Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Weird Discoveries

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with BTVS, SG-1, or The Sentinel.

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June 1, Sunnydale, before dawn

Xander sighed as he walked along the sidewalk just outside one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. Vampire activity had gone way, way down since the Master got staked. It was like all of them decided to abandon the sinking ship like the rats they were. Still, there'd been a few around, and neither he nor Willow had been entirely willing to just let them run around unchecked. Hence the patrolling. Not that Xander was supposed to be patrolling alone, actually, but given the choice between patrolling and staying home just at the moment, Xander'd take the patrolling. Tony had come home roaring drunk and in a mood for a fight. Times like that, it was just safer to make himself absent. He'd learned that one the hard way at a very young age.

He was so distracted by his own admittedly less-than-happy thoughts that he never knew he was in danger until it was entirely too late and his world went black in time with a nasty crack to the head.

June 1, Somewhere over the Pacific

Jim had fallen asleep shortly after they'd taken off out of self-defense. It was either that or go completely insane trying to deal with the sensory-overload-in-a-can that was flying while tired. At least both Simon and Darryl were safe and well. He just wished he'd never had to go back to Peru. Incacha aside, it had not been a fun time in his life.

He was standing in the familiar, humid jungles of Peru, though everything was tinted slightly blue, rather than green. As he stared around in confusion, a massive black jaguar stalked out of the underbrush not five feet away. He jerked back with a curse, going for a gun that he quickly discovered he didn't have. The jaguar chuffed at him, then turned and disappeared once more, and Jim relaxed.

Moments later, it was back again. And again. The fourth time, Jim had the distinct notion the cat was seriously annoyed. It chuffed and growled at him, then circled him and used its not inconsiderable bulk to shove Jim off balance and in the general direction the big cat had disappeared the other times. Jim cursed at it again, but, having moved in that direction, he felt oddly compelled to keep moving.

The jaguar, with a pleased-sounding chuff, took off at something approaching top speed. Weirdly, Jim found himself able to keep up, following the jaguar as it followed a trail only it could detect. How long they kept running, Jim didn't know, but suddenly they reached the end of the jungle, an oddly incongruous neat line of trees that would never happen in nature. Beyond the trees lay something Jim knew was wholly impossible ... the African savannah. He could plainly see zebras, wildebeest, and a variety of antelopes scattered around.

The jaguar raced along the treeline until they reached an oddly thick, tall section of grass that screened everything around them from view, and then pushed through until it reached a bloodied, trampled section. Near the center lay a badly wounded spotted hyena, collapsed on its side, barely breathing. The jaguar sniffed at the hyena, purred roughly and started licking at the wounds in the hyena's side. The hyena let out a low, pained whine, but made no move to defend itself or fend off the jaguar's attentions.

Suddenly, the grass shifted and moved. The jaguar abruptly stopped trying to clean the hyena and straddled it, all its fur standing on end, ears going flat back, snarling and growling murderously as it hunched down as best it could while straddling the injured hyena, preparing to leap at whatever was hidden in the long grass. From a completely different direction came a large wolf, which the jaguar seemingly ignored as it came up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the jaguar in a similar attitude of defensive, protective wrath. The grass started shaking and Jim caught flickers of movement, brief glimpses of ... something ...

Jim woke with a nearly violent jerk, glancing around sharply, then gave his head a shake. Of course Blair, sitting next to him, noticed.

"You ok, Jim?" He asked.

Jim scowled. "Weird dream."

"Really? What was it about?" Blair asked.

Jim glared at him. "Not really in the mood to talk about it, Chief."

"C'mon man. You about shot out of your seat a couple seconds ago."

The glare clearly wasn't working. Jim sighed. "Fine. I was in the Peruvian jungle, followed a black cat to the African savannah, watched it and a wolf try to protect a hyena from something I couldn't see, then woke up." He rattled off, completely ignoring the tension and sense of danger that had been wrapped around the entire dream.

Blair almost bounced in his seat. "Really? Animal symbolism in dreams is ... "

Jim cut him off. "Not now, Blair. I'm going back to sleep." He promptly closed his eyes and ignored the huff from Blair.

Blair woke him midway through a identical repeat of the dream ... in every detail ... to tell him they were descending.

June 1, Outskirts of L.A., late afternoon

Xander woke with a groan of pain. His entire body hurt. Slowly, painfully, he peeled his eyes open and looked around. He promptly wished he hadn't. He had no idea where he was, but he was in so much trouble. He was lying on the ground, chained by the ankle to a support post in what looked like a basement. That was the good news. The bad news was the huge, hulking, very definitely not human (or anything even close) ... things. There were three of them. They were each close to seven foot tall, had thick, green crocodile-like skin and horns on their heads that reminded him of Darth Maul. Worse, they were built like gorillas, with insanely wide shoulders and overly long, powerful arms that ended in some serious claws.

They were standing face to face, and making quite a racket, which is probably what had roused him from unconsciousness, Xander realized. There seemed to be a lot of gesturing involved as well. Unfortunately, he was not exactly fluent in 'grunt roar gargle' so he had no idea what, if anything, was being said.

Eventually, one of the things came over and damn near ripped Xander's foot off as it unchained him, dragging him to his feet and shaking him, though its attention seemed to be mostly on the other two things. Upright, Xander spotted the door. Sadly, he had no chance of reaching it while Magilla the Crocodile Gorilla was all but crushing his arm in its grip.

June 1, LAX (Los Angeles Airport) Late afternoon

Jim, followed by Blair, Simon and Darryl, was heading for the luggage turnstiles when he spotted something that nearly made him smack his head against the nearest solid object. The same huge black jaguar from his dreams was pacing back and forth in the middle of the hectically busy area, being completely ignored by (and frequently passing right through) the people hurrying back and forth. It was, if anything, even more agitated than it had been in the dream.

"Christ." He snapped, then turned away towards the turnstile with his and Blair's luggage.

"Jim? What's ... oh. Ummm. Jim?"

The sudden jump in Blair's heartrate and the change of tone had Jim whirling around, expecting trouble. He got it. Blair was staring fixedly at the pacing jaguar. Which had been joined by an equally agitated wolf while Jim's back was turned. Jim closed the distance between himself and Blair. "You see them?"

"Yeah man. They're not too happy looking, are they?" Blair asked. "I don't ... do they want us to follow them?"

"Chief, are you hearing yourself?" Jim asked. "They're figments of our imagination, and you want to follow them?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I think we should, man. Something's going on."

"You get to explain it to Simon." Jim told him.

Blair grimaced. "Right. Right. On it." He headed over to Simon and Darryl. Jim just grabbed their suitcases and made a concerted effort to pretend he didn't hear Blair's rapid-fire obfuscating with Simon.

Simon looked exasperated, but he didn't try to stop Jim and Blair from heading off. At least they had two hours until their next flight. Not much time, but who knew, it could be enough, right? Simon and Darryl elected to stay at the airport, so Jim and Blair headed off. The jaguar and wolf dogged their steps to the rental counter, and from there to the rental car. The minute Jim got them out of the LAX's parking lot, the two animals took off in front of the car, racing along ahead of them, pulling speeds no animal shy of a cheetah could manage. The harder Jim floored the gas pedal, the faster the two animals ran. The animals led them north, towards the edge of the city. After a while, they got off the highways and onto normal roads, heading into what looked like a mixed light industrial/low-rent area.

"I don't like this, Sandburg. I don't like it at all." Jim grumbled, glaring around them.

June 1, Outskirts of L.A., late afternoon

Xander quickly found himself playing the part of a hacky-sack. He got pulled, pushed, hit and grabbed painfully as the three creatures ... demons? Yeah. Demons. His life officially sucked ... apparently fought over him and (probably) who got the juiciest bits. Still reeling from getting conked on the head, lord alone knew what else had happened while he was out, (and wasn't that thought just giving him a first-class case of the wiggins), and now suffering what was probably a cracked bone or three from the demons' crushing grips, Xander really couldn't do much of anything to defend himself in the three-way tug of war.

At least, not until one of them decided to try to end the argument in their favor by slashing at him with their claws. Xander screamed in pain and collapsed onto the ground even as the other two flung themselves at the third, instigating a free-for-all brawl. One injured arm clamped across his abdomen, which was bleeding heavily, Xander struggled to crawl away. Fortunately, the demons seemed to be far too distracted with their fight to notice him escaping. Somehow he made it to the door, found stairs beyond it and forced himself to his feet. Up there was ... well, hopefully something better than down here, that was for sure.

Xander half pulled and half crawled himself up the stairs, through the torn-up remains of someone's house, and out into the brightly sunlit street before the blood loss and pain became too much and he collapsed, unconscious, in the middle of the street.

Two blocks away, the jaguar roar and the wolf howled in outrage and both swerved down a side street. Jim twisted the wheel hard to keep with them and glanced ahead to ensure they wouldn't crash into any oncoming cars. He swore violently when he spotted what looked like someone stumbling out of a house and collapsing in the middle of the road.

"Chief ... "

"I am so ahead of you." Blair said, already digging for his phone. His vision might not be as good as Jim's, but at two blocks, it was hard to miss seeing that.

As if they knew their job was done, both jaguar and wolf disappeared, leaving Jim to squeal to a stop mere feet from the collapsed ... oh hell, it was a kid. Teenager from the looks of it. And bleeding like a stuck pig, too. Jim cursed again and jumped out, tearing the trunk open and digging the emergency first aid kit he'd packed against finding Simon and Darryl injured out before hustling to the kid's side.

The kid looked like he'd been worked over by a boxer and a linebacker, bruises and scrapes everywhere, including a nice big goose-egg near his right temple. What worried Jim, once he'd turned the kid (carefully!) onto his back and spotted the source of the blood was ... well, the source of all the blood. Something had clawed the hell out of the kid, damn near eviscerating him. He also stank of ... something Jim couldn't even begin to identify and was too worried about keeping the kid alive until help arrived to worry about.

Blair got off the phone and crouched on the other side of the kid, handing Jim things as he worked to stem the tide of blood. "They're five minutes out." He told Jim.

"Let's hope the kid lasts that long. And call Simon."

"Already did." Blair said. There was no way either one of them were going anywhere until this ... mystery ... was dealt with.

Fortunately, the ambulance (and police) arrived when they said they would. Jim watched as the paramedics loaded the kid into the ambulance and took off at top speed, then turned to deal with his fellow lawmen. It was going to be interesting, explaining how they'd stumbled across this.

Chapter Text

Meets and Chats

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 1, L.A., Evening

Three hours, a ton of Sandburgian obfuscation and one missed flight later found Jim and Blair in the surgical waiting room of Los Angeles County General, waiting for word on 'John Doe' (evidently, no identification had been found on the poor kid) with two of Los Angeles' finest. Technically, Jim and Blair really shouldn't have been there, but professional courtesy has its advantages. Eventually, a surgeon came out.

"The young man made it through surgery." The surgeon told them. "Whatever caused the wounds did not, fortunately, penetrate into the body cavity. He has a mild concussion, a badly sprained ankle, three cracked ribs and two cracked humerus, combined with a good deal of muscle and ligament damage."

"Like he'd been grabbed by someone really strong." Jim fairly growled the words.

"He'll need to be watched closely over the next twenty-four hours, but barring unexpected complications, he ought to make a full recovery."

That was good news. Now they just had to figure out who the heck the kid was and who had torn him to shreds like that. And why. And then Jim was hoping for a few minutes alone with the perp.

Within those three hours, it was clear the LA crew were getting nowhere. There was a trail of the kid's blood leading into an (apparently) abandoned house and down into the basement, where they found a chain and manacle wrapped around a support post. And not much else. No weapon, no prints, no nothing. Worse, the kid was still a John Doe, though hopefully once he came 'round, he'd be able to fill them in.

June 1, Hospital, Evening

Oh god. He hurt. Everywhere. The pain dragged Xander from the gentle cocoon of unconsciousness and he moaned in pain. He was afraid to open his eyes. Afraid he'd been caught by the Magilla Gang. But then the distinctive smell of a hospital percolated into his awareness and he breathed a deep sigh of relief ... only to make due mental note to not do that again anytime soon, because ow. Seriously. Just ... gah. Ouch. He peeled his eyes open and blinked a few times, staring at the tiled ceiling. A few moments later, a gray-haired man in a doctor's coat came into his peripheral vision.

"Ahhh, good to see you awake." The man said. "Can you tell me your name?"

Xander worked his mouth for a moment, only succeeding in a hoarse croak. The doctor offered him some ice chips and after he'd swallowed them down, Xander managed a hoarse. "'sander Harris."

"Sander?" The doctor repeated, sounding a bit confused.

"Xander." Xander said, managing it more clearly that time. "Xander Harris." He frowned. "'m not in Sunnydale, am I?" Hospitals were rather one-like-another, but something told him this wasn't Sunnydale General.

"Sunnydale? No, no you're not." The doctor said. "You're currently in Los Angeles County General." The doctor looked him over, then said. "If you feel up to it, the police have a few questions."

Oh, damn. That was bad. That was really, really, really bad. There was no way they'd buy that he'd been kidnapped by demons. He'd get a nice long-sleeved coat that tied in the back and an extended stay in a padded room. And some nice, fun psychotropics. Time to lie his ass off, clearly. Play the I-don't-remember card for all it was worth. "Ok."

Two men came in the room, and Xander spent the next fifteen minutes lying like a rug. Did he know who attacked him? Did he remember how he escaped? Did he remember how he got his injuries? Nope. Sorry. Can't remember a thing. Got koshed on the head and blacked out without seeing anyone (at least that part was entirely true). Part of him felt really bad for the cops. They were clearly not Sunnydale Specials, and not being able to solve this was clearly irking them. After they'd gotten all their questions answered, if not in the way they wanted, they left, and Xander collapsed into sleep.

He woke up sometime close to dark only to find two new guys in his room. One was tall, built like a truck, with military-short hair, and the other was quite a bit shorter with the sort of long, curly hair Xander was used to seeing on girls. They were ... quite amusing. Mr. Military was pretty much the poster boy for the armed services, and his buddy wouldn't have looked out of place at a hippie convention, and was probably a decade younger, to boot.

Jim watched the kid eye them and couldn't restrain a small grin. He didn't blame the kid for the bewildered look. He was far from the first to be confused by Blair, especially when paired with himself. They were very much an odd couple. "Hey there. How you doing?" He asked.

Xander peered at the guy for a moment before answering. "Well, I think my pinkie toenail on my right foot doesn't hurt, so I'm good." He rasped. "They send you to see if I remember anything yet?"

"No. We're not with the police department." Blair piped up. "Well, not with the LA department, anyway. We're the ones who found you. I'm Blair Sandburg, and he's Jim Ellison, Cascade PD."

Xander's eyebrows headed for his hairline. "Really? Wow. Thanks for that. Thinking I definitely owe you one." He coughed a bit, winced as his abdomen informed him he was not to do that again, thank you very kindly, and then just made things worse by attempting to reach for the cup on the tray by his bed. Bad idea. Really, really bad. He inhaled through his teeth trying not to yell as pain shot from shoulder to fingertip at the movement. "Ohgodowww." He hissed.

Blair immediately shot to his feet and offered the cup. Xander sipped from the straw, giving Blair a somewhat embarrassed look. "Thanks. Do you know if they've called my folks?"

Jim grimaced. Oh, the cops had called all right. And gotten yelled at, then hung up on by Harris Sr. "Yeah."

Xander swallowed. "Look, I really hate to bug either of you, but ... I need to call my friend Willow. Mom won't think to call her, and she'll be in a full-blown panic by now."

Blair grabbed the hospital phone. "Not a problem, Xander. What's the number?"

Xander rattled it off, and Blair punched the numbers in for him and held the receiver so he could hear. The phone didn't even get to ring twice.

"Giles! Ohgod isthat you? Please tellme you've foundsomething!" Xander's heart twinged. Definitely a full-blown Willow-panic. From the sound of it, she had been crying, too. Though that wasn't all that surprising.

"Wills, it's me."

"XANDER! OHMYGOD WHEREARE YOUARE YOUALL RIGHT? WHATHAPPENED?" Xander jerked his head away from the phone at Willow's shriek, and noticed both Blair and Jim flinching at the volume.

"Wills. Wills, calm down, ok. Deep breaths." He waited until he heard her actually taking deep breaths before he continued. "Look, I'm in LA. Got attacked and dragged off, from what they're telling me."

"You're in the hospital?" Willow asked, voice wobbling like she was about to start crying again. At least she'd slowed down and wasn't shrieking at the top of her lungs.

"Yeah. Pretty banged up, too, from what they tell me. I've got no idea when I'll be home."

"You call every day, mister! And I'll get Giles to drive me up there in the morning! Buffy will be there too!" Willow insisted.

"You guys called her?" Xander asked, feeling guilty. He didn't comment on Willow's demand he call everyday, yet she said she'd be here in the morning.

"At lunchtime, when it was clear no one'd seen you."

Crap. Xander felt bad that this had messed up Buffy's time with her dad. He told Willow where he was and what room number, and after several reassurances, finally nodded to Blair to hang up. "Thanks for that." He said.

"No problem. You really weren't kidding about her being in a full-blown panic." Blair commented.

"We've been friends since we were toddlers." Xander told them. "Best friends, really." Well, them and ... but that was a wound that was still nowhere near healed. God, he missed Jesse.

Blair shot Jim a look, which Jim returned. No mention of his father and mother and when they'd be here, just a comment about his mother forgetting to call his friend. Combined with what the police had said the reaction to their call had been, it was beginning to paint a very not-pretty picture, but it was something that wasn't in their jurisdiction. Or even the LA group's.

"Well, they're not wanting us to hang around too long and tiring you out, so we'd better get going. Good to see you awake though, man." Blair said.

"Thanks. And thanks again for the save, both of you." Xander told them. Very shortly after they left, he was asleep again.

June 2, Hospital, late morning

Jim and Blair arrived as soon as visiting hours opened. At that, they crossed paths with two officers as they came out of Xander's room, evidently having spoken to him a second time. If the looks on their faces were anything to go by, Xander's memory was still a blank.

Xander was clearly slightly hopped up on pain meds this morning, as he grinned widely at Jim and Blair. "You came back! Not that I thought you wouldn't, because you said you would, and I totally don't think you're the kind of guys who go back on their word and I'm just really glad to see you and they kind of have me on the good drugs because I'm kinda babbling, you know?"

Jim couldn't help a laugh. "He's almost as bad as you are, Blair, when you get going."

"Hey, I do not babble. I speak at speed and with erudite enunciation." Blair protested.

"You babble, Chief." Jim said with a grin. Not frequently, but he did.

Blair gave a mock huff of annoyance, and Xander grinned more widely. Before anything else could be said, voices could be heard in the hallway, and seconds later the room got invaded. An older, graying man wearing tweed ... tweed of all things, in California no less, a short, blonde-haired girl and a taller redhead poured into the room. The redhead promptly burst into tears and started to fling herself at Xander, only to pull up as she realized how foolhardy that would be. The blonde got a look on her face like she dearly wanted to hurt something, and the older man's face blanked, but the eyes promised dire retribution on whoever had done this to Xander.

Jim didn't blame them for their distress. Xander looked like shit. He still had the goose egg, was covered in bruises, and sporting two splints on his upper arms. And that was just what was visible above the covers. Under the covers and under the hospital gown was even worse, Jim knew.

The redhead eventually settled on petting Xander's hair with a shaky hand, tears streaking down her face, completely incapable of speech at the moment. The blonde took up position on the other side of the bed. The older gentleman approached himself and Blair.

"Who might you be?" The man wanted to know.

"Jim Ellison, and this is Blair Sandburg. We found Xander." Jim filled him in. "Who're you? And them?" He gestured to the two girls. He was guessing the redhead was Willow, but he could be wrong

The man's blank-faced expression finally shifted to relief and gratitude. "Our thanks." He said, sounding truly sincere. "My name is Rupert Giles. The redhead is Willow Rosenberg and the blonde is Buffy Summers."

Jim fought down a smirk at the blonde's name. "How do you know Xander?"

"I'm the school librarian. Xander is part of an after-school study group that meets in the library several nights a week. I've become rather fond of the young man." Giles told him. "Willow and Buffy are part of the group as well. Willow's parents aren't in town at this time, so when she appealed to me for a ride ... " Giles let it trail off, grateful that what he'd said was the truth ... just not the entire truth. After all, Xander, Willow and Buffy did study in their get-togethers. They just studied demons rather than school subjects. While the adults of Sunnydale might swallow a blatant lie, Giles was not fool enough to think those outside of the Hellmouth's influence would be so gullible, especially not someone who'd clearly been in the military at one point, as Jim had to have been, given his bearing. With persons like that, it was best to stick as closely to the truth as was humanly possible, lest the person get nosy and end up messily dead.

Over by the bed, Xander was quietly trying to reassure Willow and Buffy. "I'll be ok guys. I know it looks bad, but give me a few weeks and I'll be back on my feet."

Sadly, neither girl was exactly buying it. Willow just continued to sniffle and pet his hair while Buffy looked frighteningly close to murderous. "I ever catch who did this, they're going to wish they'd never been born." Buffy growled, eyeballing Jim and Blair as she spoke and clearly editing what she really wanted to say with the strangers in mind. Xander knew they'd be talking later, as soon as the guys left.

"Whoever they were, they're probably long gone. Me getting away would not have been of the good, you know? They'd think the cops would be after them pretty darn quick." Xander grimaced. "I just wish I could remember anything."

Over on the other side of the room, Jim fought down a reaction. If the sudden change in heartrate was anything to go by, Xander had just lied. About not remembering? Why? Had he known his attacker? Afraid of later retribution? It wouldn't be the first time such a thing happened, sadly, but ... christ. Whoever'd done this would be going in for attempted murder if he had anything to say about it, alongside kidnapping, assault and battery and whatever other charges could be thrown at them. Whoever they were, they'd not be getting out of jail for a very long time, if ever.

After a few minutes, Jim and Blair said their goodbyes and headed out. They'd gotten almost to the end of the hall when Jim heard the blonde ... Buffy ... say "So, what really happened?"

Jim immediately put on the brakes, holding a hand out to stop Blair from taking off.

"What is it, man?"

Jim ignored him as he listened intently.

"Got conked over the head. Woke up in a basement with three of these big crocodile-gorilla crosses arguing over who got the tastiest bits. At least, I think that's what they were doing. Couldn't understand anything they were saying, if you call grunting speech."

"I should ... " Buffy started.

"Buffy, whatever they were, they're long gone, and this isn't the 'dale. Finding three critters in LA is going to be a really tall order." Xander said. "And I don't want to interrupt your time with your dad anymore than I already have."

"Did they call your folks?" Willow wanted to know.

"Yeah. They got Tony."

Evidently, that was 'enough said', as there was no further commenting from Willow on that subject.

"Do you have any idea how long you're going to need to remain in the hospital?" Giles wanted to know.

"No idea."

The talk switched to more everyday topics from there, and Jim sighed as he tugged Blair out to their rent-a-car. "Kid's been lying to the cops. He knows who attacked him." Jim told Blair once they were in the car. He repeated what he'd heard Xander say.

Blair frowned as he thought it over. "That's ... an odd choice of words and descriptions, Jim." He pointed out.

Jim couldn't help but agree, although. "Could be him trying to pretend whoever did all that to him wasn't human. Some sort of dissociation or something." It happened, with victims.

Blair was nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it could be. Still a little odd."

"No argument there, Chief." Jim said.

Chapter Text

Luke, I Am Your Father

A/N: There is no slash in this story. Jessica is just being a very catty B****. Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 2, L.A., Hospital

Jim and Blair returned a little after lunch. They found Willow tucked in a chair next to Xander's bed, but Giles and Buffy were nowhere to be seen. Xander looked to be asleep, which really wasn't all that surprising. Jim knew from experience he'd be fading in and out a lot over the next couple days.

"Hey." Blair greeted Willow. "Where'd the others get to?"

"Buffy had to go back to her dad's. Giles is getting us a hotel room until Xander can go home." Willow said. She got to her feet and then surprised Jim by hugging not only Blair, but himself. "Thank you so much for saving him." Her voice wobbled dangerously, and there were tears in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if ... " She cut herself off, refusing to even name that fear.

Jim gave her a slightly awkward pat on the shoulder. "We're just glad we stumbled across him in time." Well, not stumble so much as 'got led to', but there was no way in hell he was telling her that. He was just glad Blair wasn't talking his ear off with theories yet. Looked like Blair was as stumped by this one as he was.

Blair of course was nowhere near as awkward, and returned the hug easily, grinning at Willow as she retreated. Willow went back to her chair. Jim and Blair were just about to leave again, seeing as Xander was sleeping, when a redheaded woman walked in. For half a second, Jim thought it was Willow's mother, but almost immediately dismissed the notion at Willow''s less than pleased reaction to her arrival. Besides, there was something vaguely familiar about her that Jim couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Mrs. Harris!" Willow said, frowning, sounding shocked and oddly ... wary, to Jim's ears. She sat forward and eyed the doorway for several long moments, before finally sitting back and watching Mrs. Harris warily. Jim cocked an eyebrow at her reaction, but the reason for it swiftly became evident.

"What'd he do to himself this time?" Mrs. Harris wanted to know, sounding rather aggravated and not much concerned. Then she spotted Jim over in the corner and her eyes narrowed as she stared at him for a long moment. "James? What are you doing here?" She sounded very suspicious.

Jim blinked. Clearly the woman recognized him, but while there was something familiar about her, he couldn't place her. "We're the ones that found him. Collapsed in the middle of an LA street, bleeding profusely from abdominal wounds." He added that last sentence rather pointedly.

"Rather convenient you were there." She sniped. Jim's confusion must have shown on his face, because she gave a harsh laugh. "Oh, this is rich. You don't even remember me, do you?"

"Vaguely. You look familiar." Jim admitted.

"Too many girls in too many places, hmm?" She sniped. Then she eyed Blair. "Or did you finally get bored and start batting for the other team?"

"Hey, no way." Blair blurted out. "That's totally uncalled for."

Jim's jaw was jumping with the effort it took to not verbally eviscerate the woman. "Leave him out of this." He snapped.

She snorted. "Fine, fine, I'll leave your little catamite alone for now. I suppose I'll just give you a hint. Seattle, 1979."

Weirdly, that's all it actually took. "Jessica." Jim said, finally placing her. He'd been stationed at Fort Lewis for a while, they'd met, had a fairly good relationship for several months, then he'd gotten shipped out. What he couldn't figure out at the moment was why she was sniping at him so viciously. They'd said goodbye on pretty good terms, as far as he could recall.

The answer came in a form he was very much not expecting. The hyena appeared, standing on Xander's bed. Unlike in the dream, the hyena looked to be in perfect health. It whooped, curled up at the foot of Xander's bed and stared first at Jessica, then at him. From the looks on Jessica and Willow's (who was looking highly uncomfortable) faces, neither one of them was seeing the hyena, much to Jim's relief. Seeing it himself was bad enough. Trying to explain it to Jessica and Willow would be so much worse.

Beside him, Blair suddenly inhaled sharply, and his heartrate picked up. "Ohmanohmanohman." He whispered, quiet enough that probably only Jim heard him.

Jim glanced down at Blair. Blair's eyes were wide and stunned, and edging towards the look he got on his face when someone dangled a particularly juicy bit of academia in front of him. "Chief?" Blair looked up at him and then shook his head, refusing to give voice to the sudden suspicion that popped into his head while people 'not in the know' were in the room.

And evidently, the hyena was as impatient with Jim's slowness in clueing in as the jaguar had been, because it jumped down from the bed, butted his leg, feeling surprisingly solid in the process, then turned and nudged at Xander's arm. Jim still wasn't getting it.

"Congratulations." Jessica told him, breaking into his attempts to figure out what the critter only he and Blair could see was up to. "I really did think you'd forgotten."

Jim snorted. "Why are you so angry? I thought we left on good terms."

"Oh, we did. But that was before I discovered you left me with a parting gift I really didn't want." Jessica sniped.

And that is when Jim finally clued in. He stared at Xander for a moment in stunned disbelief, then finally tore his eyes off the kid and looked at Jessica. "He's mine?" He'd always been careful, but no contraceptive method was foolproof ... and Xander being his son would explain why the jaguar (and wolf) had led him to the kid. Certainly, Jim hadn't been able to think of any other reason why the heck he'd be led to the kid.

"And welcome to him. If I'd been able to find you, I'd have dropped him on your doorstep after he was born. He's been nothing but trouble."

Jim's eyes narrowed as he pinned her with a lethal glare. He sincerely doubted that Xander had actually been trouble. From the sounds of things, she'd taken out her frustrations on the poor kid. It left an acid taste in his mouth, remembering how acrimonious his own childhood had been with a father that really hadn't wanted anything to do with him. "I seriously doubt Xander was actually the one at fault, Jessica." Jim growled.

Jessica just barked another laugh. "Whatever. And now he's caused even more trouble than ever. What we're going to do with him in this state, I don't know. I don't have the time to babysit him."

And she clearly hadn't from day one, evidently. Jim looked at Xander, the hyena sitting on the floor, staring at him, waiting. Mentally, Jim scrambled. His loft was just barely big enough for two people as it was ... shit. They'd manage. He could find an actual house or a bigger apartment later. Like hell he was leaving Xander to dangle in the wind, even if the kid wasn't his. Poor kid couldn't even feed himself at this point, with his arms as messed up as they were, and he'd need months of physical therapy to recover from the attack. And if Xander really was his ... well, there was no way he was going to be the asshole his own father had been. "I'll take it from here, then." He fairly growled at Jessica.

She laughed. "Like I said, you're welcome to him. Good riddance." And she flounced out.

Jim was deeply tempted to go after her and do something he normally didn't do with women (unless they were perps, of course) ... flatten her. He took a couple deep breaths to try to get his frayed temper back under control.

Willow had gone from looking highly uncomfortable to out-and-out crying. Blair headed over to her and crouched down. "Hey. It'll be ok." He told her.

"N-n-n-o it w-w-w-on't." Willow sniffled. "Y-y-y-ou t-t-t-two live in W-w-w-w-w-ash *hic* ington!"

Jim snorted. "Yeah we do, but that doesn't mean you'll never see or hear from Xander again, kid. Actually, he's probably going to need you around more than ever. We'll figure something out."

Willow looked up at him with wide, wounded eyes. "You p-promise?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I promise, Willow. I've been getting the feeling you're pretty much the only one who's cared if Xander lived or died for quite a while. I'm not about to yank that away from him." He rubbed at his face. "I'm just glad he was asleep for that." Nobody needed to hear their own parent say stuff like that and then walk out without a backwards glance. It was a seriously shitty thing to do. The sort of thing he'd expect his own father to pull, honestly, though with a bit more knife-twisting added in for flavor.

Oh hell. His father. When word got out he'd procreated, all hell was going to break loose. Jim snorted, almost relishing the chance to deal with his father once and for all, one way or the other. God knew that William Ellison wasn't going to get his hands on Xander to ruin the kid completely.

"You'd better go catch up with her, man, and make sure the hospital knows you can take Xander with you." Blair pointed out.

Jim cursed and hustled out of the room. Fortunately, he managed to catch Jessica at the elevator.

"Now what do you want?" She demanded.

"Your signature saying I can take Xander out of here when he's released." Jim growled at her. "They won't take my word for it I'm his father, you know."

Jessica snarled. "Damnit, that kid's trouble even when I manage to get rid of him. Fine. Let's go. I'll mail you his shit later." She veered off towards the nurse's station.

Jim ground his teeth in an effort to keep from slapping the woman. She'd been rather pleasant, all those years ago. Not the love of his life, certainly, but nothing like the vicious-tongued harpy she was now. He vaguely wondered what had happened to her to turn her so nasty, or if she'd been like this all along and had just hid it from him. Certainly, they hadn't been together for a great enough length of time for her to 'slip up' and reveal her true self, if that was the case.

The next hour or so were rather interesting, between getting the appropriate papers signed and (privately) commiserating with the rather horrified hospital officials who were having to deal with them both. Jim was not exactly at his happiest at the moment, and Jessica was being a bitch. Finally, they got all the hooplah dealt with and Jim could return to the ... his son's hospital room.

Damn, that was going to take some getting used to. He'd have to arrange for a paternity test to be sure, of course, but ... well, even if the kid wasn't his, something was going on here, and the kid needed help, and the good knew Jim could afford to host the kid for a while, thanks to blood money he'd gotten from the Army over the whole Peru mission mess.

Just outside the door, he heard Xander's voice and stopped dead in his tracks, half afraid to go in. Then Xander's heatrate went through the roof and he really didn't have a choice. He hurried in.

Xander was staring at the foot of his bed (and the hyena, which had returned there sometime after Jim had left), his entire body rigid. He reeked of horrified terror , but weirdly, the emotion didn't seem to be making it to his face.

"So what'd I miss during my nap?" Xander wanted to know, his voice a little high and a little tight, but that would be easy to explain away as him being in pain still. "'cause my Willow-girl's all sniffly and that's never a good thing, and Blair's all with the googly eyes and I'm thinking that means something happened so please tell me, because if you don't I'm going to start thinking I'm dying or something here."

Jim blinked. Well, the kid could definitely babble, even when he wasn't hopped up on pain meds as he'd been earlier this morning. "You're not dying." He said. "Your mother showed up."

"Oh god. Don't tell me. She insulted the doctor or something," Xander said in a long-suffering voice.

"Something a bit more than that, actually." Jim said, then sighed. God, he really wanted to hurt Jessica about now. "Your mom and I knew each other a long time ago."

"And she yelled at you or something?" Xander asked. Willow reached over and curled her fingers around his.

"Well, that too." Jim said. Which had Blair huffing in amusement. "She ... well, let it be known that Tony wasn't actually your father." Shit, he was such a coward, but really, how in hell did you tell someone something like this?

Xander blinked, blinked again, then gave a shaky laugh. "Ok. Wake up anytime, Xander. It's nice to be away from the owwies for a while, but really. Dreaming the guy that saved your ass is telling you Tony's not your father while a damn hyena's sitting on your bed staring at you is just a little on the wiggy side of life."

Willow's eyes went huge, and her heartrate abruptly skyrocketed. "Xander?" She asked in a small, worried-sounding voice. "You see ... you're not asleep, Xander." Her gaze darted to the end of the bed, skating over the hyena without actually seeing it. "I think maybe they need to turn the meds down." She finally told Jim. "'cause he's hallucinating a little or something."

"I'm not ... oh god. Damnit. Yeah. I really am high as a kite, aren't I?" Xander said, his voice shaking.

Jim eyed Blair, who was looking between the two kids. Snickering at Xander for 'seeing' something when he was apparently high as a kite, he could understand from Willow, but she was edging towards panic and outright fear, and Xander was already there. Had been since he'd first spotted the thing, despite not exactly looking scared. Something odd was definitely going on here.

As if it sensed its presence was not helping matters, the hyena blinked out of existence. Xander's entire body relaxed and he closed his eyes in relief. "'sgone, Wills." He muttered.

Willow looked immensely relieved, and rallied. "You're awake though, and I'm here to totally back Mr. Ellison up on the whole 'your mom saying Tony's not your dad' thing. Except she kinda also said Jim was your dad. They met in Seattle or something."

Well, that was one way to break the news.

Xander blinked at his best friend. Eyed the end of the bed again, then looked at Willow. "Run that by me again?" He asked.

"Mr. Ellison's your dad." Willow repeated.

Xander dearly wished he could ... well, something. Pace, move, run away, anything rather than being stuck in this damn bed right about now. Christ. He'd wished practically all his life ... He closed his eyes, jaw clenched. He wasn't going to ask the obvious question. He didn't need to find out that Jim knew and hadn't given a shit. Xander Lavelle Harris didn't get happily ever afters. He just didn't, and he really, really didn't need another kick while he was down.

"If I'd known, I'd have been there." Jim's voice rumbled. "I was in the Army at the time. Your mom and I met, had a good time for several months, then I got shipped out. She apparently found out she was pregnant sometime after I left, and either didn't try to contact me or tried but couldn't get a hold of me. Either way, I didn't know."

Xander's heart twisted painfully and he took several deep, shaky breaths trying to keep from crying. Stupid meds. After several long moments, he opened his eyes. "So now what?"

"Now? Now, you're coming to Cascade with me. At least for the summer. It'll take you that long to heal up completely." Jim said. "After that, well, we'll work that out when we come to it." Jim motioned towards Willow. "Already told your best friend here she's more than welcome to call, write, and even show up at our door whenever she wants to see you." And he'd pay for the plane or bus fare, if it came to that.

That seemed to be the final reassurance Xander needed, because he sagged even further into the bed. "Ok." Then he sighed. "I'm getting kind of tired again."

Which was a rather blatant lie, but Jim was willing to let it stand. "Yeah, we'll head out for a while, come back later tonight or tomorrow."

He practically had to drag Blair out of the room. Once they were in the elevator, Blair started to bounce hard enough to jostle the elevator. "He saw the hyena, Jim. I wonder why he was so freaked out? I mean, I'd be a bit freaked at seeing an animal like that but he was like, way stressed. More than made sense, you know?"

"Yeah. And Willow nearly went off the scale when he mentioned a hyena, too." Jim said. "So I'm wondering what the heck the deal is there."

"Jim, man ... you think maybe ... I mean, he's your kid."

"Noticed that, Chief." Jim said, not quite understanding what Blair was getting at.

"Jim, what if he's a Sentinel too?"

"Fuck. I hope not." Was Jim's heartfelt response. "I wouldn't wish this shit on a dog, and they already have better senses than people do." He rubbed his face with one hand. "But if that's what's going on, I'll try to help him with it." He couldn't do any less. At least Xander was young. Maybe, without a dick for a father forcing him to bury and deny the senses, he'd adapt to them better. Jim certainly hoped that would be the case, if Xander turned out to be a Sentinel.

Chapter Text

Discussions

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 2, L.A.

Jim called Simon the minute they got to the hotel room. Simon was going to have a fit, but he needed to know.

"Simon, I'm going to need some personal time."

"Say that again? You're breaking up." Simon said, his tone surprised. Jim didn't blame him. Normally, Jim had to be forced at gunpoint (ok, not quite, but close enough) to take time off even when he was deathly sick. Taking time off when he wasn't was completely unheard of.

"You heard me the first time, Simon." Jim said, fighting the laugh that wanted out.

"Did Blair slip you something, Jim?" Simon sounded both amused and a bit concerned.

"Probably, but it wouldn't have been enough to pull this." Jim said. Blair was, after all, forever trying to slip health food and supplements into Jim's diet, against Jim's protests.

"Got a lead on the perp, then?"

"No." Jim braced himself for the explosion he knew was coming, arm tensed to yank the phone away from his ear when (not if, when) Simon yelled. "He's my kid."

There was a long, pained silence on the other end of the phone. Jim could hear the never-ending racket that was the Major Crimes unit at the station, a melange of typing, talking, and movement.

"Say that again." Simon demanded, voice tense and almost angry.

"Kid's name is Xander. His mother showed up a couple hours ago. She recognized me. I recognized her. Turns out, the kid is mine." Another pained silence. Jim mentally cringed, waiting for the explosion. He wasn't disappointed. There was the slam of Simon's office door, and then.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Jim?" Simon bellowed. Jim yanked the phone away from his ear before the first word was fully out of Simon's mouth. "Just because some floozy on the take says a kid is yours ... "

"She wasn't lying, Simon." Jim said. He could hear Simon's teeth grinding over the phone, irritation at being interrupted and at the cloaked reference to Jim's abilities, that Simon was still coming to terms with. "And even if she is ... they've walked away from him. Left him here 'cause he's 'nothing but trouble' and they don't have time in their busy day to deal with him." And if Jim's tone got any more disgusted and sarcastic, it'd be a miracle. "I get the feeling they weren't even going to pay the medical bill, Simon. The kid's going to need weeks, probably months, of therapy to get back in shape, and it's going to be several more days before he can even manage to feed himself because his arms are so messed up." He wished he could tell Simon about the hyena, but that ... wasn't the wisest idea. He'd probably have a coronary for real. Simon had accepted that Jim's enhanced senses existed, but he was still adapting to the knowledge, and had no idea whatever about spirit animals or anything of that ilk.

There was a long, put-upon sigh from Simon. "Dammit, Jim. You really need to stop adopting strays." Some measure of humor returned to his voice.

Jim snorted. "Blair wasn't a stray." He pointed out.

"Yeah, you keep trying to tell me that. This is me believing you." Simon said, now almost laughing. Given that Blair's week to find a new apartment after his warehouse apartment blew up had ended over a year ago, he had reason to be so amused. "I'll give you the time, but dammit, Jim, be careful, all right?"

"You too, Simon, and thanks." Jim hung up, then glanced over at Blair. "I'm going to need to head back to Cascade tomorrow, Blair. Get the loft ready. We're going to have to move, but there's not time to actually move before he gets released. Takes more than a couple days."

"Especially with you and your color coding." Blair teased gently. He'd long since figured out that Jim's anal-retentive streak was his way of compensating for the uncontrollable insanity that was his senses. There was also no way Jim would let a bunch of professional movers come in and pack the loft up, for the same reason, so it was going to be up to them. "You going to be ok on your own?" Jim still had a lot of problems with zoning and spiking, and this would be the first time they'd be away from each other for more than a day since Blair had moved in.

"Yeah, I should be." Jim told him. "Not like I'm going to be tracking perps or anything, so I won't be pushing thing. And it won't take all that long. Get there, clean the place up, clear the living room out, check for any larger apartments to move to, then back."

Blair nodded even as Jim grabbed the phone again to call the airport and see what flights were available.

June 2, Hospital

Xander watched Jim and Blair leave, trying not to mentally freak out. Hyena. Jessica, Tony, dad. HYENA. Gah. No. Hyenas bad. Very bad. Very very bad. And he really wasn't wanting to think about it. Any of it. But he couldn't exactly stop thinking about it. Dad. Hyena. Dad. HYENA! Xander gave his head a sharp shake, annoyed at the nearly hysterical circling thoughts, and glanced over at Willow, searching for and finding an escape from his thoughts.

"So Wills, what really happened, now that the amazing Xander-saving duo are gone?" He asked.

Willow gave him a wide-eyed look. "Xander ... you just ... your dad ... "

"Not thinking about that. Totally not. So I'm wanting to know what all else I missed while I was asleep." He'd freak and flip out ... oh, who was he kidding. "Jesus. He's really not my dad. I mean, all that time and ... Crap. What if he's worse than Tony?"

Willow shook her head, wishing she could hug Xander to comfort him, but that so wasn't an option for a while yet, not as banged up as Xander was. "I don't think he is. You should have seen him, Xander. I think he wanted to punch your mom in the face for the stuff she was saying, and I kinda wanted to help him. She was being way totally over the line in mean."

"I was afraid of that. What'd she say?" Xander asked, looking torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know. At least it was distracting him.

Willow's eyes got big, and then she narrowed them. "Sneaky, mister! Very sneaky. We are not talking about missed-out-on things. We are talking about dads and how to deal with them!"

