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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.





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