.

“Maybe it’s a bird?” Willow put forth timidly.

Slam! Suddenly dents appeared in the metal of the airplane door.

“I don’t want to meet the bird that can dent the door of a jetliner,” Alec replied, “I thought they were extinct!”

Angel appeared from out of nowhere and grabbed the shoulders of the flight attendant who was just staring slack-jawed at all the chaos.

“Get everyone strapped in back there and find a way to close us off from the rest of the cabin.”

“But…but how? There’s nothing separating coach and first class but this!” she cried out and lamely held up a thin curtain.

SLAM!

“That’s not gonna do it,” Xander commented mildly. By now, everyone had assembled together.

“Coming through,” Faith called out, lugging one of the drink carts behind her.

“Uh, babe, I appreciate a good drink as much as anyone but is now really the time?” Spike commented.

“Spike is passing up a drink. That’s it, we’re all dead,” Giles commented deadpan.

“Get everyone back into coach,” Faith instructed. The stewardess, baffled, obeyed, taking the few remaining passengers in first class with her back into the rear of the plane. Faith then proceeded to lift up the cart and wedged it on its end in the narrow passageway. Tiny bottles of booze smashed in a shower of alcohol and tinkling glass.

“That’ll work,” Buffy commented with approval.

Suddenly there was an ear-splitting squeal of tortured metal and a loud whoosh as the door came free of the plane and inside became sheer pandemonium. Magazines, glasses, and luggage were ripped free and sucked out spiraling into the black sky.

“‘Nothing to worry about’ you said. ‘Safest way to travel you said’,” Alec growled at his sister.

“Oh….SHUT UP!” Buffy snarled back.

And then some…thing filled the doorway.

“What….the….hell?” Faith gaped.

The creature had huge feathery wings in a rainbow of colors. It was humanoid in shape, but it was covered in a multitude of iridescent black scales. It had huge, yellow claws and a snake-like head with a mane that looked like it was made out of the same feathers as was on the wings with a row of feathers running down its back like spikes tapering off upon a tightly coiled tail. It hissed at them and dug in its massive claws into the plane leaving huge rents in the steel.

“He’s going to tear the plane apart!” Xander cried out, gripping Anya frantically and trying to avoid being sucked out of the plane, much as the others were.

“The hell he is!” Spike called out wielding what appeared to be the food cart that had escaped being made into a barricade, “What’ll it be mate: chicken or fish?”

The winged creature hissed at him again and even as it attempted to enter the cabin, Spike let out a whoop and charged, turning the cart into a battering ram. They slammed into the creature hard, it cried out in rage and tumbled backwards out of the cabin, the cart propelling itself outwards into the night.

Spike grinned, satisfied, even as he worked to get solid footing against the shrieking, black vortex.

“Well, that was fu-“

That was as far as he got before the creature’s tail coiled around his ankle and dragged him down and out into the night.

“SPIKE!!!!!!” Buffy cried out hysterically. Only the cold howling of the night wind answered her.

“Not today, brother,” Alec commented. Painstakingly he made his way to the door. Buffy caught his arm. Alec turned to look down at her.

“I’m going in!” he called out.

“You’re coming back out!” she replied.

Alec grinned and nodded.

“Count on it,” he said with a grin. He tossed her his shades, “Hold these!”

And then, he jumped out of the plane.

Buffy had to stop herself from leaping after him, digging her hands hard into the metal of the doorframe as the wind whipped her blond hair around.

“I hate it when he does that,” Buffy growled.

Suddenly the entire plane jerked violently. Everyone staggered and eyed the open door warily.

“Wills! Shut the door, there’s a draft!” Buffy cried out.

Willow nodded and turned her attention.

“Xander, hang on to me, I need my hands free for this!”

Xander nodded and crawled over to her, soldier-style, and wrapped both his arms around her waist.

“Got you Wills!”

Willow looked down and smiled for a second then gasped.

“Xander, you’ve got me! Who’s got you!?”

Xander turned back to look and gaped, in coming out to help Willow, he’d given up his own secure footing.

“Oh shi-!” Xander cried out as he looked back at the open door. The pair of them were dragged forward just an inch before they came to a bone-crunching stop. Xander jerked his head back around.