Xander pouted a bit at having got caught. "Not at my best to plot and plan, Wills. Brain's more than a bit fuzzy. And I probably need to get them to switch me to something else because I really don't need a trip down bad-memory lane and oh crap." If he could have clapped a hand over his mouth, he would have. Damn the pain meds he was on, giving him verbal diarrhea. Willow and Buffy were not supposed to find out he remembered, damnit, and Willow would not let that comment pass.

"Bad memory ... Xan?" Willow asked, eyes wide. "I mean, we told you some of ... but you ... you remember?"

Xander looked deeply pained for a moment, then closed his eyes and pushed his head into his pillow in frustration. "Fuck. Really need off the meds. Yes, I remember. Everything. But so help me, Willow, you tell Buffy, and I ... well, I don't know what I'll do but I'll figure something out and you won't like it, missy!" Somehow, the threat lacked any perceptible danger, what with him flat on his back in bed.

"But ... why didn't you tell us you remembered?" Willow asked, lip wobbling.

"Because I wish I didn't? Because I did some really unforgivable things and I thought it'd be easier for you guys to forget about it if you thought I didn't remember? Because I hate myself for having hurt you and Buffy? Because it rates right behind losing Jesse as 'crappiest day of my life'? Pick a reason, Wills, and it's probably on my list." Xander said, eyes still closed.

Willow's eyes had gotten very wide, and she reached over and put a hand on his. "Oh, Xander. Sometimes, you really are silly. It wasn't you! We know that! We knew that! There was, is nothing to forgive, you big dork. And yeah, hurting and scaring us can't be fun for you to remember but that doesn't mean you have to carry it alone, mister! We're best friends, aren't we? Best friends tell each other things!" She scolded. Xander finally opened his eyes and let out a half-amused snort. From the look in her eye, she dearly wanted to swat him for being such a dunce, but didn't dare because he was already hurting.

It was oddly comforting to get a Willow-scold, even if he didn't really believe her, not in his heart of hearts. Xander would probably always hate himself more than a little for that mess, always think he could have, should have fought harder, stopped himself. Not gone into the hyena house in the first place. Something, anything other than being the pathetic loser who hurt his best friend and came frighteningly close to raping his other friend. Gah. "Still. Don't need to be seeing hyenas everywhere. Very wiggy." He finally said.

Willow nodded. "Yeah. Especially since you got demon-napped, you know? They could have done something. We ought to tell Giles when he gets back, so he can check things out."

That made sense to Xander, even as he shuddered in horror at the thought of the demons 'doing something' while he'd been knocked out. Wiggins-ville, that. "Yeah. It'll set my mind at ease, anyway. I really, really, really don't need or want to be hyena boy again. Like, ever. Ever ever."

Willow agreed with that wholeheartedly. She changed the subject a bit, getting it off the hyena, even though the only other subject she could think of was ... not all that happy either. "He's planning on taking you to Cascade." She said quietly.

Xander sighed. "It's probably for the best for right now, Wills. You know Jessica and Tony won't lift a finger to help me, and I'm going to be in rough shape for a while. On top of that ... I'll be easy pickings for the nightlife for quite a while. Cascade's got to be safer, if Jim's on the level. I'll work on figuring a way back to the 'dale after I heal up, I promise. I'm not about to leave you'n Buffy in the lurch." Then he grinned. "And hey, maybe Jim can show me a thing or two in the meantime, you know? So I'm not quite so pathetic on patrol."

Willow scowled. "Hey, mister! You're not pathetic, so stop with the thinking you are!" She really wished he would. She knew why he thought he was such a pathetic loser ... the reasons were named Jessica and Tony ... but he honestly wasn't pathetic in any way, shape, or form.

Xander snorted. "Right, I'm not pathetic. You run circles around me at school, I'm of more use as helpless bait than as a fighter when it comes to the nightlife ... "

Willow shook a finger at him. "You just stop right there, mister. So you're not a genius or ... or Chuck Norris." Xander snickered at that. "Unless you're forgetting mister, you're in the same classes I am, and you manage passing grades. You think all of those classes are normal ones?" Willow'd been bright enough that her parents had been offered the option to let her skip a grade two years ago, but Willow had point-blank refused to leave Xander behind. The compromise solution had been for Willow to go into some advanced classes in the areas she did best at ... and she'd dragged Xander along with her. He didn't get A's in those classes, to be sure, but he still managed passing grades, so he was brighter than he realized. "And it takes longer than a year to get good at fighting. Neither of us had a reason to learn, before now. You'll get there."

Xander blinked at Willow, stunned at her revelation. "Wait a minute, you mean I've been in advanced classes ... how long has that been going on?"

"Since last school year. I was doing well enough that they thought I could use the challenge, and I picked the classes I knew you did best in, and conned them into letting you sign up for them too." Ok, so it wasn't the whole truth, but if Xander found out she'd turned down the opportunity to skip a grade in the name of staying with her best friends, he'd never forgive himself, and that was the last thing he needed right now. Or ever.

Xander went to say something, but a massive yawn surprised him. He sighed. "Gonna finish this later, Wills. I'm about to conk out again."

Chapter Text

Yet More Chats

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 3, L.A.

Fortunately for Xander's sense of well-being, Giles showed up early the next morning. By then, Xander and Willow (who had left after Xander fell asleep the night before, then returned first thing) had abandoned fretting over hyenas and dads for arguing (amiably) about pretty much anything and everything, as Xander was having a hard time concentrating on anything thanks to the drugs.

"Giles! Man! Good to see you again. Man, it has seriously been a wiggins-worthy day, I'll tell you what. I mean, what with finding new dads and seeing hyenas and really, it's been freaky with a side of weird and a topping of what the hell."

Giles' eyes went wide and he cleared his throat before grabbing his glasses to clean them. "I ... Xander ... that is ... " He shot Willow a look.

"Mr. Ellison is Xander's real dad, or at least he says he is." Willow explained. "Mrs. Harris showed up and they recognized each other and she told him but Xander was asleep so Xander found out later and while they were talking about it Xander said something about seeing a hyena and thinking he was asleep but he totally wasn't because I wouldn't have been dreaming the exact same thing he did except for seeing the hyena but maybe the hyena was the drugs?"

Giles just blinked at Willow a few moments, trying to parse and process the babble. "Mr. Ellison claims to be Xander's father?"

"No ... his mom said he was." Willow corrected, frowning. "Said Mr. Ellison'd left her with a present she really didn't want." From her tone, she was very, very not pleased about that comment, but that was hardly surprising. "And she said a lot of really mean things and then just left. She wasn't even going to try to take care of Xander, and Mr. Ellison said he'd take Xander with him until he healed up because he really can't be alone, and I don't want him to go all the way to Washington, but ... "

"Wills, slow down. Think you're baffling the G-man there." Xander said, sounding highly amused as he watched Giles try to polish his glasses into nonexistence.

"Oh. Sorry." Willow said, blushing a bit.

"I shall attempt to do what I can to ascertain Mr. Ellison's credentials." Giles reassured them both. "Now, what was this about a hyena? Xander, I thought ... "

"Giles, I kind of told Willow." Xander admitted. "She grumped at me a bit for lying about it, but she's not uber-freaked about me remembering." He grimaced. "We are both, however, rather a bit worried about the fact I saw a damn big hyena sprawled all over the foot of my bed staring at me like I was lunch."

Giles frowned, and finally put his glasses back on. "I see. That is worrying. I cannot do much about it at the moment, but as soon as we return to Sunnydale, I will see what I can find. It may be that it was, indeed, just the drugs, but it pays to be cautious, given past events."

"No kidding." Xander said fervently.

"Have you perceived any return of the mental state that accompanied the possession?" Giles wanted to know.

"Don't think so, no, but I'm also a bit drugged up at the moment, so that could be affecting it." Xander said. "I can at least say for sure the senses that came with the spirit aren't evident, or I'd be going nuts about now. Hospitals stink bad enough with a normal nose."

Giles gave a firm nod. "Well, that you're not being subjected to the same emotional state is an encouraging sign. However, if you perceive a return of that state ... "

"I will be booking it back to Sunnydale three seconds later, everything else be damned, so you can lock me up until you figure out what in hell's going on." Xander said firmly.

"Quite."

They chatted for a bit more, but then it was lunchtime, and they both got chased out, for which Xander was deeply relieved. He'd probably get a Willow-scold if he 'fessed up, but he really didn't want Giles, Willow, or Buffy seeing him having to be fed. Oh, he knew Willow would volunteer for the duty in a heartbeat, but he just ... yeah. No. A guy has to have some sort of pride and ego, right? So he was totally drawing the line at this. It was embarrassing as hell, and easier to deal with when it was a relative stranger doing it. By the time it was over, he was ready for bed, and slipped easily into sleep.

And dreamed.

He was loping easily across sun-baked grasslands. Wildebeest, zebra, antelopes of every description, giraffes and a myriad of smaller animals were scattered as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a lion roared, and he veered in another direction, not wanting to cross paths with the larger beast when alone.

And he was alone. That was not good. He needed ... he was searching for ... something. Something that kept tugging at him, pulling him gently. There was no sense of urgency or danger, just a desire to find that which he sought. But it was not here. Not yet. With the dogged patience of a long-distance hunter, he kept moving, knowing he would get there eventually, and find what he was looking for.

He blinked awake the next morning and gave a purely mental shake of his head. That did it. He was making them lower the drugs. He was so not needing to dream stuff like that. Seriously. Willow showed up shortly after breakfast with Blair in tow, and he greeted them both.

"Hey Wills. Mr. Sandburg."

"Just Blair, Xander. You're going to be seeing a lot of me. I ride along with Jim at work. Working on a dissertation about the 'thin blue line.'." Blair grinned. "That and last year my warehouse apartment blew up. Someone was cooking meth in the other half of the warehouse and boom. So Jim let me move in with him."

"Really? That was nice of him." Xander said.

"He headed back to Cascade this morning, to get stuff ready for when they let you out of here." Blair said. "He should be back sometime tomorrow."

"In the meantime, you can dish all the dirt on the Jim-man." Xander said with a grin, which got a laugh out of Blair.

"Oh man, dirt. Yeah, you could say I have some of that." Blair said with a grin.

The next couple hours had both Willow and Xander grinning and giggling as Blair tattled on Jim about some of his foibles and less-than-shining moments, though Blair was careful to never bring up anything directly related to the whole Sentinel gig. Xander might be one (or have the possibility of being one, since so far there wasn't any obvious signs of enhanced senses), and as Jim's kid he definitely had a right to know, but this wasn't the time or place for it, and besides, he and Jim hadn't actually talked about telling Xander so Blair didn't know if Jim would be ok with it.

"Now you know ... " Blair started.

"I never heard any of it from you." Xander said with a grin, still snickering. It hurt more than a little to laugh, but it felt good to at the same time. Definitely good to get his mind off things for a bit.

The day just got better a little before dinner. There was a knock and then Buffy poked her head around the door. "Hey, Xander. You awake in here?"

"Yup. Just shooting the breeze with Willow and Blair." Xander said.

She came in and gave his hand a squeeze, which was about as good as anyone could do by way of a hug. "How you doing?" She wanted to know.

"Fair to middling. Being stuck flat on my back sucks, but they're talking about starting me getting sat up tomorrow, which ought to be loads of fun." Xander grimaced. He was very much not looking forward to that, even if he knew it was a completely necessary thing. "And a bit babbly with the whole pain meds thing, but then I tend to babble even at the best of times, so hey."

Buffy grinned at him. "Well, if you're babbling, it can't be too bad. I'll save the worry for a babble-less Xander."

Xander showed his great maturity by sticking his tongue out at her. "Hey ... I kinda need to tell you, unless Giles did?"

"Told me what?" Buffy asked. Well, that answered that question, didn't it?

"Umm ... turns out, the guy that saved my neck is my dad. Mom showed up and blabbed."

Buffy blinked. "Whoah. That's ... kinda freaky. I mean ... " She slid a look Blair's way, clearly wanting to say something else, but they had company.

"Yeah, I know. Definitely of the weird. Good news is, he's willing to let me schleb around his place while I'm stitching myself back into a fully Xander-shaped piece, so that's of the good. I was so not looking forward to trying to deal with my folks like this." That way lay much badness, no question about it.

"But ... but that's, like, Washington!" Buffy objected, sounding nearly as put out as Willow had been.

"It's just for the summer, Buffy. Just pretend it's a vacation, ok? I'll be back." Xander told her. And he would be, too, one way or another. He couldn't, wouldn't walk out on the fight. Not after Jesse, and for damn sure not after the whole Master mess. Someone had to watch Buffy's back. Angel for damn sure wasn't, even if Xander had trusted the backstabbing liar, and Giles seemed to waffle between watching her back and not.

Buffy bit at her lip, but then sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Ok. Just the summer, though, mister, because otherwise I will come to Washington and drag you back. And I'm pretty sure Willow will be only too glad to help!"

Xander grinned at that. "No worries, Buff. You ladies are my best friends. I'm not in a big hurry to leave that behind."

"Hey, where is Mister Muscles anyway? And if you tell him I called him that, you're dead meat!" Buffy wanted to know.

"Back in Cascade, evidently, arranging things so I can go there." Xander answered.

Blair just sat back and watched the whole thing. He was a people-watcher by trade. Anthropology was, at its heart, all about observation of detail. It helped that Xander, Buffy, and Willow seemed to have forgotten his presence entirely. There was so much going on here Blair didn't even know where to begin. Xander and his friends were more than a bit of a mystery. First, the faking not knowing what had happened, when according to what Jim had overheard, Xander knew at least some of it. Then there was the over-reaction to the hyena by Willow. Xander's reaction was at least a touch more understandable, as he could see it. Willow, however, hadn't been able to see it, but had reacted with very real fear when Xander mentioned it. And now this little chat, which was so full of undecipherable (to him) subtext it wasn't funny. He was dying to poke his nose in and start asking questions, but somehow he didn't think that would go over any too well, so he kept his mouth shut, consoling himself that he'd have all summer to work on Xander. He also made a mental note to tell Jim that Xander intended to return to Sunnydale. Blair didn't know what that was about, but he foresaw a rather spectacular argument at some point in the future when the subject came up. Jim would want Xander to stay in Cascade.

June 3, Cascade, Washington.

Jim survived the plane trip to Cascade, if only barely. He grimaced and shook his head to try to clear the racket from his senses as he headed for the loft.

It took all of about an hour to make sure the walkways were clear of Blair's usual detritus, but several more to find a futon he thought wouldn't kill Xander's back and that the kid would be able to get out of until the full move was accomplished. He then had to set the thing up and rearrange the front room to accommodate it. It'd be a tight fit, but livable.

Then he went and grabbed his paperwork on the building. If he remembered right, there were a couple of apartments not being rented at the moment. One of them might be big enough to hold the three of them. Fifteen minutes of flipping through papers found him his answer. There was one. Better, for Xander's sake anyway, it was on the ground floor, and had three bedrooms. Small ones, by the measurements listed (the biggest was 12 feet square), but they'd each have rooms to themselves, which was definitely a good thing for the longer term.

That done, he called Simon to let him know what all was going on. "Hey Simon."

"Jim. How's the kid."

"Hopped on painkillers and a little wigged about finding out his dad wasn't who he thought it was, but otherwise fine the last time I saw him. I'm kind of worried about what he and Blair will do, teaming up on me." Jim told Simon.

Simon snorted in amusement. "Bit of a brat then, is he?"

"Not so you'd notice, but he's definitely got a weird sense of humor on him, though that could easily be the drugs talking. Anyway, how're things going?"

"Fine here. Rafe and H wrapped their case earlier today. No sign of any new crazies for the moment, but knowing this town, that won't last long, so hurry and get your ass back here, you hear me?"

"Right. Will do, Simon. Hopefully Xander will be cut loose in a couple of days, though getting him here will be fun. Think I'm going to have to rent a van for the trip ... sitting up for most of the day when your stomach's been torn up and stitched back together just a week ago is not fun."

"Hmmm, true."

"Talk to you later, Simon." Jim hung up. He still had another couple hours until his return flight, so he started boxing a few things. Eventually, it was time to head for the airport, and he locked up the loft before heading out.

Chapter Text

New Horizons Approaching

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Someone from SG-1 finally makes an appearance!

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

June 7, L.A.

For Xander, the next three days were pure hell. His physical therapy began. It was rather embarrassing, humiliating, downright frustrating and not to mention painful as hell to try to work arm and torso muscles that had been put through the grinder and were now staging a revolt. At first, sitting up under his own power for five or ten seconds at a stretch had him sweating buckets and all but biting through his lip to keep from saying something extremely rude to the therapist. Moving his arms was just plain agony. But, with the promise of 'be able to sit up on your own for half an hour and we'll let you out of here', Xander had a mission, and kept working at it relentlessly.

The three days passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion ... if he wasn't exercising or eating, he was sleeping. And the few moments in between each, he wasn't much by way of company to anybody, too sore and out of sorts to be his usual goofy self. Not that that stopped Willow, or Buffy, or even Giles. Or Blair or Jim, come to that. Both Jim and Buffy (Buffy only when Jim and Blair weren't present) played spotter for him during his exercises. Jim endured Xander's grumping without returning it in kind. Buffy just distracted him from the grumpies as much as she could with a nearly non-stop stream of chatter. It did help, a little. Some of the time. There were times he wanted to snap at her to shut up, but he managed to keep his mouth shut.

Eventually, on the third day, he managed to sit under his own power for the required half hour. It helped that the bruising, which had been a large part of the problem, had gotten past the really painful stage, fading from nearly black to something close to green. The therapist (whom Xander had taken to calling Mister Sadist in his head) congratulated him and later that day the doctor showed up. One final check up of everything and the doctor agreed he would be free to go the next day. Xander was deeply relieved to be getting the heck out of the hospital.

Blair had spent the last three days watching everyone, and poking around a bit, to no avail. He eventually decided to figure out how to get them all to Cascade once Xander was free to go, and by the time Xander was told it would be possible, he'd found a schedule for trains with sleeper cars that were headed for Cascade. It was a better option than driving, at least. More comfortable for Xander, certainly.

The next morning, Xander got a bit of a surprise. Giles, Willow and Buffy piled in the door the minute visiting hours started, bringing with them cake and other illicit foods hidden in their pockets, purses, and in the 'gift bags'. Xander wished he could hug them.

"Oh man. I officially love you guys. It's been way, way too long without my sugary goodness." He mumbled around a Twinkie, the first thing he'd gone for when the booty had been revealed in all its glory.

Buffy grinned. "Hey, we figured that might have been part of the problem the last couple days. No snacks makes for a grumpy Xander?"

"Yeah, it does." He agreed. Oh, they all knew there'd been other things to make him grumpy, but hey, sugar! Who cared! "I'm really going to miss you guys." He said, then eyed Willow. "You're going to be careful, right?" He demanded.

"Yeah, definitely. No going out after dark for me. Maybe once Buffy gets back but until then, nuh uh!" Willow shook her head firmly.

Xander sighed in relief. "Good. I'd never forgive myself if you get hurt with me gone." He admitted.

Giles shook his head a bit. "I have done what research I can while away from my library." He said. "Unfortunately, given your rather sparse description, I haven't been able to ascertain what it was that attacked you."

Xander blinked at Giles a little bit for that somewhat odd comment, then figured out what he meant, considering Giles had already mentioned trying to research the demons that got him. The hyena thing. He'd evidently not been able to find anything conclusive in the few books he'd brought with him. Not really surprising, that, though Xander appreciated the attempt.

"No big, Giles. I'll know 'em if I ever see them again ... and promptly run the other way!"

"You better, mister!" Willow scolded.

Down the hall, Jim cursed. He'd heard Xander's last comment. "Damn, looks like they were talking about the attack again, and I missed it." He told Blair. "Should have started listening the moment we got here."

Blair's eyebrows went up. "Man, something is so going on with those three. I would really like to know what."

"That makes two of us, Chief." Jim told him. They closed the rest of the distance to Xander's room in relative silence, then Jim poked his head around the door. "Hey, Xander. Looks like quite the party in here."

"Come join the fun, Jim." Xander invited.

He'd sort of shoved the whole 'he is my dad' thing into a corner of his mind, and was basically treating Jim like he would any friendly not-evil adult. It was just easier that way, at least until he'd gotten his head around the whole thing. Jim seemed to be pretty ok with it, which helped. The two of them came in, and Blair put a bag of his own on Xander's lap.

"Since your stuff got torn up, I figured you'd probably need a new shirt and pants to get out of here in." Blair said.

Xander blinked. That hadn't even occurred to him. "Oh. Duh. Yeah, yeah, I will. Thanks!" Moving carefully, he managed to tip the bag over so that he could see the contents. A pair of new black sweat pants and an old-looking, enormous button-up in faded blue. The arms had been cut off to allow for the bulk of the splints, and with it being so oversized, it'd fit over the wrappings around his chest and stomach. "Oh man, thanks. I really appreciate it. I'd completely forgotten about my shirt at least being a total write-off." And loose, easily pulled up sweat pants would make his life that much easier, too.

"No problem, Xander. No problem at all." Blair told him. "So any word on when they're going to bring the papers around?"

"Not for a few hours. I don't think doctors get up before noon unless it's an emergency."

Blair chuckled and shot a sideways look at Jim, remembering 'Dr. McKay'. "I don't think that's quite true, man."

"Maybe not, but it sure seems like it sometimes." Xander shot back with a grin.

June 7, Colorado Springs, Colorado

Jon O'Neill was slumped in the living room of his tiny little apartment, staring vacantly at the television. He was, frankly, bored out of his damn mind, and restless as hell. Whose bright idea had it been, again, for him to go through frickin' high school? Oh yeah, that would be him. Stupid idiot. God. What had he been drinking when he came up with this shit?

He missed the SGC. He missed Daniel and Sam and Teal'c and, god help him, he actually was getting to the point where he was beginning to think of Freya/Anise with something approaching fond nostalgia. This was really frakkin' bad news. Anytime he started thinking of anyone short of Jacob Carter who had a snake with fondness, he had officially gone off the deep end.

And he'd go right on missing them, too, dammit. Because HE still had that life, which wasn't for Jon, and probably wouldn't ever be. He had years to go yet before he'd even be eligible to sign up for the Air Force again, and by then, well, who knew what the SGC would be like, if it even existed anymore? God knew Kinsey tried hard enough to get the SGC shut down often enough!

And here he was, in a sixteen year old body, stuck in hell. By his own doing, no less. He couldn't even begin to relate to anyone who was his physical age. It'd been too damn long since he'd been a teenager. He'd seen way the hell too much to fake it. Which meant he pretty much had no friends, though the girls seemed to like the whole 'mysterious loner' schtick. Which brought up the other problem. He felt like the world's biggest letch even thinking about romance of any sort with anyone his physical age ... not that he was exactly looking to get hitched anytime soon, or even wanted to, but it was another symptom of his very large problem. He might look sixteen, but as far as he was concerned, he was pushing fifty, and anything even remotely resembling 'romance' with anyone under the age of thirty just wasn't going to happen. And no one that age who was any kind of decent would want to hook up with an apparent sixteen year old.

He thumped his head against the back of the couch in frustration. The worst part of it was that he had an entire summer of pretty much nothing but isolation and boredom to look forward to. Maybe if he called his older half he'd get rescued and be able to hang around people he knew? Dammit, no, that was just pathetic. Not to mention awkward as hell. He'd spend the entire time glaring at the older half and muttering under his breath about getting his life stolen while his older half quietly freaked out about the mini-me. It would not end well.

He sighed and turned on the TV. Might as well get in the bored groove now, right?

June 7, LA

Finally, the doctor showed up, smiling a bit as the evidence of illicit food and drink was hurriedly swept away, but not quite fast enough for him to not see it. Given that Xander was being cut loose, he just pretended not to notice.

"All right, Xander." He said, setting down a folder with a bunch of papers in it. "Your at-home physical therapy sheet for the next few days, as well as a prescription for professional assistance is in here. Care instructions for the wounds are also included. There is also the name and number of a physician I know in Cascade who can oversee your return to fitness. I included a list of what you've been prescribed, and a copy of your medical chart, so you don't have to waste time with the back-and-forth of permissions and such that are involved in changing doctors." He handed over a small bag with several pill bottles in it. "Your medications. Please do not forget to take the antibiotics until they're all gone. The last thing you need is a nasty infection on top of all the other damage."

Xander patted the file and the bag. "Papers and pills, got it."

After that was the signing of papers and getting into a wheelchair, which proved to be all sorts of fun, but eventually the deed was done and the whole group rolled on out of there.

Jim had traded in the rental car for a van with a good-sized seat for the ride to the train station, since seat belts were a huge no. The seat would allow Xander to lie down and not worry overmuch. With a bit of help from Jim, he got into the van and then Willow and Buffy crowded in, saying their (highly temporary) goodbyes.

Willow rested her cheek on his shoulder in lieu of a hug. "You call, mister!" She demanded. "And I'll come up as soon as you're settled, and we can spend some time together, right?"

Xander grinned at Willow. "Of course. I plan to let you drive Jim and Blair 'round the bend, since I'm a little off my form."

That got a grin from Willow before she let Buffy in. Buffy gave him a long, intense, speaking look. A look that said ... well, a hell of a lot of things she couldn't say in present company without inviting another stay in a psych ward. "I'll come visit too, before I head back for Sunnydale and the school year." She said after a moment. "And I'll call. Lots. You take care." And then, to Xander's everlasting amusement (and embarrassment) she swung on Jim. "And you ... you better be good to him, or I'll ... " Fortunately, she caught herself before uttering a typical Slayer-style threat. "I'll figure out something to do, and it totally will make your life hell, you got me?"

To his credit, Jim didn't laugh in Buffy's face, but then again, Xander mused, he might be able to pick up on the fact that while short, Buffy was definitely no pushover. "Trust me, Buffy. Hurting him is the last thing on my mind." Jim told her.

"See you, Giles. And I expect a call or two from you too." Xander proclaimed.

Giles looked startled for a moment, then vaguely pleased. "I shall make a note of it on my calendar, Xander." He reassured.

And then it was time to go. The seat had been pushed as far back as it would go and Blair, grinning good-naturedly, piled into the space between the front seats and Xander to help Xander scoot all the way back, and to provide assistance to keep Xander from rolling off the seat if brakes had to be slammed or corners turned hard. Jim put the wheelchair in the back, then walked around to the driver's seat and with a last set of waves that he could just see through the side window from his sprawled position, they were off.

The ride to the train station was quiet, but then they parked and Jim unloaded the wheelchair. Getting out of the van was nearly as much of an adventure as getting in, but eventually he managed it and they were on their way. Jim helped Xander get settled in an actual seat, which was surprisingly comfortable, for a bit as they waited for the train to get moving. Xander stared out the window and fought down a sudden fit of depression. He'd known Willow practically all his life, and a few week-or-two long vacations aside, they'd not been apart for more than a day in all that time ... and now here he was, looking at a summer that was going to be largely Willow-less, which sucked beyond the telling of it. Although at least he wasn't this badly injured and still trying to live at home. That would have ended so very, very badly.

"You ok?" Blair asked from the seat across from him. Damn, he must've been doing a sadface.

"Yeah. Just kind of sinking in that I'm going to be spending most of the summer away from Willow. We've not been apart all that much since we met."

Blair nodded quietly. "Yeah, that would definitely be a bummer. Still, she said she'd come up, and she'll be more than welcome, so at least it won't be the entire summer, right?"

"Yeah, you got a point there." Xander admitted.

Chapter Text

Misunderstandings and Mysteries

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. I have based Cascade's stats on Seattle's, since it was a stand-in for Seattle in the show anyway. Given Sunnydale exists to feed the Hellmouth and demons, forcing people to go there to get information makes sense, hence the scarcity of information on the internet.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

June 7-9, Cascade

It didn't take long on the train for Xander to realize he had a very real problem. At the hospital, he'd been able to deflect Jim and Blair (mostly Blair) with questions about Jim or Cascade. He'd been able to keep the details of his life pretty well quiet, other than his being friends with Willow and Buffy. They knew next to nothing.

And therein lay the problem. Blair was every bit as curious as Willow was, and probably more. And even if Jim wasn't dying of curiosity, he did have an interest in finding out about Xander. And there was only so long he'd be able to concentrate on the Pre-Buffy years before they wanted to know about her and Giles. Worst thing was, Blair hadn't said a word yet. Xander knew, however, his grace period was more or less over. He could see it in Blair's expression.

"Thinking laying down again would be a good idea." Xander said, grateful for the fact that his body was really not up to extended stays in the land of horizontalness, even if it usually irked him. Ok, it normally annoyed the hell out of him. He kind of hated this. Ok, more than kind of, and the quicker he was back to normal, the better. Jim helped him back into the sleeping car and he sprawled on the narrow bed with a grateful sigh.

"It'll get better, Xander." Jim said, evidently having spotted Xander's less than happy expression.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. In the meantime, it royally sucks." Xander said with a grimace.

"Yeah, I know. Been there, burned the T-shirt." Jim said.

Xander gave an amused snort. "And that is so a good reason for me to never sign up. I really don't need to get torn to bits on a regular basis." And yeah, that was irony, given how he's spent most of the last year. Sheeze.

"Kind of attached to being all in one piece, huh?"

"You could say that." Boy, could he ever, Xander thought. And again with the irony. And Jim giving him a funny look. "I mean, I got nothing against anybody that signs up ... it's a job that's got to be done, you know? It's just not my idea of a good time." His idea of a 'good time' ran to dusting as many vamps as humanly possible while still staying in one piece. Ok, so, mostly hiding behind Buffy while she did the dusting, but hey. Oh, and annoying the life ... err, unlife ... out of Angel while simultaneously being weirded out by the whole souled-vamp thing, because whoah. Bullying him into doing the right thing also rated high on the amusement meter, though thinking of that made him give a slightly irritated snort both for Angel and for Giles, but Angel got most of it, because talk about patheticsville. Giles at least tried, and pretty much had to be stopped via a conk to the head. Angel had just essentially curled up in a corner and started the funeral early. Gah.

""I'll check on you in a couple of hours." Jim told Xander. Xander nodded and faked sleep. Jim headed back out to Blair. "Definitely hiding something. He's faking wanting to sleep to avoid us."

"Man, Jim, this is driving me nuts. What the hell's going on?" Blair said, sounding slightly exasperated, intensely curious, and more than a bit frustrated.

"Dunno, Chief, but I intend to find out when we get back to Cascade. See what Simon can dig up on the lot of them."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just ... "

"Driving you crazy?" Jim finished, with no small amount of amusement.

"Yeah, it is. Something's going on and I want to know what."

"Might be covering for abuse." Jim practically growled. "As bad as Jessica was ... "

Blair grimaced. "Yeah, that could be part of the problem, but it doesn't answer why he's not ... " Blair trailed off and his eyes went wide as an idea occurred to him. "Oh shit. Jim ... what if the people that grabbed him were buddies of Jessica or her husband?"

Jim's expression went murderous. "If they were, I'm going to do some Army interrogation practice on them."

And that would be code for 'break their bones and generally make them wish they'd never been born, Jim Ellison style'. Blair thought. Having seen glimpses of the vicious, ruthless Ranger and Sentinel that hid under the grumpy cop, Blair did not envy anyone that earned Jim's wrath.

"Unfortunately, while it makes a bit of sense." Jim continued. Victims sometimes refused to speak when they knew their attackers, or knew that the attack had been 'called in' by someone they knew. The fear of worse happening was very real, and happened often enough that while keeping their silence annoyed Jim to no end, he understood the mentality that encouraged it. "But not all the pieces fit. Take and terrorize? Yeah. Kill? Especially the way it was attempted, not so much. Those were no knife wounds, Chief. They looked more they'd been done by claws. Damn big ones, too. And it doesn't answer what the other three are hiding, unless they all know about the abuse and are hiding it." Jim sighed. "But even that doesn't explain Willow freaking out about Xander seeing a hyena." It just did not add up. And it was frustrating the holy hell out of Jim.

It was also baffling Blair. There were so many inconsistencies. So much unspoken subtext. He mentally reviewed what he'd seen, mulling it over for the umpteenth time, trying to make sense of the clues with what little context they had. Unfortunately, he just couldn't. There was too much missing.

Despite not being tired when he'd 'run for cover' Xander did fall asleep. His strength and stamina were nil, and combined with the rocking of the train, it took all of about five minutes for him to fall asleep.

Xander never did get to see much of the scenery on the ride. He spent most of it sleeping. Eventually, the train stopped in Seattle, and from there it was an hour's ride to Cascade in another van. Given that seat belts were still a huge no, Xander got a very cockeyed and limited look at Cascade from flat on his back on the seat. Mostly a lot of rooftops. It was rather depressing that he ended up sleeping almost an entire day after arriving, he was so worn out by the travel.

The loft was fair-sized but a touch on the crowded side with the addition of the futon for him to sleep (and sit) on. Fortunately, it was a straight, fairly short shot to the can. Xander eyed the distance off and decided he just might be able to make the distance under his own power sometime next year, at this rate. It also had a very odd-couple feel to it. Most of the main room was very plain and utilitarian, but there was stuff here and there, mostly little things, that just didn't match the rest that was probably from Blair, given what he'd said about moving in after his old place blew up. And if that wasn't a Sunnydale-style story, Xander didn't know what it was. Oh, he was fairly sure demons were not involved, but an apartment blowing up was the sort of thing you expected to hear in good old Sunnydale.

One of the first things that Xander noticed, once he was awake enough, was that Cascade 'felt' different than Sunnydale ever had. Even before he'd known the truth, the 'dale had been a dangerous place. Only the foolhardy or the stupid went out after dark, even if they didn't know exactly why. The town 'felt' dangerous, for lack of a better way to put it. Cascade, on the other hand, well, didn't. Oh, Xander was sure it was no utopia, but it didn't reek of danger and violence. If he needed any more proof of the place being a demon-free zone, the fact they had four cemeteries more than Sunnydale for a population about ten times larger than Sunnydale's kind of sold it. And was very reassuring, though it would make obtaining necessary goodies trickier. And he was betting none of the schools had obituary columns in their papers. Wait ... why was he worrying about getting necessary goodies again? He was so not going to be able to fight off a dustbunny, nevermind a vamp or demon in the condition he was in! Xander shook his head at himself.

Jim was putting things in boxes (which made Xander feel bad, because he knew they were moving to accommodate him) while Blair was puttering around in the kitchen making something that was making Xander's stomach snarl like he hadn't eaten in months.

"Man, Blair, whatever that is, it smells really good." Xander said, which made Blair laugh for some reason.

"Man, finally. Someone who appreciates good cooking." Blair said.

"Watch it, Chief, or I'll make you eat WonderBurgers for a month." Jim shot back.

"Oh, no way man. Those things are heart attacks on greasy buns." Blair complained.

Xander cocked his head slightly. "You guys have a Doublemeat Palace around here?"

"No." Jim told him.

"This WonderBurger place any good?"

"Yeah." Jim said with a grin.

"Definitely going to have to give them a try later then. I can't go too long without my greasy, fatty goodness. Or my sugary goodness." Xander said.

"Oh man. He is definitely your kid Jim. Same eating habits. You're both going to eat yourselves into early graves." Blair complained.

Xander nearly choked on a laugh. Yeah. He was so not worried about eating himself into high cholesterol and dying of a heart attack. At least not a heart attack from that source, anyway. Heart attack from sheer fear was definitely still an option. "Hey, I'm a teenager." He complained. "There is no such thing as enough to eat."

That got a laugh out of both Jim and Blair. "Yeah, I definitely remember those days." Jim agreed. "You play any sports?"

"Does running and hiding from bullies count? 'cause otherwise, no. I'm not really into the sports thing." Xander said, making an apologetic face. "I'm not exactly the biggest brain in school, either, for that matter." Yeah. Only a matter of time before Jim tossed him back where he came from at this rate.

The next twenty-four hours had Xander half-convinced his father was gay. It hadn't been real obvious (especially to someone doped to the gills) at the hospital, but Jim and Blair were almost constantly in each other's space. Giving each other these looks that Xander couldn't quite interpret and really, he kinda didn't want to, or worse, touching. Oh, nothing that was a blatant PDA, but definitely more touchy-feely than any two other guys Xander had ever seen. Plus, that whole 'move in with me 'cause your place blew up' story was ... really thin. It really didn't help that it was the sort of thing that would happen to him. Neat. Got a good dad. Something normal! Except ... not. 'cause he's, you know, into guys. And the thought of that was more than a bit disconcerting.

The only thing that sounded any kind of false note was the fact that Blair most definitely had 'his' space. With a bed just for him. Granted, it was behind a curtain, but it was there. Not that Xander was going to actually ask. Oh no. That way lay badness, if he was wrong. Most straight guys answered 'are you gay' with a punch to the face, and given that Jim was an ex-Ranger and a cop ... yeah. That way lay much badness and a pulped Xander. Considering that he was already rather a bit pulped, Xander was going to opt for the not-asking option.

June 7-9 Sunnydale

Willow was very, very busy on her computer, digging up everything she could find on Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison. So far, they both seemed to be really good people. Mr. Ellison'd been in the Army quite a while, made it to Captain, had a lot of decorations. He'd also evidently been double-crossed by a higher-up and his entire team killed in Peru, but he still managed to do what he and his team had been sent there to do. She found all sorts of articles about that. It'd been a really big deal, back in '88. Mr. Ellison also seemed to be the eldest son of a fairly well-to-do businessman. Blair Sandburg, she had discovered, was something of a perpetual student, and really really smart. He'd been in college (or on digs) since he was sixteen. Specialized in anthropology. Neither man was really at all remarkable in a bad way. It made her feel a good deal better. She'd tell Xander all about it when she headed up there next week.

June 3-9, Cascade PD

The search Rafe was doing for Jim (as a favor) did not return the same reassuring information. It returned yet more of a mystery. A British national who more or less defined the concept of 'overqualified' for his existing job, given that he'd been working with the British Museum at one point. What he was doing in Sunnydale as a librarian was anyone's guess. Similarly, Buffy Summers' history was less than comforting, at least the recent history.

What stressed Rafe out was that there was absolutely nothing about Willow or Xander anywhere on the 'net. Or much of anything about Sunnydale, for that matter. There was a very generic website that touted Sunnydale's pleasant weather and proximity to the ocean and generally encouraged people to come and check the place out, but there was no real, hard data. No census, nothing with any detail at all. Evidently, to find out what he wanted to know, he'd have to go to Sunnydale in person. And that was just plain odd. If Sunnydale was some dinky hick town of a couple thousand, he could understand it, but they boasted a population around 40 thousand, more than big enough to be noticed in official government tallies of various sorts.

So he didn't have much by way of comfort for Jim when Jim stopped by late in the day to check in at the precinct. Jim had glowered at the information Rafe had been able to dig up.

"So we've got a horrendously overqualified librarian, a major troublemaker teen girl, and a massive mystery in the persons of Willow and Xander, and Sunnydale in general? What the hell is going on?" This was just adding to the questions he had, and tempting him to just cut the bullshit, sit Xander down and demand answers, but doing that would completely screw up any chance he had at a halfway amiable relationship with the kid, even he knew that!

Chapter Text

Partial Truths

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 13-16, Cascade

Relative peace reigned for all of twenty-four hours after Rafe gave Jim what information he had been able to get on the various people in Xander's life. Then there was a nasty murder and for the next three days Jim and Blair were running themselves into the ground trying to solve the murder and catch the killer, on very little admissible evidence, which meant Jim was pushing his senses as hard and as far as he could. Worse, Blair was stretched paper-thin with trying to be with Jim during investigations and interrogations and keeping an eye on Xander, who couldn't fend for himself yet.

The results were inevitable. Late in the evening on the third day, an exhausted Jim more or less stumbled into the apartment and headed for the kitchen to get something to eat. Unfortunately, as exhausted as he was, the gleam and glitter of light on metal caught his attention and he zoned. Blair had collapsed an hour previously in his room, having come home early to help Xander, and Xander had been asleep until Jim arrived. Still mostly asleep, it took him a bit to realize that Jim had stopped dead in his tracks and wasn't moving.

"Jim?" He called. Nothing. "Jim?" Louder now. "JIM!" Still nothing. Crap. What the hell? Xander's first worry was some sort of Hellmouth-style possession or something of that stripe, even though they were a long, long way from the Hellmouth. "Blair! Get out here! Something's wrong with Jim!" Xander yelled. He was rather surprised at just how fast Blair responded to that yell.

Blair catapulted out of his room within moments of Xander's call, still clearly mostly asleep, at least until he got a good look at Jim, whereupon he cursed softly and hustled over, squeezing his body between Jim and the door frame so that he was between Jim and the kitchen, one hand rubbing up and down Jim's arm while he spoke softly, trying to break Jim out of the zone. Xander couldn't hear what Blair was saying, but the quietly worried tone was plain. After a few moments, Jim twitched, then gave his head an almost violent shake before looking down at Blair.

"Z - Dozed off, didn't I?" He asked, shooting a glance in Xander's direction as he spoke.

Blair nodded. "I'm calling the station. You need ... "

"No can do, Chief, you know that. Especially not in the middle of a case." Jim grumped.

Blair sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but if you're ... falling asleep on your feet ... you need a break."

Jim just looked mulish, turned away from the kitchen and headed up the stairs to his room.

Xander watched the whole thing in quiet confusion. What the heck had that been about? That had been more than just dozing off standing up. Xander ought to know, he'd been there a few times in the last few months, so tired from chasing vamps (or being chased by them, more like) and school he couldn't see straight. A seizure, maybe? Was Jim a mild epileptic or something? Possible, possible. He'd have to see what Willow discovered when she came up in the next couple of days ... though he might have to call her and tell her to wait a few days if this kept up. Neither Jim nor Blair was in any condition to deal with another guest at the moment. He decided discretion was the better part of valor and let the two of them head to their separate beds. At least the whole gay thing was debunked ... whatever the heck was going on, it was clear that Blair was not here for the sex, and could Xander just say he was so very, very, painfully glad? That would have been more awkward than he had words for. Still mulling over the possibilities, he fell asleep.

Jim and Blair got home early on Day Four, Jim looking quietly pleased (if exhausted) and Blair bouncing a good three inches off the ground with every step, exhaustion be damned, and a big grin on his face. Xander couldn't help but grin back at him. "Got the bad guy, huh?"

"Totally. He'd holed up at the docks." Blair confirmed. "Took two hours to get him out of there, but we got him."

"Cool. Should I have Willow wait until next week? You two look pretty shattered after the last few days." Xander wanted to know.

Jim shook his head. "No. We'll be fine. A day's sleep and we'll both be good as new."

"Long's you're sure."

Jim snorted. "This is far from the first time I've had to run myself ragged for a long period, Xander, and Blair's pretty used to it too, though usually for different reasons. We'll be fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Xander so wasn't going to argue. He missed Willow something fierce.

The next day was very quiet, what with Jim and Blair sleeping well into the morning and then rumbling around the loft. The next day, though, was Willow's arrival. Jim took off to pick her up at the airport, since travel was still a pain in the ass for Xander.

She bounced into the loft grinning like a madwoman and flung herself at Xander. "Xander!" Despite the fling, Willow was very careful to be exceedingly gentle with the hug, and kept it mostly around the neck, rather than trying to hug his very ouchy middle. Xander wrapped his arms around her and was pleased that he was able to squeeze enough for it to register as a hug, if only barely, thanks to the splints.