Angel had his leg in a death grip and was hanging onto it with all the strength a vampire could manage.

“You’re solid Harris, help out Willow,” he said brusquely.

Xander smirked just a little, “Good timing, dead boy,” he turned his attention back to the witch, “Do your thing!”

Willow nodded and brought her hands up.

“Goddess Hecate, hear my plea. Work wind, work water, work air. I weave my will and weave a wall.”

She finished and waited. Suddenly the temperature in the cabin, already quite cold, dropped even further. Everyone’s breath began to steam as a small swirling maelstrom of blue and white light formed near the door. The air became arid, dry and hard to breathe as the maelstrom expanded. Where it touched metal, an immense groaning, cracking sound emitted forth. Within a span of heartbeats, a solid block of ice filled up the doorway. The sudden quiet inside the cabinet was deafening.

“Will that hold?” Giles asked, gently releasing Dawn from his grip.

“I think so,” Willow replied, wishing she could sound more certain.

.”Beats what we had before,” Faith commented, “Nice work Red.”

“Thanks.”

Without warning, the plane jerked and shuddered again.

“Okay, what’s the deal, who’s flying this thing?” Xander cried out.

“Good question,” Buffy replied, “Faith, if you’ll do the honors?”

“Do we knock?” Willow asked meekly.

“Do we care?” Faith replied easily and with a grunt she knocked the door down. The pilot, co-pilot, and navigator were all there to be found.

At least, what was left of them.

It was clear that whatever had attacked them back in first class had started at the cockpit. There were large holes in the ceiling and along the side, not large enough to cause the complete loss of pressure the cabin had suffered but enough for clawed hands to make it through to the people inside.

“Oh...I hate this,” Buffy commented direly.

“There’s no one flying the plane?” Anya asked agog.

“That would be what all the dead pilots here would be about, yeah,” Faith commented.

“You think it would cause panic if we asked if anyone on the plane knows how to fly one?” Willow asked.

“If they aren’t already IN a panic, they clearly haven’t been paying attention to recent events,” Buffy replied glumly. She turned to look at Angel, “Angel, you were in the war, did you ever…?”

“Yes, but flying a P-40 Warhawk is a little different than flying a jumbo jet,” Angel replied.

Willow whirled around on Xander, “Xander! You know how to fly a plan!”

Xander stared at her, stunned, “What are you talking about?!”

“Flight simulator! Back when we were kids, you played that game for hours on end. You must have put in, like, five hundred hours or so into it.”

“Wills, that’s a video game! That’s like saying I know kung fu ‘cause I played ‘Street Fighter’!”

“Well, I figure that plus your ability to handle big machines, like the RV, makes you our best bet,” Willow looked around, “Besides I don’t think anyone else has a better idea.”

“’Taking the train next time’ springs to mind,” Giles commented dryly.

“We are going to die,” Xander said quietly, but he turned his attention to the pilots chair. Unfortunately, it was currently occupied with the mutilated corpse of the pilot.

“Uh, guys, I really don’t think-“

Growling in frustration, Faith stalked over the corpse and with a sharp shove, deposited the body onto the floor like so much meat.

“Sit down. Fly the plane and save all our lives,” she commanded simply.

“Right, no problem,” Xander gulped before gingerly lowering himself into the seat. There was a long, protracted squishing sound as he did and he felt something saturate the bottom of his pants.

“Oh…I have no words for this,” Xander said trembling, doing his best to not look at the little rivulets of blood that had been squeezed out of the seat like water from a sponge.

He gently put his hands on the control column of the aircraft, it was sticky with blood and he did his best to ignore that. He had to wipe flecks of…stuff off the cockpit dashboard so he could read them.

“Okay, uh, fuel is good, oil pressure looks okay, ummm….we appear to be more or less level,” Xander rambled on as Buffy leaned over to Willow.

“Just how good at this video game WAS he?” she asked worriedly.

Willow chose her words carefully. “Well, like I said, he played it a ton and it was very realistic.”

“And out of all those times he played it, how many times did he successfully land?”

“Ummm….a couple, for certain…..I think.”

“Oh,” Buffy said mildly, “We’re all going to die.”

“Alec…” Dawn spoke up casting a look behind in dread.