"Hey Willow. Man, I missed you." He mumbled into her hair before pulling away a bit to get a good look at her face. "So, what has the life of Willow been like the last week?"

Willow pouted. "Boring. It's just me and Giles and it's really not fun. Cordelia's being a pain, but then, that's not really news, right?"

Xander laughed. "Definitely not." He agreed. Jim and Blair decided to head out for some takeaway for dinner. Jim was also hoping like hell that Xander and Willow would start talking once he and Blair were gone.

Once they were gone, Xander looked over at Willow. "Ok, girlie, you're bouncing out of your seat. Tell!" He mock-commanded.

Down in the lobby, Jim pulled Blair aside and they tucked themselves into an out of the way spot while Jim eavesdropped shamelessly. He gave Blair a tight grin and a thumbs up. Blair was torn between unease at eavesdropping and a burning desire to figure out what the heck the deal was with Xander.

"Well, they're actually really good people, Xander." Willow said. "I mean, I couldn't find anything really negative about either of them. Blair and his mom seem to have been gypsies, well, sort of anyway. They've been all over, and he's really, really smart. He started college at sixteen! And Jim's an Army Ranger. Or, well, was, anyway. He's got lots and lots of decorations, and about eight years ago or so he got double-crossed by some dirty superior, and his entire team got killed in a helicopter crash, but he still managed to carry out the mission he'd been sent to do, with just him and a bunch of jungle tribesmen."

Xander gave an impressed whistle. "Damn. Remind me never to sign up, right?" He said.

"Yeah, no kidding. I really wouldn't want to have been him. That was more than a little harsh." Willow agreed. "And after he finally got rescued, he quit, then became a cop, and he's been here ever since. He used to work for Vice, but then got transferred to the Major Crimes squad. And then last year Blair popped up, started riding with him for his thesis, and it's been that way since."

Xander nodded. In a lot of ways, it made him feel better. Made it less likely that whatever the hell was going on was something sinister. "Well, Cascade's definitely got either no or next to no demonic crap going on. But something's definitely going on with Jim. I think he might have epilepsy or something. He sort of froze up like someone'd hit his off switch the other day, and oh hell, I really hope he's not a robot."

Willow laughed. "Xander, I don't think he can be a robot if he's your dad, you know?"

"But, but, the real Jim could have been replaced ... " Xander offered. "It would totally be the sort of thing that would happen to me. I mean, heck, after the last year?"

Willow made a face as she nodded her agreement. Weird stuff definitely was their stock in trade at this point. "Anyway, that's what I could find on him. Oh, and his dad's some rich business guy, but they pretty much ignore each others' existence. And he has a little brother, too."

Xander wrinkled his nose. "Ahhh, so the sucky relationships thing is inherited, huh? Oh well. Any word on the gorilla demons?"

"Giles found them a couple days ago, in a really, really old book. They're lower demons, basically used as muscle by the ones that don't want to get their hands dirty."

Xander grimaced. "And no idea who they may have been working for."

"Giles thinks they were working for the Master, and just clearing out now that he's, you know, all dusty. Well, mostly anyway." Willow offered.

"That makes sense. Anything on the hyena?"

"Not a thing." Willow said regretfully. "Everything Giles has found says he did the exorcism right and there shouldn't be any lingering traces or anything, so he's kind of stuck on why you saw it."

"Damn." Xander sighed. "Well, there goes that. At least I haven't seen it again since that one time. Maybe it was just the pain meds? They do say that people can have very trippy reactions."

"Maybe." Willow agreed tentatively. "So how've things been here?"

"Pretty good. Quiet mostly, at least for me. Jim and Blair had to deal with a nasty murder case. That's what led to Jim's seizure or whatever it was, I think. They had kind of been running themselves ragged for several days with next to no sleep. They finally got the bastard, though."

"That's good!" Willow said.

Jim, realizing nothing more was going to be said on the subject of Xander's attack, his past (or, to his consternation, himself) pulled Blair out to the truck and told him what he'd overheard.

"Demons, Jim?" Blair echoed. "And a girl who either can hack like crazy or knows someone who can, to pick up that much information on both of us. Damn. I knew he'd noticed you zoning. I've actually been waiting for him to comment on it somehow, but he's been keeping remarkably quiet."

"This may be why." Jim grumbled. "He has his own secrets and isn't in a mood to share. Dammit, Blair, what the hell is going on in that town?"

"I don't know, Jim, and from what you told me, finding out's going to be an exercise in futility if we try to drag stuff out of the internet." Blair said. "We need to go the direct route."

"Ask him." Jim agreed. "Right, let's get some Chinese and then deal with this."

They returned to the loft about a half hour later, laden with fragrant bags of food. "Hey you two. Hope you're hungry. We didn't know what Willow might like so we got a bit of everything." Blair said.

Xander and Willow both grinned. "Chinese is good." Xander agreed. "Not quite as good as pizza, but definitely up there in the food stakes."

For quite a while, there was nothing except the munching of food, but finally, the cartons were either empty or stashed in the fridge (in their own tupperware containers, thank you. Jim did not tolerate things lying uncontained in his fridge). Jim sat back in his chair, with Blair plopping down on the couch.

"So, ask already." Xander said, startling both men. Willow blinked a bit but grinned at Jim and Blair's startlement.

"Wha? You ... " Blair sputtered.

"You two kept sneaking looks at me and Willow all through dinner." Xander pointed out. "Plus, you've been giving me sideways looks whenever you weren't dead tired from chasing bad guys. So ask. But keep in mind, I will be wanting to ask my own questions later. And I totally, totally disclaim all responsibility if what you learn freaks you out. If you even believe me, that is."

Jim mentally shrugged and decided to dive into the deep end. "So. Demons?" He asked.

That startled Xander in his own turn. "How ... nevermind. I'll ask later. Yes, demons. And before you give me shit, remember, you asked. Basically, all the monsters under the bed you read about in horror stories? They're real. And more besides. And Sunnydale is sort of their hometown." Ok, so that wasn't quite the way it went, but it was close enough, and Xander wasn't about to dish on Buffy unless he got her permission to. He shot a glance at Willow, who reached over and gripped his hand.

Blair looked like he very much wanted to bounce off his seat. "Demons are real? Well, I guess it makes sense. Lots of tribes have tales ... " He started.

Jim interrupted him. "Chief ... demons aren't real." Xander certainly believed what he was saying, since he wasn't giving off any of the physical cues that he was lying, but that didn't mean much. There were people out there, after all, that sincerely believed they'd been abducted by aliens.

"Actually, they so are. I can even introduce you to one who's not out to eat people ... at least not anymore ... if you're willing to take a road trip to Sunnydale once I heal up a bit more." Xander insisted. Part of him was highly amused at the thought of using Angel as a 'show and tell' project. So he was petty and easily amused, sue him! Angel just bugged the shit out of him. Ok, be truthful. Vampires in general pissed him off.

Jim, who'd caught Xander's hesitation earlier, frowned now. "I think that attack hit you harder ... " He started.

"Oh no. Hell no. I am not crazy." Xander said. "Look, vampires are real. Demons are real. They like to munch on people and they tend to be attracted to Sunnydale in droves. That's how I ended up in LA."

Willow nodded fervently. "They really do exist. Xander got jumped by ... hang on, I have a copy of the picture of what attacked Xander in my suitcase." She hurried over to the case and rummaged through it, finally pulling something out with a triumphant noise. "Here it is. Giles had me make a copy to show to Xander to make sure we found the right demon that grabbed him."

She showed the copy of the picture to Xander, who immediately went pale. "Yeah." He said, voice strained. "That's them."

Jim immediately snatched the picture out of Willow's hand, ignoring her outraged "Hey!". Xander's distress at the picture had been very real. He stare down at the picture in something like confusion. Whatever the hell it was, it looked like a cross between a crocodile and a gorilla.

"What the hell is this thing?" He demanded.

"Demon." Xander said, his tone conveying 'duh!' rather clearly. "You get a name for it from Giles, Willow?"

"He said it was something called a Yigint." Willow informed him. "They're sort of demon enforcers, I guess. Muscle-men."

Jim had the picture snatched out of his grasp in turn by Blair, who studied it. While bouncing in place on the couch. "Oh man, this is so ... I mean, there are no words ... how ... I ... shit, I don't even know where to start! Wait, you said you could introduce us to a demon? Who?"

"His name is Angel." Willow supplied. "He's a vampire. Normally vampires are really bad news, but about a hundred years ago, Angel pissed off a bunch of gypsies and they cursed him to have a soul. Ever since then, he's stopped eating people and has been trying to make up for all the bad he did."

Xander made a face. "I really don't like him. He's a broody, sneaky, lying, cowardly son of a bitch, but he has his uses, I suppose."

"Xander!" Willow scolded.

"Willow, he claims to love Buffy like nobody's business, but I had to force him at stake and cross-point to actually, you know, DO something about her being in danger. Giles at least tried, until Buffy conked him over the head. And how long did he lie to her about what he really was? She likes him, so I won't, you know, forcibly try to break them up, even if I think she's completely insane for wanting to get busy with a dead body, but there is no force on this planet that will ever make me like him." Xander glowered and wished he could cross his arms, but that didn't work so well with the splints.

"Wait, Buffy's life was in danger?" Blair asked.

"Yeah. There was a big-time vamp that wanted her dead. Had everybody more than slightly freaked out." Xander said. "Giles was going to try to do something about it, but Buffy was all 'I have to fix this myself' and conked him on the head. When I found out, well ... " Xander shrugged. "I knew I couldn't save her by myself, so I went to Angel. He'd heard about the other vamp wanting to eat Buffy and pretty much locked himself in his room to have a brood-fit about it and mourn her death way prematurely. I kind of had to get in his face to kick his ass into gear."

Jim eyed Xander. There was a lot more to that story than Xander was telling, but what exactly the missing information was, he couldn't even begin to guess. "So how in the name of hell did you even get involved in this shit?" He demanded, giving up on the hope that this was some sort of delusion. Not with Willow backing him up.

Xander's face tightened. "I used to have two best friends." He said quietly. Willow bit her lip and tightened her grip on his hand, looking down to hide the tears that thinking of Jesse brought on. "The other one was named Jesse. Like with Willow, we knew each other from the time we were really little. He got grabbed earlier this year. And vamped. And ... " Xander choked for a minute. "I was the one that staked him. After that ... I just couldn't play blind anymore. Neither could Willow."

"It got personal." Jim said, understanding that sentiment. Keeping the Chopec safe had become rather painfully personal for him after the crash. "Dammit, Xander, you're just kids. This shouldn't be your fight!"

"Who the heck else is going to do it?" Xander wanted to know. "Practically the entirety of Sunnydale pretends there's nothing going on. But our school newspaper has an obituary section, we have almost as many cemeteries as Cascade, and probably as many churches, though I didn't check that."

"You ... checked for demon activity here?" Jim sputtered.

"Yeah. If Sunnydale's anything to go by, the ratio of cemeteries to people is a real good indicator of whether or not things are going to hell ... literally. Cascade seems to be fine." Xander said, then sighed. That was as much as he was comfortable telling them. Neither one was quite ready for apocalypse talk, and Slayers were off the chat menu until he could see if Buffy was ok with it. "So ... seizures?"

Jim grimaced, wanting to know more, but allowed the subject change. "No, not really seizures." He grumbled. "My senses are really enhanced, and before you even ask, I'm human. Sometimes, they get out of control, and I freeze up." Overly simplified explanation, that, but Jim wasn't really in a mood to explain in greater detail.

Blair, though, was. "Jim is what's called a Sentinel. They used to exist a long time ago, when people still lived in tribes all the time, and served as a ... " Abruptly, he cut off, eyes going wide. " ... sentry ... Jim? I think I just figured out what else the Sentinels protected their tribes from, other than wild animals and really nasty weather."

Jim glowered at Blair, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that if demons were real, having a sentry who could spot them before they got close enough to snack on the tribe would probably have been a damn good thing.

On the couch, Willow seemed to be on the same page as Blair, giving Xander a significant look. Hell, for that matter, even Xander was on that page. It made a weird sort of sense. After all, there was only ever one Slayer at a time. No matter how badass she was, there was only so much she could do at any given time. Having an early-warning system in place so tribes could mount an effective defense made a ton of sense. The only question was if the whole Sentinel thing was another 'magicked into existence' thing or nature trying to find a solution to a damn big problem.

"Oh man. You so have got to talk to Giles. He's our go-to-guy when it comes to demons." Xander said, Willow nodding her enthusiastic agreement. "He might be able to confirm whether or not you've got the right of it."

"It would help explain why Sentinels seemed to die out, too." Blair said, thinking out loud. "Clearly, at some point, the overall danger lessened to the point where the sentries weren't needed, so the trait went underground, basically."

"Makes sense to me." Xander offered. "But then, I was never all that good in school."

Willow glowered at him. "Xander Harris, you take that back!"

Xander grinned. "Willow, we both know that the only reason I've made it this far in school is because you help me out."

Willow blushed, but shook her head. "You're not dumb, mister, and I won't have you saying that about yourself! Or have you forgotten that talk we had?" She wanted to know.

Xander grinned, even as he leaned his head briefly on her shoulder by way of a hug. "Thanks, Wills."

"Wait." Jim said. "Giles is your go-to-guy when it comes to demons?"

Xander nodded. "He's studied them for a long time. And fought them. He's got a whole bunch of books about demons of various sorts, written by folks that found out about demons. And in a couple cases, written by the demons themselves."

Blair looked like he wanted nothing more than to track Giles and his library down, bouncing to the point that Jim reached over and clamped a hand on the nearest shoulder, holding Blair down by main force. "Chief, you're starting to make me think there's an earthquake."

Blair gave Jim an abashed grin and tried to settle. "Sorry, big guy."

Chapter Text

Arrangements Are Made

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 16, Colorado Springs

It had been a long, painfully quiet and deadly boring week for Jon O'Neill. He'd ignored his summer homework. God, homework. At his age ... dammit! ... he was really starting to hate being in a sixteen year old body. Oh, who was he kidding? Starting? He'd started the moment he'd realized he was a Goa'uld-be-damned clone. Anyway, he'd ignored that in favor of vegging out in front of the TV with a (technically) illegal beer in hand. At least he was finally catching up on all the Simpsons episodes he'd missed while on missions. Not to mention hockey and football games. So there was a somewhat bright side to the mess. If you could call this a bright side. About the only truly good news that came with being in a younger body was the lack of truly sucky knees. It was nice to not feel like someone was jamming an icepick under his kneecaps. He'd already made due mental note to at least attempt to avoid all the messes that had resulted in his crappy knees the first go-round.

He'd been applying his funk in something close to true teenage fashion, eschewing light by keeping the curtains closed and light (other than the TV) to the minimum absolutely necessary. He'd surprised himself with how easily he was wandering around in the dark in the apartment. He wasn't as familiar with it as he was the house, after all. He sighed as he flopped down on the couch and flipped the television on. He cringed at the sudden blast of noise, hurriedly lowering the volume while snarking about commercials that seemed to think the only way to hawk their wares was to blow your eardrums out. He just hoped there was something halfway decent on. There was only so much soap operas a guy could take.

He never quite realized that it was past ten in the evening and the apartment was pitch-black except for the microwave's display before he turned the TV on ... and when he turned the TV down to a level he could tolerate, it was down to 5.

June 16, Cascade

Xander turned back to Jim and Blair. "So the whole Sentinel thing, somehow Blair can help you with it?" He asked. "'cause I have to say that for a while there, I was thinking you two were, you know ... " He suddenly blushed crimson and started babbling. "Ohshit pretend I didn't say that because I totally don't want to piss you guys off and I really was just thinking you were good buddies, honest!"

Blair actually laughed, though Jim looked somewhat less amused by the insinuation. "Relax, Xander." Blair told him. "Sentinels do have problems ... the freezing up, which is called zoning, and sensory spikes, where one or more senses suddenly jump in sensitivity. So they have a partner that works with them, called a guide."

"And you're it for Jim." Willow said, nodding. Then, she eyed Jim, and Xander, and then looked at Blair. "Blair? I mean, Xander is ... do you think maybe ... ?"

Blair grinned. "It's possible." He admitted. "Unfortunately, there are no records ... at least that I know of ... that indicate whether the senses are hereditary or just random chance. Xander does show a few signs of it being a possibility, though from what I've seen , he doesn't have the senses, yet?" That last came out as more of a question.

Xander shook his head firmly. "Nope, no enhanced senses for me." Well, except while he was possessed, and he so wasn't going into that.

Jim, unfortunately, caught the lie. "Xander? Did we forget to mention the senses make it pretty much impossible for anyone to lie around me?"

Xander got a mulish expression on his face. "It was a one time, one-day thing that totally had no bearing on ... well, pretty much anything normal, and I am so not going to go into it."

Jim and Blair exchanged significant looks, both looking more than a touch amused because Jim had firmly denied his senses for a very, very long time. Even after they'd cropped up this last time, he'd tried to pretend nothing was 'weird' for as long as he could.

"Definitely your kid, Jim." Blair said with a laugh. "Seriously, Xander ... did this jump in your senses happen after you were isolated or exposed to a period of sensory deprivation?"

"Nope." Xander said firmly.

"Nope." Willow echoed half a second behind. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind and shut her mouth firmly.

"So if that's your only evidence of me maybe being a Sentinel ... " Xander said, looking half-hopeful.

"Nope. You seem to have a good, solid dose of the protectiveness that comes along with being a Sentinel." Blair said. "And then there's the fact you saw your spirit animal."

Xander went dead pale, and Willow followed right behind, though she didn't get quite as pale. "What are you talking about?" Xander demanded, voice tight and edging into antagonistic.

Jim frowned. "Xander, why are you freaking out so badly? You did the same thing in the hospital. I readily admit seeing a spirit animal is more than a little strange, but you're half a step away from complete panic."

Blair piped up right behind him. "Spirit animals are a part of the Sentinel and Guide thing. We each have one. Jim's is a black jaguar, mine's a gray wolf. They appear in your dreams and sometimes in real life, to warn or guide you."

"This would be on the list of things that will never, ever, ever get discussed as long as I live, period. Ever." Xander said firmly. "And I don't care what the hell a spirit animal is, if mine's a freaking hyena, I so want a refund. They're evil and vicious and stinking rotten scavengers."

Jim and Blair shared a look at Xander's disgusted vehemence. Definitely a story there that they'd have to worm out of Xander. Later.

"Man, you really have it wrong. Hyenas are truly awesome animals." Blair said. "The smaller species might actually be mostly scavengers, but the spotted ... which is the one you have, is a totally different issue. Man, they stand up to lions. And in the spiritual sense, they're pretty impressive. They represent adaptability, patience, perseverance on the hunt, strength, defense of boundaries, and understanding the value of cooperation and community."

Jim blinked at Blair. "How in the hell do you know ... wait, nevermind, this is you we're talking about. How do you remember that?"

Blair just grinned over at Jim, not saying a word. Xander, for his part, did not look all that mollified. So hyenas were cool in the sense of spirit animals. It so did not change his opinion of them after essentially being one (all right, a demonic version of one, but still) and doing what he'd done under the influence. He could get behind most of what a hyena 'meant', if Blair had the right of it, but did it have to be a hyena? He so wanted no part of that!

"Right." Jim said after a moment, looking amused and exasperated at the same time. "It's you. Of course you remember. You scare me sometimes, chief."

Blair's grin widened. "Well, I will admit." He told Xander. "That it's not a given you're a Sentinel, even with Jim being your father. The spirit guide thing does mean you're one of the two, though, at least as far as I know, unless there's Native American blood in you somewhere, since they have a close relationship with spirit animals."

"Nope, not that I know of, but considering I didn't know Jim was my dad until last week, that's not saying a heck of a lot." Xander said. "Man, we so need to get Giles out here. He'll clean his glasses into oblivion."

"Clean his glasses?" Blair asked, confused.

"Yeah, it's this thing he does. Takes his glasses off and cleans them. A lot. Way a lot. I kinda think it's so he doesn't see the shenanigans we get up to, you know? He is kind of a stuffy Brit, but we're trying to cure him of that. Not too much success so far." Xander explained. "I think this one's going to have him scrubbing his lenses until they disappear."

"I could call him?" Willow offered.

"Might be a good idea." Xander admitted. "If for no other reason than to give him time to get stuff together to do the grand show-and-tell."

He smirked again at the mental visual of Angel being forced to play 'see, this is a demon. See the teeth? Avoid them.' He shot Willow a look, and she understood it. Buffy would need to be consulted as well, but given the whole super-hearing thing, that would have to wait until Willow went back to the 'dale, or she could manage to ask Giles in such a way that he understood to ask Buffy without Willow actually mentioning Slayers or special abilities.

"Besides, I think Blair would kill us if we tried to deny him Giles, from the expression he's had on his face." He finished with a grin that was mostly directed at Blair. Blair made no attempt to deny Xander's speculation, since he was fairly close to being completely correct.

"Mind if I use your phone?" Willow asked, grinning at Blair and Jim both.

"Go right ahead." Jim told her.

She bounced over to the phone and dialed. "Giles? Yeah, I made it fine, and Xander looks great. But we kind of need a favor. Mr. Ellison found out about, well, what attacked Xander." A long pause. "Yup. And could you maybe convince Angel to come? As proof? And talk to, well, you know who, and see if they're ok with us telling Mr. Ellison about you know what?"

Over on the couch, Xander snickered quietly and shook his head. Subtle, Willow. Real subtle.

There was a bit of silence, and then Willow nodded. "Ok, Giles. See you in two days then!" And she hung up.

"He bringing Angel?" Xander wanted to know.

"It's going to depend on whether or not Giles can manage to arrange transportation for him." Willow said. "Since he kinda has sunlight issues."

Xander nodded. "Yeah. And we're going to have to figure out somewhere to meet other than here, 'cause I don't think Jim's going to want to ... oh hell, that reminds me!" He turned to Jim and Blair. "Never, ever, ever invite someone in, especially if they show up at night. Just stand aside. Vamps can't come into homes unless they've got an invite."

Blair's eyebrows went up. "They can't come in? How does that work?" He wanted to know.

Xander shrugged. "I dunno. Giles might, though." He told Blair.

"We could just meet up at a hotel." Willow offered. "I mean, Giles will have to stay at one anyway, so we can just go there for the whole talk thing."

Xander nodded agreement. "Yeah, that would probably work best." He agreed. "So, have we hit on everything? Vamps and demons are real, and we can prove it. Sentinels with really enhanced senses are real, and have buddies called guides ... and then the spirit animals thing." He made a face. "Think that hits all the main points, right?"

"Sounds about right, Xander." Blair agreed.

June 16, Sunnydale

Giles regarded the phone for a long moment after hanging up. "Whatever has that boy gotten himself into now?" He wondered ruefully. "He certainly seems to be a magnet for trouble." He sighed and took his glasses off to clean them. "I suppose I must see if Angel will be willing to serve as an exemplar, and then see about transportation." He put his glasses back on. "I do hope Xander manages to stay out of trouble." He doubted it, but he could hope.

He'd become rather fond of the boy over the last year. All of them, actually. The Council would be properly horrified, of course, since Watchers were supposed to remain emotionally detached from their Slayers ... not to mention that it was supposed to be a Watcher and their Slayer, not a Watcher, their Slayer, and a backup team.

He picked up the phone to call Buffy. "Buffy? It's Giles. I've just heard from Willow. She arrived safely and Xander seems to be doing well, but somehow or other the subject of demons came up, and they've asked me to come talk to Mr. Ellison and Mr. Sandburg. I also believe Willow wanted me to ask you about whether you'd be ok with ... " He cut off with a grimace. "I see. Then I shall not bring up the identity of the current Slayer, when that part of the discussion occurs." Honestly, he didn't really mind. Secrecy was a Slayer's greatest weapon, allowing her to operate without officious interference from fools who didn't know what they were dealing with. "I'll be heading up there in the next couple of days, to give them an overview, as I have little doubt that Xander and Willow have only given them the barest of explanations. I don't blame them particularly, as people tend not to believe without some sort of proof. I shall call you from Cascade with an update on Xander. Farewell, Buffy." And he hung up.

Now for the unpleasant part of the problem. Giles grabbed a cross and some holy water (no, he didn't entirely trust Angel, Buffy's attachment to him aside), and, after a check on the sky, and noting he had about a half hour to get to Angel's hideaway, headed out to his car. He was not looking forward to this.

Really, it was ridiculous how complicated things had become since his assignment as Buffy's Watcher. But at the same time, he wouldn't trade any of it for all the money in the world.

Chapter Text

Vampires and Sentinels

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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June 17, Cascade

Giles called Jim (well, technically, Xander and Willow, but it was Jim's phone) to let them know he'd succeeded in conn ... er, convincing ... Angel to come to Cascade.

"Do I even want to know what you told him to get him to come, Giles?" Xander wanted to know, trying very hard not to snicker. "Since we both know he'd refuse to come just for show and tell?"

"I may have hinted that the creatures that attacked you headed that way, and that if he wanted to prevent Buffy from going on a three-state rampage, he might wish to go with me to deal with them." Giles admitted. "Given the state of mind she was in when she learned of your disappearance, it was very easy to convince him it was the truth."

"Especially since it probably would be." Xander admitted. Buffy tended to get a wee bit on the grumpy side when he or Willow was threatened. Granted, she had tried to get them to stay on the sidelines a lot too, especially at first, but she finally got the hint that that wasn't going to happen, and had settled for beating the hell out of anything that messed with them.

"Quite. We shall be arriving tomorrow evening, and have already made reservations at a hotel." Giles then rattled off the relevant information.

"Cool. See you tomorrow night then, Giles." Xander said as he copied the information down. Then he handed the phone over to Willow, who said a quick goodbye, and then they hung up.

"Three state rampage?" Jim asked.

Xander grimaced. "Let's just say Buffy really doesn't like it when her friends get messed with and leave it at that, right?" Which, thank god, wasn't a lie. Fortunately, Jim seemed to be willing to let sleeping dogs lie, at least for the moment, and they went on with their day.

June 18, Cascade

The next evening, they all piled into Jim's truck (Xander was doing well enough that as long as they didn't get into a crash, a loose seatbelt wouldn't hurt him) and headed for the hotel Giles and Angel had decided to stay at. Xander grumbled mentally about Angel seeing him in a wheelchair, but the brutal facts were that he just wasn't up for a walk that long, and wouldn't be for a while. Oh well, he had the whole 'Angel as show and tell' thing to cheer him up.

Jim started feeling twitchy and grumpier than normal pretty much the minute they walked into the hotel, but couldn't for the life of him figure out why. The ride up the elevator just saw him getting worse, jaw clenching, shoulders tensing, one hand dangling down by his gun as he glared at the smooth metal doors. It got bad enough that Xander and Willow both were blatantly staring at him. Finally, Blair broke the uneasy silence.

"Jim?" Blair asked quietly.

Jim just shook his head, unable to articulate what was bothering him. Something was just ... off. Wrong. And as they piled out of the elevator on the floor Giles was waiting for them on, the tension and 'wrongness' just kept getting worse.

The hotel room door opened, exposing two men, one shorter and visibly older, the other tall and broad and dark-haired. Which observation was about as far as Jim got before instinct overtook reason. He let out a noise that was remarkably close to a pissed-vamp roar, grabbed Xander's wheelchair and shoved it (and Blair) behind him. Then he lunged straight at Angel, completely forgetting the gun he was packing in favor of an immediate attempt to kill something every instinct he adamantly insisted he didn't have saw as a threat.

Not that Angel was reacting any better. He vamped out and met Jim's attack, and for a minute there, Xander was terrified that Jim was going to get pounded into mush. Thanks be, Giles kept a level head. He pulled a stake from god-knows-where, grabbed Angel by the collar of his coat, and pressed the stake against Angel's back over his chest. Angel froze instantly, allowing Giles to forcibly haul him away from Jim.

That allowed Blair to get to Jim, and Jim grabbed him and hauled him well away from Angel, where the two had a hush-voiced conference. While Xander and Willow traded stunned looks, Blair and Jim had a hushed conference. After about five minutes, Jim managed to calm down.

Angel seemed to have got control of himself as well, and the two men shared wary, distrustful looks.

Giles looked both pissed and pained, finally warily releasing his hold on Angel, though he kept the stake in hand. "Perhaps we should get this over with, before we garner more attention than we want." He advised. "Can the two of you control yourselves in close quarters, or shall we remove ourselves to different environs?"

Jim took a deep breath. "I'm fine." He growled. The fact he'd put himself between Angel and Blair, Xander, and Willow, and was grinding his teeth sort of gave away the lie, but he at least seemed game to do this.

Angel didn't say a word, just scowled blackly and backed further into the room, allowing the rest of them to enter. Willow pushed Xander's chair in.

"Right." Xander said, in a falsely chipper tone. "Introductions. You already know Giles. The tall broody one is Angel, a vampire. Angel, this is Jim Ellison, and this is Blair Sandburg."

The two men were still engaged in a staring and intimidation contest. Xander was hard pressed to decide who was scarier at the moment. Both of them looked like they would be quite happy to commit a murder.

Blair seemed to be recovering from the surprise Jim and Angel's mutual attack had caused. And, consequently, going into geek overload. He was wide-eyed and starting to bounce on the balls of his feet. He took a deep breath, and a highly amused Xander braced himself for the onslaught.

"Why did your face change? How old are you? Who were you before you became a vampire? Who made you one? Do you have to sleep in a coffin? Does garlic bother you? What about holy water? Or crosses? How strong are you? How much blood do you have to drink? Xander and Willow said you don't eat people anymore, so do you raid bloodbanks or what?" Blair fired the questions off with nary a breath between them.

By the time he finally wound down, Xander was grateful he was sitting down, because otherwise he'dve fallen on his ass, he was laughing so hard. So was Willow. Even Giles and Jim looked amused. Angel just looked like someone had smacked him in the head with a mallet.

After a few moments of silence while Angel decided which of Blair's questions to answer and how, he finally spoke. "My face changed because of the demon. It's how vampires feed. I'm over two hundred years old. A vampire named Darla. No. Yes, but it's not lethal, just really painful. Yes, and it *is* lethal, if we get hit in the right spot, or with a lot of it. Yes, but again, it's not lethal, just painful. And I mostly drink pig blood. And before you ask, yes, vampires can live on nonhuman blood ... it's just not as good and doesn't last as long."

Far from having all his questions answered, Blair looked like he was about to launch another salvo when Jim, grinning tolerantly, clapped a hand over Blair's mouth. "Chief, how about we let them get a word in edgewise?"

Blair gave Jim a huffy look but finally nodded agreement, and Giles settled down to give Jim and Blair 'Demonology and Slayers 101'. Having heard it before, Xander mostly tuned out, grinning over at a highly amused Willow. It took the 'adults' about an hour to cover the absolute basics before Giles started asking questions of his own ... about Jim and his reaction to Angel. Which, of course, led to 'Sentinels and Guides 101'.

"I must say that I while I have read Sir Burton's works, I have never heard of the Sentinel mythos being corroborated." Giles said. "Though that could simply stem from having not taken a great interest in the subject at the time it was introduced to me." He'd been far, far more interested in the minutiae of demons and slayers. Sentinels had been of no real interest to him. "Nor have I heard anything about anyone other than a Slayer protecting ancient peoples from demons, but I must say that your supposition seems to be correct, given Angel and Jim's response to one another." Giles eyed both men, who were still giving each other death glares.

It was, Giles was willing to admit, the sort of information the Council would not willingly divulge. He had never been much of a fan of the way Potentials and Slayers were raised and trained. Isolation was not the answer. Granted, a pair of untrained teens as backup wasn't the answer either, but Buffy was faring better thanks to their presence than she would have otherwise. She'd be dead if it wasn't for Xander ... he'd never have gotten there in time, after she knocked him out. The Council's insistence on isolation and a sole focus on duty to the detriment of all else would take quite a hit if Slayers were informed of the existence of people who could and would stand guard over humankind in their stead. Granted, from what Blair had said, a full Sentient had not been seen in well over a century ... at least, not one that civilized man knew about. It was entirely possible that Sentinels were still cropping up among the more remote, primitive tribes in places like Africa and South America. Since such tribes saw very little or nothing of 'white man', there was no way of knowing when or if they'd had a Sentinel among their numbers.

For the sake of badly frayed tempers, it was decided to conduct further information exchanges over the phone, and the meeting was ended before either Angel or Jim gave in to the temptation to attack each other. Jim herded everyone out the door, then, still keeping a wary eye on Angel, followed them out. He didn't relax until he was out of the hotel.

Once back at the loft, Jim collapsed onto the couch and gave Xander a long look. "Blair told me you wanted to go back. Didn't quite believe him. But you do, don't you?"

Xander sighed. "I have to. I can't ... I can't walk away from this. Not now that I know. Not with people I know and care about in the line of fire." He motioned to Willow. "I ... I really do want to get to know you, because trust me, having a decent parent is not something I'm going to turn my nose up at ... but ... "

Jim wanted to argue, badly. But at the same time, if someone told him he'd have to give up watching out for 'his' city? Yeah, he'd be getting a good bit nastier about it than Xander was, so he could understand, even if he really, really didn't like it. He sighed. "If you're going back, you're not going back until you're a hundred percent ... and I'm going to be teaching you a thing or three before you go. Like hell I'm letting you go back there not knowing how to defend yourself." And maybe, just maybe, by the time Xander was back to one hundred percent and being taught self-defense moves, he might just decide to stay in Cascade for a while. Jim could hope.

"Fair enough. I'm nothing but an easy victim at the moment anyway." Xander said.

"And you for damn sure aren't going back to Jessica. We'll find an apartment for you to rent or something." Jim said, leveling a finger at Xander.

Xander was more than a little ok with that idea ... not having to be in the same house as Tony was always of the good, and given recent events, he sincerely doubted his mother would welcome him home with open arms. "Works for me." He agreed.

June 18, Colorado Springs

The first Jon knew of anything being wrong was when he made the mistake of opening his front door to go get his mail. The sudden flood of sunlight after several days of having the curtains closed and no lights on brought him to his knees, eyes clamped closed and one arm thrown across his face to shield his eyes further. It was all he could do to keep from crying out in surprise and pain. Somehow, he managed to scoot back and slam the door, then collapsed against it, waiting for the throbbing agony to ease. It was a good five minutes before he could think straight.

What the hell? Yeah, he'd been in fairly dark surroundings for a couple days, and yeah, walking out into bright sunlight was always going to twinge a bit, but not like that! He rubbed at his temples, attempting to ward off the massive headache he could feel headed his way, then scratched at his arm. He'd gotten bitten by a bug or something yesterday, since his arm'd been itching almost constantly since then.

He put the itch out of his mind and tried to figure out what the hell his deal with light was. That was not normal, not by any stretch. Still, he was hesitant to call his older half. Not only did the problem sound stupid as hell, but the older half would think he was just whining. Jon thumped his head against the door lightly, and now that he wasn't being dazzled, got to his feet in search of some Tylenol. He'd need it for the headache.

June 18, Cascade

That night, Xander dreamed of the hyena again.

He was jogging tirelessly across the savannah, ignoring the myriad of prey species all around him. Then, without warning, a soft sound reached the hyena's ears, a sound of pain. Furry ears flicked forward, and the hyena altered course and sped up, anticipation beginning to hum through its frame. The waiting was almost over. Soon now ... very soon.

Chapter Text

Sentinel Meet Guide

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Eleven chapters of waiting, and finally! Also ... I am evil.

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June 20, Colorado Springs

Jon was beginning to freak out, just a little. Over the last two days, his sight and hearing had repeatedly gone completely insane. Worse, he had some sort of extremely painful rash that had spread from one arm to almost the entirety of his body. Overnight. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate or think. He had a migraine. He was, when he could string two thoughts together, fairly sure he was dying. Again. But the thought of trying to call the older half when his hearing was so messed up and he had the migraine from hell made him cringe.

It didn't help that there was a tiny corner of his mind that was thinking that maybe it'd be better if he did die. It wasn't like he actually had any real place in the world. He was a clone, for god's sake. That corner of his mind was usually either silent or drowned out by the far louder and more adamant parts of Jon's personality, but at the moment, he was so miserable it was louder than usual. Nearly as loud, in fact, as it had been in the wake of Charlie's death.

He swore a blue streak when he looked up ... and saw a wild animal in his apartment.

June 20, Cascade

Xander was ... edgy. To put it politely. If he didn't know better, he'd say his Hellmouth radar was going off, but that wasn't it. Something, however, was definitely going on. He'd been dreaming of the hyena the last two nights, and yesterday, he'd found himself snitching Blair's laptop and going on the 'net. When Blair caught him at it, he'd been checking out maps of Colorado ... and he had no freaking idea why. It was enough to make a guy paranoid. He was beginning to wish that Willow hadn't gone home with Giles and Angel. Not that she'd have a solution to the problem, but having her around would at least have distracted him.

And now, he couldn't seem to sit still to save his soul. Sore, still healing and out of shape be damned, he'd been pacing off and on all day, increasingly uneasy. Blair and Jim had been watching him, Blair with wide-eyed curiosity, Jim with a bit more subtlety. Xander'd caught Blair eyeing Jim more than once, as if wondering if he was picking up on whatever was driving Xander to distraction. Clearly, Jim wasn't, which hadn't helped Xander's assumption that something Hellmouthy was going on, despite being two states away from said hellmouth.

Finally, exasperated with himself, he flung himself onto his futon and glared at the ceiling for a minute or two. About five minutes later, his day was really capped off when the hyena abruptly popped in. Xander gave the thing a death-glare, and fought the urge to find somewhere to hide from it. From everything Blair had told him, that was so not going to work. They hyena stared right back and then whooped at him, the sound oddly urgent, before it turned and ran through a wall. The wall on the east side of the apartment, some part of Xander noticed.

He eyed Jim and Blair. "Ok, did you two see that?" He asked, his tone almost begging. He was still getting used to the whole spirit animal thing in general, nevermind the fact his was a freaking hyena. The gods clearly hated him.

His question was somewhat unnecessary, as both Jim and Blair were eyeing where the hyena had appeared. "Yep." Much to Xander's relief, Jim sounded nearly as disgusted as Xander felt. It helped knowing that someone else wasn't a fan of the whole spirit animal thing, even if Jim had different reasons.

"Something's up." Blair said. "I mean, you haven't been able to sit still for more than about five minutes all day." He eyed Xander for a minute, then glanced over at Jim. "You know ... I don't think you're a Sentinel, Xander." He finally said.

"Oh really? So I'm just blessed with a freaking ghost hyena that follows me around then?" Xander snarked. Not that it was even out of the realm of possibility, given his life over the last year.

"No. I just ... well, at first I assumed you'd be a Sentinel because of Jim, assuming the Sentinel thing was genetic, but either it isn't, or you didn't get it. You're acting a bit like I did, before Jim and I met, actually."

"Chief?" Jim asked, frowning slightly.

"Jim, think about it. Of all the places in the world ... literally, you know how much Naomi and I travelled ... why did I come here for college? Cascade's good, but there's quite a few places better, even just here in the States." Blair pointed out. "I bugged Naomi for over a year to bring me here." He confessed. "It was like I knew I needed to be here, but for the life of me, didn't know why. I left on expeditions a few times, but I always came back, and the months before you and I met? Someone would have had to have knocked me out to get me to leave Cascade. I never saw my wolf, but then again, I was in town with you ... and I pulled some really questionable stunts to meet you."

That made Jim grin, remembering 'Doctor McKay'. At the time, it had pissed him off, but now, it was rather amusing. "So you're saying you think Xander's a guide, then?"

Blair nodded. "And I'll bet you any amount of money that his Sentinel's starting to have the senses kick in, and needs Xander. It'd explain a whole hell of a lot, and not just about the last couple of days."

Xander thought about it, and after a minute or two, decided that Blair maybe had a point. After all, Blair and Jim had told him their spirit animals had led them to Xander. Why? At first, they'd assumed because Xander was, in fact, Jim's son. But what if it had been because there was a Sentinel out there somewhere who was going to need him? Or maybe a bit of both? Besides, Xander rather liked the idea of not having super senses. From what he'd seen of Jim, it sucked royally. "So ... how in hell do we find them?" He wanted to know.

"You were staring at maps of Colorado yesterday." Blair pointed out. "We can start there. I'll bet he's there. It'll just be a matter of somehow further narrowing the search area."

That worked for Xander. Five minutes later, he had Blair's laptop again, and was staring at maps once more. It wasn't until that evening that they finally managed to narrow things down to the general area of Denver, though Xander was sure Denver wasn't their destination. Wherever they were going, it was relatively close to there, though. Xander kept looking to the south of Denver, too, so they figured it was south of there. It was a good start, all things considered. Blair opined that they might be looking at Colorado Springs, as the nearest large city to Denver. It was about seventy miles away, which wasn't all that far ... maybe an hour's drive. At worst, since Xander was so sure they weren't headed for Denver, they could start at Colorado Springs and spread out from there if it proved not to be the place.

Xander was surprised that they were so willing to just go with this. But then again, they'd been dealing with weird stuff for about as long as he had, hadn't they? So it made a certain degree of sense. He was just grateful beyond words that Jim wasn't freaking out. It made a very, very nice change from Tony and Jessica, who either ran him down verbally, beat the crap out of him, or ignored him. Sometimes all three in rapid succession. It was weird as hell having an adult in his life that cared about him.

Figuring out the general area they needed to go seemed to ease a bit of the need to be there. At least enough so that Xander, while still obsessed with it, could sit still and concentrate on other things again. It probably also helped that they spent the evening talking over plans to get to Colorado Springs and start looking. Jim had managed to book them a flight tomorrow evening, even, which helped immensely. That night, he dreamed again. But this time, it was a bit different.

June 20, Colorado Springs.

A leopard. He had a freaking leopard in his apartment. Jon stared at the thing, wishing he had his P-90. Or a zat. Hell, even a staff weapon'd be nice. Leopard. What the hell! It stood there in the middle of his living room and stared at him, unblinking and unmoving for several long moments.

Then things got worse. A honking great hyena came running in. Through a wall. The leopard turned and headbutted the hyena in greeting. The hyena licked the leopard's face, which made the leopard give it a slightly disgusted look. There was so much wrong with this scenario Jon didn't even know where to start. Hell, he was still stuck on the whole 'leopard in my living room' part of the problem. The rest of it was just not really registering. It didn't help that he could barely think. He thumped his head against the nearest hard surface, more than half hoping the additional pain would make him pass out. No such luck of course. Though it apparently was enough to make the leopard and the hyena go away, much to his relief.

And then things got even worse. In between one breath and the next, the apartment dropped away, and ...

He was suddenly in the African savannah, staring at the leopard again. It was up a tree, and not looking any too good, its coat ragged and shabby looking, it was entirely too thin, and had a pained expression on its face. Which kind of echoed how he felt, to be sure. Before Jon could do more than register the leopard's presence, he heard a distinctive whoop in the distance, and then the leopard lifted its head and gave a grating call.

Xander's Dream

The hyena was galloping now, a sense of urgency driving it on. Xander raced along behind it, barely paying any attention to their surroundings. He had a feeling the hyena was leading him towards a patch of trees in the distance. It whooped, announcing its imminent arrival. A few moments later, there was a loud, grating, growling chuff from the direction of the trees. And then they were at the trees, and the hyena wove through them briefly before skidding to a stop at the base of one of them.

Both Xander and Jon

Jon did a triple take when the hyena raced into view, and quickly slid behind another tree, the better to watch without being seen. Behind the hyena was a boy, about fifteen or sixteen by the look of him, with dark, shaggy hair and dark eyes.

Xander glanced around as he pulled to a stop by the hyena. He didn't see anything right away ... at least, not until it occurred to him to look up. If this had been real, he'dve had a heart attack, because about five or ten feet almost directly over his head, there was a rather ragged, unhappy looking leopard. The hyena at his feet whooped, and reared up against the tree, front paws braced on the bark. After a moment, it dropped back to all fours, and then paced around the tree before repeating its actions. Then it dropped its nose to the ground, snuffling audibly for a few moments before it walked off, nose still to the ground. It stopped at a nearby tree and gave a distinctly gleeful-sounding cackle. Xander snorted in amusement and wandered over.

"What'd you find?" He asked. He got a rather unexpected answer when a teenage boy about his age warily stepped out from behind the tree. He had light brown/blonde hair, and brown eyes that carried a seriousness most teenagers didn't have.

"What the hell's going on?" The other kid asked.

Xander grinned. "I'm not completely sure, but I've got a fair idea. This guy belongs to me. And that leopard, I'm guessing, belongs to you. If Blair's right, you're a Sentinel."

"What the hell's a Sentinel?" Jon wanted to know.

"Somebody who has majorly enhanced senses." Xander said, opting for the briefest, simplest explanation. "And if he." Xander pointed to the leopard. "Is any indication, I'm betting you're in trouble at the moment."

Jon grimaced. "Something like that." He wasn't about to admit the kid was right. Not when he had no idea if this was real, or something cooked up by Loki or some particularly demented Goa'uld. "What's your name, anyway?" He wanted to know.

"Xander. What's yours?"

"Jon."

"Where are you?"

There was no way in hell Jon was going to answer that one. He gave Xander a rather hostile glare. Xander rolled his eyes. "Look, we'll find you. You're in trouble. Help's on the way. Just try to hold on until we get there, all right?"

Jon

And before Jon could answer, the savannah melted away, and he was back to standing in his living room, probably looking like a complete idiot. What in the name of hell had that been? Unfortunately, before he could even begin to come up with an answer, his hearing spiked again, dropping him to his knees, arms wrapped defensively around his head.

June 21, Cascade

Xander, injuries be damned, almost catapulted out of bed as he woke from the dream. "Shit. Shit." He got to his feet and headed for the door, only to forcibly stop himself. "Double shit. This is bad." Something in him was all but screaming at him to get to Colorado, right now. It was very disconcerting. And alarming. He threw a look at the clock and swore viciously. It was barely four in the morning ... he had about twelve hours to wait before their flight. Even worse, driving there would take twice as long. He was going to go completely insane before they got there, and they still had to actually find Jon, though with any luck the hyena and/or the leopard would lead the way, like the jaguar and wolf had done for Jim and Blair. At least he had a first name, and a face, to put to the person they were trying to find, if the dream hadn't been so much smoke and mirrors.

Thankfully, Blair was very much a morning person, and he came out into the living room around five am, which meant Xander'd only had an hour to drive himself nuts alone. Blair got one good look at his face and gave him a sympathetic look. "Want me to find out if we can get an earlier flight?" He asked.

Xander nodded. "Please. Had another dream last night. Only this time, I saw him. He's got a leopard. Which doesn't look too good. Didn't find out much, but he did tell me his name was Jon."

Blair's eyebrows headed for his hairline, even as he hurried into the kitchen to start breakfast. "Ok, want to give me the long version?" he asked.

So Xander did, and by the time he'd wound down, breakfast was mostly ready and Jim was awake and moving, though not downstairs yet. Once the food was cooked, Blair immediately headed for the phone and his laptop, to see if there were any earlier flights, and if so, whether or not they could exchange tickets. Much to Xander's relief, they could, though there was a tradeoff. There was a ten am flight ... but it landed in Denver, not Colorado Springs. Still, even with the additional drive time, they'd be cutting at least four hours off the original time it would have taken just to get to Colorado Springs, so that was of the good.

Colorado Springs

The minute they landed in Colorado Springs, Xander got treated to a repeat of how Jim and Blair found him, only this time it was the hyena and the leopard leading the way.

"This is so freaky." Xander groused. "I mean, seriously. We're following ghost animals. Anyone ever finds out about this, we're going to be due for a long, long stay in a padded room."

That made Blair snicker, though he did agree ... this sort of thing would definitely raise eyebrows. Jim just shot Xander a commiserating look through their rental's rearview mirror. Finally, the hyena and leopard stopped in front of an old two-story house that had been subdivided into apartments. The leopard dashed up the wooden stairs on the side of the house that led up to what had once been the attic, and the three men followed. Xander knocked on the door when they reached it ... but there was no response.

"Maybe he's not home?" Xander asked, then frowned. "Or we've got the wrong place. Or this is some sort of cosmic hoax." Those last two options had the hyena, sitting at his feet, giving him a dirty look.

At that point, the leopard (who had disappeared into the house) stuck its head back through the door and gave a distinctly alarmed-sounding cry, before pulling back into the apartment.

"Somehow, I don't think that's the case." Jim said, eyeing the door. They could always break in, but that was going to be fun to explain later, either if the guy really wasn't home or if they had to call the emergency squad. Then again ... Jim knew just how bad things could get, when the senses went out of control. Hell, more than once, he'd have ended up dead if it wasn't for Blair, simply because he zoned at a really, really, really bad time. If there was such a thing as a good time to zone, that is.

"Head back down the stairs a bit. I'm going to get the door open." Jim told them. Whatever else, he wasn't about to leave a fellow Sentinel locked up somewhere in dire straits. They'd figure out how to explain things later, if it came to that.

Xander and Blair both backed off down the steps a bit, and Jim tested the door. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be especially sturdy, and he was a big guy. Better still, it didn't look like the deadbolt was engaged, just the knob lock. A couple good hits with his shoulder and the lock gave, allowing the door to swing inwards.

It was instantly clear that, whatever else may be going on, this was definitely the home of a Sentinel in distress. The window shades were all down, and several of the windows had blankets dangling over the curtain rods, a haphazard attempt at further blocking any light coming through. There was a bucket that bore remnants of bleach and water from a recent attempt at scrubbing out the scents in the apartment, and Jim winced. That attempt had probably just made things worse ... bleach reeked, even to normal senses. Clothes were scattered everywhere, a sign the Sentinel's sense of touch was in as bad of shape as his sight and smell. Jim'd gone through everything he owned trying to find something he could tolerate against his skin once or twice when his senses had re-awoken just before he met Blair.

To Xander, the place mostly looked like a regular bachelor's apartment. Clothes scattered everywhere, blankets on the window ... none of it had the same connotations for him as it did for Jim. He glanced around, and, not seeing anyone, headed for one of the doors off the living room. It turned out to be the kitchen, nearly as messy as the living room, but as devoid of unknown people as the living room had been. Xander immediately headed for the next door. Bathroom. The third door proved to be the bedroom.

Xander didn't immediately see anyone in the room, and might have left, despite the near-compulsion to find Jon, if it hadn't been for the leopard sitting at the foot of the bed, looking worried. Xander decided to check the far side of the bed ... and found a kid that looked a lot like what the 'Jon' guy in his dream had looked like. And he was seeing a lot more of the other teen than he'd ever expected to.

He was curled up in a tight ball, arms over his head, wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers and he looked like complete shit. There was some sort of painful-looking rash scattered all over his arms and back and legs. He was also completely unresponsive. Xander swore softly and dropped to his knees, throwing one arm around the other teen and mentally blessing Blair. Blair, once it'd been clear that Xander was probably a Guide, had given Xander 'Guide 101', which basically was a primer on the basics of how to work with and help a Sentinel.

The lessons were coming in handy right about now. With no way of knowing what Jon had zoned on ... or if that was even the problem ... he could have spiked, which was a different problem, or just have retreated into unconsciousness to get away from his out of control senses, Xander just tried to monopolize as many of Jon's senses as he could. He started babbling a mile a minute about anything that came into his head, and deliberately laid his hand gently over Jon's nose and mouth, hoping that it would either muffle the scents Jon was already having to deal with, or at the least it would provide something new that he'd want to figure out and thus be pulled towards consciousness. Sight he couldn't manage at the moment, as Jon had his eyes clamped closed. Still, three of the five wasn't bad.

Jon's POV

In retrospect ... the bleach had been a very, very bad idea. Not that Jon was actually capable of thinking that one through at the moment. After the dream, completely weirded out, he'd spent a few hours stalking through his apartment, getting thoroughly frustrated by whatever was going on. He'd decided the place needed some cleaning to get rid of the stench ... and that had been, pretty much, the beginning of the end. His senses, as uncomfortable as they were before that, had gone completely off the scale in the space of about five minutes. He'd ended up tearing his clothes off to get away from at least some small shred of the agonizing pain. A pair of silk boxers he'd gotten himself mostly as a private, and very bitter joke (like anyone was ever going to see them? Hah.) proved to be the only things he could even begin to tolerate wearing.

Then some idiot had driven by and laid on the horn. That had been the last thing that Jon was aware of. Until now. It was the scent that reached him first, close and strong and smelling of ... well, things Jon didn't yet know how to identify. Whatever the combination was, it was ... oddly soothing. Reassuring. If he'd been at all coherent, he'dve balked at that thought, but at the moment his higher brain functions were distinctly absent. He liked that smell. He wanted to know where it was coming from.

And as Jon slowly began to pull out of the zone, his other senses reported in. There was something draped across his back, and warmth and pressure all along one side of his body. Something was draped over his nose, too, and as Jon began to come back to consciousness, he instinctively tried to shake it off, old demons rearing their heads briefly, but unable to completely take over with him in the shape he was in. Still, it was enough to pull him further awake, wanting and needing to know who'd captured him this time, and where he was at. It was at that point that two more things registered ... a steady, swift-paced thump-thump very close to his right ear, and, laid over that, a voice, talking fast but in a quiet, reassuring tone. Jon managed to peel his eyes open a slit, tensing and groaning against the sudden return of his vision combined with the fact that the pain was beginning to make itself known again, though it was, to his delight and surprise, somewhat muted from earlier. Maybe he hadn't been captured after all. Might just be the older half and crew, though he didn't recognize the voice. A nurse, then, maybe? If the older half'd found him curled in a ball on the floor, the first stop would have been the SG infirmary.

And now that he was actually thinking things through again, the words pouring out of the person next to him began to make sense. Mostly, it was various exhortations to 'come back' and/or let the other person know he wasn't unconscious anymore. He settled for a low groan, which had the effect of instantly changing the patter of talk.

General POV

Xander wasn't sure how long he knelt there, one arm over the other teen and saying pretty much anything that came into his head before he felt the other guy take a sudden, deep breath. Xander had to fight down the urge to whoop in relief, and immediately shifted to encouraging the guy to wake up. A few moments later, the guy shook his head, like he was trying to dislodge Xander's hand. It took another minute or two, but then the guy groaned. Xander grinned widely. Yeah, he was in pain, but he was also, thanks be, not zoning anymore. At least, Xander didn't think so.

"Hey there. I know this has to suck, big time, but don't worry. We'll get it figured." Xander grinned. "At least I know what the heck's going on, and better yet, we've got backup." That brought the other guy's head up, and he blinked owlishly at Xander. "My name's Xander. We met last night. Well, sort of. Weird dream about a hyena and a leopard? Ring any bells?"

Jon grimaced. "Yeah." His voice was little more than a whisper. "M'Jon."

"Nice to finally meet you in person, Jon. Now let's see if we can't do something to get your senses under control. Once you're not reeling and in agony, I'll make with the 'splainy. I want you to think of an instrument panel you're really, really familiar with ... something you can picture in your head without having to think about it that has at least five dials."

That was easy enough. The first thing that jumped into Jon's mind was the instrument panel for his favorite jet, back when he'd still been a pilot. "Got one."

"Now, mark six of the dials. One for sight, one for sound, one for smell, one for touch, one for taste, and one for pain." Blair had taught Jim to use just five dials, but Xander was going to go with six ... after all, no matter what sense was going wonky, it was damn hard to think when your pain level was through the roof, and reducing that first would make it easier to wrestle the senses back under control.

"Now imagine where your senses are on those dials. Right about now, I'm betting they're way, way into the red zone." That got Xander a nod. "Now comes the tricky part. I want you to grab the dial for pain, and force it back down. You need to really picture it, believe it's happening."

Jon scowled, but went along with it. If it worked and got him out of this hell, he'd be willing to french-kiss Anise/Freya, nevermind pretending to mentally play with instrument controls. It took him a few minutes, with Xander giving quiet encouragement the whole time, but finally, he managed to get a 'handle' on the dial, and, wonder of wonders, the pain began to receed. He let out a long, relieved sigh and sagged, ending up leaning on Xander a good bit.

"Hah. That got it, evidently. Feeling better?" Xander asked.

"Yeah. Now what?"

"Now do the same for the other five, one by one."

It took Jon the better part of half an hour to get the dials back to something like normal, but he managed it. He had the feeling that they weren't going to stay where he put them, though ... at least, not for long. He could all but feel his senses trying to slip their new leashes. Still, it was a huge relief to have his senses back within normal parameters. Of course, at that point, he very belatedly realized he was essentially naked, and clinging to another teenaged boy. He squawked and lunged away from Xander, snatching up the first piece of clothing that came to hand and scrambling into it, cursing inventively all the while. Xander manfully refrained from laughing at him, though his expression was highly amused.

"When you're done getting dressed, c'mon out into the living room. My dad and his friend are out there. We'll explain what the heck's going on."

June 21, Cheyenne Mountain.

No one had heard from or seen the Mini-Me since the start of summer. This news irritated the hell out of Jack for a number of reasons, the least of which being that it dealt with the mini-me. All the weird shit that had happened to SG-1 over the years, and he was still trying to get his head around having a teenaged clone of himself running around. The only thing screwier than this had been Daniel's ascension and return.

That mini-me had been out of contact for weeks, but it had only been noticed in the last few days had him wanting to kick some ass. Inattention like that got people killed. Worse, it'd taken them this long to decide that he needed to be notified. He growled. By now, there'd be little to no trace of what happened to mini-me. Still, he had to try.

He stomped into Daniel's office. "Yo, Daniel. Gear up. Mini-me's gone missing." Jack told him. "You know where Teal'c's at?" While Jack knew the Jaffa was on base somewhere, it could be any of a number of places. Daniel and Sam were far easier to find. Check their offices, and in Sam's case, her lab. There was a better than ninety percent chance he'd find them there.

"I think he went down to the gym to spar. Want me to go get him?" Daniel offered, immediately beginning to put what he'd been working on away. After so many years, he'd become attuned to Jack's moods, and Jack was not a happy camper at the moment. The quicker they got on the move, the better.

"Yeah. I'll get Sam. Meetcha on the surface in twenty." Jack said, then turned and headed off for Sam's territory.

Half an hour later, they were in Jack's truck and headed for the apartment the Air Force subsidized for the mini-me, all four of them armed, though not as heavily as Jack would have liked, and neither he nor Sam were in uniform, so as not to alarm the locals with the sight of two soldiers with guns running around the streets.

When they got there, there was a strange SUV in front of the house, but Jack initially didn't pay it any mind ... after all, the mini was old enough to get a license, and definitely knew how to drive. Then it registered that it was awfully new for a teenager's pocketbook, even Air Force funded, and he glared at it for a minute, before heading for the stairs. Partway up, he realized the apartment's front door was a little ajar, and showing signs of having been forced. Shit. He pulled his gun and signaled the others to do likewise, and then slipped up the stairs as quietly as he could. A few more steps, and he heard voices. He cursed mentally, and then signaled the others again.

He and Teal'c hit the door first, slamming it back against the wall with a bang, guns already starting to track for targets.

Chapter Text

SG 1 Sentinels and Guides Uh Oh

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Sentinel fans will notice that Jim is not reacting negatively to Jon. The Sentinel Jim encountered in canon was insane and a thief. Normal Sentinels can and do coexist quite peacefully.

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June 21, Colorado Springs

Jon, completely mortified, had made fast work of getting dressed, and warily walked out into his small living room. He instantly identified the larger of the two adults in the room as a fellow soldier ... the stance and look was unmistakable. The shorter guy made him snort in amusement, because he reminded Jon of Daniel, just with longer, curlier hair.

Eyeballing the two men, he wandered over towards Xander, not quite realizing he was instinctively putting himself between Xander and potential danger. Whether that was the soldier in him talking or the Sentinel was anyone's guess. Jim snorted in amusement as he watched Jon maneuver, but also felt bad for the kid. He looked like shit, pale, with heavy bags under his eyes, and he was looking a bit on the thin side. And that was ignoring the rash that Jim could see bits of.

"Relax, kid. We're not here to hurt you. We're here to help. My name's Jim Ellison, and this is Blair Sandburg. I know you've got a lot of questions."

"Hell yes. Let's start with how the hell you found me." Jon said, trying hard not to be antagonistic and not quite managing it.

Jim grimaced. "That's gonna take some explaining." That the kid probably wouldn't believe. "Short version is, we got led here. Long version's part of the explanation about why your senses have suddenly gone completely nuts."

"Yeah, and you know that how?" Jon demanded.

"Part of the long explanation." Xander said. "I know it sounds a bit crazy, and it looks very ... worrying ... but we're really not here to hurt you, I promise."

Something made Jon want to believe that, but his soldier's brain had kicked into high gear now that he could actually think at all. And despite the fact he liked to pretend he had an IQ of about eighty, Jon ... errr, Jack ... hadn't gotten as far as he had rank-wise on the strength of his good looks. He hadn't survived ... how many System Lords had it been? ... and any number of unpleasant circumstances offworld by luck alone either.

Blair started talking, beginning to explain Sentinels and Guides. Unfortunately, he didn't get a chance to get very far before Jim stiffened beside him.

It was Teal'c that gave SG-1 away. Jim was so used to picking up on and ignoring passing motorists that their arrival would have gone unremarked if it had been four humans. Unfortunately, while Jaffa look human on the surface, their internal structure (thanks to the pouches) was very different, and Jim picked up on that the moment Jack's truck stopped out front. SG-1 was just lucky Teal'c no longer had Junior. Jim probably would have picked up on that when they were still two or three miles away.

"We've got company, chief." Jim warned. A couple of sniffs, and he frowned. "They're armed. And one of them ... " He shook his head. "Not sure what the deal is, but it doesn't sound right."

Jon had a suspicion he knew who it was. "How many are there?"

"Four." Jim answered immediately.

Jon grimaced, having won the bet with himself. Jim had moved around so that he was between everyone else and the door, his hand going to the gun he always carried as he eyed the front door warily. "Better get ... " He started to warn.

At which point the door slammed open. Jon flinched back like he'd been shot, hands flying up to his ears. Xander and Blair, after one glance at the people in the door, instantly got between Jon and the intruders. Xander half-instinctively put a hand on Jon's arm, muttering quietly about dials while giving Jack and Teal'c positively lethal glares. Fortunately, Jon wasn't completely incapacitated by the sudden racket, just in pain from it, and after a minute or two managed to wrestle things back under control.

"Put the guns down." Jim snarled, his own gun pointing steadily at Teal'c chest, finger kissing the trigger. Fully three-quarters of his attention was on Teal'c, the rest split between Jack, Sam, and Daniel. Jim had no idea what the deal was with Teal'c, and until he did (and maybe even after that) he was considering the big black man the primary threat of the group. "Right now."

Well shit, Jack thought. He instantly recognized Jim as a fellow soldier, which had his alarms going. Trust? NID? "Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?" Jack demanded, his own gun trained on Jim.

Jim was having none of that. "Gun. Down. And you'll be the ones answering questions, seeing as you came in here waving guns around." He snapped. "Starting with what the fuck he is." There was no mistaking who Jim meant, since his attention hadn't wavered from Teal'c the entire time.

"I don't think so." Jack snapped. "I want to know why Jon's door was busted in, and who the hell you are, and ... "

"Jack, shut the hell up and put the damn gun down." Jon snapped, having finally gotten the pain from the slammed door under control again. "They're not threatening me." It was just as well he'd recovered somewhat, as otherwise, the standoff might have continued indefinitely, as neither Jack nor Jim was in any way inclined to back down.

Jack gave his clone a death-glare, but considering it was his clone, decided to trust Jon's judgment and slowly lowered his gun. Unfortunately for him, Jim was not overly inclined to reciprocate, not with Teal'c in the room.

"Jim, he's not a danger." Jon said, having a damn good idea of why Jim was so fixated on Teal'c.

"You know them?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, they're all friends of mine." Jon confirmed.

Jim gave Teal'c one last death-glare before reluctantly taking his finger off the trigger and dropping his arm. "Fine. Who the hell are they?"

Once the guns went down, Blair stepped up so that he was just behind and to Jim's right, his arm brushing Jim's lightly, hoping having him so close would help defuse Jim's ire. "Easy, big guy." He murmured, at a level only Jim and Jon would be able to hear. "Just take it easy."

"Hey, we're right here." Jack groused. "Try asking us."

Jim just gave him a dirty look, while, from his protected spot behind Jim, Blair and Xander, Jon rolled his eyes.

"Ignore Jack." Daniel said, sliding towards the front of the group now that the guns had all been put away, assuming his usual role of 'first contact with the natives' almost without even thinking about it. "He's Jack O'Neill, this is Samantha Carter, and this is Murray." Daniel indicated each person in turn. "And my name's Daniel Jackson." He offered his hand to shake, despite a noise of protest from Jack.

Jim eyed the four of them, catching the lie as to Teal'c's name, but after a few moments shook Daniel's hand.

Blair, in the meantime, gave Daniel a commiserating grin, as Daniel was clearly used to Jack being cranky and making things difficult, just as he was used to Jim doing much the same. "This is Jim, That's Xander, and I'm Blair." He indicated who was who.

Jim was being very stubborn. He wasn't letting any of SG-1 approach the three men behind him, and spared a moment of thanks that Blair hadn't given last names in his introduction. "So ... what the hell is he?" He jerked his head towards Teal'c.

"And what are you doing here?" Jack demanded in return, having absolutely no intention of answering Jim's question, though he dearly wanted to know how Jim seemed to know Teal'c wasn't human.

And they were back to a standoff, with neither side willing to give the information the other side was asking for, giving each other distrustful looks. Jon was rolling his eyes in exasperated amusement, but he wasn't sure what to do to break the stalemate. Jack was not going to start blabbing about the SGC, or explaining the truth of who and what Jon was, or Teal'c, not in a million years. And Jim didn't look like he was going to say word one about anything until he found out what he wanted to know about SG-1. Yeesh.

At that point, Daniel seemed to get a good look at Jon, and realized that Jon looked like crap. His eyebrows headed for his hairline as his expression became concerned. "Jon? What happened?" He wanted to know.

"Hell if I know. My senses started going all over the place. This lot seemed to know what was going on, but you busted in before they could say much of anything." Jon groused.

Jack eyed Jim, Xander, and Blair. "So ... explain." He demanded.

Which just made Jim give him a dirty look. "It's nothing you need to hear, since it has nothing to do with you." Like hell Jim was going to tell anyone in the military about Sentinels in general, nevermind reveal that he was one!

Blair rolled his eyes. "Jim, chill." He said, a bit louder this time.

"Look, either someone starts talking, or I start making with the arrests." Jack snapped.

"Try it and find out what happens." Jim snarled in return, bracing himself.

"Oh for the love of little baby monkeys, will you two stow the testosterone please?" Xander huffed, shaking his head. Daniel and Blair both snickered at the looks on Jim and Jack's faces. "Jon needed help, and we came to give it to him, all right? Do the hows and whys really matter, or were you wanting him to end up dead?"

"Whoah, whoah, dead?" Jack sputtered.

"Yeah, dead. As in not alive anymore." Xander repeated.

That had Jack eyeing Jon, wondering if the clones' admittedly screwed up DNA and body had gone on the blink a second time. There was no telling what Loki had done to mini-me after all. "What the hell happened?" He wanted to know.

Before Jim could start with the 'I'll tell you if you tell me what I want to know' thing again, Blair started going into a modified version of his Sentinel spiel. "Long story short, back when humans were still running around in tribes, there were people born who had all five senses really enhanced, who eventually became known as Sentinels. They were their tribes' watchmen, an early warning system against dangerous weather and beasties. When we started 'modernizing', they started dying out because they weren't really needed anymore, but they still exist, and crop up now and again. Jon's one of them."

To say Jack was skeptical was to understate the case, though it had nothing to do with not believing Sentinels existed, and more to do with the fact that Jon was, essentially, Jack, and, well ... if one was a Sentinel, why weren't both? Not that he was going to say anything about it. "Uh huh. And you know this how?"

"I've been studying the Sentinel phenomenon since I was a teenager." Blair said. "I managed to track down a lot of people with one or two senses enhanced ... you know, perfume sniffers and food tasters? People like that. Jon's got all five. And if you need any further proof ... " He waved a hand at Jon, indicating the sorry shape he was in. "You really don't need to look any further. Enhanced senses may come in handy for a lot of things, but they also have downsides, and bad reactions to things is one of them. Hence the rash. I'm guessing either the material in his clothes or what he uses to wash them caused that." Blair shot Jim a look, who shot Blair a look back. "He's also not the only Sentinel I've worked with, though the other one's an adult."

Jack, not being anywhere near as stupid as he liked to pretend he was, realized pretty fast that Jim was, apparently, the other Sentinel, but that Blair and Jim weren't willing to admit to it in front of SG-1. Given the circumstances, Jack didn't blame them a bit. "Fair enough." He still didn't believe Jon was a Sentinel, but he couldn't exactly tell them that without explaining why, which was a definite no-go.

"So, what the hell is he?" Jim wanted to know, still not willing to give up on that. He hadn't stopped eyeing Teal'c the entire time they'd been there.

"Classified." Jack snapped off. George was going to have kittens about this.

"Yeah, I had a feeling you were going to say that." Jim snarked, then sighed. "Look, Jon needs help, and we know what to do. You guys going to cause problems if we take him with us?"

Jack eyed Jim warily, wanting to say no. He shot a look at Jon, who gave a faint nod, trusting in the fact that they were essentially the same person for Jack to understand what the nod meant. Jack eyed Jim again, then gave another sigh. "He stays in contact." Jack demanded. "And you tell us where the hell you're going. He falls off the radar, and I come hunting. And believe me when I say you really, really, really don't want to piss me off. And you give us full names."

Jim snorted. "You'll find me under Captain James Ellison, Army Rangers." He rattled off his service number, knowing exactly what Jack planned to do with the full names. "Blair Sandburg, and Alexander Harris. We're heading for Cascade, Washington. I'm a cop there, Major Crimes unit, under Simon Banks." Translation, we have nothing to hide. Well, except for Jim being a Sentinel, but that wasn't going to be in any of the records.

Jack's eyebrows headed for his hairline when Jim gave his name and rank. "I've heard of you." He said. The whole Peru mess had pretty much been the talk of the military there for a while, given everything that had happened. Some part of Jack relaxed. If Jim lived up to even a tenth of the hype surrounding him, Jon was in good hands, regardless of the reason why his senses were going nuts. It also explained why Jim was being so antagonistic. After what Jim had lived through, Jack would have been more than a little leery of anyone military too. Having your entire team wiped out because your superior was on the take, then surviving a year and a half in the jungle before you got rescued would make anyone twitchy.

Jim made a disgusted face. "I'm sure you have." He practically growled.

There was several moments' awkward silence before Jack finally rolled his eyes and motioned the rest of SG-1 to leave. "Remember, he stays in contact."

"We know, we know." Jim snarked. Jack finally turned and left.

Once the door closed, Blair turned to Xander. "Well, that could have gone better ... but it also could have gone a lot worse."

"No kidding. I was half expecting Jack and Jim to just start kicking each others' asses." Xander said. "And what did you mean, by 'what is he'?"

"If 'Murray' is human, I'll eat my shorts." Jim said. "That's what I meant." He shot Jon a look.

Jon immediately shook his head. "Yeah I know them, yeah, I know what the deal is, and no, I can't tell you. It's very classified."

Jim grimaced in distaste, but didn't push it, knowing all too well that doing so was a very bad idea. People who blabbed classified material tended to end up severely regretting it, as did the people they blabbed to. "All right, I get it. Why don't you three start packing up?"

Xander nodded, and gently tugged Jon towards the bedroom again.

"Been meaning to ask, but what the hell happened to you?" Jon wanted to know, indicating Xander's splints.

"I got mugged." Xander lied, hoping Jon's senses were new and out of whack enough to keep him from realizing that he was lying, at least until they got to Cascade and could explain the whole demon thing.

"Ouch."

Chapter Text

Tangled Webs

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Further AU notice ... Janet Frasier is alive and well and will remain so. Because I like her and she is badass. Just assume that damn staff blast missed her. *nods*

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June 21, Colorado Springs

Jack was surprised that Sam managed to keep her mouth shut until they got into the truck.

"Colonel ... " She started, looking severely irritated.

"Sam, staying would have pushed things into a rather ugly confrontation." Jack pointed out. "I don't know if you noticed, but Jim and Blair were both gearing up to kick our asses. Now, Blair might not look like much, but I think we've all learned not to assume anything? And yeah, we have Teal'c, but ... " Jim had been a Ranger, and even years retired, that made him someone Jack didn't want to tangle with if it could be avoided. He didn't doubt their ability to defeat Jim and company, but why go there if they didn't have to? "Besides, we're not exactly going to be letting them walk away." He gave Sam a smirk. "You got your laptop with you?" He wanted to know.

Like she went anywhere without the damn thing. "Of course." She grabbed it, understanding where Jack had been going with that question. Then she frowned. While powerful and heavily encrypted, her laptop didn't have anywhere near the power or speed of the base computers. "You're calling the General, right?" Considering she'd caught him halfway through dialing the base, Jack just grinned at her. "Call me a cab so I can head back to base. My laptop's good, but the base computers are better. I'll call you when I've got what we need."

"Leave me your laptop, would you, Sam? I want to look some stuff up." Daniel asked. Sentinels weren't his area of interest, though he'd encountered mentions of people with enhanced senses (though never called Sentinels as such) in tribal lore more than once. Confirming Blair's claims would help establish their bona fides, and if Blair had been as interested in the phenomenon as he said he was, there might be a paper trail he could follow from the academic angle while Sam tracked down other information.

"Sure." Sam handed over her laptop.

Jack, meanwhile, was having a quiet conversation with Hammond, who was understandably displeased with the situation. "Tell Janet, and see if you can get Thor on the horn. Whatever else is going on, there's something definitely wrong with Jon." He told Hammond. "Which is why I backed off rather than force a confrontation. If they move, we'll follow, but I doubt they're going to actually move. Ellison's military, so he's got to know."

Hammond sighed. "I'll trust your judgment, Jack, but get this dealt with fast. There's only so long I can stall before I have to inform certain parties, and you know that'll bring in more trouble." Like the NID. "I want hourly updates." Though Hammond didn't actually say it, the 'miss a call and I send in the cavalry' was rather blatantly obvious. "I'll have one of the larger teams on standby, just in case they do move."

Jack agreed, then hung up and called Sam a cab. It arrived a few minutes later, and she left for the mountain. Now all they had to do was sit back and watch.

Jon's Apartment

Of course, Jim having been military, he was well aware that Jack was unlikely as hell to just traipse off on Jim's say-so. He didn't need Sentinel hearing to figure that one out, though he did eavesdrop shamelessly so he knew exactly what they'd be dealing with ... if Jack was going to call in the cavalry and storm the place, Jim wanted to know. Fortunately, Jack seemed to be content with a 'wait and watch' approach.

"Ok, they're just hanging out, waiting to see what we're up to." Jim told the others.

Jon gave an amused snort. He could have told Jim that, but it would lead to awkward questions as to how he could be so certain of Jack's actions and responses, so he didn't say anything about it, just came back out of his room with a small duffel bag (in case they really did leave at some point). "So ... you guys were explaining about Sentinels before they busted in here?"

"Right." Blair said, quickly getting settled on the couch. He started to explain the whole thing ... well, what he knew of it anyway. Despite better than a decade of personal research on the subject, Blair hadn't been able to find much about Sentinels, as most of the ancient tribes that had been host to a Sentinel didn't have a written history, and verbal tales got ... enhanced ... over time, so everything in a verbally-handed-down story had to be taken with about a pound of salt. The only things that Blair had been able to corroborate was that Sentinels seemed to always come into their gifts before physical adulthood, the majority of them before they hit their teens. They all also needed a Guide in order to function successfully. Sentinels and Guides also had spirit animals. Everything beyond that was wild supposition and/or guesswork ... only a small fraction of which had either been confirmed or denied in the last year with Jim.

Jon perked up at the mention of spirit animals ... less because he was thrilled they existed and more because it was a relief to think that him seeing a honking great leopard hadn't been him going flying over the deep edge. "Spirit animal? Wouldn't happen to be a leopard now, would it?" He asked.

"They're different for everyone." Blair explained. "Mine's a wolf, Jim's is a black jaguar, and Xander's is a spotted hyena." Xander couldn't restrain an annoyed grimace. It would be a long, long time before he was anywhere near comfortable with his spirit animal. "And they show up in dreams, and sometimes when you're awake ... generally when something big and/or dangerous is going down." Blair continued. "So if you see yours around, pay attention. If Jim and I had ignored ours a while back, Xander'd be dead now."

That was pretty much the only thing Jon needed to hear to take the whole spirit animal thing seriously. He might think it was a bit crazy ... ok, more than a bit ... but after seven years plus of crazy, he could deal, and despite his older half's habitual whinging and blatant pretending otherwise, he knew better than to write off or ignore things that seemed insane and/or impossible. "So I'm gonna need to hang out with Xander for ... what, the rest of my life, then?"

Xander was surprised that Jon didn't sound pissed-off and/or bitter about essentially being hog-tied to someone he didn't know in order to stay sane. Jim was as well. "You're taking this better than I did when Blair explained it to me." Jim told him.

Jon shrugged. He couldn't exactly explain why he was ok with it without shattering confidentiality into billions of irreparable pieces. "My life is defined by weird." He told them instead. "This is barely a blip on my radar."

Jim was smart enough not to ask why. Whatever the hell was the deal with Jack and 'Murray' and company, Jon was in on it. At some point, there'd have to be some explaining, on both sides, but not yet.

Cheyenne Mountain

Sam, after some six hours of nonstop work, finally sat back away from her computer, contemplating the information she'd put together for a moment before she called Jack.

"Colonel? I've got the information you wanted." She said into the phone when Jack answered. "Ellison's the real deal. Solid and incorruptible as they come, if his record's any indication. Blair's is more eclectic. He's been on every continent save Antarctica, mostly with his mother when he was a kid. Smart enough to give Daniel and I a run for our money ... he was in college at sixteen." She continued with a more detailed run-down of both men's lives up to now.

"And the kid?" Jack wanted to know.

"More or less a massive blank. There's almost nothing in the system about his hometown, except that it exists, and its census numbers. The latter of which I had to dig pretty damn far to find. Birth certificate for the kid under Alexander Harris, and school reports up to last year. Fairly bright ... not Blair's level, but better than average in most areas, if only just, going by his grades and the classes he's in. Only other thing we've got is a file on him with the LAPD. Poor kid was evidently kidnapped and roughed up ... explains the splints and remnants of bruising. Hospital records corroborate that ... whatever the hell happened, it was ugly. Kid got torn up pretty bad. Here's where it gets weird, though. Ellison and Sandburg are the ones that found him. They were on a layover between flights, heading back to Cascade from Peru ... I'm still digging to find out why ... and evidently decided to take a drive while they waited."

Jack frowned, though Sam couldn't see it. That was odd, and very serendipitous timing. Not even his strong suspicion that Jim was a Sentinel explained that. Could it have been a setup of some sort? Jack shook that thought away almost immediately, remembering Jim putting himself between Xander and SG-1. No ... whatever was going on there, Jim hadn't set the kid up for something. "Thanks Sam ... lemme know if you dig anything else up."

"Will do, Colonel." Sam said, then hung up. She eyed the screen again. What she'd found out had her thinking that things were actually ok. Jim was ... well, a lot like Jack, actually. Both were sarcastic, bullheaded Alpha males, for one. And both took duty deadly seriously, any verbal snarkery aside. The number of people who would have even tried to complete their given mission under the circumstances Jim had found himself in was incredibly small ... that he succeeded, and held the area against drug runners for a year and a half with nothing but native tribesmen and their weapons for assistance was right up there with some of the feats that SG-1 had pulled off in her mind.

Half an hour later, the final bits of information had finally come through, and Sam was staring at the computer in disbelieving confusion. Jim was Xander's father? From the hospital and LAPD reports, this had only come to light after the kid had been in the hospital for a day. Jim had immediately gotten himself set up as Xander's guardian, which ran all sorts of red flags for Sam, and had resulted in her investigating Xander's other parents. There was almost as little information on them as there had been on Xander. Jessica had the most, with a full file from birth to her early twenties, at which point she'd moved to Sunnydale and completely fallen off the radar. Xander's apparent stepfather (there were no adoption records) was as big a mystery as Xander himself ... only a birth certificate, high school diploma, and marriage license proved he existed. The speed with which Jessica had agreed to let Jim 'have' Xander pointed to either abuse or blackmail, and Sam was leaning more towards the former than the latter.

She passed that information on to Jack, and to Hammond, and let the two of them decide what they were going to do about it.

At about that time, Daniel had finally dug up all the information he could in academic circles regarding both Sentinels and Blair. He found himself very much confused by it, and eventually, they had a conference call with both Sam and Hammond, trying to make sense of the information they'd put together.

"There's virtually nothing about Sunnydale or its residents in any database." Sam said. "I've got a birth certificate for Xander and Tony Harris, a high school diploma and marriage license for Tony as well as a handful of school reports for Xander ... and that's it. No medical, nothing specific. Even Jessica seems to have dropped off the face of the planet once she moved there ... there's her marriage to Tony, and nothing else. Only thing that put Xander back on the radar was getting kidnapped and dragged to LA. Whoever snatched him really worked him over."

"They don't know who?" Jack asked.

"No ... apparently, Xander doesn't remember anything about the attack. It's not all that unusual, especially since he apparently got hit over the head fairly hard at least once." Sam told them.

"And they think Jon's a Sentinel."

"Yes. He can't be, though ... or you'd be one." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, I know, but how do we explain that to them?"

Hammond finally spoke up. "We may have to ... educate them ... if it can be proved that Sentinels truly exist. We cannot dismiss the possibility that something Loki did forced Jon into being a Sentinel."

"I think we can prove they do exist, sir ... Jim knew that Teal'c wasn't exactly what he looked like. Kept demanding to know what Teal'c was." Jack pointed out.

"Which would indicate he could tell that Teal'c's internal structure isn't the same as a human's." Hammond said.

"Jim won't be a risk. He was a Ranger. He knows the drill. Blair ought to be ok as well. Our biggest worry is going to be Xander. He's just a kid, and kids talk." Jack pointed out.

"If his home life is anything like I suspect it might have been, Colonel, he's more mature than his age would suggest. He's also fairly bright." Sam said. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Any chance we can get them to work for us?" Hammond asked.

"Seriously doubtful, sir. Ellison was betrayed by a superior ... he's not going to want to risk that again, I don't think. Jon and Xander might possibly be recruited, but we'd run into the problem of Jack and Jon being under the same roof all the time." Sam said. Jack and Jon were highly uncomfortable around each other, rather understandably ... and besides, Jon needed to build a life separate from Jack's, and this might be the way to do it.

"Very well. They're still in place? I'll be there in half an hour, and we can discuss things with them." Hammond said, and the call ended.

Jon's Apartment

It was just as well that SG-1 hadn't extrapolated Jim's ability to 'hear' the differences in Teal'c's body at close range with an ability to hear conversations at a distance. Jim was having a lot of fun eavesdropping.

"There's someone called Hammond coming in about a half hour to tell us about things." He told Jon. "Want to run a few things by us and blow their minds?"

Jon was severely tempted to do so ... but decided against it. "Nah, just hit 'em with what you overheard when they show up." He said. "They're probably on their way to explain a few things that you picked up on anyway, especially with you wanting to haul me out of here."

"Why do they get a say in where you go?" Xander wanted to know.

"Going to have to wait for them to get here for the explanation to that one." Jon said. "But to put your minds at ease, Hammond is solid as they come. He's backed his people to the hilt from day one, against some pretty heavy odds." This was said more to Jim than the others, though the others would benefit from the knowledge. "The other four are ... well, they're good people." Then, with typical Jack-style mischief, he grinned at the other three. "Let's call out for dinner. It'll arrive about the time Hammond does."

Blair and Xander liked that idea, grinning widely. Jim was only slightly less enthusiastic. The call was made for some pizza, Jon using his knowledge of the people that would be arriving to arrange for pizzas they'd all like. That done, they sat back to wait.

Jim didn't bother asking how Jon knew so much about this Hammond, or why Jack and Jon seemed to be so intertwined in everyone's minds. Clearly, the answer would come, or not, in half an hour. Xander and Blair, of course, were nowhere near as sanguine about the whole thing. Blair paced around for a good ten minutes before Jim grabbed him by the collar and good-naturedly pushed him towards the couch. "Chief, you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

Blair huffed, but then relented with a grin. "Right, sorry. Just nervous."

Jim understood that. He was nervous too ... he was just a lot better at hiding it. He was not at all happy to be dealing with the military again, especially when the folks they were dealing with had 'heavy opposition'. That did not make Jim a happy camper at all, as he was realist enough to know that if the wrong people found out about his senses, he'd be in some very deep trouble very quickly.

Finally, Jim heard a vehicle arrive. He cocked his head and then grinned. "Sounds like your Hammond beat the pizzas here." He said. "They're on their way up."

One good look at Hammond, who led the group up to Jon's apartment (though not after some strenuous objecting from Jack) did much to reassure Jim of at least this one man's level of honesty versus corruption. Whether it was his senses filling him in or just experience, Jim didn't know or really care, but Hammond gave off the air of someone who genuinely cared for the people under his command and did his utmost to see to their well-being.

Hammond, for his part, gave the odd little group a once-over, noting much the same things as Jack and company had seen. Not that he distrusted their judgment, but it was nice to have it verified by his own eyes. A faint smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "At ease, son." He rather doubted that Jim was even aware that he had instinctively straightened up into something remarkably close to 'at attention'. "It seems we have a bit of an odd situation on our hands here, gentlemen. And one that requires a good bit of explanation, on both sides. I suggest we get to it." The quirk became a full smile when Jim automatically relaxed in reaction to Hammond's 'order'. You could take the man out of the military, but taking the military out of the man didn't always work, even under the circumstances Jim had left the military.