Buffy sent her a sympathetic look, “Yeah, I know. We can look forward to killing him when he gets back.”

“Get in line,” Willow said through gritted teeth.



Cold wind buffeted Alec’s face as he plunged through the night. The experience was oddly liberating.

Remember, its not the fall that kills you, it’s the sudden stop at the end.

Wind brought stinging tears to his eyes as he tried to peer about the night sky for his friend.

“Shouldn’t be too hard, just look for the lunatic who’s brawling with a ten-foot monster while plunging at terminal velocity,” he commented darkly and then he sighed, “And let us not forget his idiot friend who is chasing after him.”

There. A little bit ways off beneath him, he could almost hear….

“Come on you bloody poof! Is that all you’ve got?!”

Yup. Found him.

He focused, summoning his sword, and suddenly his hand was filled with steel. Now armed, he streaked towards the pair like a guided missile.

Spike had time to register surprise for a moment before Alec plowed into both of them. The creature hissed and snarled. It couldn’t disentangle itself from the lunatic that had somehow managed to grapple it all this way and now a second one had manifested and the three of them now clawed and spit at each other as they continued to plunge down through the night.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Spike screamed.

“Well, you know you made it look like so much fun!” Alec called out.

“Arse!”

“Idiot! Grab my coat. I’m going to get us out of here!”

“What about peaches here?”

“You two have played enough!” Alec winced as the creature dug a claw through his leg but fortunately couldn’t penetrate enough to gain any kind of purchase. Alec struck the beast with his sword again and again, slicing scales free and severing the connective tissue of the wings. The creature wailed and raged as blood welled up from numerous wounds.

Finally Alec maneuvered himself to the creature’s back.

“Here, hold this!” Alec called out. For a moment, Spike thought he meant himself, only to find that Alec was addressing the creature for he plunged his blade deep into the beast’s back. It screeched in agony. Reaching down, Alec got a solid grip on the bloody tissue that held the beast’s wings to its body.

“And now we PULL!” Alec strained and growled, even as the beast spun back and forth rotating and diving trying to do something, anything, to get this insane monster of its back. Ultimately that proved to be fatal as the creature’s thrashing gave Alec the additional force he needed. With a wet, tearing sound, the beast’s wings came completely free and fluttered off into the night.

The creature got in one last, long wail of agony and then plunged into the night, now without even the slightest impediment against gravity. It disappeared from sight.



“You mentioned leaving?” Spike called out.

“Right, good plan. Close your eyes.”

“If you say ‘Click your heels three times’, I will personally find a way to strangle you before we hit,” Spike yelled to be heard over the wind.

Alec grinned for a moment, then the expression was wiped from his face when he got a good look at his surroundings.

Wow, that ground’s coming up awfully fast was his last thought.

And then there was no more time for thought.

Alec closed his eyes and focused…





“How are we doing? Buffy asked Xander who was still seated at the controls.

Xander didn’t take his eyes off the instruments or the view in front of him, “The flying part is relatively easy, it’s pretty much just go in a straight line. The crew had the course set before they….uh, well you know,”

Buffy nodded, “What about landing?”

Xander winced, “That’s going to take a little bit more doing.”

“Something to look forward to,” she turned to Angel, “How are the passengers?”

“Frightened but for the moment, we’re the only ones who know that the crew is all dead,” he replied, “I suggest keeping it that way.”

“With you on that,” Buffy replied.

Abruptly there was a burst of static from one of the headsets, followed by rapid fire Spanish.

“Okay, what’s that?” Buffy asked.

“That’s probably from the control tower wanting an update,” Xander replied, “Either that or it’s the local radio station, I have no idea.”

“Well, what are they saying?”

“Again, file that under ‘I have no idea.’”

“Oh for…” Anya grumbled and then shoved her way past the others, “Move!”

The others, confused, got out of her way as she nonchalantly pushed the corpse of the navigator off the seat and plunked down into it, ignoring the blood and gore. She gingerly picked up the headset, wiped it off and put it on her head. And then she proceeded to speak in fluid Spanish, going through a series of question and answers with whoever was on the other end.

“Okay, that IS the control tower, they’re telling us that they’ve been alerted to the cabin depressurization and they want a status update, they also want an explanation as to why we’re only flying at half our expected speed,” Anya informed them. Then she got a good look at the others expressions of surprise.