There weren't anything like enough seats for everyone ... there was barely room enough in the small space for the nine people there now as it was, but Hammond took a kitchen chair while Xander, Blair, and Jim shared the couch, with Jon lounging at Xander's feet, feeling oddly unwilling to leave Xander exposed to ... danger? That thought didn't make a damn bit of sense to Jon, given that he knew SG-1 was about as dangerous to Xander as a wet paper towel, but there was a part of him that was insisting that Xander needed to be protected. It made no damn sense, but there you go.

Jack propped himself against a wall, with Sam next to him. Teal'c guarded the door while Daniel joined Jon on the floor, completely unselfconscious thanks to years of doing similar things in his work contacting the various populations (human and otherwise) among the stars.

Before they could do much more than get situated, the pizzas arrived. Xander and Jon both snickered at the looks on SG-1's faces when the pizzas proved to be their favorites. Jack shot Jon a look that was somewhere between disgust and amusement.

"Figured everyone might be hungry after spying on us for hours." Jim said, not quite able to keep the smug look off his face.

Hammond, well used to such hijinks, just shook his head in amusement as everyone grabbed some food. He abstained for the moment, instead pulling some papers out of the briefcase he'd brought with him.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to need you to sign these. They're nondisclosure forms. Everything we discuss tonight is not to be repeated to anyone except those in this room, or anyone we." He indicated SG-1 and himself. "Introduce you to."

Jim didn't so much as blink at the forms, but gave Hammond a look. "It goes both ways." It wasn't a question, or even a comment. It was a demand, backed by a level glare. "You tell no one. I don't care what smoke-and-mirrors job you have to pull with the Pentagon or whoever the hell it is you report to, but you never so much as mention our names. I find out you have, and the four of us will disappear without a trace." Jim had the skill and contacts to pull it off without resorting to Blair's contacts, but adding everyone around the world that Blair knew thanks to his and his mother's travels ... yeah. There'd be no finding the four of them if they went to ground. At least, not by conventional, earth-bound means of searching, but Jim didn't know SG-1 had access to other means of finding them.

To his credit, Hammond took the comment as seriously as it was meant. He'd shielded Teal'c for the last seven years, against people who'd known who and what and where he was. Protecting Jim and the others, when pretty much no one had any idea that Jim was anything special (if Jack was right and Jim was a Sentinel), or where they were at, would be far easier. "You have my word, Captain." Using Jim's old military rank to indicate it was a promise soldier to soldier.

Jim nodded his acceptance, and signed the forms. Blair was quick to follow. Xander took a bit longer, but that was more due to the splints he was still wearing making maneuvering awkward, rather than any reluctance to promise not to spill the beans. That done, they got down to business, with Blair explaining about Sentinels and Guides as he had for Jon, though this time he got interrupted repeatedly by Sam and Daniel, wanting nitty-gritty details. Unfortunately, in many cases, Blair just didn't have them. Finally, Blair wound down, and Jim gave Hammond a look.

At which point Hammond gave Jim and company an exceedingly bare-bones explanation of what SG-1 was and what they did, and who Jon was ... and even then, he only told them what they absolutely needed to know to understand Jon, and their interest in him. Which more or less amounted to 'there are aliens. Teal'c is one. SG-1 plays meet-and-greet. An alien decided to play Frankenstein with Jack's DNA, and Jon is the result'.

When all was said and done, Xander leaned over to give Jon a look. "And here I thought my life had got weird in the last year. You're going to fit right in in Sunnydale." He grinned.

"Why is that?" Sam wanted to know. "What's so special about that town? We couldn't find out much about it."

At which point it became Xander's turn to give a rundown of what's what. Sam openly scoffed at him ... at least until Jim and Blair both backed him up about vampires at least, having met Angel. She eventually had to admit that Angel's description did not fit any alien they'd met so far.

Daniel and Blair got into an enthusiastic discussion about Sentinels, aliens, demons and witchcraft and how the heck it all went together, as well as a heated debate about why Jon was a Sentinel but Jack wasn't. Sam, after her initial scoff at the existence of demons, began to chime in with her opinions as well. Jack, who'd very nearly gone nuclear when Xander explained about Sunnydale (mostly because he admitted that he and a few other teens were fighting the baddies, and kids in the line of fire was a major sore spot), eventually calmed down and watched Blair, Daniel, and Sam geek out with tolerant amusement.

Jon had been initially as upset as Jack, of course, but the more he thought about things, the happier he became. He'd known for a while now that the whole high-school thing wasn't even beginning to work, and that he needed something he could do ... he'd spent entirely too long being a 'man of action'. Sitting on his ass doing nothing was, at this late date, anathema. If he went to Sunnydale ... he'd be part of a team again. Protecting the world, again. And out from under Jack's shadow completely, able to (more or less) become his own person. And it sounded like Xander and company could use the help.

Jon shot a look at Jack, then at Hammond. "I'm going." He said, his voice cutting across the din from the geeks over in the corner.

Jack frowned. "You sure? I thought ... "

"Jack ... high school was a mistake. I can't figure out what the hell I ... we ... were thinking, agreeing with that. I may look sixteen, but ... well, shit. You know how low of a boredom threshold we have." Jon said.

To which Jack had to agree. And as he thought about it ... high school, again, would definitely end up being deadly boring. He was nowhere near as dumb as he liked to pretend he was, and with a couple of Masters' degrees under his belt, high=school-level scholastics would be ... agonizing. "Fair enough." He admitted.

Jon shot Xander a look over his shoulder, then looked at Jack again. "Y'think Frasier could give Xander here a leg up?" He asked the room in general.

Hammond thought about it for all of half a second before nodding. "She could indeed." He agreed. There was the problem of them having to bring Xander into the base, but ... maybe they wouldn't have to. Another location, with Janet bringing her portable healing tools, might serve as well. And he understood where Jon was coming from. It would be months before Xander was healed enough to begin learning to defend himself if things were left to heal normally. If Xander was half as intent on returning to Sunnydale as he seemed, that was going to be completely unacceptable.

Besides, Janet would want to vet Xander herself. She was rather proprietary about the soldiers under her care in general and SG-1 in particular, and Jon was, if not a member of SG-1, as good as. "You'd still need physical therapy, son, but we have access to ways of speeding up the healing process considerably." Hammond told Xander.

Xander looked rather thrilled by that idea. He wanted no part of being stuck sitting on his butt for weeks or months, waiting for everything to heal enough for him to be of use again. "God, please, yes. As long as I don't have to sell you my soul or any such thing." Xander told them.

"Nothing like that. I'll give our medic a call and arrange things for tomorrow." Hammond said. "You'll be staying overnight?"

"That long for sure." Jim said with a nod.

"Very well then. We need to get going, as we have things that need to be dealt with." And lies to tell. Hammond would have a lot of work to cover this little jaunt up, but he was able for it.

Chapter Text

Healing and Helping Hands

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

June 22, Cheyenne Mountain

It was a good thing that Hammond had so much practice blowing smokescreens to buy SG-1 more time, or to camouflage some of their actions, or to protect Teal'c from less-than-benevolent types. It made coming up with a believable story regarding what SG-1 had been up to all the day before much, much easier.

Not that he was entirely sure everyone concerned bought the story, but then, they almost never did. The President had long ago learned to pretend that Hammond's reports were complete, factual, and hid nothing … for the sake of his own sanity, if nothing else. Worrying about what didn't get reported was a quick way to the loony bin. The NID, of course, was an entirely different matter, as was the much-despised Senator Kinnsey. There were days when Hammond wished that particular thorn would get clipped. Still, it would take them time to dig up the truth and then figure out what they wanted to do about it, and that was time that everyone wouldn't otherwise have.

Fortunately, he didn't have much time to worry about who would be trying to figure out what he hadn't reported, as Janet was prepping to go meet Xander and fix the poor kid up so he wouldn't have to spend the next two months in splints and unable to lift more than five pounds thanks to his abdomen being torn to heck and gone, and he had to prepare yet another smokescreen to explain her absence from the base. At least this time he had prior notice and could prepare the smokescreen ahead of time, rather than having to come up with something on the fly after the fact.

Even better, Thor had responded to Hammond's SOS. While Hammond had a hard time reading expressions on Thor's face, he got the distinct impression Thor was both worried and very angry … worried about Jon, and angry at Loki. Hammond didn't envy Loki later on, if it ended up that Jon's difficulties were Loki's fault.

Arranging a secure place off-base for Janet, Samantha, Jack and Thor to meet up with Xander and company was easy enough … there were, after all, other bases in the area, and Hammond was able to commandeer a building at Peterson AFB for the day, and get it cleared of all other personnel. This way, at least, no one would see or hear something they really didn't need to. Thor could easily beam himself in and out of the building, so no one would see him coming or going, either. Samantha, as the only person on-base other than Teal'c who could use the Goa'uld healing device (and Hammond tried to keep Teal'c away from other military bases as much as was possible) would be going with Janet, since the healing device was the quickest, and most transportable, way to fix Xander's injuries, once Janet had reassured herself that the injuries the LA hospital had found and repaired were the only injuries Xander had. Unless, of course, Thor pre-empted them, but Hammond wasn't going to count on that eventuality. It was enough that they were imposing on Thor over the Jon problem.

Of course, that necessitated yet another smokescreen. Hammond gave a mental sigh. There were times when he wondered if SG-1 went out of their way to see just how many times in a week they could give him heartburn (since he couldn't exactly earn gray hairs anymore). Hammond gave a small smile as he contemplated the next year or so. His official retirement was only a matter of time. He'd been grooming Jack, on the sly, to take his place, both because Jack was the most capable for the job and because Jack was pretty much the only person Hammond could trust to take his place when the time came. Oh, other military commanders could do the job … on paper, at any rate. But dealing with the SGC necessitated a far more … flexible … frame of mind than most people possessed. Not only would they have to deal with aliens pretty much every day in some capacity, they'd be faced with situations that the rulebook writers never dreamed of in their wildest nightmares, where the tried-and-true rules of the military just were not going to work, and forcing those rules on the situation would only lead to complete disaster.

The SGC also needed someone at the helm that was willing to fight for it against the sometimes heavy opposition in both the US government and abroad. While Jack would hate the paperwork, he was ideal in every other particular … he was unorthodox enough to take pretty much everything in stride, willing to bend, mutilate, break, or just outright ignore the rules when the situation demanded, and the good alone knew he'd fight to the death to protect the people under his command. If there was one thing Earth's enemies had learned over the last seven years, it was the fact that hurting or kidnapping any of SG-1 earned them the wrath of one Jack O'Neill (and the rest of the team, besides). Most folks didn't make the same mistake twice, as learning that lesson was inevitably rather painful.

Besides, Hammond considered it just repayment for the headaches Jack had given him over the last seven years to put Jack in a position where he'd be the one getting the headaches. That Jack seemed completely unaware that he was being groomed for Hammond's job was one of Hammond's few amusements. He'd long since made due mental note to have someone with a camera present when he finally retired and Jack was promoted to Hammond's position. Jack's reaction ought to be rather amusing.

June 22, Peterson AFB

Xander and Jon had spent much of the morning working on controlling Jon's sensory dials, as well as indulging in general 'getting to know you' chatter. Not that either of them had touched, yet, on the uglier issues and incidents in their pasts yet, of course, but they both quickly discovered that they had a surprising amount in common when it came to personality and temperament.

Blair, since he never traveled anywhere with Jim without bringing certain items (to help deal with sensory issues) had given Jon some lotion that Jim had to use whenever coming in contact with clothing or bedding that hadn't been washed by himself or Blair was unavoidable. The lotion helped heal and soothe the inevitable resulting rashes, and helped to at least delay the onset of the rashes, if he thought to apply it before contact.

Jon was, as a result, a good deal more comfortable, now that the rash that peppered more than half his skin was, if not healed, then definitely soothed. Xander had made due mental note to invest in a supply of the stuff himself. The practice with control had also, much to Jon's relief, seemed to strengthen his ability to keep the 'dials' where they belonged. At least for now, he didn't feel like the damn things were half a second from slipping out of his control if his attention wandered in the slightest.

The thing Jon found weird (and that was saying something, considering!), was that throughout the morning, he'd found himself paying a level of attention to Xander that made him squirm mentally. Unless he was actively trying to concentrate on something else, every sense seemed to automatically fixate on Xander. Worse, he found himself wanting to … crowd the kid. Sit really close, all that jazz. It was just as well that he was used to weird shit, or he'd be freaking out right about now.

Now, though, they were headed for Peterson AFB, and the appointment with Janet, Sam, and, apparently, Thor. Jon was looking forward to seeing Thor. He liked the little guy, and the feeling was mutual. Xander had piled into the SUV next to him, and was muttering under his breath, a constant stream of sound that Jon found himself concentrating to hear. It took him a good five minutes to realize that as a result, he was more or less ignoring the mass quantities of sensory information coming at him during the drive.

Sneaky kid. Jon approved wholeheartedly. He didn't really understand, despite Blair's explanations, why he was, apparently instinctively prioritizing any and all sensory information that came from Xander, but whatever the reasons behind it, it was working to keep him from getting overwhelmed, so he was cool with it. Since Jim didn't seem to be doing the same thing, Jon supposed it was because he'd only just met Xander, and with the whole Guide thing (which Jon did understand, at least on some level), he needed to 'learn' Xander's sensory baseline. It made more sense than any other explanation Jon could come up with, anyway.

Hammond met them at the gate, and they were waved through. Shortly after that, they arrived at the building, a small airplane hangar, that Hammond had commandeered for Xander's checkup and fix-up, and they drove the SUV right inside.

Janet had set herself up a miniature, mobile infirmary against one wall, complete with two beds and more diagnostic equipment than Jon could believe was truly mobile. Jack was leaning against the wall nearby, but staying out of the way, and Sam was helping Janet arrange the last few things Janet had brought that she'd thought she needed. The moment Xander and Jon were clear of the SUV, Janet pointed at the beds.

"Up, now, both of you." She commanded.

Jon automatically obeyed. Jack had learned, long ago, to not ever defy Janet, unless he wanted to spend an inordinate amount of time getting poked with very big needles in revenge. Xander needed Jim's assistance to get up on the bed, as he was incapable of hoisting himself up onto it, thanks to his still-splinted arms.

Janet had just started examining Xander when there was a flash of bright white light. Despite being abruptly essentially blind, Jon found himself off the bed he'd been on and between Xander and the source of the flash. Janet's outraged objection half a second after he roughly shoved someone he couldn't precisely see at the time away from Xander in an instinctive effort to protect him told him who he'd shoved away, and then Xander's hand was on his shoulder, and Jon was able to, after a minute or two, get his vision back online. He swiftly discovered that he wasn't the only one who'd put himself between a Guide and perceived danger. Jim had Blair tucked behind him, despite Blair's continuing attempts to evade that, and was staring down Thor like he wanted to kill him.

Thor, of course, seemed to be completely unconcerned, either because he didn't realize that Jim was contemplating his murder or because he knew his technology would stop Jim long before Jim succeeded, Jon wasn't sure which.

It was Xander that broke the stalemate. Now that Jon was more or less ok, Xander actually had time to look to see what the source of the trouble was. He got one good look at Thor and started laughing his ass off, literally falling back onto the bed and pretty much howling with amusement. Jack and Jon both started to snicker a little, well aware of the source of Xander's hilarity. Hell, Jack had found the fact that the Asguard were dead ringers for the 'Roswell aliens' freaking hysterically funny, once his mind had been his own again, after that first encounter. Even Sam started to grin a little. Jim was still in full-on protective mode, so he wasn't grinning or anything. Blair, on the other hand, looked like he was about to explode with questions, eyes wide as he stared at Thor.

It took Xander a minute or two to get himself under control. Eventually, the laughter trailed off to scattered giggles, and Xander managed to sit back up.

"Sorry, sorry!" He said, waving one hand a little. "Just … wasn't expecting this."

Hammond's mouth twitched with amusement. "Understandable, son." He told Xander. "This is Thor." Hammond didn't include Thor's titles. The less Xander and company knew, the better. It was just plain safer that way. "He's the one that helped Jon a few months back. Hopefully he'll be able to tell us if what's going on is what you think it is, or something else. And why it's happening." Then he turned to Thor. "Thor, this is Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg, and Alexander Harris."

Thor nodded to them. "I am pleased to meet you." He told them, then turned to Jon. "If you would hold still for a moment, please." And then he ran some sort of doohickey (Jon had no idea what it was or what it did) up and down Jon's body a couple times, then blinked at the results. "Most intriguing. This is entirely unexpected."

Janet, who'd gone back to checking Xander over, turned her head to look at Thor. "Is that good news, or bad?" She wanted to know.

Thor didn't answer immediately, perhaps not quite understanding what Janet meant. After a few moments, however, he finally spoke again. "It would seem that a dormant factor in O'Neill's genetic structure was activated by natural conditions." He finally said. "The Asguard have files that record this genetic anomaly in a small number of your race in the past, but we were never able to map it in its entirety due to the rarity of the condition. We were able to find individuals who already had the condition, but discovering individuals who had the genetic anomaly that allowed the condition but had not yet begun to exhibit the condition proved to be impossible. We were able to discover, however, that the condition could only be brought on by certain conditions, namely a period of time with a marked lack of sensory input."

By this point, Blair was bouncing a good foot off the ground in his effort to not start interrogating Thor. It ended up being a losing battle.

"So you studied Sentinels? How much did you find out? You said it was genetic? Did you ever examine any Guides?" The questions spilled out of him in a rapid-fire assault that had Jim shaking his head in tolerant amusement.

Thor took the questions in stride. "Sentinels? This is the name that has been given to the condition? Then yes, we were able to examine a number of individuals, many of your years in the past. Yes, it is genetic, but we were unable to discover how or why the anomaly occurred, and were eventually forced to presume it was a natural mutation of your species' genetic structure." He paused for a moment, then, regarding Blair. "I do not know what you refer to when you speak of Guides, however."

That resulted in Blair explaining the whole Guide phenomenon. Thor was, to be blunt, utterly fascinated. "Intriguing." He finally said. "And no, we were, and are, completely unaware of this phenomenon. It would explain why the subjects we examined became completely unstable so quickly. And I believe I can answer the question as to why these 'Sentinels' have become so rare. Before Ra was driven from this planet, he became aware of the existence of 'Sentinels', thanks to these individuals being able to detect, and arrange for the death, of a number of very junior Goa'uld under his command, as well as a number of Jaffa. They apparently arranged a number of ambushes in the early stages of the revolt against Ra. Ra commanded that every subject suspected of the condition be killed."

Blair winced. "Which would have wiped out quite a lot of them, and ensured they couldn't pass on the genes that made them Sentinels in the first place." He said. "Though obviously, it didn't stop it entirely."

Thor nodded in agreement. "Shortly after that, Ra was driven from the planet by the general populace, so 'Sentinels' were not wiped out completely."

"And the fact that there needs to be a period of sensory deprivation at least partially explains why I never became one of these Sentinels." Jack said. "Especially if the deprivation has to happen prior to a certain point in the person's growth to adulthood." He had never faced a period of sensory deprivation that would have the potential to bring on the senses until his capture in Iraq when he was in his early twenties.

By that point, Janet had finally finished examining Xander to her standards, and finally turned to Sam. "Arms and torso." She told Sam. "Fortunately, nothing is really severe, and it has all started healing already, so it shouldn't take much to finish the job." She turned back to Xander. "Go ahead and lie back. It'll make it easier."

Xander willingly complied, and Sam, wearing the healing device, and an expression of ferocious concentration, as while she had enough naquadah in her blood to operate the thing, it wasn't exactly something that came naturally or easily, started running the thing slowly over Xander's upper body. Everyone else fell quiet while she worked, not willing to disturb her concentration and run the risk of fouling up Xander's healing. About five minutes later, Sam finally relaxed and stepped back.

"That ought to do it." She told Janet, who immediately began to run more diagnostics to check. A few minutes later, she smiled at Xander. "Well, according to all of this, you're now completely healed. I think we can remove those splints now." She said, and immediately began to remove them. "You are, however, still very weak, and are going to need some physical therapy to rebuild muscle tone and strength."

Xander, who was pleased beyond measure just by the fact that he no longer hurt (even the pain pills hadn't been entirely able to blot out the ouchies), never mind that he was apparently all better now, gave Janet and Sam both a shit-eating grin. "Physical therapy I can handle." He said. "Thanks for doing this. I was so not looking forward to another couple months of essentially being helpless." He eyed the healing device. "Any chance you can teach me how to work that thing, and let us borrow it for a while? That thing would come in very handy." Sure, Buffy seemed to heal fast from any cuts and bruises she got, but he, Willow and Giles for darn sure didn't.

Sam grinned at him. "Sorry, but only certain people can use this. And even if anyone could use it, we can't exactly let civilians have it. Way too much risk."

Xander'd figured as much, but it hadn't hurt to ask. "Damn. Figures. Oh well. Had to at least ask!" He slid down off the bed, not quite able to resist the temptation to test his range of movement, and grinned when he was able to twist and turn (even if he did it very carefully) without so much as a twinge of pain. "Much, much better." He sighed in relief. "Thank you."

After that, now that both Jon and Xander had been examined and given clean bills of health, everyone headed off, Thor first in another flash of light. At least this time, Jon was able to anticipate Thor's exit, and managed to both close his eyes and turn away before Thor flashed out. Jim, Blair, Xander and Jon left next, leaving Janet, Jack, Sam and Hammond behind as they needed to pack up Janet's equipment and supplies and let the base know they could have their hangar back.

Xander and company got back to Jon's apartment and Jon packed up his clothes. They'd be leaving for Cascade in the morning.

Chapter Text

Getting To Know You

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Despite the title, folks, we're finally out of the meet-n-greet stage, and other things begin to happen. Yay!

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June 23, Cascade

They arrived back in Cascade well after the usual dinner time, feeling rather exhausted. Well, Xander and Jon didn't have much energy, anyway. It'd be a few weeks before Xander's stamina recovered, and Jon was still in somewhat shaky shape thanks to a couple of weeks of out-of control senses. Xander made sure Jon applied the lotion to all his rashes again before they collapsed onto Xander's futon. The loft was definitely getting crowded, but fortunately they were only a couple days out from being able to move into the larger apartment on the first floor.

Blair was the only one making much noise, but that was due to him getting everyone drinks and getting their luggage tucked somewhere out of the way while they waited for the delivery of their dinner.

If Xander or Jon had stopped to think about it, they'd both have gotten just a bit wigged out about how comfortable they felt with each other, like they'd known each other and been friends all their lives. Thankfully, neither one of them was thinking about things like that at the moment. Actually, Jon was mostly thinking about Sunnydale, and wanting to go there to get a feel for the town. Find out where the trouble spots were, where the demons (and that thought just sort of snuck in there) tended to hang out, which ones were bad news (all of them was his vote), that sort of thing. His mind was already dancing with half-formed plans for defense and offense. It was equal parts a lifetime of training in the Air Force and Spec Ops, and Sentinel instincts that was driving that line of thought.

Xander was, ironically enough, thinking along similar lines, though his thoughts were more concerned with himself, getting back into shape and learning to defend himself from nasties than they were with general, town-wide stuff. He was also contemplating Jon, and just how little he knew about the guy even now, though the whole 'clone of a fifty-plus man' thing sucked big hairy fat ones. Seriously. That had to kind of screw with Jon's mind a lot. Well, Sunnydale would distract him from the suckiness quickly enough, that was for sure.

Shortly after they arrived, Jim pulled Jon aside to talk for a little while. Xander glanced at Blair.

"Why do I think we're both of us going to live to regret that?" He asked.

"Because they're not only both of them Sentinels, but they're both military, and special forces military at that." Blair said. "And because Jim's got it in his head that you need to be as trained as it's possible to get you in the next couple months in order to survive Sunnydale. And he's probably going to drag me into it, because the good only knows I've gotten into some hairy spots over the last year."

"We're doomed." Xander said, sighing melodramatically, which made Blair laugh.

"At least they'll have to go slow at first, thanks to you being only just healed up." Blair pointed out. "And there's not enough time for either of them to get it into their heads to, well, give you the benefit of all their training, if you know what I mean."

Xander was afraid he did. He had no idea what sort of training special forces types got in the military, but his overactive brain was coming up with all sorts of scary scenarios.

If either of them had known exactly what Jon and Jim were up to, they'd both of them have run for cover.

"So." Jim said as he parked himself on a bench. He'd taken Jon to a nearby park where they could talk without being overheard, especially since it was after dark. Technically they really shouldn't have been there, but no one was going to question Jim too closely. He was a cop, after all. "Xander wants to go to Sunnydale, and you've agreed to it. Which means we need to get him up to some sort of speed so he stands half a chance of surviving that mess."

Jon snorted as he sat down beside Jim. "Tell me about it. I've got vague plans for dealing with that place running already, but I don't know enough about the town to come up with something concrete. I'll get a better idea once I've scouted the place." He fully planned on at least trying to guilt some SGC weaponry out of the older half, if nothing else.

Jim snorted in amused agreement. You could take the man out of the military, but almost never the other way around. "Right, that leaves us with figuring out what to teach the kid while you're both here."

"No martial arts." Jon said almost instantly. "Except maybe Krav Maga. Everything else is just about worthless, at least against what he'll be facing." Krav Maga was all about ending the threat as fast and efficiently as possible, by whatever means necessary. Other martial arts, while effective in self-defense, played 'nicely'. That is, they had rules of engagement, and things you weren't to do because it wasn't sporting. Krav Maga didn't give a shit.

"Agreed." Jim said. "And Krav Maga has the additional benefit of teaching folks to use anything at hand to kick ass and take names." Which was a very good thing when you're up against something that's trying its level best to kill you. Other martial arts focused on made-to-purpose weapons, not how to use whatever happened to be lying around. "So we teach him to handle knives, staffs, billy clubs, that sort of thing."

"And guns." Jon's voice was hard and tight. "I doubt they'll ever actually use any, because they're all underage, but they need to know how to handle them if they come across them."

"A modified SERE course wouldn't hurt, either." Jim wisely ignored the sudden tension in Jon's voice. There was a story there, he was sure, but he wasn't going to pry. Not his business. "So he doesn't freak out of he ever gets grabbed by something that doesn't eat him right away again. And it'll teach him to be able to handle himself in the woods if he needs to." Jim snorted. "And I just might drag Blair into all this as well. He's going to end up needing it. Hell, he's already needed it, and not had it."

Jon nodded. "We're going to have to do most of this after dark. He mentioned that's when the bogies come out to hunt, which means that's when he and his friends are running around. Teaching him to do this in the light of day only won't do him any favors."

Jim nodded in agreement. "I think we ought to try to get that gal friend of his, Willow, in on this. If they're going to be doing this, they need to be ready. And Buffy, though I've got the feeling she's already got some sort of training under her belt." There'd been something in the way she'd threatened to deal with Xander's attackers and the way she held herself that made him think she could back up the threat, despite her size.

"And it'll give him someone his age to grouse at about how mean we're being." Jon said with an amused snort. "Since you and I won't exactly be his favorite people at first."

Jim snorted in amused agreement. "There is that." He leaned back. "I plan on getting some stuff from the Army Surplus." Some good, sturdy boots, if there were any that weren't pre-worn. Maybe an old tac vest, so Xander could carry a bunch of stuff without having to worry about it too much. Definitely some knives. He'd have to see what was on offer.

"Good idea. At the very least, the stuff's built to take a beating." Jon agreed. "Which is more than can be said for civilian equipment.

"Better wait for all this until everything's moved. Thank goodness there's three rooms. We're going to be packing folks in, if we get both girls here." Jim said. While some part of him disliked the idea, having been a fairly solitary man until rather recently, there was another part of him that rather liked the idea … the Sentinel part. After all, way back when, tribe members had tended to live in fairly close quarters, and having his 'tribe' that close made it far easier for a Sentinel to protect them. Even if most of the group wasn't, in all actuality, his tribe, but Jon's.

Not that Jon was any less pleased than Jim about the idea. He definitely liked the idea of getting to know Willow and Buffy, whom he'd heard about, if only briefly. Giles … there was going to be a bit of friction there. Mostly because Jon thoroughly disapproved of the fact that the man hadn't even tried to teach Xander and Willow basic self defense when it became clear they were in the demon hunting business for keeps. That was just plain stupid on a level that generally got a lot of people needlessly killed, and Jon very much did not approve of it.

"We can use the basement of the building for a training area … most of it's not being used, so it wouldn't take much to get it set up over the next couple days." Jim continued. "Some mats and dummy weapons."

With a plan more or less set, the two men headed back to the loft.

"Xander, call those friends of yours in the morning. See if they're willing to come by, start of next week, to start training with you. No reason not to include them, and a whole ton or reasons supporting the idea." Jim said.

Xander cocked his head for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure Willow will be all for it. Buffy … is going to be a bit of a harder sell." Mostly because she was the Slayer, and not only did that gig come with the whole 'keep it secret' thing, it also came with heightened reflexes and extra strength, which she was understandably leery of letting loose with around normal people. But Xander figured Jim could handle it. And while Giles may have been training Buffy, he was no Army Ranger. Or Air Force Spec Ops, for that matter. Jim and Jon just had to have fighting skills that Giles simply didn't.

The next morning (Xander had insisted on taking the couch, now that he was healed up and they needed a fourth sleeping spot.), they all rolled out of bed, and then Xander made his calls.

June 27, Cascade

Xander waited until Jim and Blair went to work to call Buffy. Mostly because this conversation was going to bring up the whole Slayer thing, if only for the reason that Jim and Jon would need to be told about it, and he didn't want to get into that argument when Jim was in hearing range. Well, he hoped Jim wasn't still in hearing range clear at the precinct, anyway!

It took him the best part of an hour to convince Buffy, both of the necessity of telling Jim and Jon, and of the prudence in training with a couple of guys who knew some hardcore fighting skills. They might never have had to deal with demons, but Xander was very sure that Buffy could easily translate the moves to something she could use on any given demon. Willow had been far easier to convince. Xander's barely gotten the request out before she was agreeing. Both girls had agreed to arrive on the twenty-seventh, giving everyone in Cascade time to get everything moved.

The new apartment was mostly settled, with just a few boxes left to unpack. For the moment, Jim and Blair were rooming together, as were Xander and Jon, while Buffy and Willow got the third room. There wasn't much room to spare in each bedroom, but it'd do until the end of summer, when it would be reduced to just Jim and Blair again.

Now, Jim, Blair, Xander and Jon were at the airport. Jon was sticking very, very close to Xander, but that had more to do with the fact it'd been less than a week since they'd met and his senses weren't anywhere near under complete control yet, and this was a very, very … chaotic environment. Xander was making good use of his tendency to babble, and muttering under his breath in a constant stream of chatter that wasn't really aimed at anyone or any one subject, but that Jon was focusing on in an effort to hear what he was saying just in case he did say something important. It was a surprisingly effective way of blocking out the worst of the noise, at any rate, which reduced the amount of stress Jon was dealing with considerably.

And then the two girls were bulling their way through the crowds. Willow, spotting a splint-less Xander, temporarily forgot herself and the fact that he was injured, and damn near knocked him flat on his back when she jumped at him and hugged him. Half a second later, she realized what she thought was an error, and backed off, babbling a mile a minute.

"Relax, Willow. I'm fine. All healed up. Jim and Jon have some pretty awesome friends." Xander told them.

"So you're Jon?" Willow asked, eyeing Jon. Xander had filled her and Buffy in on that when he'd called them. Well, not the clone thing, but just that Jon was a Sentinel.

"Nice at meetcha." Jon offered a hand to both girls, luggage was gathered, and they all headed back to the apartment, Jon sighing in relief when they were finally clear of the worst of the racket from the airport.

Once the girls had put their stuff in their bedroom, Jim corralled everybody to the basement, where he'd set up a good-sized area to train in.

"Right. Everybody knows the deal with Sunnydale. Giles may have been ok with letting two of you not get some sort of defense training, but I'm not. So all three of you are going to be getting some serious training, so you've got a better chance at surviving that place. Jon and I're going to be teaching you as much as we can over the next couple months."

"Ummm." Buffy said. "Before you go getting all gung ho … Giles has been training me." She hesitated for a long moment, eyeing the room. "I'm the Slayer."

Jim didn't so much as blink at that news. "Well then, we'll start with you, see where you're at, since Xander and Willow are more or less going to have to start at the beginning."

Buffy grimaced. "I don't really think … "

Jim snorted. "I was a Ranger, Buffy. Trust me when I say I can handle you."

Buffy snorted. "Just remember you said that later."

That was the signal for everybody else to get clear of the area covered in mats. Both Buffy and Jim did some highly abbreviated stretching. Xander, watching them, could see both of them getting their game faces on. Well, he assumed that was Jim's game face, anyway. Buffy's he'd seen enough to recognize.

They circled each other for a bit before Buffy decided to try something. Her first few attacks were very tentative, as if she was deeply afraid of hurting Jim. Jim treated the half-assed attacks with the contempt they deserved, and aimed a far more brutal strike at Buffy's side. Blocking that seemed to kick the half-pint into gear, because she started coming at him faster and harder.

She was insanely fast. Beyond anything that a normal human could manage. She was also damn strong. Unfortunately, whatever training she had was for shit, because she really didn't quite seem to know what to do with either advantage. Sure, the hits she got in hurt like hell, but she wasted a lot of time and effort flailing around to no real purpose. She had the potential to be one seriously kick-ass fighter, though, if she'd accept instruction.

Jim finally called a halt to the spar. "Not bad, all things considered." He told her.

Buffy huffed. "Not bad?"

"You're stong, and insanely fast." Jim said. "And with the right training, you'd be a menace the likes of which nobody's seen in a long time, but whatever Giles has been teaching you, it's not doing you any good."

Buffy huffed. "All right then, Mr. Smarty Pants, if you know so much … "

Jim waved a finger at her. "None of that, girl. First thing's first, and this goes for all three of you. Kicking is a last resort. I may not be fast enough to grab Buffy's leg, but I'm betting there's demons out there who could, and I know I could catch a normal person trying to kick me. And if someone grabs your leg when it's in the air, you're up shit creek without a paddle. So keep the feet on the ground as much as possible. Second rule … aim for any weak spot you can find. Joints, eyes, and necks are always a good bet, even with critters that aren't human. Might not kill them but it will damn sure slow them down a lot. And that goes for vamps as well as the other stuff. A stake through the heart might be the traditional way to off the bastards, but there's always the chance of missing the heart. Slicing their heads off … is a far safer bet, and has the advantage of keeping you a bit further away from their teeth, since you have to get close to get the leverage needed to push something like a stake through someone's chest."

Well, that was common sensible enough, Xander thought.

"Third thing, you lot are going to hate me within the next few days. We're going to be working on a fitness regimen. And working a lot of nights, to get you all used to doing this sort of thing in the dark. Hopefully, by the time you go back to Sunnydale, you'll be a force to be reckoned with."

Xander could quite easily get behind that, even if he'd hate getting there.

Chapter Text

Training Blues

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Giles is NOT a bad guy. He just unfortunately only has Watcher-approved training methods to train Buffy with.

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August 1, Cascade

Xander hated Jim. Loathed him. Despised him. Willow agreed with him wholeheartedly, and even Buffy had gotten more than a bit grumpy lately.

Every evening, just after dusk, they all got dragged out of the apartment and worked over. First was a trip outside, to stretch. Then, depending on the night, one of several things happened. Some days they did speed running drills, push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, and the like. Others, there was long-distance running to build stamina. Twice a week, they got run through an obstacle course that had been set up for them in an abandoned lot. Every night, there was also sparring practice, always outside in the dark in a variety of places, to help them learn to fight in any terrain and in any weather.

On the nights they didn't have the long-distance running, they did get a couple of hours indoors, when Jim and Jon drilled them in new moves. One of the first things they were all taught was how to fall safely. They were also taught new Krav Maga moves, weapon drills, and suchlike things in the basement. This allowed them to learn the new moves with a minimum of distractions before they had to practice them in the outdoor drills.

Xander, of course, had lagged behind everyone else at first. Fortunately, the lag hadn't been as bad as it could have been. His stomach muscles had gotten torn up, and his arms severely messed up, which meant having to rebuild a bit of muscle strength, of course. Fortunately, however, Xander hadn't added two or three months of inactivity and no lifting much of anything on top of the original damage, just three weeks worth. So he'd lagged behind the first week and a half, but then caught up to where he needed to be.

Xander had discovered, thanks to the weapon drills, that he tended to do very well with a stake, battle axe, and dagger in the short-range stuff. As Jim put it, Xander was damn good at stabbing and hacking at short range. Not so much with the slicing at slightly longer range that happened with a sword. Xander was quite happy with that, since swords were damn hard to hide and keep near to hand compared to the others.

Xander was also the only one in the group who could deal with more than crossbows in the long-range stuff. Buffy flat-out refused to do more than touch a gun to pick it up when Jon made them learn how to deal with them, and Willow hadn't been much behind her. As a result, Xander had decided to learn as much as he could, and quickly discovered he was a pretty good shot. He probably had all those video games to thank for that one. While he wasn't a crack shot, he could consistently hit center mass somewhere, which was good enough for him for the moment, and something he could work on to improve. And the group would at least have two people who understood and could handle guns, if the need came up.

It was fast becoming clear though, that Willow was going to have to be research girl for the most part. She managed stakes just fine, but most other weapons gave her trouble. Not that there was anything wrong with being research girl. She certainly had the brains for it, and had even begun to develop (with Blair's assistance) a computer program that listed demonic species by name, physical description, and threat level so that they didn't have to go hunting through thirty books to find what they were facing. Sadly, that program would take months or years to finish, but it would still come in handy.

Buffy, on the other hand, was becoming downright scary. Once she'd got over her initial pique (which hadn't taken long), she'd buckled down and really started to work. Jim and Jon both were pushing her as hard as they could, giving her the benefit of every scrap of their military training, and she was soaking it up (complaining about it, but soaking it up). She learned the Krav Maga moves at a truly frightening rate, and picked up on most of the military training except for guns just as fast. She'd already gotten to the point were Jim and Jon were talking about asking Angel up here for a while, since neither of them could match her speed in sparring, and she really, really needed to practice her moves against something that moved at the speed she did. Jim wasn't any too happy about that idea, but admitted it was necessary.

Both Jim and Jon had taken each of them aside for some serious talks about being soldiers. Not in an effort to get them to join the military, but to talk about the impact the sort of crap soldiers had to deal with had on them. The Scoobies, after all, might not be wearing fatigues, but they were definitely up to their eyebrows in a war. Xander had no idea what had been said to Buffy or Willow, since they hadn't talked about it, but his own talk with both men had given him a lot to think about.

And as if all of that weren't enough, Giles had come up after the first week, and they spent afternoons drilling in recognizing the most common demons by sight, and how to kill the dangerous ones. Giles was also starting to teach them how to read the most common languages that the books in his collection were written in, to make researching easier. He'd also taken a vested interest in the physical training, and had begun to participate when he saw just how much Buffy was learning, grumbling about the Council under his breath the whole time.

And on top of that, Jon and Xander had Sentinel and Guide training with Blair and Jim. For Jon, that meant learning what various scents and sounds that he picked up on were, including how to tell a real argument, siren, or what have you from something that was on TV, as well as learning which smells meant someone was scared out of their mind versus pissed off, among other things. They got a lot of practice on heading off zones and breaking Jon out of them in the process. They did a lot of experimenting with fabrics and foods and soaps and things, seeing what Jon could tolerate and what he couldn't. Here, they lucked out. While Jon got rashes from too-rough clothing or too-harsh soaps and detergents, he didn't seem to have the outright allergies that Jim did. Other than that quirk, the two men were quite similar in most respects.

Blair worked with Xander on the solely Guide bits, like learning to stay calm when something happened, because a panicking Guide was never a good thing. It either made their Sentinel go all Blessed Protector … and Xander had laughed quite a bit when Blair had described that phenomenon, and had called it the Mother Hen From Hell Syndrome … or their Sentinel wouldn't get the help they needed as fast as they needed it, which was very bad. Blair'd used one of his first acts as Jim's Guide, before they'd either of them admitted that's what they were, as an example of that. Xander had cringed at the thought of what could have happened if Blair had panicked with that garbage truck barreling down on Jim. Blair also taught him about a few tricks to help keep Jon from zoning that he wasn't ready to use yet, like piggybacking one sense with another.

And while Xander thought it was a bit kooky (and Jon agreed with him), he was also learning to deal with the spiritual side, because it was rather blatantly obvious to them both that, kooky or not, it existed. That meant learning to meditate and 'listening' for any hints from the spirit plane as well as keeping a sharp eye out for either of their spirit animals. Blair was also trying to help Xander get a bit more comfortable with his spirit animal. Not that it was working. Xander had issues when it came to hyenas, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

So to say their days were busy was an understatement. Usually, they had to be forcibly dragged out of bed around nine in the morning, spent the daylight hours in one activity or another, headed out at dusk and didn't come back in to sleep until midnight or one in the morning. Fortunately, neither Jim nor Jon were slave drivers, and allowed them days off to kick back and relax now and again.

But despite the severe dislike for the torture they were undergoing, Xander was getting to know, and like, Jim. They'd probably never be father-sonish, Xander was really too old and jaded for that, but they were definitely comfortable with each other, and Xander thought Jim was pretty cool and someone he could turn to for advice if he needed it. Fortunately, Jim wasn't throwing a fit about not being called Dad or being treated like a dad. Actually, Xander had a feeling that Jim would freak a bit if Xander ever called him that and meant it, rather than saying it to play-taunt him.

Xander was also getting to know Jon (and vice versa), and that was going even better. They had very similar temperaments and senses of humor, and had a lot of fun snarking back and forth. Xander was able to help Jon get a handle on understanding and speaking the current California teen lingo, and Jon rather appreciated the fact that Xander had little interest in the typical teenage activities. There was still an age gap, of course, because his disinterest in idiot teenage activities aside, Xander was still a teenager, and hadn't yet matured mentally and emotionally into an adult, but after a year of weirdness in Sunnydale, Xander could handle getting adult advice and guidance from someone who looked his age.

As far as Jon was concerned, he'd found Nirvana. The Scoobies knew who and what he really was. Xander had refused point-blank to keep them in the dark. They hadn't done much more than blink during the initial revelation. Since then, it'd been accepted as a matter of course.

Today was a different day than usual. They'd quit early last night in order to get a good night's sleep, because today they were returning to Sunnydale for a day trip and recon. They'd had an early morning flight to give them as much time as possible in Sunnydale today, and they wouldn't be returning to Cascade until tomorrow morning, to give Jim and Jon a chance to observe the usual nightly mayhem and the Scoobies' usual routine.

Xander was sitting next to Jon in the middle seat of the van, Jim was driving with Blair riding shotgun, and Giles and the girls were in the back seat.

"All right gang. There's the Sunnydale sign. The thing should read 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.'." Xander snarked.

Jim drove them through the entire town, with Xander and the rest of the Scoobies alternating pointing out various points of interest. Xander was intrigued to discover that Jim's reaction to Angel hadn't been a once-off. He'd started tensing up a couple miles outside Sunnydale. Better yet, Jon had started to tense up shortly after Jim had. Both had given certain places … and not all of those places were ones the Scoobies introduced as demon havens … death glares and the school had gotten a pair of pissed-off growls. Once they'd done an initial drive-through, Jim parked the van in front of Buffy's place and they all piled out, to be greeted by Joyce.

Jim and Jon both had had rather strong opinions on telling Joyce about Buffy and what she did. Neither of them had liked the idea of Buffy lying to her mother. Eventually, Buffy had decided they had a point, if for no other reason than that Joyce deserved to know what had really happened to her daughter if and when Buffy died. So they'd planned on dragging Angel out of his hidey-hole and making him play show and tell again later tonight, so Joyce had proof. And no, Xander wasn't snickering at Angel being show-and-tell again at all.

Xander damn near got hugged to death by Joyce when he walked in the house, and Joyce marveled at how healed he was and how good he was looking. They had lunch, then went for a daytime stroll so Jim and Jon could get a closer look at the town before things got dangerous. Xander made a mental note of the places that Jim and Jon reacted to the most strongly that weren't on the Scoobies' trouble radar. Then it was time for dinner.

Eventually, dusk fell, and Angel arrived, looking much put-upon. Giles sat Joyce down and explained the whole demons and Slayers thing. Joyce stared at a vamp-faced Angel for about a minute in silence before she broke down in horrified tears and hugged Buffy.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Joyce said when she calmed down a bit. Xander knew she was referring to the whole 'throw Buffy in a padded cell' thing.

Buffy gave her mom another hug. "It's ok, mom. Not like it's something easy to believe or obvious, you know?"

Joyce then stared at Giles and Jim. "You're teaching her?"

Both men nodded. "Everything we can." Jim confirmed. "And from what Giles has told us, the vast majority of it is stuff that's normally not taught to Slayers. I'm really, really not liking this Watcher's Council, to be honest."

And in Jon's case, that was putting it mildly as hell. When Jon had got the full story on the Council, he'd thrown an epic, ranting fit and had wanted (probably still did) to drop a bomb on the idiots. Not that Xander disagreed with that.

And then Joyce calmly got up and got right in Angel's face. "As for you … if you ever so much as look at my daughter wrong, I will take great pleasure in dousing you with gasoline and lighting a match … are we clear?"

Xander didn't blame Angel for looking a touch startled and alarmed, because he'd had no idea Joyce could sound like that. He was beginning to see where Buffy got her fierce side from, now, because damn. He wanted to run and hide, and he wasn't even the focus of Joyce's ire.

They spent another hour or so talking about things, which had resulted in Xander getting a rib-crushing hug when the whole CPR thing came to light. And got Angel a pissed-off death glare. And resulted in a lot of angry muttering when the whole 'the Harrises suck, oh, and Jim's my dad' thing came up. When they finally wound down and got ready to head out, Joyce insisted on going with.

Halfway through their town walk-through, Xander sidled up next to Buffy. "You know, I think we could just hand your mom a sword and tell her somebody hurt you, then grab some popcorn and watch the show, and you'd never have to patrol again."

Buffy gave him an amused grin. "I know, right?" She sighed. "I'm glad you guys pushed to do this. It … it'll be nice, not having to hide it from mom."

"And having someone else who's looking like she's going to back you to the hilt. I will not be at all shocked if she asks Jim to teach her a few things. And I truly pity the Council if any of them show up here. She's going to crucify them."

It being August, they didn't run across anything demonic until they went into Willie's Bar. Even there, there'd only been a half-dozen demons, only one of them a vamp. Which ran like hell when it spotted Buffy. So did two of the other, smaller demons. Only the three big ones stayed, and even they eyed her warily. Joyce's eyes had gotten very big at the sight of them. Jim and Jon had just given the entire room a death-glare and growled almost non-stop until they headed back out. Even then, Blair and Xander almost had to drag their respective Sentinels out of the room.

Once the general night tour was done, the Scoobies led Jim, Jon, and Joyce on their usual patrol routes before they finally called it a night and headed in.

"You're wanting to come back, aren't you?" Joyce asked Xander when they got back into the house, sans Angel, who'd slouched off before they went on the patrol routes.

Xander knew she'd initially assumed he'd be staying with Jim, once she'd found out Jim was his father. "Yeah. Yeah I am. I can't … I can't walk away from this, Mrs. Summers. I just can't. Even if Buffy wasn't a factor, I had to stake one of my best friends. I really, really don't want anyone else to lose someone like that if I can help it. I know I can't stop it all, but damnit, if I can keep one person alive who would otherwise have got eaten or turned, it's damn well worth it. And Buffy is a factor, because she needs all the help she can get in this damn town. Giles told us there's never been a Slayer stationed on an active Hellmouth before, that he knows of. Expecting her to handle this place alone is stupid as hell."

Joyce nodded. "Then you and Jon can live here with us. We've got the guest room upstairs, or we can convert part of the basement if you'd rather. That way you boys don't have to worry about having to get a job to afford someplace to live, and can concentrate on school." And slaying, but she didn't need to say that.

Xander and Jon looked at each other. "The guest room, and two twin beds, would probably be best, Mrs. Summers, as we're probably going to end up turning your basement into a training area when we get back." Jon finally said.

Xander wasn't about to argue. Buffy was a huge freaking target, and having backup living at her house was a good idea. It protected her and her mother both, as well as giving Xander and Jon somewhere to live without worrying about rent. Not that they'd have had to, since Jim had said he'd take care of that, but still. Xander liked this idea.

Eventually, they headed to bed, and the next morning they headed back to Cascade and another few weeks of training hell.

Chapter Text

The Return of the Scoobies

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

August 28, Cascade

Before any of them really realized it, summer was over and it was time to return to Sunnydale.

To say the last two months had done the collective Scoobies (Giles included) a world of good was to vastly understate the case. While none of them, not even Buffy (though she, by far, came the closest) were now black belts or otherwise fully-trained, they were a long, long way from where they'd started, which had basically been 'flail and pray'. Even Giles, who'd been somewhere between Willow and Xander's level of competence and Buffy's had improved.

Personally, Xander would always treasure the expression on Angel's face when he'd arrived a couple weeks ago to spar with Buffy, giving her a chance to work out with someone with comparable speed, strength, and agility. If the way he'd started the first sparring session was any indication, Angel had clearly not been expecting much by way of improvement in Buffy's fighting skills. The look on Angel's face when she handed him his ass inside of about two minutes had damn near had Xander rolling on the floor laughing.

Of course, Angel hadn't exactly taken the defeat lying down, and had bounced back up to try again, but it quickly became clear that short of Angel doing his level best to truly kill Buffy, she could at worst fight him to a standstill. Buffy had been understandably pleased with that improvement. Jim had cautioned her against getting cocky, because Angel was clearly out of practice, having not done any 'hunting' for a hundred years. Not to mention that Angel wasn't really wanting to kill Buffy, so he wasn't pulling the really lethal moves out of his arsenal. Still, given that the bulk of vampires in Sunnydale were newly-risen and on the dumb and incompetent side, Buffy wouldn't have much of anything to worry about.

Better still, at least as far as Xander was concerned, if the whining was anything to go by, Angel was on the verge of, essentially, taking his blocks and going home. He was not at all fond of being used as a show-and-tell device, nor of getting his ass handed to him, even if it was by a Slayer. Xander, Jim and Jon's 'don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out' attitude towards Angel definitely hadn't improved matters. Buffy wasn't all that happy about it, of course, but Xander couldn't really find it in himself to encourage Angel to hang around, even if it made Buffy happy.

Jim and Jon both had had long talks with all of them, in private. Whatever they'd said to Giles had really lit a fire under the Brit's ass where the Council was concerned. Not that Giles had been the Council's biggest fan before then, but he seemed far more ready to actively revolt against their decrees than he had been before the start of summer.

For his own part, the talks he'd had with both Jim and Jon had helped Xander put Jesse's death in a better perspective. Neither man was a counselor of course, but just talking things out with someone who'd faced down death and dealt with personal tragedies helped immensely. He'd always miss Jesse, but at least now he wasn't as eaten alive by guilt as he had been. And it had helped deal with the aftermath of the events of the last year, too. Especially the prophecy mess. He was even beginning to come to terms with what'd happened when he'd been possessed by the hyena. So much so that he'd finally confessed to Buffy that he remembered.

Much to his relief, her reaction had been rather similar to Willow's. She'd smacked him for trying to 'spare' her, and told him she didn't blame him for what had happened. And then had hugged him hard enough to threaten his ribs.

"I didn't thank you when it all happened." She'd told him. "So I'll say it now. Thank you."

Xander hadn't needed clarification on what the heck she was talking about.

Xander tossed the last of his new clothes into a duffel bag and zipped it up. They were going to be flying back to Sunnydale the next morning, and he wanted to get everything packed up now. Jon was across the room from him, doing much the same. Xander paused when he saw Jon cock his head to one side.

"Jim?" Came Blair's voice from the living room.

"We're about to have visitors." Jim did not sound at all pleased by that idea.

Jon and Xander traded a look and headed into the living room. Buffy and Willow joined them a few moments later, and then the doorbell rang.

Jim, his face very, very blank, answered the door. On the other side was an older man with a full head of silver hair and glasses, a couple inches shorter and a good deal more lightly built than Jim, from what Xander could see. He looked like an older version of Giles, in a lot of ways. He also looked about as happy to be there as Jim did, which is to say not at all.

"James."

Xander couldn't see Jim's face, but the body language spoke volumes. Jim was very much not a happy camper. Blair was eyeing the two men worriedly, and he wasn't the only one.

"I'd ask what you're doing here, but I already know." Jim half-growled. "You never could mind your own damn business."

"My son is my business." The man snapped.

Oh. So ... grandpa. And Jim clearly didn't have the best relationship with the man. Xander fought down an amused snort.

"I stopped being your business when you washed your hands of me because I wasn't interested in numbers, profits, and being your lapdog." Jim snapped. "And if you think you're going to just waltz back into my life now, you've gravely mistaken."

Xander's eyes went wide. Ouch. He had no idea if that was true, of course, but even if it was, that was ... blunt and vicious. And weirdly comforting, because even Xander could figure out at least part of what was going on here. Jim's father must have heard ... through some means ... about Xander. And Jim clearly thought that Xander needed shielding from the man.

"I would think it wouldn't be up to you." The man returned, surprisingly calmly.

"Xander." Jim called over his shoulder. "You have any interest in running a big business?"

Xander grimaced. "Not hardly."

"He is, therefore, worthless to you." Jim told his father. "Go tell Steven to sire you some heirs for the throne."

"Ouch." Xander muttered. "Now I see why his spirit animal is a cat. Because that was more than a little catty."

Jon nearly choked in his effort to not laugh.

Xander crossed the living room to stand beside Jim, who was still blocking his father from actually entering the apartment. "Xander." He introduced himself to man. "And I really don't want anything to do with running a business." He grimaced in distaste. "But I'd still like to get to know you, if that's all right." He eyed Jim. "And my uncle."

"William." The man introduced himself, then eyed Jim as well. "And that would be agreeable, young man. Though, for right now, I believe I'd like to have a talk with your father."

"Outside." Jim said, clearly unwilling to let the man into the apartment.

William sighed, but acquiesced, and the two of them walked out, the door closing firmly behind them.

"Ok, why do I have the impression it's going to be less talking and more yelling?" Xander asked the room at large.

"Because that's what it looked like?" Buffy offered.

Jim came back, alone, about an hour later, jaw twitching in annoyance. He handed Xander a card with William's contact information on it. "Don't expect much. Especially if he finds out about Sunnydale. Or that you're a Guide."

Yeah, definitely a story there, and not a happy one. Xander took the card and put it in his pocket, resolving to call once they'd gotten settled in Sunnydale.

August 29, Sunnydale

Jim and Blair dropped them all off at the airport just after dawn, since they'd gotten an early flight.

"I got you guys some things." Jim told them. "Since sending it by air was ... impractical ... it's being sent by truck. Ought to be there sometime tomorrow."

Xander grinned. "Lemme guess. Knives, daggers, axes, swords, and whatever army surplus stuff you could get your hands on?"

Jim laughed. "Got it in one." He admitted. "Figured you guys would be able to put it to good use. Also got you some equipment so you could carve your own stakes as you needed them, and a small stockpile of holy water. Not much of that, since getting too much from any one place would have gotten people curious, but some."

"We'll call as soon as it arrives." Xander promised. "And thanks for getting it."

"You're welcome." Jim said.

There was an awkward moment as the two of them tried to figure out whether to hug, shake hands, or what, before they finally settled on a still very awkward shake-and-half-hug.

"Take care of yourself. If all goes well, we'll drop by for the weekend at the end of the month." Blair said. "And if you have any questions or problems, call!"

"We will." Jon promised.

Then they had to get going, and, a few hours later, landed in L.A. Joyce met them once they got past the gates, and they drove the rest of the distance to Sunnydale. Giles was dropped off at his place, and the rest of them headed for the Summers' house.

"We really appreciate you being willing to put us up, Mrs. Summers." Xander said.

Joyce smiled at him. "Nonsense, Xander. You're helping Buffy. That's worth a lot more than room and board. And call me Joyce. That goes for both of you." Then she looked at Xander. "I stopped by your parent's place shortly after you guys came down here the first time, and talked them into giving me your things. There wasn't much, but it's all upstairs already. I figured you wouldn't want to go anywhere near them."

Xander let out a whoosh of air. He didn't really have anything that was worth money, a few CD's aside, but he did have a few things that had a ton of sentimental value ... mostly the few things he still had of Jesse's, which he'd sort of hidden in the back of his closet after Jesse ... died. He hadn't been able to put them away at the time, but he hadn't been able to stand seeing them, either, so shoving them to the back of his closet had been the best compromise he'd been able to come up with. "Thanks M ... errr, Joyce." He caught himself just in time to keep from calling her Mrs. Summers.

He headed upstairs to check what had gotten retrieved and to unpack his new things. Much to his relief, the few things he had of Jesse's were among the stuff Joyce had gotten. He put them on the shelf in the closet for the time being, and turned around to see Jon watching him with a look of understanding in his eyes.

Jon had never said exactly who he'd lost that hurt so badly, but whoever it was, their death still haunted Jon. Xander still wasn't sure which of them had gotten more choked up during that part of their talks. It rather abruptly occurred to Xander that while Jack probably had some sort of reminder of the person, Jon didn't seem to.

"You know, you should get pictures. Or copies, or whatever." He said. "From Jack."

Jon blinked. Truth to tell, the idea hadn't occurred to him. "Maybe." He said after a few moments.

On one hand, he wasn't sure he wanted the visual reminders, but on the other ... he was going to outlive them ... possibly even Teal'c, even if the big guy died of old age and not in the middle of some battle. Bra'tac had been, what, nearly a hundred and forty, and only then running out of time due to not being able to carry a larvae anymore? Teal'c didn't have that worry, so who know how long he'd last, given the chance ... but Jon had another sixty years at a minimum ahead of him, possibly more, so it was anyone's guess who would go first. And really, that was a morbid thought and he needed to quit that shit right now.

He got his own stuff stowed and then they headed back downstairs, just in time for lunch. After lunch, Giles arrived and they cleared the kitchen table before hauling out maps, notebooks, and pens to map out a plan of attack for how to deal with Sunnydale.

"Ok, I figure, no matter what sort of goodies Jim is sending us, we need to place weapon caches around town. We're not always going to have the time or ability to run back here or to the school to get weapons if something goes down." Jon said.

"We can use one of the crypts in each of the graveyards." Buffy offered. "We'd just have to make sure it's empty before we stash stuff in there, and keep it that way. If we do it that way, we'd really only have to find a spot to put stuff down on George and Fourth, since there's a cemetery within a couple blocks of pretty much everyplace else in town."

Jon scanned the map for the locations of the graveyards, then nodded. "That works. We can use the Atkinson factory for our spot down on George and Fourth ... factories always have extra crap laying around, so it'll be easy to hide a stash somewhere near there. And we need somewhere more secure to stash stuff at the school. Maybe some unused storage closet or something, rather than the library itself. We can always switch out the locks on it so only we can get in there. Not like anyone's going to really notice in this town."

"That would work." Giles admitted. "I should perhaps move my collection of occult books as well. The library is quite convenient for meetings, but if the Hellmouth opens, there's no telling how much damage would be done before we got it contained, and some of those books can't be replaced."

"Well, we were planning on converting the basement anyway." Xander said. "Why not go whole-hog? It's big enough to have half of it be for sparring and weapons storage and the other half full of bookshelves and someplace to sit and read. And we wouldn't have to worry about Snyder showing up unexpectedly." He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment. "Put the library on the far wall from the stairs that lead to the yard, and the sparring section by the stairs, since that's the bigger area anyway."

August 30, Sunnydale

The truck arrived shortly after breakfast. It turned out to be a small U-Haul truck. Xander stared at it for a minute, then looked at Jon. "If it's full, I'm going to kiss him. Just so you know."

Jon laughed, and then they opened the back end. Much to Xander's disappointment, it wasn't filled with goodies, but there was quite a haul despite that.

One side was stacked waist-high with ... what turned out to be most of the stuff from the basement of Jim's apartment building. The mats, dummy weapons and some of the targets had all been sent to them. The other side had several stacks of flat boxes of varying sizes, which, when opened, proved to be holding a variety of weapons. Big, heavy KA-Bar knives, smaller, lighter knives that looked to be made out of different metals, three different axes, a double-bladed beauty that had Xander drooling, a single-head, and a wood-splitting type axe. Four crossbows and enough arrows with different shaped heads of different materials to make most people nervous, and a huge box of empty grenade shells that they'd be able to fill with their choice of nasty.

"I think I love my father, just a little bit." Xander said, staring at all the loot.

"I think I'm getting a crush on him." Buffy admitted, which made Xander laugh and grimace at the same time.

"Your dad's nearly as bad as I am." Jon said, not looking at all unhappy about the idea. "The only thing missing is explosives, which I'm not about to trust you three with ... yet. Let's get this stuff in the house before the neighbors notice."

Chapter Text

Dusty Masters, Part 1

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 1, Sunnydale

Sadly, they didn't have much time to enjoy the spoils Jim had sent them, as the next day was school.

Giles went with Jon to help him get registered early that morning.

"I must warn you that Principal Snyder is a fairly unpleasant person." Giles said.

Jon snorted. "Yeah. I've heard tales from Xander and Willow. I'll restrain myself from shoving his teeth down his throat, I promise."

Giles cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say 'We'll see'. He had little doubt that Jon could control himself under normal circumstances, but he got very ... trigger-happy where Xander was concerned, and Giles wasn't too sure Jon would be able to keep his mouth shut if Snyder started in on Xander ... and Xander was one of Snyder's favorite targets, not too far behind Buffy.

Fortunately, the problem didn't come up, as Snyder wasn't there to harass them as they filled out the necessary forms. A short while later, Jon was heading to class. And rather quickly discovered a problem. The return to school marked the first time that Jon was exposed to large amounts of sensory data without Xander within easy reach. He was new enough to his senses that by lunchtime, he had a massive headache and was teetering on the edge of a zone-out or spike, despite having 'reached out' with his senses to concentrate on Xander's heartbeat. Actually, that had somewhat contributed to the problem, as while he could do that, doing it repeatedly just stressed him further.

Fortunately, Xander got one good look at him at lunchtime, grabbed their lunches, and hauled Jon outside, to a spot under the bleachers by the football field. Jon leaned against Xander for a few minutes, his eyes closed as he concentrated on Xander's scent and heartbeat, got his senses back on an even keel and started to relax. Finally, he opened his eyes and sat up.

"Well, that's going to make school a problem." He grumped.

"Not really." Xander pointed out. "Now we know you can't go that long ... at least not yet. So we arrange to cross paths between classes so you have a minute to re-center yourself. Should do you. Once you get used to the place, I don't think you'll need to touch base as often ... Jim's a year ahead of you, and according to Blair, he's fine working on his own on crime scenes for short periods, nevermind at the precinct itself."

Jon relaxed a little. "So it's just a question of getting used to it."

"And maybe getting it settled in your head that this is your territory." Xander said. "Either way, it'll happen."

Jon grabbed his lunch and the two of them ate before coming out from under the bleachers and heading back into the school ... only to run into Cordelia, who wrinkled her nose at Xander.

"What's this? The dork escorting another dork?" She asked.

Jon gave her a level, grumpy glare. The implications seemed to sail straight over her head.

"Cordelia, you really need to leash that mouth of yours. One of these days, it's going to bite you in the ass." Xander warned, well aware of the fact Jon was getting annoyed on his behalf. "And this is Jon O'Neill. He transferred in from Colorado Springs, Colorado."

Cordelia turned her attention to Jon, nose already in the air. "Word of advice. You want to be anything in this town ... stop hanging with the losers. I'll cut you some slack today because you're new and don't know better."

Jon cocked an eyebrow at her. "Popularity contests are for the weak-willed and the losers. I don't give a shit. Not about being popular and for damn sure not about your opinion of me. I'll hang out with whoever I damn well please." And with another glare at her, he urged Xander towards the school.

Xander went willingly enough. "I think you might have broken her brain just a little bit. She's all about popular opinion."

Jon snorted. "Yeah. That's going to work out real well for her. Especially here."

"Hey, no arguments from me." Xander said. "Just try not to eat her alive, all right?"

Jon snorted. "I'll try."

That evening they gathered in the library. First task was to complete their homework, which was done fairly swiftly as they'd all taken full advantage of study halls that day. Once that was done, they started piling Giles' occult books into boxes for transfer to the Summers home. Fortunately, while there were a number of books and old weapons, there wasn't so much that it would be impossible to get it all transferred in one evening.

Especially with Joyce's unexpected help at the house. She had, evidently, gone out during the day and bought a number of bookcases and assembled them in the basement. Which the Scoobies discovered when they got to the house with the first load. She met them outside and directed them to the side of the house and the basement's separate entrance.

"Rupert, do any of the books require special handling? Aside from gloves to keep skin oils off them, I mean." Joyce asked.

"Actually, none of the books I brought with me require even that much." Giles admitted. "Rather impractical to have such delicate tomes in the field, since maintaining the conditions required by such books isn't always possible."

"All right then. You lot keep bringing the boxes, and I'll unpack them. I won't be able to keep up, but it will reduce the amount of work you'll have to do once you've got all the boxes here." Joyce told him.

"That will be much appreciated, Mrs. Summers." Giles told her.

"Call me Joyce, please. We're going to be working together for a long time to come. Being formal is sort of silly."

"Quite so, ... Joyce. Hopefully, between us, we can keep these hooligans alive indefinitely." Giles said. "Though, if you are going to insist on helping, I am going to insist on you learning to defend yourself effectively. Actually, I was going to insist on it regardless. As Buffy's mother, you are a prime target for the unsavory elements trying to contend with the Slayer."

Joyce grimaced. "You do have a point. All right."

Outside, Jon grinned. "Good. Joyce agreed to learning to defend herself."

Xander stared at him. "Giles brought that up to her?" He asked. "What the heck do you and Jim say to him? Seriously? Because he's gone from 'go away little children, this isn't your affair' to 'all right. More help is good, and trained help is better.' It's both awesome and alarming."

Jon shrugged. "Mostly, we just hammered at the Council's ideas that he got brainwashed into believing with reality." He admitted. "And logic. Until he caved, and realized that what they'd been teaching him was mostly bullshit, and really fucking bad ideas to boot. He was part way there on his own anyway, so it really wasn't all that hard."

A few more trips, and then all the books and weapons had been transferred, and they all settled in to help unpack it again. The library was set up on the far side of the basement from the access to the yard, with the stairs up to the first floor between the library and the exit. The main section of the basement, slated to become their indoor training facility, was also set up. Well, sort of. They put down the mats and put the dummies into place, but they needed to get shelves and mounting brackets for the weapons, so it wasn't quite complete. Plus, they wanted to get a few cabinets to hold things like the grenades, some super-soakers, and their supply of holy water as well as first aid items. Joyce started considering installing heavy-duty, high-pressure showers in the corner by the washer, dryer, and water heater after hearing some of Giles' tales of the mess some demons left behind.

"With shelves that hold clean clothes for everyone, so you don't have to worry about tracking the mess into the house, if you run into some of those." Joyce said. "You'd be able to hose yourselves down and throw everything straight into the washer." She frowned slightly, considering. "Though I should probably invest in a bigger, better washer and dryer. And hot water tank." She gave her head a shake. "I'll never understand how you deal with this normally, when it's just you and the Slayer." She admitted.

"It is nowhere near so pleasant. Or well equipped." Giles admitted. "Granted, in some places, it's simply impossible to be well-equipped, due to being in a third world country or far from civilization and its accoutrements." Then he took a deep breath, and glanced briefly over at the Scoobies, who'd already had the upcoming discussion in Cascade.

"You should know ... I think the Council is hoping that Buffy will be killed, swiftly." He flinched from her glare. "Firstly, they sent me in. I am ... was, anyway, a research Watcher, not a field agent. Though Jim and Jon have been assisting in correcting that lack." He sighed. "And they have not asked us to relocate. They know what Sunnydale sits on top of, and they know it is far beyond the abilities of any one Slayer to police this town effectively and survive. And it is not normal procedure for a Slayer to be stationed in any one place. They go from town to town, city to city, dealing with problems as they arise."

"Yet Buffy remains here, with you, and no sign of them trying to get her out of here." Joyce almost growled. "Right ... any of them show up here, they're getting a fist in the face." Then she looked at Giles. "Should we move?" She glanced over at Buffy. "You're being awfully calm about this."

"We talked about it over the summer, mom." Buffy admitted. "I already got my mad on."

Giles shook his head. "Were these ordinary circumstances, I would have moved us, yes ... but they're not. You're here, supporting her. She also has Willow ... and Xander and Jon. Xander's father has promised to come down and visit ... and presumably help ... from time to time, and Jon's friends can likely be counted on to assist." Especially since one of the 'friends' was Jack. "With that much assistance on hand, there is going to be very little we can't deal with, and if something that bad comes up, I will not hesitate to evacuate us."

Joyce nodded, accepting that. "I'll hold you to that, Rupert. I'm not particularly fond of the thought of my daughter dying young."

September 5, Sunnydale

The week passed in a blur of activity. Xander's plan of meeting up during the breaks between classes seemed to solve Jon's issue with getting too stressed. They split their evenings between setting up the basement fully, with Joyce heading out during school hours to buy the things they needed to convert the basement to their needs, and patrols, dusting an increasing number of vampires as the demonic population gradually increased alongside the slow decease in daylight hours.

Friday night marked the completion of the adjustments to the basement, as they mounted and filled the shelves meant to hold their clean clothes near the shower that had been installed earlier in the week. They'd just finished that when Jon's head snapped up. "Angel's coming." He warned.

"What does he want?" Xander groused.

"How can you tell it's him, compared to any other vamp?" Buffy wanted to know, sounding curious.

"Well, in this particular instance, it's because he's muttering under his breath." Jon admitted. "But he does have a scent unique to him."

"What's he saying?" Xander wanted to know.

"Mostly whining about having to come here and deal with you and I." Jon admitted, grinning at Xander. "For some odd reason, he's not a fan of ours."

Xander laughed. "That may have something to do with the fact that Jim tried to beat his ass three seconds after clapping eyes on him ... which gave the big liar a bit of a complex about Sentinels." Or so Xander hoped, anyway.

"Guys." Buffy said, sounding irritated.

"Sorry, Buffy, but ... yeah. Actually? Not sorry. I don't like him. At all. Wouldn't even if he was human. Which he isn't." Xander said. "I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, which isn't all that far."

At that point, there was a knock on the door leading to the yard, and Joyce went to answer it. "Yes, Angel? What is it?"

"May I come in? I need to talk to Buffy." Angel asked.

Joyce glanced over her shoulder at the others, and, after getting nods, let him in.

"What's up, Angel?" Buffy asked.

"I'm afraid I have bad news. It seems that the remnants of the vampire population are rallying under a new leader, someone named the Anointed One." Angel told her.

"Ok, someone is clearly compensating for something." Xander said. "Because seriously? Anointed One? Yeah, that's not ego stroking at all, is it?"

"Nope. Not at all." Jon agreed with a smirk. "So what's the deal with this guy. Well, I'm assuming it's a guy, anyway. Is it?"

"As best I can tell, yes. He's referred to in the masculine. I haven't met him ... he's being careful, and meeting with a Master Vampire of my age and strength, even with the soul, is something to be cautious about. I could do a lot of damage in a very short amount of time without even resorting to fighting him."

"How do you figure that?" Jon wanted to know.

"Just by treating him like he's a wayward Childe." Angel said. "Vampires ... tend to jump on perceived weakenesses, and if I were to treat this Anointed One like he was nothing special, it would weaken his position with the others, and open him to attack from his own forces."

"Huh. Good to know. Might be useful in the future." Jon said. "I'll start keeping an ear out for any talk about the guy, see what's going on."

Angel nodded and then got out of there after giving Buffy a lingering look, clearly not comfortable with hanging out in the same room as Jon. Xander did his best to not smirk, and failed rather spectacularly.

"I've said it before, Jon, but I'm going to say it again. I really like you ... just for your ability to send Angel running."

Chapter Text

Dusty Masters, Part 2

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 12, Sunnydale

There was, Xander decided, as he leaned back against the basement wall, taking a breather from sparring practice, something both disconcerting and awesome as hell watching Jon teach Joyce how to kick ass and take names.

The two of them had been at it all week, and Xander now had proof as to where Buffy got her fierceness from, because Joyce was a force to be reckoned with. Xander almost wondered if she'd been a potential Slayer, when she was younger. It would explain a lot, if she had been.

Other than the standard patrols ... well, the now-standard patrols, as they'd developed definite routes that ensured all corners of the town were covered at some point within a week's time ... they'd continued to be busy, though this time it was placing and securing their weapon stashes around town, so that they had quick and easy access to weapons no matter where they were when trouble reared its ugly head.

More information on the Anointed One had come in, which had royally pissed off both Buffy and Xander. Evidently, it was the same creepy-ass child-vamp that had led Buffy into the Master's lair right before he damn near ripped her throat out. The little creep also evidently had a 'preacher' he worked with, though Xander sincerely doubted the man's credentials as a man of god if he was siding with a vamp of any description, much less this kid.

Aside from having taken leadership of most of the vampires in town, and moving their base of operations away from the Hellmouth to an abandoned factory, the little creep was, according to Jon, talking about the Master's return an awful lot. Which had put both Buffy and Xander in even worse moods.

"I say we get some high-grade acid, dig the bastard up, and melt his bones to nothing in a big-ass vat." Xander had growled when they found out about that. "Make it impossible for him to come back."

"They might not be talking about the same Master, Xander." Buffy had pointed out. "Could be another old vamp from somewhere who's coming in to run things."

Which, Xander'd had to admit, was a viable explanation. Still, he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Xander's train of thought got broken when Joyce let out a victorious laugh as she managed to perform a new move Jon'd been teaching her correctly without him guiding her. He grinned and shook his head.

"Xander! Call for you!" Willow called from the top of the stairs. Xander blinked, then grinned and hustled upstairs, suspecting who it would be. He grabbed the phone as soon as he got upstairs.

"Hello!"

"Hey Xander. Figured I'd call and see how things are down there." Jim said.

Xander grinned a little. "They're good. Angel's pouting, Joyce is learning how to kick ass and is more than a little terrifying. I think I figured out where Buffy got it from. Seriously. Joyce is more than a little awesome."

That got him a laugh from Jim. "So nothing much in the way of trouble?"

"Not really. At least, not yet." Xander told him. "There's some word doing the rounds about a Master returning ... but whether they mean the guy we dusted at the end of the school year or someone else, we haven't been able to figure out yet." Then he grinned hugely. "Oh, and, fair warning. Buffy's getting a bit of a crush on you."

There was a moment of startled silence from the other end of the line, making Xander's grin broaden even further. Then. "She's a weapon nut, I take it?"

Xander mock-pouted. "Yeah, just a bit. But then, I think everyone but Willow drooled a little when the truck got here. Jon even promised to teach us how to handle explosives, since you sent the grenade shells."

"Got plans for those, I take it?" Jim asked, sounding amused.

"Yeah. Jon's thinking holy water and garlic ... won't kill vamps, but it for damn sure will annoy and distract them, which is all to the good. And some fragmentation grenades, with stuff in them specifically for the sorts of demons that need to get hit with a certain metal or whatever to get dead. But doing all that's going to take a couple weeks, at least according to him, and I'll take his word on it. Oh, and by the way? You're officially the best father ever. That double-bladed axe you got me is sweet."

That got him another amused laugh. "Glad you like it." He said. "Jon been having any problems?"

"The first day of school was a bit rough, but we got that sorted." Xander told him. "Other than that, he's been fine."

"That's good. Sounds like he's adapting to it better than I have."

"Yeah, but his life was made of weird shit before, you know? Dealing with this would be easy compared." Xander said.

"Good point." Jim agreed. "He's had to learn to be flexible, at least to a point. Well, it's getting late, so I imagine you're going to be heading out soon. Talk to you again soon."

"Sure thing. Bye, Jim." Xander hung up once Jim had, and grinned.

It felt so weird ... but so good ... having a parental figure that gave a shit about him. That called to check up on him and make sure he was ok. He was quite sure that at some point, Jim would annoy him and Xander would wish he wasn't around ... given that Xander was a teenager, that was all but inevitable, but until then, Xander planned on thoroughly enjoying the novelty. Hell, he even had a mother of sorts in Joyce, who'd taken to being 'den mother' for the Scoobies with relish, tucking both Xander and Willow under her wings and fussing over them like she'd given birth to them in the last week.

Everyone gathered together and geared up in the basement. Xander grinned happily as he pulled on the leather harness that held the axe to his back, then grabbed the axe and petted the haft of it a bit. It truly was a beauty, three feet long, with two half-moon blades, each nearly a foot long and a bit less than that wide.

The haft was ash, wrapped with leather from base to tip. The section most usually grabbed was doubly wrapped with rubber, to provide a cushioned, slip-resistant grip. The blades gave the appearance of being older, as the metal was on the dark side and fairly matte, rather than the lighter, highly polished look new metal tends to have. Better still, much of the surface of the blades was marked with runes, which Giles had identified as ones for protection and sharpness. Whether or not the runes actually did any good was anyone's guess, but Xander definitely appreciated the thought ... and wondered where in the name of hell Jim had found it.

A KA-Bar and one of the tac vests, kitted out with small vials of holy water, garlic water, and a miniaturized first aid kit finished out Xander's preparations. Giles was toting a crossbow and a quiver full of arrows, while Jon had opted for a pair of KA-Bars and the single-bladed battle axe. Both men also had tac vests with the same items as Xander's, though Xander was fairly sure he'd seen Jon stashing a few additional items in his. Willow was carrying a second crossbow and quiver of arrows, as well as a KA-Bar and tac vest.

Buffy had a KA-Bar and three of the lighter knives, just in case. She also had a stake ... again, just in case. Jim and Jon had trained her out of depending on a stake, but she still kept one on hand as a backup. She alone wasn't wearing a tac vest, as it interfered in her ability to twist, turn, and generally make herself into a pretzel when she fought, and since she was the one that did the bulk of the up close and personal hand to hand fighting with the baddies, her being hampered was a bad idea.

Properly armed, they headed out. Today's patrol took them past where the Master's skeleton had been buried.

They got about halfway there when Jon stopped in his tracks, instinctively giving the military hand sign to freeze at the same time. Fortunately, Xander'd been keeping an eye on him, knowing he was listening for trouble as they walked, and put on the brakes when he did, which brought the others to a stop as well.

Xander put a hand on Jon's arm as an assist as Jon tipped his head, clearly concentrating on whatever he'd heard that had caught his attention. Jon was quiet for a few more moments then gave his head a shake and grimaced.

"Damn. We have a problem. Heard that whiny kid again. But he finally said something useful. Something about revivifying the Master, and digging him up. I think they're there right now."

"Oh, hell no." Buffy growled. "They are so not getting that bastard back to life. Xander ... just how fast can you get your hands on some high-grade acid?" She demanded.

Xander, despite the situation, couldn't quite suppress his amused snicker at her remembering that comment of his from a couple days ago. "Unfortunately, that's rather impractical. But I say we go dust these idiots before they get the Master dug up, and then we can do something about him once the pressure's off."

"That is definitely a plan." Jon agreed, then got moving again.

They'd gotten about halfway there when Jon froze again. This time, Xander didn't need his ears. Because even he could hear the faint sounds of agonized screams. "What the hell?"

"Not human." Jon said, grabbing Xander's sleeve when Xander started to take off. "I'm getting no heartbeats from the gravesite. Whoever's doing the screaming, they're a vampire."

Well, that cooled Xander's jets. But still. "Again, I say what the hell?"

"Let's find out."

They approached the Master's gravesite, which was in one of the cemeteries ... one of the older ones right next to a church, where the ground was consecrated. It had been their main defense against any funny business with the Master's skeleton, whether from outside agencies or the skeleton itself ... since none of them had any idea whether or not the bastard could regenerate himself, given enough time.

The place was just about literally crawling with vampires ... at least twenty of them, two on the gate alone Thankfully, they all seemed to be rather newly-risen, given the predominance of 'nice' clothes that people were generally buried in. But at the center of the chaos was the Anointed One, and another vampire, who evidently had enough status to just be standing around.

The minions, on the other hand, were digging the Master up. By hand. Which explained the screaming, and, now that they were closer, the pleas for mercy from some of them. Even as they watched, one of the poor bastards went up in dust, its body unable to handle the damage the consecrated earth was doing it. The effect was evidently strong enough to necessitate protection for the Anointed one and his main stooge, Xander noticed after a minute, as he spotted them both standing on what looked like a blanket, thus protected against the corrosive effect consecrated earth had on vampiric bodies.

Jon turned, and motioned Giles and Willow forward. With this many vampires, it'd be best to dust as many as they could from a distance before they went hand-to-hand. Buffy took the second crossbow from Willow and hunkered down beside Giles.

Just seconds before they started firing, Jon did the freezing thing again, then held up a hand to prevent them from firing.

"They know we're here. Or at least, the little bastard does." Jon whispered. "He just told his friend there that it was time for them to leave, before the Slayer and her friends started wreaking havoc."

That made them all frown for a moment, then Buffy shrugged. "We'll figure out how he knew later. Right now, let's get these guys and the skeleton."

There were nods, then Buffy and Giles hunkered down again and started shooting.

They got about six vampires between them before the rest of them figured out what was going on and where the bolts were coming from. Some of them bolted for the hills, but about half of the survivors started swarming their direction. Buffy tossed her crossbow back to Willow and pulled her knife, then raced to meet them.

Jon and Xander herded Willow, their weakest fighter, against a crypt and then bracketed her, axes in hand. Giles did his best to keep up with Buffy and guard her back in the melee. Jon and Xander didn't have much to do at first, as most of the vampires concentrated on the biggest apparent threat, namely Buffy.

But there were enough of them that they couldn't all get their licks in ... or try to ... so some of them did end up heading for Jon and Xander. Jon made very short work of any of them stupid enough to get in his range. Xander was pleased to discover that while he was nowhere near racking up Jon's body (dust?) count, he was doing way, way better than he had during the previous school year ... he didn't get grabbed and thrown even once. Even Willow got a couple of licks in, darting in to knife a vampire that was busy trying to fight off Jon and/or Xander.

Within a couple of minutes, there was only dust on the wind. Some seven or so vampires, not including the Anointed One and his stooge, had escaped them, however. Buffy was panting slightly as she wiped her brow.

"Ok, you know what? I'm sort of glad Jon and Jim were remorseless bastards this summer, because otherwise, that would have been a bitch." She said, then looked at Jon. "But so help me, if you tell Jim I said that, I'm going to tell Ms. Calendar you have a crush on her."

Jon sputtered and wrinkled his nose at her. "That's going a bit far, doncha think? We better get the bastard dug up and do something with him."

It didn't take them long to dig the Master back up ... the job had been half-done for them before they'd even got there. Jon kept a sharp ear out for any nonhuman reinforcements as they worked. Once they'd got the bones out of the grave, they wrapped them in a blanket and got out of there.

"So, what do we do with them?" Buffy wanted to know. "Since the acid idea is a no-go?"

"Well, if they need the bones ... I say we pound them to powder, drive out of town somewhere, and dump the powder in the ocean. They're not going to be able to do a damn thing, then." Jon proposed.

"That sounds like it would be the simplest solution, yes." Giles agreed.

"Oh, goodie. Mom even has a sledgehammer." Buffy said with an evil grin.

"Hey, mind if I get a lick or two in?" Xander asked. "I kind of have a few issues with the bastard."

"Be my guest. We can all take turns, for that matter." Buffy said.

Which is exactly what they ended up doing. Even Joyce took a couple swings ... ok, more than a couple ... getting her anger at the Master for damn near killing her daughter out of her system. The next morning, Giles took a brief drive out of Sunnydale and dumped the resultant fine powder into the ocean.

Chapter Text

Frankenstein Part One

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. From here on, unless specifically stated, everything happens in Sunnydale.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 15

Xander nearly fell as he came down the stairs into the basement because he was looking over his shoulder with a rather bewildered expression. Jon, who was already in the basement warming up for patrol, laughed at him.

"Hey. No laughing!" Xander objected, mock-scowling at Jon. "Did you ... ?"

"Yeah, I heard." Jon said. "It's not that weird, Xander."

"Yes, actually, it is. And edging into a bit pathetic. I was hoping that by the time you get to that age, you stop being a nervous, twitchy geek when it comes to asking girls out."

"What age?" Buffy wanted to know. "And who's asking who out?"

"Giles' age. I accidentally overheard him rehearsing to ask Ms. Calendar on a date when I passed by the bathroom." Xander said.

Buffy's eyebrows went up. "Ok ... that's ... "

"Exactly!" Xander said, pointing at her. "That is exactly my point. It's wiggy with a side of weird!"

"We're going to have to tease him later." Buffy decided. "Maybe give him a few pointers." Then she gave herself a mental shake. "Where's Willow?"

"Changing into patrol clothes. She'll be down in a minute." Xander said. He headed over to the mats and started stretching, warming up prior to them heading out on patrol for the evening.

A minute later, both Willow and Giles descended into the basement. Xander somehow managed to not snicker at Giles, but he wasn't quite sure how. They both spent a few minutes stretching and warming up, and then everyone headed out.

About halfway through their patrol, a sour-faced Angel joined them, glaring at Xander and Jon. Xander gave Angel a wide, mock-innocent grin, completely unrepentant about Angel's increasing discomfort and dislike of himself and Jon.

The tail-end of their patrol brought them into one of the many cemeteries in town.

"Buffy and I will go this way." Angel said, motioning to one side.

"No. No you won't." Jon instantly refuted. "Splitting the team up in hostile territory is a very, very bad idea."

Especially when Angel was taking their most able fighter away from the group. There would come a time when splitting up wouldn't be as dangerous, but right now, when Xander and Willow had only a couple months of training under their belts wasn't it.

Buffy looked from Angel to Jon, then sighed. "Angel, we can talk after patrol's over, ok? They have a point."