“What? I’m over eleven-hundred years old; you think I can’t pick up Spanish?”

“You told me you flunked Spanish,:” Xander said.

“Not Spanish: math. God, you never listen. See, this is why-“

“Ahn, so not the time,” Xander cut her off, “Tell them, I dunno, tell them whatever you think they’ll believe so we can land this thing,” then he added as an after thought, “Just run it past Buffy first,” he added, remembering how his beloved could be somewhat…tactless at times.

“Fine,” Anya grumbled as she turned her attention back to the radio.

Buffy turned to Willow, “Any sign of…?”

Willow just shook her head, she was sitting with Dawn and the pair of them looked absolutely despondent.

“He’ll be here,” Willow replied with determination.

“Absolutely,” Buffy replied with confidence that she didn’t really feel. But it was better than dealing with that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and the awful truth it represented.

“Any sign of who?” a voice called out.

Everyone (who wasn’t involved in the operation of a jumbo jet) whipped their heads around to see Alec and Spike stagger out of a dark corner and collapse onto the floor.

“Alec!” Willow cried out, leaping into his arms. Alec held her tight and kissed her head Dawn was not far behind her as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

“Miss me Slay-?” Spike was interrupted by Buffy as she devoured his mouth with hers in a fiery kiss. It stretched on forever and then she quickly broke it off and slapped him across the face.

“You. Be more careful,” she growled.

Spike chuckled, rubbing his cheek, “Yes ma’am.”

Buffy shifted her glare to her brother, “Goes double for you.”

Alec held up his hands, “No argument there. Next time I go skydiving, parachute is mandatory.”

“Son, how did you survive?” Giles asked quietly, his voice shook only a little. His son’s reckless act had terrified him, but he had done his best to keep his composure.

“I shadow-stepped my way back up to the plane,” he held up his hands flat and then stacked one on top of another, over and over again, “Once after another until we made it back in here.”

“That sounds exceedingly dangerous: a single teleportation has been known to be very draining and risky for you, several in a row…”

“Seemed less of a bad idea than hitting the ground,” Alec countered.

“I’ll second that,” Spike put in, “Damn eerie experience though.”

Alec nodded, “Home sweet Hell, the plane of elemental darkness can be like that.”

“Remind me to never attend any housewarming parties you ever host, better safe than sorry.”

Suddenly there was a small beeping sound that filled the cockpit quickly.

“That can’t be good,” Willow put forth, “Xander?”

“It’s nothing coming from me,”

“It’s coming from your watch, Buffy,” Angel pointed out quietly.

Buffy started and then looked down; sure enough, the digital readout read six-thirty.

Sunrise in thirty minutes.

Buffy jerked her head up, “Guys, we got sunrise on its way fast,”

“Oh fantastic, I thought the plan was to have landed BEFORE the sun became an issue,” Spike growled.

“That was before we had to cut our airspeed in half because something ATE the flight crew,” Xander shot back.

“Okay, okay, let’s not have a hiss-fit,” Buffy said placating, “Where can we put you guys that’s out of the sun?”

“Cargo hold, with the luggage,” Angel said quietly.

“With the luggage?! We go from first class to luggage?!” Spike exclaimed.

“Would you rather go from ‘first class’ to ‘ash tray’?”

Spike muttered but didn’t argue the point further.

“Okay then, you guys get down to the cargo hold. Is there a way to get to it from inside the plane?”

“If there isn’t, I’ll make one,” Angel replied.

“Sounds like a plan. Faith, go with them, something tells me that their act of radical reconstruction might need some slayer muscle behind it,” Buffy added.

Faith grinned, “Man these guys are going to have one humongous repair bill for this thing. I’m on it,” With that, the three of them headed towards the back.

Buffy turned her attention back to the view in front of her and to Xander.

“What now?”

“Now, we make a gradual descent through the cloud cover and proceed to have a smooth and orderly landing,” Xander replied.

“Uh huh and in the land of reality?”

“We pray to our great and fuzzy gods that we don’t explode in a ball of flame or crash like a stone.”

“Got it.”

Slowly, with agonizing care, Xander gently leaned the yoke forward and the plane began its final descent.