Angel looked even more sour than before, but didn't push the issue. They started their sweep of the graveyard, Jon listening intently for any sign of movement. Xander walked close enough to him to bump shoulders every few steps or so. It allowed Xander to keep Jon from zoning without either of them having their movement restricted the way it would be if Xander had a hand on Jon's arm or shoulder.

Four vampires and about half the graveyard later, Buffy came perilously close to falling face-first into an open grave. Only Angel's lightning-fast reflexes saved her from the spill.

"Ok, that can't be good." Xander said, staring down. Because it was an open, used grave. That had been, relatively speaking, neatly dug up. The entire length of the casket was fully exposed, rather than there being a simple, torso-sized hole in the earth, which is what happened when newly turned vampires dug their way out of their graves.

"No, indeed it cannot." Giles agreed. "This is not the work of a rising vampire." He glanced around, clearly looking for something ... anything, really, to tell them what the heck had happened. "There are a number of other demons that feed on corpses or parts of corpses, however, so this could be their work."

"Jon?" Xander asked, glancing at him.

Jon frowned, and glanced around before giving his head a shake. "All I smell is humans, and decay." He admitted. "Nothing that stands out as 'not normal' ... but that's not saying much." He pointed. "There are some drag marks there, but they only go about fifteen feet or so. Just far enough to get the body well clear of the grave. Doesn't look like the body was moving under its own power, either. There's shoeprints to either side of the drag marks."

"Like someone was dragging the body out." Buffy said, and Jon nodded.

"Yeah, like I said. Not good. Not good at all." Xander groused.

"Shoeprints eliminates all but a handful of demons." Giles said. "Most demons can't even begin to fit into human clothing, even if they wanted to." He eyed the ground for a moment. "And the most likely suspect, at least here, would be vampires."

Angel shook his head. "Very unlikely to be a vampire's doing. Those that are turned are either left to their own devices or the body is brought to the vampire's lair after the blood exchange so the new vampire can rise in safety. Coming back to dig one out before they rise is only done by a Master when the turning process gets interrupted and they have to leave the body behind. The vast majority of the vampires in town aren't Masters. I'm actually the only one ... and perhaps the Anointed One, but I'm none too sure about that."

"Which leaves humans as the next most likely suspects." Giles said with a heavy sigh. "And the purposes to which a human with ill intentions can put a corpse ... well, needless to say, there are a number of possibilities. We're going to have to keep an eye out, and find out what's going on. Preferably before this gets out of hand. For now, we need to finish patrol."

"Right. Let's get a move on." Buffy said, eyeing the grave one last time. "Xander, you got some paper and a pen?"

"No, but I do." Willow said. "You want me to write down who it is, right? So we can see if there's anything in who this is to give us something to go on?"

"Yep." Buffy said. "Probably won't be, but it's worth a shot."

Willow nodded and pulled a small pad of post-its out of one of the pockets of her tac vest, along with a pen, and jotted down the information so they could do some research later.

About half an hour later, they'd finished their sweep of the cemetery, and their patrol for the night. As she'd promised, Buffy headed off with Angel so they could talk.

"Why am I not liking that?" Xander asked Jon.

"Because you don't like him." Jon pointed out.

"What she sees in him ... " Xander trailed off when Jon gave a full-body shudder.

"Ugh. I don't want to think about it." Jon said. "It gives a whole new meaning to ... certain words."

Xander, being a teenage boy, figured out what Jon was talking about pretty fast, and joined him in the full-body, horrified shudder. "Augh! You bastard! I'm going to get you for that. I did not need to be thinking about that!"

Giles gave them both a glare. "Gentlemen, a bit of decorum, if you please." He scolded.

"Translation: I don't need to think about that either." Xander mock-whispered to Jon, loud enough for Giles and Willow both to hear him.

Willow, not being a teenage boy, was a touch slower on the uptake, but she got it at that point, and her face screwed up. "Ewwww." She complained. "That is just ... ewwww."

Giles just took off his glasses and cleaned them. Xander was fairly sure he heard Giles muttering under his breath, but didn't ask Jon, mostly because he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what, exactly, Giles was muttering.

They headed back to the house, and Giles began rifling through some of the books, looking for the various uses dead bodies could be put to, whether by humans or the handful of demons who could wear human clothing. Willow headed upstairs to do some research on the dug-up body on the computer.

Xander glanced at Jon. "Well, it's not even midnight yet, and I for one am not at all tired. Want to spar or work on your senses for a bit?" He asked.

Jon nodded. "Sure. Bit of both?"

"Sounds good to me." Xander agreed. "Sparring first, since we're still warmed up from patrol?"

Jon nodded, and they both headed onto the mats.

They spent about fifteen minutes working on perfecting moves Xander already knew, before Jon introduced him to a new one. Five minutes into that, Buffy came storming into the basement, looking anything but happy.

"Do you two have to give Angel so much shit?" She asked, sounding very aggravated.

Jon and Xander looked at each other for a moment. "Yes." Came the flat answer from both of them.

"Well lay off a little, all right? He has useful information, and he's a good fighter, and we'll lose that if you two keep it up." Buffy grumped.

Jon and Xander shared another look, which said rather clearly 'who cares'. They didn't say it out loud, however. On the other hand, they didn't agree to go easy on Angel, either. Buffy, not being as stupid as she liked to pretend to be, picked up on that, huffed, and stormed upstairs, muttering under her breath about testosterone poisoned idiocy.

Another look between the two of them, and they went back to sparring. After about another fifteen minutes, they stopped and headed upstairs to clean up and then work on Jon's senses a bit.

The biggest part of Jon learning to use his senses was learning to identify what certain sounds and scents were. Having enhanced senses was more or less worthless if you had no idea what it was you were picking up, or couldn't tell the difference between a sound as heard on TV and one heard in real life.

Blair had been invaluable in getting them started on the process, and they'd made a good amount of headway while they'd been in Cascade, but it was an ongoing process. The process also served as practice in avoiding spikes and zones, so it served a dual purpose.

Tonight's plan was to go through Joyce's cupboard of cleaning products, to learn the differences in their smells, since Blair had only had Jim-friendly cleaning products in the Cascade apartment. Xander planned to drag Jon to the supermarket later, to sample the smells of every cleaner and laundry soap on offer.

Jim'd had to do something similar early on, and according to him, it had come in handy on more than one case. Jon wouldn't exactly be working police cases, but you never knew when knowing the difference in smell between two laundry soaps might come in handy. Xander had also talked to Giles about obtaining samples of skin and blood from the most common demons, so Jon would be able to clearly identify them, rather than having to attempt to describe what he was smelling in an attempt to identify what demon they were after.

September 16

Willow had found out a few things about their ... well, victim, Xander supposed. The girl was, to their surprise, the victim of an honest-to-goodness accident, rather than the 'accidents' that most demon-related deaths were attributed to. Evidently the car she and two of her friends were in crashed, and all three girls were killed. There was no immediate evidence of demonic activity as the cause of the crash, which was rather startling.

There was, in point of fact, nothing in what Willow found to provide a reason for her to be chosen to be dug up. It left the cause a mystery still, which none of them was fond of, but there wasn't anything they could do about it right then, because they had to get through the school day.

They dropped Willow off at the big announcement corkboard, so she could sign up for the science fair, as she did every year. Xander was actually half-tempted to join himself, or help Willow, just so he could do something wacky and throw people for a loop. In the end, he decided against it. He had enough on his plate dealing with the whole Sentinel/Guide thing, trying to get passing grades, and fighting demons. Xander managed to push the questions about the girl whose body had been dug up to the back of his mind.

BTVSBTVS

Cordelia muttered disgustedly as she exited the gym after cheerleading practice. Really, what did the girls expect? They were pathetic, and not even trying, and really, at this point Cordelia was almost convinced that Buffy could do better, which was saying something.

She was so busy with her mental commentary on the faults of the cheerleading team that it took her a minute to realize something was ... not right. But about halfway across the parking lot, she did finally take notice. What was wrong, she didn't know, but she was suddenly very uneasy, and staring around herself, looking for a threat she sensed but couldn't see.

Another few feet along, and her heart was hammering and there were goosebumps all up and down her arms. She had the distinct, disquieting feeling that she was being watched. Where from, considering there weren't all that many cars in the parking lot, and not much else to hide behind, she didn't know, but ... she was being watched.

Spooked, she took off at a tangent away from her car, reasoning that if someone was following her, they might know what her car looked like and be lying in wait near it for her. Unfortunately, the sensation of being watched didn't receed, and before she quite knew what she was doing, she was running flat-out, instinctively trying to flee from the danger she still couldn't see.

She skidded around the corner and glanced around for a likely hiding place. The only option open to her was a dumpster. Grimacing in distaste at the necessity, she nevertheless climbed in and tried to quiet her breathing.

After about five minutes, the sensation of being watched faded, and Cordelia started to climb out.

Only to come face to face with Angel.

She screamed at the top of her lungs and took a wild swing at him in her startlement, then took another swing a few moments later when the fear turned to anger.

"You bastard! Was that you following me? Are you really that pathetic that you have to resort to stalking people?" She yelled.

"Cordelia. Come out of the dumpster." Angel said, offering her a hand.

Cordelia blinked at him. There was something ... odd ... about the tone of his voice. After a second she shrugged it off, and accepted the hand.

Unfortunately, in the process of climbing out ... she looked down.

The dumpster was half-full of human body parts.

Cordelia began to scream and flail in earnest.

Chapter Text

Frankenstein Part Two

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 16

As had become the norm, everyone was in the basement warming up prior to heading out on patrol when Jon's head snapped up, and he leveled a lethal glare at the door leading to the side yard.

"Angel's coming." Jon half-growled. "And he's got someone with him who is very, very not happy to be there. Their heartrate's through the roof and I can hear muffled attempts at yelling."

It really didn't help Angel's case that it sounded like he was kicking the door when he got close enough to it to knock. Giles, who happened to be closest, opened the door.

"Angel. Might I inquire as to why you have a blood-smeared Cordelia Chase pinned in your grasp?" Giles asked.

Xander exchanged a look with Jon, because there had been an edge to Giles' voice that Xander had never heard before. Something hard and ... dangerous. Which really didn't fit with the Giles Xander knew.

"Just let me in. It's not what it looks like." Angel groused. "She's flipping out for a damn good reason that has nothing to do with me."

Giles quit blocking his way, and then Xander could see what both Jon and Giles had meant. Cordelia's clothes were smeared with blood from the knees down, and she was wild-eyed and visibly shaking in Angel's grasp. Amusingly, it looked like she'd tried to bite Angel at least once, if the red teeth marks on his hand were any indication. She was also still trying to yell.

Joyce, who'd joined them during their warmup, was the first to get moving. "Buffy, be a dear and run upstairs, grab some of my clothes. They'll come the closest to fitting. I dare say Cordelia wants no part of what she's got on at the moment." She said.

"Right!" Buffy said, and hurried up the stairs.

In the meantime, Joyce pulled Cordelia from Angel. Cordelia took the opportunity to take a swing at Angel, but between his reflexes and the fact she was shaking so hard she could barely keep her feet, she missed by a mile. At that point, Joyce gently steered her towards the shower that had been installed for messy slay events.

"I think you might feel a bit better getting out of those." Joyce told Cordelia. It was a measure of how freaked out Cordelia was that she didn't even attempt to argue.

"So what the hell happened?" Xander wanted to know, once the two of them were out of sight in the shower area.

"I was patrolling solo." Angel said. "And picked up on the smell of rotting human bodies. So I started tracking it. Followed it to a dumpster near the school. She was in it. Why, I have no idea. She also had no idea what she was standing in, because she didn't start screaming and flailing until she looked down while getting out."

"And what was she standing in?" Giles asked, sounding like he dreaded the answer. Not that Xander blamed him.

"Human body parts. The dumpster was half full of them."

"Oh, that's great." Jon said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Anyway, I couldn't get her to calm down, so I brought her here." Angel said.

"Yeah, I don't think being manhandled by a vampire would have been very comforting to her." Xander muttered.

For a moment, Xander wondered if Angel was going to hit him, he was leveling such a lethal glare. "I'll head back to the dumpster. See what I can find out." Angel said at length, then swept out, closing the door behind him.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Xander."

Xander grimaced. "Sorry. I actually didn't mean it quite the way he took it." He said. And while, yes, he took pleasure in kicking Angel's shins, he'd not really been meaning to, that time. He'd just meant that after realizing she'd been standing in a bin of body parts, having to deal with something that ... well, wasn't quite alive, at least not in the traditional sense, couldn't have helped matters. Joyce came back into the main part of the basement about then. "How's she doing?" Xander asked.

Joyce sighed. "She's very shaken." She said. "Not that I blame her. I'd be freaking out more than a little bit too."

"No kidding." Jon said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Cordelia came out of the shower area about fifteen minutes later, dressed in some of Joyce's clothes. She was still shaking and looking very nervous, but she had calmed down a little bit.

"What happened, Queen C?" Xander asked, hoping that getting her focused on him, with her tendency to snark at him, might help.

Sure enough, Cordelia gave him a glare. "I was heading for my car after practice, which, those girls are stupid and incompetent. I mean, really. Half of them can't manage a proper cartwheel, nevermind something as complex as doing them together." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I was heading for my car, when I got to feeling like I was being watched, or followed or something. There wasn't exactly a lot of cover in the parking lot, so I figured whoever it was was near my car and took off in another direction."

Not a bad line of thinking, Xander admitted.

"Whoever it was ... well, the feeling refused to go away. So I ended up ... " She swallowed hard and gave a convulsive shudder. "Well, I ended up where I ended up. When the feeling finally went away, I started to climb out, except he." Cordy waved a hand, indicating the door and the departed Angel. "Was there. I ended up hitting him a few times before he told me to get out." Another convulsive shudder, and this time Cordelia didn't continue. Not that it mattered, really, since they'd gotten what had happened at that point from Angel.

It took another half hour for Cordelia to calm down completely, and about the time she did, she collapsed into sleep, having obviously worn herself out. Shortly after that, Angel returned, looking very grim.

"All the body parts were female." He said. "And dead anywhere from a day to a week before they got in the dumpster."

"The grave the other night." Buffy said. "The girl that got dug up."

Angel nodded. "I have no way of knowing if she was in there, but ... someone is digging up freshly dead females and cutting them apart. Neatly. All the sections were almost surgically precise. Definitely not the work of a demon. They just bite, claw or yank."

"But why?" Buffy wanted to know. "That's what makes no sense. Why would they be digging up girls and cutting them into chunks?"

"And does it have anything to do with Cordelia getting stalked?" Xander wanted to know. "And if so, why?"

Suddenly, Willow sat straight up. "Wait. Wait a second. Remember when you guys dropped me off at the message board?" She asked. "I signed up, and Chris and his friend were there. I got to talking to Chris for a bit, and while I was doing that, Eric had a camera with him, and was taking pictures. But he's not on the yearbook committee, or the newspaper committee, and if I remember right, it was mostly girls he took pictures of. Even me."

Everyone exchanged looks. "Ok, so ... we at least have something to start with." Jon said. "Even if it proves to be nothing. I vote we go check the school. They might have left some sort of evidence to what they're up to there."

"That sounds like a wise decision." Giles agreed. "We had best get going."

It didn't take the group long to get to the school. Almost immediately, Jon, who'd dialed up his sense of smell, wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Dead bodies." He said. "They definitely left something hanging around."

It didn't take them long to track it down. There was a handful of body parts in Chris' friend's locker ... fingers and toes, part of a wrist and ankle. All, evidently, discards yet to be gotten rid of, as they showed considerable signs of decay. Chris' locker had medical-school level texts on the nervous system and various other body systems, as well as detailed diagrams and pictures of a body mid-surgery for various surgeries. They also found a neat folder of pictures of a number of girls, along with a number of obituaries, again all for girls.

"Ok, is this creeping anyone else right the hell out?" Buffy demanded, staring at their finds in horror.

Xander raised a hand, as did Willow. Giles and Jon didn't, but they both looked like they agreed with Buffy wholeheartedly despite that.

"It sort of looks like they're going all Frankenstein's Bride on us." Xander offered. "Building a girl from dead parts, I mean."

That got him more than one look that said 'you geek', but then Buffy got a thoughtful look on her face. "Wait ... what if that's what they're doing? I mean, c'mon, it's not like weird shit doesn't happen around here. Maybe they watched the movie and decided it could be done in real life."

Xander looked very unhappy after a minute. "If they are ... the brain is going to have to be ... fresh."

Willow got it. "Cordelia!" She yelped. "They want her for the brain."

Jon whipped out his cellphone and hit the speed dial. A few moments later, Joyce must have answered. "Joyce, lock the house down. Someone's after Cordelia. We'll be back as fast as we can." He shut his cellphone and looked at the others. "We need to shut this down, fast. Where would they be doing this, if we're right?"

"They'd need somewhere with access to high voltage electricity." Xander said. "Higher than normal. Which really doesn't help narrow it down too much. Factories, the military base ... they'd all have access to that sort of electricity output."

"That sort of electricity, but no reason for dead-body smell." Jon pointed out. "We'll check it out tomorrow. right now, we need to get back and keep an eye on Cordelia. They may try for her again yet tonight, depending on how desperate they are."

Xander wasn't about to disagree with that, and neither did anyone else, not even Angel. They all headed back home. At the edge of the property, Jon tensed up, eyes narrowing to slits.

"They've been here." He said. "Been and left. Watched for a bit, I think. Hard to tell. Might've been casing the house to try to break in later."

"Yeah. Not happening." Xander said, glaring into the darkness. "Let's get inside and make sure they're both all right."

"I'll patrol the block, make sure they don't sneak back." Angel said, veering off into the darkness.

Xander gave a purely mental snort. Like he was going to trust Angel to watch their backs? Hah. Evidently, Jon agreed with him wholeheartedly, as he started prowling the entire house as soon as he got inside, poking his nose into every crevice and cranny as if Chris and Eric could hide from him, despite his senses.

Once he'd done a prowl and reassured himself no one was in the house that shouldn't be, he opened all the downstairs doors (inside the house, of course) and grabbed a chair from the kitchen. He set the chair in the hallway next to the stairs, where he'd be able to reach any given room in any of the three floors within seconds. He'd also produced a gun from ... well, Xander wasn't entirely sure where, but Jon had it resting in his lap, with a crossbow and some bolts resting against the wall beside him in case something nonhuman came through.

He was clearly setting up to keep watch all night. Xander rolled his eyes and settled down on the floor next to Jon, which got him a look.

"What're you ... " Jon started.

"Keeping watch with you. You really think you can keep your senses going all night without having a problem?" Xander challenged him. "And even if you could, I know you're really a big, bad soldier but staying awake all night's easier when you've got company."

Jon glared for a moment, then huffed, admitting defeat.

Xander was woken the next morning by a camera flash, and several female voices cooing rather ostentatiously. He jerked into a more upright position, blinking blearily at a camera-wielding Joyce, Willow, and an openly laughing Cordelia. "Wha?"

Jon was looking down at him with nearly as much amusement as Cordelia. "You fell asleep a couple hours ago." He said.

And had, given where he was sitting, evidently ended up with his head in Jon's lap, which would explain the cooing and laughing. He tried to summon a glower, but from their expressions, it really didn't work. "Fine, fine, whatever. School. Let's go." He clambered to his feet. "Sorry about that, Jon."

"Not the first time something like that's happened. Lost track of the number of times Sam ... " Jon started, then grimaced, glared at the wall, and defiantly completed the thought. " ... and Daniel ended up falling asleep on me."

Xander reached over and gripped his shoulder. He couldn't begin to figure out how the hell Jon dealt with it ... having the memories of a lifetime, but not having that life, and having absolutely no chance of ever having that life.

Jon shook it off after a moment. "Right. School. Then finding where those idiots are building their Bride, and shutting them down."

"Definitely a plan." Willow agreed.

The school day was, mercifully, trouble-free, though Xander noticed that Chris and Eric both seemed ... twitchy, as if they knew they'd been found out, despite the fact the Scoobies hadn't actually removed anything from either locker, for fear of them realizing the jig was up and either moving everything or jumping the first available girl, rather than the one they preferred for the brain.

There was some fun to be had, though, because Buffy reported after lunch that Ms. Calendar had made all Giles' hemming and hawing useless, inviting him out on a date that evening. Giles had, evidently, been a bit gobsmacked for a minute before he accepted. Xander resolved to give Giles a hard time later. It was too good an opportunity to miss. He also made a mental note to do what they could to not drag Giles out of his date.

Jon and Xander headed out immediately after school, trying to find where the boys were putting the body together at. It wasn't until two hours after dark ... and a chance run by the school ... that they finally caught a break. Because one of the two boys ... Jon didn't catch more than the briefest glimpse before they disappeared, so he wasn't sure which one it was ... headed into the old science building, and Jon caught a whiff of decayed body smell.

Jon immediately called Buffy, who was doing patrol with Angel, and Willow, who was at the house with Joyce and a still-shaken Cordelia, who had been entirely too willing to take refuge at the Summers House until the whole mess was dealt with.

Once everyone arrived, they snuck into the building and poked around until they found access to an evidently long-forgotten basement area under the building.

Despite suspecting the two boys of trying for a Frankenstein's Bride, they weren't quite prepared for what they found down there. The place looked like someone had deliberately tried to recreate as much of the lab from the movie as was humanly possible in real life. Complete with the cobbled-together generator and the table with the covered body.

Complete, in point of fact, they found out a few seconds later, with Frankenstein himself, as someone shuffled out of the darkest corner of the basement, revealing themself to be ... well ... stitched together quite a bit.

"My kingdom for a flamethrower." Xander snarked.

"Incendiary grenade good enough?" Jon asked.

Xander glanced at him. "I think I love you." He said.

"I think I had best leave before you set that off." Angel noted. Vampires and fire didn't mix well.

At that point Chris and Eric appeared from some corner or other, and the fight was on.

They were all somewhat hampered by the fairly close quarters and prevalence of very breakable ... stuff ... but eventually, Eric and Chris were both unconscious and shoved towards the stairs to the upper floor. Angel, who had retreated so as not to be in danger from the fire Jon planned to set off, as well as a lack of room for more fighters, pulled the two boys up the stairs and out of the way.

The Frankenstein ... was proving to be a bit more problematic. Buffy had concentrated on it, but it didn't seem to feel pain ... one of its arms was clearly broken but it was still trying to kick her ass as if it wasn't.

With the two boys clear, Jon herded Willow and Xander up the stairs. "Buffy! Pull back. Gonna blow the place!"

Buffy nodded, grabbed the nearest sturdy piece of furniture (a stool, as it happened) and swung for the fences, connecting hard with the Frankenstein, sending it, at least temporarily, ass over teakettle. Long enough for her to head for the generator and start yanking cords and pushing buttons until the thing started to spark and whine, at which point she raced for the stairs. Jon chucked an incendiary grenade into the room by the generator just to be sure, and then hurried after her, urging everyone out and away from the building.

The resultant explosion and fire was ... rather spectacular. When the dust finally settled and all was quiet again for a while, Jon grinned. "No sound of movement. We got it." Then he swung to look at the two boys. "You two." He half-growled. "Are in such deep shit."

Chapter Text

Spike and Dru Part 1

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 29

Buffy stared at Principal Snyder, one eyebrow raised, then looked over at Sheila before giving a mental snort. Wait until her mother heard about this one. Snyder would never know what hit him. Trying to expel her if she does a bad job decorating for something ... yeah. She totally wanted to be there when her mother read this idiot the riot act. It would be a thing of beauty.

She walked out without saying anything, not willing to give the troll his jollies by acting at all concerned. Sheila didn't look worried either, but Buffy had a feeling it was for a different reason. Ah well.

The troll's bullying aside, Buffy did plan to decorate. Because Xander was going to have a parent here for parent-teacher night for the first time ever. Jim had called yesterday, the meeting had come up, and Jim had promptly arranged for a long weekend to come hang out.

Buffy fought down a grin. Xander had been ... a lot happier, the last few months. It was good to see on him. She hadn't known him anywhere near as long as Willow had, but she'd been aware that he hadn't been a happy camper last year, and for more reasons than the death of Jessie. Between Jim and Jon, Xander was ... well, as happy and content as someone living on a hellmouth could be, really.

Speaking of, Xander bounced up to her as she headed for her first class.

"So, what did the troll want?" Xander asked.

"To get his ass kicked by my mom." Buffy told him. "He threatened to expel me if I did a shitty job decorating for parent-teacher night."

Xander stopped in his tracks and stared at her for a moment, mouth half-open. "You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"Your mother is going to crucify him." Xander said firmly, then grinned. "Can I come watch?"

Buffy snickered. "Hopefully so, but I dunno. If everyone comes to watch that will want to, there will be quite an audience."

"Good point." Xander said with his own snicker.

Jon loped up at that point. "So, Snyder's put his name in for an ass-kicking. Too bad Jim won't be here until Thursday. They could tag-team him."

Buffy and Xander both laughed at that. "Oh, that would be evil." Xander pointed out. "I mean, Joyce is going to be bad enough. If we added Jim into it we'd need ... " He stopped, thought about what he'd been about to say, then grinned at Jon. "Damn, you're right. It is too bad they can't tag team him." He said. "We'd have a new principal then."

The rest of the day was sadly devoid of anything interesting outside of schoolwork. Once informed of Snyder's demands, Willow had been as amused as the others had been. Once the day was done they all trooped home.

Xander was still adjusting to having adults that gave a damn about him around all the time, so he had a big grin on his face when they walked into the house and got greeted by Joyce. Even Jon got a brief hug, much to his (continued, this was hardly a new phenomenon) chagrin.

"Mom, you are never going to believe what the troll tried to do today." Buffy said as they trooped into the kitchen to unpack their bookbags and finish whatever homework they'd not been able to do while at school. "He pulled me and Sheila into the office and threatened to expel whichever one of us did a crappier job at decorating for parent-teacher night."

Joyce's eyebrows hit her hairline. "Oh really now. I shall have to have a few words with that man." She shot a look at them all when they all started to snicker. "What has you so amused?" She wanted to know.

"Just anticipating you stomping a mudhole in the troll." Xander said. "We've been snickering about it on and off all day." He frowned at the homework in front of him. "I hate social studies." He groused.

Joyce gave Xander an amused look. "Oh really?"

Xander grinned at her. "It's a compliment, really. You're kind of on the fierce side." He pointed out. "You sort of looked like you wanted to take a sword or something to everything in sight that time we took you on patrol with us."

"He's got a point, mom." Buffy pointed out, grinning.

Joyce shook her head at their antics. "Well, your principal will be finding out if you're right about me or not tomorrow morning." She told them. "I'll not have any of this expelling you for specious reasons. If you earn it, that's one thing, but not decorating good enough is not an expellable offense."

BTVSBTVSBTVS

Spike smirked as he ran down the welcome sign for Sunnydale.

Ahhh, the hellmouth. He could practically taste the evil the thing poured out, could feel it tugging at his demon, encouraging it to be more vicious, more violent. Not that he, of all vampires, needed much help with that.

He glanced over his shoulder at the back seat, grateful that Dru had fallen asleep. She'd been driving him barmier than usual the last few months with her jabber about Miss Edith and the stars, Sunnydale and the Grand Pouf. A couple of times, it'd been all he could do to keep her from racing out into broad daylight in her efforts to go save her 'daddy'. Other times, it'd taken every ounce of connivery he possessed to draw her out of whatever corner she'd jammed herself into, gibbering in terror.

Whatever was going on in Sunnydale, it was big. Dru might be nuttier than a fruitcake, which made her visions unreliable, but Spike had long since learned to listen when she babbled about the same thing consistently. She might not have the details right, but if she was seeing something again and again, it was something that needed worrying about.

It had all culminated in that mess in Prague. Now, Dru was in bad shape, and the Hellmouth was really her only hope. So he'd given in and got them moving towards Sunnydale. It'd helped that he'd heard rumor the newest Slayer was there. He'd been getting bored with the usual hunts, lately. It was about time for him to test his mettle against a Slayer again.

Spike drove until he found a warehouse he liked the looks of, and pulled the DeSoto inside. That done, he slipped out to go get the lay of the land. Dru'd be safe enough where she was for now.

He beat up (and dusted) a couple minions to get a bit of information, among which was that the Master was dead and, if not fully dusted, then definitely unavailable for resurrection by any means. Which had, evidently, been attempted by his successor, called the Anointed One. The lair had also been moved from its old place to a warehouse.

Spike found the warehouse and slipped inside, crouching in the rafters, watching the assembled vampires and snorting in disgust. The Anointed One? What a crock of shit. Was nothing but a kid, playing at being a Master and making the mindless dregs bow to him.

He actually laughed out loud when they started talking about challenging the Slayer on St. Vigeous, and dropped from the rafters, landing neatly and then prowling around the group.

"You lot are pathetic." He fairly laughed. "Prayin' ta a dusted vamp for strength enough ta challenge a Slayer."

The Anointed One gave him a look that Spike suspected was supposed to be angry and challenging, but with a child's face came across as petulant. "And who might you be, to barge in here and mock your betters?"

Spike laughed again. "I'd be Spike, mate. Also known as William the Bloody, one of the Scourge, and slayer of Slayers." He smirked at the lot of them, daring one of them to be dumb enough to try to jump him. "Ain't needed to pray to a dead vamp yet ta have what it takes ta take down a Slayer. You lot want the bint out of the way, I can get it done."

Spike could literally see the power in the room shifting as the minions around the miniature wanker responded to his complete lack of concern about both the kid and the Slayer. New-risen minions tended to do that, gravitating towards the most powerful vampire in their vicinity. Better yet, the baby wanker knew it too ... and couldn't do a damn thing about it evidently.

Oh, Spike imagined the kid might've been something ... in about fifty or sixty years. There was an edge of 'something different' to him that Spike couldn't place. Unfortunately, the kid was damn near as newly risen as the minions bowing to him, and whatever ability he might have was clearly not fully developed yet, or he'd be using it. He gave a contemptuous snort and whirled, his duster flaring out behind him as he stalked out.

Now to find the Slayer and get a good look at how she fought.

A half an hour later, he'd tracked her down ... and discovered why Dru'd been frothing so badly. This Slayer wasn't working alone.

"Watchers must love that." He muttered, watching the group. The sight of his sire slouching along with them, looking miserably unhappy, made him want to laugh and snarl at the same time. So this is what Angelus had been reduced to ... tagalong helper to a Slayer. Pathetic.

He followed them, keeping to the rooftops, as they patrolled around town. The news wasn't good. Not only did this Slayer travel in a pack ... both she and the pack were better trained and equipped than the norm. The others with her (minus Angel) were all wearing military gear, boots and vests, and the vests had all sorts of goodies in the pockets from what he saw them use as they patrolled. There were two crossbows and enough arrows to make even him twitchy, as well as a couple of axes that he saw being put to use.

The Slayer herself fought with a focused brutality and economy, wasting very little energy and movement in the effort to kill whatever demons they came across. Spike hadn't seen the like since the Chinese Slayer. Yet it was clear that she wasn't a brainwashed automaton, either. She laughed and joked and seemed to be quite comfortable with her helpers.

The helpers were ... odd ducks. The redhead that tended to stay at the center of the group was clearly the weakest link, but she was close-guarded. The tow-headed teenager confused him. The kid moved and acted like a combat vet, but there was no way in hell a teenager could possibly be one. The dark-haired kid was a bouncy goof between attacks, but once a demon popped up, he was nearly as focused as the Slayer, though nowhere near as deadly. Yet. Spike had a feeling that given a year or two, the kid would be as close to a Slayer's equal as humanly possible, like his tow-headed friend.

"What the hell have you got yourself into, Angel?" Spike asked aloud.

It was just as well he was watching them so closely, or he'dve missed what happened next. The tow-head said something, and in the space of about two seconds, one of the crossbows was in the Slayer's hands and an arrow was slamming into the brick wall at his feet, missing his leg by less than an inch. Spike cursed and scrambled for cover, even as two more arrows sang through the air, both narrowly missing him. Only when he'd gotten several walls between himself and the Slayer did he stop to gather his wits.

What the bloody hell?

BTVSBTVSBTVS

"Damn, we missed." Jon whined. "Bastard moved fast, I'll give him that."

"Hopefully he'll decide Sunnydale's too much bother and go away." Buffy said.

"And if he doesn't, he's going to be ridiculously easy to spot and track, with that neon white hair." Jon said with a snort.

That comment made Angel stiffen. "Neon white hair?" He asked.

Jon eyed him. "Yeah. And he seemed to know you. Called you by name."

"Damnit." Angel cursed, then sighed. "I think I know who it is. Not entirely sure, but there's a high probability."

"And who would he be, then?" Xander asked, finally chiming in.

"Spike. He's dangerous. Has killed two slayers, and he's only a little over a century old. The first one he killed when he'd been turned for only twenty years, and it wasn't by accident or thanks to getting to her after she'd been worked over by bigger, nastier oppenents. He deliberately hunted and challenged her when she was well rested."

That news made them all cringe a little. "So he's a good fighter, then?" Willow asked.

"One of the best. There aren't too many vampires out there who can challenge him ... and most of the ones who can are a good fifty years or more older than he is." Angel said, looking rather sour at having to admit it.

"And you know all this ... how?" Xander demanded.

"He's my Childe." Angel admitted. "I haven't seen him since the second world war, though, and even then only briefly."

The Scoobies traded looks before Buffy stepped in. "Well, we can't get mad at you for not telling us about someone you didn't even know if they were still around." She said.

"You need to be careful. There can really be only one reason why he's here." Angel pointed out.

That made both Xander and Jon make amused noises. "Let him try. He's going to get a few surprises." Xander said. "Buffy's got way more backup than most Slayers ever did."

"I'll try to figure out what he's up to." Angel said. "With some luck, I can head him off."

Xander shot Jon a look, and Jon returned it, a look that said 'yeah, we're really going to depend on you to drive him off. Not'. "Whatever. Just make sure he understands he'll be dust if he crosses us." Jon growled.

Angel made another face before he headed into the darkness to track his wayward childe down.

Chapter Text

Spike and Dru Part 2

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. To clarify: Dru bit and drained Spike, but was unable to teach him to be a vampire. Angelus did that. As a result, Angel and Spike consider each other Sire and Childe.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

September 29

Spike hustled it back to the warehouse, worried that the Slayer had found the place. He breathed a mental sigh of relief when he found Dru right where he'd put her, unharmed.

This, he reflected, was going to be a hell of a challenge. He'd have to account not only for the Slayer's skills, but that of her cohort. Which meant figuring out how in the name of hell they'd heard him. He'd been entirely too far away for a Slayer to hear him ... he'd made damn sure of that. He supposed the tow-headed teen might be part-demon. There were quite a few who could interbreed with humans, and demons generally had much better senses than even a Slayer did.

That answer, however, opened up an entirely new can of questions. As did his sire's presence in the hunting party. What in the name of hell was a Slayer doing trusting a demon ... any demon ... at her back? Much less his wanker of a sire. The long and the short of it was that Spike needed information before he tried anything.

Time to arrange for some intensive scouting. But this time, he was going to make a minion do it. If Angel had warned them about him, they'd be expecting him to do his own scouting, and having someone else do it would throw them off the scent.

Were Spike any other vampire, that would have meant sending a minion to stalk the Slayer barehanded. But Spike, unlike most vampires, did not underestimate or harbor total disdain for humans. He was well aware that there were pure humans who could hold off or even dust a vampire without massive amounts of trouble. And not all of those humans were in the military. Humans, he knew, were clever blighters who compensated for their lack of strength, natural armor and weapons with an clever, inventive streak that allowed them to build technology and fighting techniques that evened the odds considerably.

And unlike the vast majority of vampires, Spike had made a point of learning to operate the technology that humans invented during his unlife. Vampires had an unfortunate tendency to stick to the fashions and technology of the era they were turned in. It tended to make them stick out like sore thumbs within a few years. Spike, on the other hand, had adapted with the times. It had contributed greatly to his continued survival, because he didn't stick out quite as obviously.

Spike reassured himself one last time that Dru was all right and settled, then headed out to the nearest electronics store. He needed a camcorder, tape, and some batteries. And a young, newly turned geek minion that would know how to work the thing.

Luck was with him. Obtaining the equipment he needed was painfully easy, of course, but he ran into a small knot of minions after he'd left, one of whom was the sort of pimply-faced teenager he associated with being a tech geek of some stripe. And they'd been turned very recently ... within the last six months or so, if he was any judge.

Like most of the minions he'd run into, the kid had the reek of the Aurelius clan on him, though Spike could tell he hadn't been turned by any of the clan Masters, but by a fellow Aurelius minion. It'd been as easy as draining a baby to get the minion to do what he wanted. If the minion survived stalking the Slayer the rest of the night, he'd consider learning, nevermind remembering, the kid's name. Until then, Spike headed back to the warehouse, snagging a couple of unwary town residents for his and Dru's dinner as he went. Provided she would eat. It had been surprisingly difficult to get her to do so since she'd fallen ill.

BTVSBTVSBTVS

Angel's intentions to hunt Spike down, kick his ass and throw him out of town were completely thwarted. Mostly because he was operating with very out of date information on how Spike did things. The last time he'd spent more than a day in Spike's company had been back in the forties, after all.

But Angel had made a mistake common to most vampires, in that he assumed that Spike hadn't really changed much. Most vampires didn't, after all. Even he hadn't, despite the soul. It was as well he didn't find Spike, as Angel hadn't done much fighting in the last hundred years. A confrontation between himself and Spike would not have gone the way Angel assumed it would.

The (temporarily) nameless minion did as Spike had bid him and filmed the Scooby crew patrolling for about an hour before they returned to the Summers house. Having been warned by Spike to keep his distance and silence, the minion managed to survive tracking them, and found his way to the warehouse Spike had appropriated for himself and Dru.

Spike watched the hour of tape, and didn't see any massive changes in how the group had handled things when he'd been watching. Somewhat reluctantly, he admitted, if only to himself, that the pathetic wankers following the so-called Anointed One might have had the right idea, waiting for St. Vigeous to do anything. At the very least, it'd give him a couple days of watching the group to figure out a plan.

September 30

There was more than a small amount of anticipation as Buffy, Jon, Willow, and Xander got ready for school that morning. The grimly determined look on Joyce's face, and the knowledge she was going to pin Snyder to the floor was probably responsible for that. Ok, not probably. Definitely.

Joyce drove them to school that morning, and headed straight for Snyder's office. The four teens followed her at a slight distance, trying to look like they weren't following her and mostly failing at it. They did, however, time their arrival such that the door to Snyder's office had closed, with him and Joyce on the other side, allowing the four teens to eavesdrop without being too blatantly obvious about it.

"Principal Snyder." Joyce said, sounding calm and at ease. "You and I have some things we need to discuss."

"You're moving, and taking that menace of yours with you?" Snyder asked.

Joyce gave the balding man a smile that was more teeth and aggression than anything else. "Quite the contrary, Principle Snyder. I am here to inform you that you will cease and desist all attempts at bullying my daughter, or trying to expel her for specious reasons. If you do not, I will be reporting you directly to the California Board of Education, and ensuring that you are not only fired from your post here, but are unable to find employ anywhere in the United States as an educator of any description."

She leaned over the desk a little, tapping its surface with one fingernail. "Do not test me, Principal Snyder. You will not like the outcome. And lest you think you have free reign to turn your odious attentions to my daughter's friends, I remind you that Willow's parents are respected child psychologists, and Xander's father is a well-respected ex-Army Ranger and current police officer. Between us, we can make your life ... very difficult."

Even if Willow's parents were liable to not get in on the fun, as they mostly seemed to ignore her, which annoyed Joyce to no end. Jim, at least, would stomp a mudhole in this idiot for messing with Xander. And Jon ... well, he didn't precisely have parents, but Joyce sincerely pitied anyone that drew the attention of Jack O'Neill and his friends, from what she'd heard of them.

Joyce didn't give Snyder a chance to respond. She simply turned and walked out of his office, only to laugh when she nearly ran down the four teens in her charge.

"All right, you lot. Class will begin shortly. You need to get a move on." She pointed out.

The four teens grinned shamelessly at her before they scattered to get to their first classes of the day, snickering just audibly as they went. Joyce shook her head in amusement and headed for her car.

BTVSBTVSBTVS

That evening, the gang got together just after dusk as had become their norm.

"Any luck finding Spike?" Xander asked Angel.

"Unfortunately, no." Angel sighed. "He's probably actively trying to hide from me, which will complicate me finding him."

"Well, I was able to find a bit more information on him in the Watcher's diaries." Giles spoke up. "Since you don't know what he's been up to for the most part." He glanced at the four teens. "We must be exceedingly cautious of Spike. He is ... quite dangerous."

"Yeah, Deadboy said that last night." Jon said. "But dangerous how?"

"He ... seems to be rather unusual, as vampires go. Vampires, for the most part, do not change much over time. They stick with technology, fashions, and the like from the general time when they were turned, give or take a decade or so. Spike is ... far more adaptable than the norm for a vampire. He has been seen using technology that simply didn't exist when he was turned with ease, has changed the style of clothes he wears several times, though he does seem to have settled on his current look roughly twenty or so years ago and not changed it much since. He is very accomplished when it comes to psychological warfare and torture, as I found several mentions of him, I believe the popular phrase now is 'psyching out' an opponent." Giles said. "And other mentions of him forcing information out of beings in various ways via torture. In fact, the only thing that seems to be consistent with him is the fact that when he tortures someone, he kills them by driving railroad spikes through their eyes and into their brains, which is evidently where he got his name from."

That made all four of them grimace and/or flinch. "So clever, capable, and ruthless as hell." Jon summarized. "Otherwise known as 'dust on sight'. Gotcha."

He made a mental note to work some more on the crossbow so that he would be able to shoot the fucker, rather than having to pass the shot off to Buffy. Loading and firing a crossbow was different enough from loading and firing even a sniper rifle that Jon was having to learn to wield a crossbow from scratch. Too bad they didn't have the time or facilities to come up with a workable wooden bullet. Maybe he'd ask Sam to come up with something. Just to drive her nuts. Or, more nuts, since the whole 'magic and demons exist' thing had to be driving her up the wall already. He was frankly shocked that she wasn't pestering holy hell out of Giles for information.

They headed out soon thereafter. Angel split off early to try to find Spike again. There wasn't all that much to do, either. It seemed like the vampire and demon population was only beginning to build back up. Jon was rather grateful for that, as it was allowing them to ease into the whole patrolling and fighting as a group thing. It did make him a bit twitchy, though, as experience had taught him that the longer things were quiet, the bigger the problem would be when the quiet was finally broken.

They were unaware that they were being followed and filmed. The minion Spike had given the assignment to managed to keep so close to totally silent that what little noise he did make got lost in the background shuffle, even to Jon's sensitive ears.

October 2

Angel didn't find Spike Tuesday or Wednesday night, and the Scoobies were unaware of being filmed both nights.

Thanks to those two nights' recordings, Spike had come to some uncomfortable conclusions. First, and most important ... this was a group that even he would hesitate to tackle. The redhead (Willow, Spike had learned her name was, through the videos) was their weakest link, but as he'd noticed that first night, she was closely guarded, never left alone for even a minute, so physically attacking her wouldn't be easy. Nor would attacking any of the group that wasn't the Slayer be easy. They were smart enough to never go anywhere alone at night, to always have at least one other person to watch their back. Even the Slayer never went anywhere alone.

And while some brand of psychological warfare might be successful, that was going to be a long-term process, as he would have to figure out where their weak spots were, where the cracks in their group armor were located. Not impossible, as every group had some sort of weak point that could be used against them, in Spike's experience, but not exactly something he could accomplish by the end of the week, either.

They honestly baffled the hell out of Spike because this was not how Slayers operated. Slayers went out alone. They normally didn't even have their Watcher anywhere close by enough to act as backup, nevermind having their Watcher and three other teens patrolling with them.

Despite his confusion, Spike was actually looking forward to the challenge of taking that lot on. If he succeeded with this bunch, his reputation would be made forever. Forget St. Vigeous. A couple centuries from now, vampires would be praying to St. Spike. Only Spike planned to still be alive.

It was the sort of future that Spike could get behind. He'd finally be forever out from under Angelus' shadow. But first thing first. If he was going to be here a while, to wage war against the Slayer, he needed to take control of what was left of the Aurelius Clan vampires. And that meant killing the Anointed One. Not that that was going to be particularly difficult.

Spike's biggest challenge would actually be dealing with Angel. He was going to have to let the wanker find him, preferably after he'd dealt with the Anointed One, and beat Angel into the ground in order to cement his position at the top of the Aurelius pecking order, despite Angel being older, his official grandsire and unofficial sire to boot.

Dru, thank goodness, seemed to have calmed down somewhat since their arrival on the Hellmouth. She was still weak and sick, but she wasn't raving and flailing anymore, and therefore wasn't wasting energy she needed to get better.

Knowing that the Anointed One's court would be in the warehouse the wanker had chosen for his lair, since it was after dawn, Spike slipped into the underground tunnels and headed for the other vampire's lair. Best to do this with as much of an audience as possible.

It was early enough that none of the minions had gone to sleep for the day yet when Spike pulled himself out of the tunnels. He shook his head at their pathetic security, since no one had even been posted to watch the tunnel entrance. The Anointed One was practically begging to get dusted, really. Pathetic.

Spike, much to his disgust, was able to make his way to the rafters unseen. He'd considered his options for making his entrance, and had decided that, despite it being a repeat of his first entrance here, dropping down on them from above was the more impressive way to go. And the bigger the impression he made, the better.

There were roughly two dozen vampires milling about in the warehouse, several of them still damp with dirt they were so newly turned. Spike shook his head in disgust before he dropped down, landing neatly on his feet despite the twenty-foot drop.

"Well now, we meet again." Spike taunted. "Y'really need to do better with your security mate. I walked in here bold as brass and none of this lot even knew I was here."

He waved a contemptuous hand at the gathered minions, but otherwise completely ignored them. All his attention was on the Anointed One. Which was just as well, as Spike saw the flicker of eye movement from the little wanker, and was able to turn slightly, grab the minion trying to bull-rush him from behind, and literally rip its head off, scattering dust everywhere.

"Now, that wasn't nice. Making minions jump a Master Vampire." Spike scolded, prowling closer to the Anointed One.

Either the Anointed One was arrogant beyond belief or had something up his sleeve, because the little wanker let Spike prowl right up to him. The Anointed One just sort of stared at Spike, like that was supposed to intimidate Spike or force him to behave or ... well, Spike wasn't sure what the idiot thought that look would do, really.

"You will ... " The Anointed One started to say, finally.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't going to get to finish whatever he planned on saying, because Spike, annoyed and disgusted, grabbed the little wanker by the throat and hoisted him out of his chair.

"Time for new leadership, mate." He sneered, and then, with the same contemptuous ease he'd used on the minion a moment or two ago, ripped the Anointed One's head off, letting the resultant dust scatter on the ground.

As expected, a few of the minions did not take their leaders' death all that well. Three of them jumped at Spike more or less at the same time, but they weren't used to working together and got in each other's way far more than they helped each other deal with Spike. Not that a triad of minions had a prayer against him. Spike had all three dusted within thirty seconds, barely having to move at all in order to get the job done, and had only taken one rather ineffectual punch in the process. He stared at the remaining minions.

"Anyone else wanna object to the change in leadership around here?" He asked. None of the remaining minions moved. "Thought not. Now, let's move. Ain't staying in this place. Through the tunnel with the lot of you."

He sincerely doubted that the vast majority of the minions would still be in existence in two day's time. They mostly seemed to be useless deadweight, which Spike refused to tolerate. Odds were good he'd end up dusting most of these idiots out of sheer frustration, and then have to turn a few folks that had some worth as minions.

Still, Step One of his plan had gone off without a hitch. Step Two, confronting and beating Angel, that was going to be trickier. But Spike had every confidence he could beat Angel into submission. He was actually looking forward to it. The wanker deserved it, after all.

Chapter Text

Spike and Dru Part 3

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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October 3

Spike spent the better part of the daylight hours interrogating the handful of minions from the Anointed One's pack. And then dusting all but two of them as useless wankers of the first order. One of the two to survive was the tech geek minion, who had surpassed Spike's expectations by surviving tailing the Slayer and her crew several nights running. Lucas was quite the prize. So much so that Spike was considering working on elevating him to Childe status. Lucas wasn't the minion's real name, of course. Spike had christened him with a name suitable for the task he was undertaking.

The other survivor was a quiet, solid bloke who'd said all of about three words the entire day, but had wordlessly set about clearing out the warehouse and setting it up as a proper lair. He'd also kept an eye on Drusilla, who seemed to be improving a bit, all without having to be told or watched to make sure he didn't screw up. Spike could appreciate that sort of competence. Not enough to bother remembering or giving the minion a name, but enough to spare his unlife.

The house cleaning had served as a good warmup to the night's planned events. It was time to deal with Angel. The longer Spike put it off, the more suspect he would be, he knew. He had to establish himself as the top of the hierarchy quickly.

Spike was looking forward to this. It was, really, long past time that someone challenged Angel's place in the hierarchy. The only reason no one had was because no one had known where he was at for much of the last century, and the only one who was lower on in the heirarchy and capable of actually challenging Angel was Spike. Drusilla, as his Childe, technically could challenge Angel's position, but given her insanity, any attempt at a challenge would be laughed off, and in the unlikely event she actually carried out the attack, swatted aside fairly easily.

Spike knew he was young for it. Very young. Most Master Vampires didn't generally challenge Masters of established courts until they were at least Angel's current age, if not older. It generally took that long for a vampire to attain the recognition outside of court hierarchies or to attain the rank inside the court necessary to make their challenge legitimate, nevermind the fighting skills necessary to challenge the average Master with a court. Of course, most clans hadn't been gutted of competent members, or been run by a complete nutter like the Aurelius clan had suffered. It made the challenge that bit easier, because Spike would essentially be starting from scratch.

But it also made it a touch harder, because Spike needed a larger audience for the challenge than the two Aurelius minions remaining from the Anointed One's court in order to spread the word that the Aurelius court was under new, competent leadership. Which meant he'd have to arrange to 'meet' Angel somewhere that vampires hung out, rather than fighting Angel somewhere that was less public.

Had Spike mentioned yet that he was really looking forward to this?

BTVSBTVSBTVS

Having learned at least the basics of the Slayer's routine, Spike headed out before the sun had fully, properly set, ducking from shadow to shadow to avoid the last, dying patches of sun. He wanted to be in position before the Slayer started hunting. If Angel followed the pattern of the last few nights, he'd split off from the Slayer's group early on to go looking for Spike.

After due consideration, Spike had decided to stage the challenge at Willy's. The place was always full of demons of every description, not just vampires, which would make it ridiculously easy for the word to spread through the entire demon community. Not only that, but Willy's was the place to go in town to find out information, and Angel had to know that, which meant it would be one of his first stops. Spike made sure to top up on blood before he arrived, knowing full well this was going to be a long, bloody fight. Angel wasn't going to relinquish his position easily.

Willy, being no one's fool, smelled trouble the minute Spike swaggered into the bar, swatting the beads over the door aside with a disgusted grimace. So did the dozen or so demons and vampires in the place. Spike smirked. He did love being acknowledged as the most dangerous bloke in the room.

It didn't take Angel long to show up, maybe fifteen minutes after the sun was fully down. He vamped out the second he spotted Spike, who was by then sprawled artfully on a stool at the bar, his back to the door in a calculated display of complete unconcern.

"Spike, what the hell are you doing here?" Angel snapped.

Spike completely ignored him, fighting down a deeply amused smirk at how pissed off that would make Angel. The wanker never had liked getting ignored. Sure enough, Angel decided that one semi-polite question was his limit, and stormed over to grab Spike.

Except Spike knew better than to let Angel get that close in. Angel, even if they'd both been human, had an advantage in reach and strength. Advantages he was fully aware of and took ruthless advantage of. But what Spike lacked in sheer brute strength, he more than made up in speed, agility and cunning. And right now, that basic physical advantage was about all that Angel had on Spike, as Angel had lost any advantage that his vampiric age would otherwise have conferred on him due to not drinking human blood for the last century.

So Spike flipped neatly over Angel's head before the bastard could get in grabbing range, and wasn't quite able to keep himself from literally kicking Angel's ass, just to further aggravate the big lug. He deliberately kept the kick light enough that Angel only wobbled slightly at the unexpected (and admittedly somewhat childish) attack.

Willy squalled something about not starting a fight in the bar that both Spike and Angel completely ignored. Meanwhile, most of the demons quickly got out of the way, aware that things might well get interesting shortly and not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"Sorry, mate, but I don't answer to you anymore. Haven't in a long time." Spike said. "Y'ain't been my sire since you fucked off an' left me to keep Dru from walkin' into the sun." Not quite completely truthful, as Spike couldn't help still thinking of Angelus as his sire because the bastard had taught Spike how to be a vampire, but Spike had been forced to grow up without that guidance very early on. After all, it wasn't like that bitch Darla had stuck around after Angel got cursed, now was it?

"'m thinkin' it's well past time y'got replaced. An' seein' as how I dusted that pitiful wanker the Anointed One, I'm thinkin' I'm the one to do it. 'bout damn time the Aurelius name became something worth rememberin'." Spike said.

Angel laughed uproariously. "And you think you can ... what? You're nothing but an impetuous child."

It was Spike's turn to laugh. "I was, a few decades back." He admitted. "But your information's a bit out of date these days, mate."

Angel scoffed. "I don't think so. You'll never change, Spike."

That just pissed Spike off. "Had to, didn't I? Didn't have much of a choice. You fucked off, and Darla followed not much later. Was just Dru'n me."

"And I've heard all about your exploits." Angel scoffed.

Spike laughed outright. "Yeah, mate. I'm sure you have."

Thing was, there had definitely been exploits. Many of which, from an uninformed outsider's point of view, probably did look like they'd been half-assed planned and executed by an impatient Childe. But Spike had been dealing with Dru, the queen of short attention spans and inability to follow a plan. It was a testament to Spike's abilities that he and Dru had survived this long, never mind that they'd managed to carry out some successful plans amidst the spectacular failures. Not that Spike was going to explain that to Angel. Wasn't worth the waste of time, effort, and air. Especially now.

"The Master is dead." Spike said. "And his ashes scattered to the four winds, never to be resurrected. The Anointed One, the Master's named successor, is also dead, his ashes scattered to the four winds, never to be resurrected. Darla, Childe of the Master, is also dead, her ashes scattered to the four winds, never to be resurrected."

By that point, Angel knew exactly what Spike was planning to do. There was, after all, a traditional ritual for this sort of thing. Angel sort of smirked at Spike, almost tolerantly amused at Spike's presumption.

"Angelus, Childe of Darla, Childe of the Master, you are unfit to lead the Aurelius Clan. Drusilla, Childe of Angelus is also unfit, and unable to challenge." Spike went on. "I, Spike, Childe of Drusilla, hereby challenge you for leadership of the Aurelius Clan."

Angel let out a bark of a laugh. "You really think you can defeat me?"

Spike snorted. "You haven't had human blood in, what, fifty years at this point?" He pointed out. "And hadn't had it for nearly fifty years before that? You may have a hundred years on me, mate, but you might as well be human for all the good it'll do you." He didn't bother pointing out that he had two Slayers to his name, while Angel had none. There was really no point in bragging about that, at least not right now. Later, definitely. Now, not so much.

Angel did not look convinced. But then, Spike hadn't expected him to. Spike waited patiently, willing to let Angel make the first move. Angel didn't waste much time making it, rushing Spike with the clear intention of cornering Spike somewhere where Angel's greater strength and reach could be used to devastating advantage without Spike being able to escape.

But Spike wasn't anywhere near that stupid, and didn't let himself get cornered, ducking low under Angel's arms in an almost acrobatic tumble, one clawed hand reaching out to try and carve up one of Angel's legs as he rolled past. Angel managed to dance out of the way of the strike barely in time, and kicked at Spike while Spike was still in motion.

Spike bounced to his feet and started a series of lightning-fast feints, darting into Angel's range and back out again. He made no attempt to hit Angel at all. His entire intent was to frustrate Angel into making a crucial error that Spike could then take full advantage of.

And eventually, Angel did make that mistake. Irritated beyond the telling of it at his inability to land a hit on Spike, Angel finally lost control of his temper and started flailing around (rather uselessly). In the process, he turned his back on Spike for just a heartbeat.

Spike struck like a snake, landing a brutal blow on Angel's temporarily unprotected back. Angel roared and whirled around, just managing to connect with Spike's already retreating form in the process. Unfortunately, the damage had been done, and Angel was now bleeding sluggishly from four long gashes down his back, courtesy of Spike's claws. For his part, Spike was now sporting a rather colorful bruise.

BTVSBTVSBTVS

The Scoobies, meanwhile, were pretty much on the far side of town from Willy's Bar, prowling two cemeteries that were close together, among other places on that end of town. Aware now of the danger Spike presented, Jon was keeping careful watch for that easily-visible blonde hair.

Between that, and the fact they were in a relatively quiet area, Jon finally picked up on the fact they were being followed, though he couldn't immediately spot their stalker. Who (or what) ever it was, they knew to keep out of sight.

"Guys, we're being followed." Jon warned the others.

"Oh, great. Any idea who or what by?" Buffy wanted to know, eyeing their surroundings.

"Pretty sure it's a vampire. At least, I'm not hearing a heartbeat of any kind. Though somehow, I doubt vampires are the only ones who don't have a heartbeat as we know it." Jon pointed out. "Can't really tell where they're at, because they're doing their damndest to be totally silent, which makes pinpointing where they're at more than a little difficult."

Xander reached over and put his hand on Jon's arm. "Try now. See if you can pinpoint them if you're leaning on me." Senses-wise, Xander meant.

Jon cocked an eyebrow, but obeyed, reaching out with his hearing to try to pinpoint the position of their stalker. Fortunately for Lucas, the fight between Angel and Spike got a bit loud at that point, and Jon swung around, eyes snapping open, as he heard Angel's voice.

"Awww, shit. Forget the stalker. I think Angel found Spike. And they're fighting, from the sounds of it." Jon practically whined.

Buffy immediately turned, ready to go to Angel's assistance. "Where are they?"

"Somewhere mid-town. Willy's, I think. Or at least nearby. I can hear him in close proximity, whining about damage to his bar."

"Let's go." Buffy took off at a trot.

After a second, and a shared look between them, Jon and Xander followed, Xander tucking Willow's arm under his to ensure she stayed close.

By the time they arrived, the fight had spilled out of Willy's into the street, and gotten a lot more vicious. Both Spike and Angel were bleeding now, though that was only detectable by the sprays of blood that scattered all over the place.

The fight had escalated to the point that even to Buffy and Jon's enhanced eyes, it was nothing but a largely indistinguishable blur as the two vampires fought for dominance. Spike was partially trackable, thanks to his blonde hair, but he was moving so fast that Buffy muttered something under her breath about the Tasmanian Devil, making Xander snort in amusement.

The Scoobies hesitated to do anything. It was nearly impossible to tell which vampire was where at any given moment, making shooting at them impractical in the extreme, and with the speed the two were moving at, not even Buffy was feeling tempted to jump in with a physical attack.

"Right. Nothing we can do about this. He's either going to win or lose on his own." Jon said. He wasn't overly fussed about Angel's fate. "We better get back to patrol. Something's bound to try to take advantage of this."

Buffy watched the fighting pair for a long moment, visibly reluctant to walk away. After a few moments, though, she sighed. "You're probably right, Jon. We better get a move on." She still lagged behind the others, though, glancing over her shoulder at Angel and Spike.

"If Spike survives that, we're upping our training regimen." Jon proclaimed.

"Not going to get an argument out of me." Buffy agreed. "I mean, I was taking Giles and Angel seriously when they said Spike was a threat, but it's one thing to hear about it."

"And something else entirely to see it in action." Xander said with a nod.

"They were just a blur." Willow said. "I couldn't really even tell what was going on."

"Me either." Xander said.

"I wasn't seeing much more than you two were." Jon said. "Though I think I could tell Spike from Angel. That's about as far as I got with it, though."

Buffy nodded her agreement, and they all headed back to their assigned patrol route. Jon, however, kept an ear out for the conclusion of the fight.

BTVSBTVSBTVS

Angel had been aware of the Scoobies' approach, and had increased his attempts to kill Spike, seeking to keep Spike from trying to attack the group. Unbeknownst to him, the attempt was entirely unnecessary, as Spike was concentrating fully on Angel, and had spared only enough attention for the Slayer's arrival to ensure he didn't get staked in the back.

The fight continued for a good ten minutes after the Scoobies retreated, with both Spike and Angel trading vicious blows. By then, they'd attracted quite an audience, as word had spread about the fight and the reason for it. The street was now ringed by various vampires and demons, all watching the fight and waiting to see the outcome.

And then, with a final flurry of vicious punches and slashes, Spike somehow managed to bring Angel down, the both of them crashing to the pavement, Angel facedown with one of Spike's clawed hands wrapped around his throat and the other clenched against his back over his spine, seconds from tearing through and breaking Angel's spine. Spike's knees were buried in the small of Angel's back, putting additional stress on his lower spine. One wrong move, and Angel would be dust twice over.

"Do you yield?" Spike demanded.

It would be possible for Angel to live, if he yielded. After all, not every Master vampire desired to run a court. So long as Angel acknowledged Spike as the winner and new Master, his unlife could be spared. Unfortunately, Spike didn't have a clue as to whether or not Angel would yield.

For one long moment, it looked as if Angel would fight him, and Spike would be forced to dust the wanker. But then Spike felt Angel's body relax.

"I yield."

Spike didn't doubt that Angel had some sort of plan in mind to try to undermine Spike or usurp Spike's newly acquired position. He leaned down and whispered to Angel.

"Don't get any bright ideas, mate. I got no problem with dusting you at a moment's notice." Then, more loudly. "Accepted." Then he glanced up and looked at the surrounding watchers. "Every vampire in town, Aurelius sired or not, has twenty-four hours to swear their allegiance to me or get the hell out of town. Anyone who stays and refuses to swear allegiance will be dust." And there was no guarantee that the ones that swore allegiance would survive, either, but Spike wasn't going to say that. "Court's set up in the warehouse down by the docks."

He got to his feet, dragging Angel with him. "That includes you, Angel." He pointed out, making sure Angel understood that his yielding wasn't going to be enough. "And if I catch you hanging out with the Slayer after, you're dust." Spike wasn't about to tolerate a spy in his Court. At least, not one that was going to be tattling to the Slayer.

Spike gave Angel a completely unnecessary shove to get him moving, and then took off himself to go clean up. He was a mass of bruises and cuts, but fortunately the damage wasn't all that extensive, and would be healed by this time tomorrow.

Angel, of course, wasn't quite as lucky, having collected a number of nasty gashes and at least one broken bone, alongside having suffered defeat at Spike's hands, as well as being more or less one giant bruise.

Chapter Text

Spike and Dru Part 4

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Keep an eye on the dates, as this one goes over things that happened Scooby-side while Spike was so busy.

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October 2 Sunnydale

Jim grimaced as he drove the truck past the (completely imaginary) line around Sunnydale that represented the Hellmouth's sphere of influence. He was never going to be able to get used to the foul emanations that came from that thing.

Beside him, Blair reached over to pat his leg, evidently picking up on Jim's increased tension. "Just crossed the border, Jim?"

"Yeah. I don't get how Jon can stand that all the time. It drives me nuts."

"His territory versus yours, man. Plus, he's more used to weird than we are." Blair pointed out. "This place probably makes him feel right at home."

"I'm just glad Simon let us take today and tomorrow off." Jim said. "I don't think Xander's had much parental involvement up to now." And while it was more than a bit weird for Jim to find himself crossing two states in order to go to a Parent Teacher night, he realized he didn't want to miss it. Probably legacy of his own father's complete disinterest and disapproval. He damn well wanted to make sure he was nothing like his father.

"So am I. I'm looking forward to exploring the town more." Blair said.

Which got him a death glare from Jim. "Not at night, you're not. You want to find out more about demons, read the books. I don't want you anywhere near a real live one. Not even that Angel asshole."

Blair actually laughed. "I already knew that, Jim. But there won't be any harm in exploring during the daytime."

"Only if I'm with you." Jim demanded.

"Of course, Jim." Blair said, with the sort of tone that said he was highly amused, and humoring Jim more than a little. He wasn't, after all, stupid. Wandering around Sunnydale alone, even during the day, was asking for trouble. He even gave Jim's leg an extra pat.

Jim gave him the stink-eye for a moment before sighing. "I'm being redundant again, aren't I?"

"Just a bit, but it's nice to know you're thinking of these things." That Jim cared, Blair didn't say. Blair'd had a lot of friends over the years, but only a very small number of them had been reliable and truly invested in their friendship with him.

It didn't take them long to arrive at Joyce's house. Willow's parents were gone, again, so she'd offered to let Jim and Blair stay there, rather than try to stay at a hotel where Jim would get absolutely no rest whatever. They'd be heading there later in the day, after they'd said their hello's to Joyce, since Xander and company were already in school at this hour.

Joyce grinned when she opened the door. "Come in, both of you. Did you have a nice flight down?" She asked.

"Yeah. Jim only ground his teeth for five whole minutes this time, compared to the entire flight." Blair said. "And the drive from the airport was nice too."

"That's good to hear. Xander's been looking forward to seeing you both since this came up." Joyce said. "I must say, he's been happier these last few weeks than he's been since I first met him. You two have been good for him."

"That's good to hear." Jim said. "Jessica giving you any grief?"

"Other than in the respect that we haven't heard from her, or Tony, no." Joyce said. "It's like they've both decided to forget Xander ever existed. Quite frankly, I think that's for the better. It might hurt him in the short term, but it'll mean less damage in the long term."

"How've things been otherwise? Any trouble from this Spike vampire?" Jim wanted to know.

Joyce shook her head. "They saw him the once and that's been it. Whatever it is he's up to, it either doesn't involve the kids, which is very unlikely, or he's playing a waiting game."

Jim didn't much like the sound of that. Because enemies that were content to wait and watch were always the most dangerous ones. They were the ones that weren't afraid to adapt their plans to what they discovered while they observed their opponents.

"Well, we'll be here all weekend, so if this Spike character decides to try to spring a trap, the kids will have extra backup." Jim said.

"I just want to know why Spike is so different from the average vampire." Blair said.

Joyce shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, though I'll admit to wanting an answer to that question myself. Even Giles had no idea why Spike was so unusual."

The three adults spent the rest of the day talking and catching up on all the things Xander hadn't thought to fill Jim in on until the Scoobies (including Giles) arrived at the house after school was done.

Xander grinned when he spotted Jim. "Hey Jim!" He said, then dithered for a moment, not quite sure whether to shake Jim's hand or what. From his spot behind Xander, Jon nodded a greeting to Jim.

"Hi, Mr. Ellison." Willow and Buffy said, more or less at the same time.

Jim caught Xander's confusion, and closed the distance between them. "Xander." He said, then ruffled Xander's hair, which got him an indignant squawk followed by a pleased-looking grin. "So what's the plan for tonight?" He wanted to know.

Buffy spoke up. "Well, thanks to mom, all the decorations are ready, and won't take all that long to put up. And she made Snyder pony up for snacks for the parents. He was originally going to make me foot the bill." Buffy made an outraged face.

Jim shook his head. "I still can't believe he threatened to expel you for not decorating up to his standards." He said. "That takes some serious balls."

"Tell me about it. Though mom set him straight real quick." Buffy said. All of the teens grinned toothily.

"We got to listen in on her giving him what-for." Jon said.

Willow grinned shyly over at Joyce. "It was really fun to listen to." She said.

They had just enough time for dinner before everyone trooped over to the school to decorate.

Blair not-so-subtly divided everyone into pairs and encouraged them to split up throughout the school to set things up. He paired himself with Jon, and nudged Jim into pairing with Xander so father and son could have a bit of time together in semi-private. He also nudged Buffy and Joyce into pairing up, and Giles and Willow.

Blair, thanks to the various phone calls from Sunnydale, as well as some things Willow had said during the summer, was aware that Willow's parents were largely absent. And that Willow needed an adult to look up to for guidance. Given that she was quiet, almost shy actually, and studious, he'd figured that Giles might be a good choice for adult support, and had decided to enact his plan to get the two of them working together as soon as possible. This trip provided an invaluable opportunity to do just that.

For his part, Xander reveled in the novelty of having a parent at parent teacher night. Even Willow's parents had managed to make it to these things every now and again, but Jessica and Tony never had. Xander was fairly sure he'd never quite get used to adults that gave a damn whether he lived or died, but he was equally sure he'd thoroughly enjoy it all the same.

It helped that Xander actually had things to brag about. He'd been making more of an effort in school this year so far, mostly in light of the knowledge he was in several advanced classes, and therefore not quite as dumb as he'd always believed himself to be. He still wasn't a straight-A student, but he had only the one C. The rest of his classes were B's and two A's. Before now, he'd been a C student, with the occasional D.

Jim didn't patrol with them that night, mostly because the last thing he needed was some demon deciding that Blair was a tasty tidbit. They'd stayed at the house with Joyce until the gang came back.

October 3 Summers House

The first Jim, Blair, and Joyce knew of trouble was when the Scoobies more or less piled into the basement, wide-eyed and worried.

"Spike and Angel are fighting." Buffy said, nearly breathless, more with worry than with physical exertion. "They were moving so fast! None of us quite dared to try to interfere." She wrinkled her nose. "I didn't want to hit Angel, and there was no guarantee I wouldn't." Not at the speed those two had been moving. Buffy knew she could move faster than the average human, but the two vampires had been moving entirely too unpredictably for her to feel comfortable jumping in. "Or that Angel wouldn't accidentally hit me instead of Spike."

Jim could tell she was very much not happy with walking away. "You made the right call, Buffy. Until you and Angel are so well-practiced at fighting together you compensate for each other automatically, jumping into each others' fights is a damn stupid thing to do, especially completely unexpectedly. That's a damn good way to get badly hurt."

Privately, he dearly hoped Buffy never did get that used to fighting with Angel, because he wanted Angel nowhere near her, and knew that pretty much everyone else agreed with him. What she saw in Angel, Jim would never know.

Not too long after they'd returned to the house, Angel more or less fell in the basement door. Buffy yelped and hurried over to help him only for him to growl at her. Normally her being the Slayer wasn't a problem, but with him this weakened and in pain, his instincts were taking over a bit (even if his demon wasn't and couldn't) and having a Slayer come at him when he was in this condition was a Bad Thing.

Buffy scowled, but backed off, and Xander, rolling his eyes at the necessity of it (and ignoring Jon's cut-off noise of displeasure) walked over to drag Angel the rest of the way into the basement.

"From your appearance, I presume you lost the fight?" Giles asked.

Angel leaned against the wall and glowered at Giles. "Yes." He admitted, his tone bitter. "But there's a bigger problem."

"Bigger than your kid handing you your ass?" Xander couldn't quite help but say, unable to resist the temptation to pour salt on the wound.

That got him a glare. "Yes. That wasn't a normal fight. Spike decided to try to take control of what's left of the Aurelius Clan of vampires. The Master's old crew, most of whom are here. Which means he effectively has control of pretty much any vampire sired in Sunnydale."

"Ok, that is definitely of the bad." Willow said. "If he can boss around all the vampires ... "

"You're probably going to end up facing what amounts to a siege before too long. You've got a small grace period, because he needs to consolidate his control, but that won't last long. A week at most. He's already demanded that every vampire in the city swear fealty to him, get out of town or get dusted. And we have until tomorrow night to do it. Including me." Angel fairly growled out the news.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "That ... is not good news." She said.

"Actually ... " Jim said. "Actually, it might be. Because most of the vampires in town are going to be in one spot tomorrow night. Angel, you have any idea where Spike told them to go?"

"Warehouse down by the docks." Angel said.

Buffy quickly caught on to where Jim was going with that question. "We ambush them. Light the place on fire, something like that. We'd kill most of the city's population of vamps in one go." She said, then grinned at Jim. "Have I told you lately that I really like you?" She asked.

Jim laughed. "I may have heard something to that effect." He said.

"I'll get some maps. We have some planning to do." Giles said, then hurried to one of the bookshelves, where a few different maps of Sunnydale rested. He pulled one out and spread it out. "All right, the docks are here, and the warehouses here. There are only three empty or abandoned ones down there right now, from Buffy's last report of the area a few days ago."

"You have any information on the warehouses? I might be able to figure out which one Spike'd pick." Angel said, as he picked himself up off the floor.

Xander and Willow, as the long-time Sunnydale residents, filled the others in on the various warehouses. Angel thought it over for a few moments, then pointed to one. "This one is the best bet. Fewer windows, an upstairs office area, where he'd be able to set up private living space for himself and Drusilla, if she's with him still. Tunnel access to allow demons to come and go at will, and the other warehouses are far enough away to give a good line of sight and make an enemy's approach difficult."

"Ok, as tempting as shooting the place up with flaming arrows sounds, I don't think that's going to work." Jon said. "Sadly. And we're not going to be able to utilize explosives, even if we had any. That said, I vote for flamethrowers. We can probably knock one or two together during the day tomorrow. They're not all that difficult to manage if you know what you're doing."

"And fighting hand to hand with the place up to the gills with vampires would be the next best thing to suicide." Buffy agreed. "So burning the place to the ground is the best idea. That said, I want to try to block off their underground escape route. Where's the tunnel entrance at?"

It didn't take them long to pinpoint it. "Ok, so we send one group through the wall here." Jim said, touching the spot. "Which will require some heavy hitting power to get through the metal. So Buffy and/or Angel. It also would have the side benefit of being more unpredictable. Spike will probably expect the Slayer, if you showed up at all, to come in the front door."

Buffy nodded. "So coming at him from an unexpected angle will throw him off, at least temporarily."

"He'll expect me to wait until the last possible moment to show up." Angel said. "So Buffy and I both can hit that side." After which he planned to get the hell out of Dodge, because he was just as flammable as any other vampire, and hanging about when there were going to be flamethrowers in play was stupid as hell.

"Right, so ... Jim and I will hit the army surplus store first thing in the morning, and get to work on the throwers." Jon said. "Too bad we didn't have more warning, or I could have called Jack and gotten military grade ones." Unfortunately, such things hadn't been used in years, and getting his hands on some of them would have taken more than a day, even for Jack O'Neill.

"Who do we send through the front door, since Buffy and Angel are coming in the side?" Xander wanted to know.

"Jim." Was Jon's immediate vote. "He's the most physically imposing of us. With Blair alongside. Giles and Willow can take one of the other sides, and Xander and I the fourth."

"I'll go in with Buffy." Joyce said, having spotted the fact that Angel would be booking it once Buffy was in, even if the others hadn't quite twigged to it yet.

"MOM!" Buffy squawked.

Joyce gave Buffy a look. "You're going to need someone to help watch your back ... and do you really expect Angel to stick around when there's going to be fire everywhere?"

Buffy blinked, then gave her mother a slightly sheepish look. "Ummm ... I forgot about that part?" She admitted. "But I still don't want you in danger like that, mom."

"Don't you worry about me, young lady. I can take care of myself." Joyce scolded gently. "I'll not leave you undefended."

"She has a point, Buffy." Xander pointed out. "How many times have we commented on how fierce she was on patrol that time?"

Buffy still didn't like it, but realized she was fighting a losing battle on this one, and gave in somewhat gracelessly. "Oh, all right."

Chapter Text

Spike and Dru Part 5

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

October 4

Spike was anything but an idiot.

Thus far, his plan was working beautifully. He'd thrashed Angel and gained control of the Aurelius Clan. He had also sent Angel, tail tucked firmly between his legs, right back to the Slayer. Who would, upon hearing there was going to be a vampire get-together, feel honor-bound to do something.

On the night of St. Vigeous.

She and her band of helpers were going to be attacking a lair up to its eyeballs with vampires hopped up on, if not *real* extra power, then the perception that they were endowed with additional power. Spike had absolutely no idea whether or not the Slayer would triumph. Nor did he care.

The Slayer was going to be doing half Spike's job for him, by dusting the minions too fucking stupid to put two and two together and come up with four. Spike, in the meantime, would get a very, very good look at how the group fought in such a situation. If the minions managed to kill or seriously injure the Slayer's backup crew, Spike would be free and clear to take the Slayer on without having to worry about getting staked in the back. In short, Spike literally couldn't lose.

He knew Angel well enough to know that Angel would presume he knew Spike well enough to predict which warehouse Spike had set himself up in. Fortunately, Angel was wrong. Spike had very much liked that particular warehouse, but had gone with his second choice.

The only bad news was that Spike had spent most of the daylight hours wrangling a frantic, terrified Dru, who was babbling nonstop about fire and burning. The implications made Spike even happier he'd not be in the warehouse when things went down.

He'd also spent part of the daylight hours dealing with the smarter minions in Sunnydale. The ones who had used the tunnel system to check out the warehouse and found the instructions Spike had left just inside the tunnel. He'd ended up with ten fairly reliable, if limited, minions in addition to Lucas and the quiet minion from the Anointed One's court by dusk.

They all watched as the dumber minions began to converge on the warehouse as the sun went down. There was an additional five who arrived via the tunnel, saw the sign, and diverted to Spike's actual location. The rest all came via the surface and thus didn't see Spike's note. Spike shook his head in amused dismay, knowing the minions would stay in the warehouse, fully expecting Spike to make some sort of grand entrance as befit a Master of a court. Little did they realize he already HAD his court.

+_+_+_+_+_+_

Building flamethrowers was surprisingly simple, if you knew what the hell you were doing. A couple tanks, some hoses, a few other odds and ends, and you were in business. The best part was that the individual components were easy to come by. You didn't even need any special permits.

Jon and Jim spent the morning putting the tanks together, since they were the only ones who knew what the hell they were doing. The two Sentinels chatted amiably as they worked, mostly about their respective Guides.

Giles and Angel spent the day watching the warehouse. Giles watched from various spots on the surface, while Angel covered the tunnel. Unfortunately, because Angel didn't want to be spotted by the various minions, he didn't pick a spot close enough to the warehouse's tunnel entrance to spot Spike's little note, or see the various minions backtracking to the nearest junction to head for the right warehouse.

They all gathered together for dinner several hours before their planned raid on the warehouse. Well, all of them except for Angel. For one, he didn't eat. Secondly, neither he nor Jim nor Jon were thrilled about him trying to sit at a table with two Sentinels.

At first the dinner was fairly quiet, as everyone was thinking about what they'd be doing in a couple hours' time, but after about fifteen minutes, the quiet dissolved as the teenagers lost the ability to sit in broody silence and started talking.

After dinner, they all trooped down to the basement to warm up, and then Jim and Jon took everyone outside, and to the beach for a demonstration on how to use the flamethrowers. At least out here, the chances of burning anything down were nil.

"Right." Jim said. "First rule: do not ever point the nozzle at anything you *don't* want to burn. Ever. Rule two: always double and triple check what you're aiming at and what's between you and your target. Again, if what's between you and them is something you don't want to burn, see rule one." He patted one of the flamethrowers. "Rule three: make sure you know where everyone on the team is so you don't accidentally trap them behind a wall of flame. For this particular exercise, that's basically going to mean staying *put* and not going around to the side where Buffy, Angel, and Joyce are, as Buffy and Joyce are going to be going into the warehouse to cut the vampires' avenue of retreat off and we don't want to barbecue Angel."

"Rule four." Jim continued. "Those of us who won't be using the flamethrowers need to stay the hell out of the flame zone. Stay behind the person with the flamethrower. They'll manage to hit anything coming at them from the front, you don't need to worry about that, just what might be coming up from behind. Rule five: when you're done flaming, double and triple check that everything is turned off before you take the rig off and/or let someone else approach you. Rule six: don't take the rigs off close to the warehouse once it's lit up. We do *not* need a firebomb." Jim said.

It was unlikely that anyone would be close enough to the warehouse for the tanks to overheat and join the furor, but Jim was taking no chances whatsoever, especially with a bunch of essentially untrained civilians.

The rules laid out, Jim ran everyone through using the flamethrowers. While it had been decided that Joyce, Willow, Blair and Xander, as the 'lesser' fighters, would be wielding the flamethrowers this time, it was entirely conceivable that the others would need to use the flamethrowers at some point in the future, so Jim was just giving everyone a primer right off the bat. Once everyone had gotten comfortable with the things, they split into their teams (still sans Angel, as it wasn't yet dusk), and did a few practice runs as teams.

Finally, it was dusk, and the group began making their cautious way towards the warehouse, trying to stay in the shadows and out of sight, so that any vampires heading that way didn't see them and raise the alarm. When they got close enough, Angel appeared from a nearby tunnel entrance.

"There's roughly forty vampires in the warehouse." Angel told them. "Maybe a few more ... there were a couple times when largeish groups came through and it was hard to tell exactly how many were in the group."

"Jesus. Forty vampires." Xander said, making a face. "And the worst part is, that's probably not even half the town's population of them."

Angel nodded. "You'd be right. I'm sure a number of them headed for the hills, but there's always going to be a section of them that think they don't have to do as Spike says and try to challenge his authority. He's going to be busy cleaning them out over the next weeks."

"Sounds like he'll be doing part of my job for me." Buffy said. "Almost makes me approve of the guy. Almost."

That got an amused snort from the others.

From there, they split up and began the tedious process of sneaking up on the warehouse without being seen. This was, given the terrain, a bit harder than even Jon was used to. There really wasn't much of anything to hide behind other than the other warehouses in the area, and a great deal of flat, open space between the warehouses.

Finally, everyone was in position. Angel found a slight gap in a seam of the metal siding of the warehouse ... just enough to get a fingertip grip on ... and pulled it back enough for two people to be able to grip as silently as he could. Buffy got right in next to him, and then she looked at Angel and Joyce, who both nodded.

On a silent count of three, Angel and Buffy hauled back hard on the metal panel, which shrieked in protest as it was ripped and folded back out of the way.

The loud sound was the cue for the other groups. Jon and Giles both knocked in one of the few ground-level windows on their sides, which allowed Willow and Xander to shove their nozzles into the warehouse and let rip without exposing themselves to too much danger.

At the same time, Jim had an inordinate amount of fun literally kicking the front doors in. Blair immediately stepped forward and started flaming everything that was moving.

To say the sudden appearance of three flamethrowers threw the residents of the warehouse into a terrified frenzy was to vastly understate the case. There was a lot of screaming and flailing going on. There was also, however, a surprising lack of anyone heading for the tunnel, as the minions were largely too panicked to use what little brains they possessed and try to get out of there.

Still, some of them did attempt to make for the tunnel, only to come face to face with a sword-wielding Buffy. With so much chaos going on, it was fairly easy for Buffy to dust the few that came her way.

Because he had retreated well away from the fire zone, Angel didn't see a very familiar black-haired female vampire race straight for Joyce ... or the resultant very swift end of said vampiress.

+_+_+_+_+_+_

Spike had known that the Slayer and her gang would show up and try to kick ass, but even with Dru's warning ranting, he didn't expect flamethrowers. Torches or flaming arrows, yes. Flamethrowers, no. It made him that much happier that he'd decided to not be in the warehouse in question.

Unfortunately, that went to shit about a minute into the slaughter. Dru, who had gone very, very quiet in the last half hour or so, suddenly shrieked something about 'daddy' and bolted out of the warehouse. She was moving so fast that not even Spike was quick enough to stop her.

He and two of the minions raced after her, shouting for her to come back, but Dru had a head start on them and headed straight for one of the flamethrower-wielding Scoobies. Spike loved Dru more than just about anything in his unlife, but he wasn't about to become dust in a fruitless attempt to keep her from doing the same thing. He stopped when he realized he wouldn't catch up to her before she got in range of the flamethrower.

He whipped around and stormed back to the warehouse, refusing to watch Dru's last seconds, wanting to only have the memory of her as she'd been in unlife, not as a flaming, flailing, screaming victim of fire before she crumpled into dust. The various minions wisely got the hell out of his way, which let Spike stomp up to the office level of the warehouse and slam the door. Once he was alone, he sagged to the floor, eyes clamped closed and head bowed in grief.

+_+_+_+_+_+_

It didn't take long for the warehouse to begin burning in earnest. At that point, Buffy got the hell out through the hole she and Angel had made in the wall, and Joyce shut down her flamethrower.

"Clear tunnel-side!" Buffy called over the roar of the fire, keeping her voice only just above speaking level as they had two Sentinels who would not thank her for bellowing.

"Clear!" Jim bellowed over the racket a minute later, indicating he'd heard from the other two groups. Buffy and Joyce immediately got while the getting was good, heading for their planned rendezvous point a mile or so down the docks.

"Any vamps get past us?" Buffy asked, as Angel sloped up now that the fire part of the evening was done with.

"Nope. Didn't even have any run up on us from behind." Xander said.

Jim and Giles both had similar comments.

"Well, we had a couple run up on us from behind, but they rethought the idea when one of them got barbecued." Joyce said.

"Anybody see Blondie? I didn't see him in the warehouse." Buffy said. "And that hair was rather visible."

Everyone looked at each other, only to get a round of headshakes. Except from Joyce.

"I think maybe I did." Joyce said. "There was a guy with bright blonde hair heading our way when I fried the one that got in range. He was one of the ones that turned tail and ran."

"Huh. Definitely a smart bastard then, if he ditched out before we got there." Buffy groused, then sighed. "Well, I still call forty-odd dusted vamps a good night's work, and vote we head back to the house."

"Agreed. There won't be much going on tonight, not after this." Giles said. "Everything will go to ground until things calm down, and by then it'll be sunup."

Chapter Text

Machida, Part 1

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

October 6

Sunday had been almost eerily silent on the supernatural front, as if everything in Sunnydale was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen in the wake of the warehouse being burned down. Angel was still hanging around, though he was keeping his head down for the moment. He knew he didn't have very long to remain in Sunnydale, with Spike's ultimatum, but the chaos on the fourth had extended his time to remain here by a couple of days at least.

The Scoobies got a bit of a surprise that Monday in school, when it was announced their school would be taking part in an exchange program. Students from Jamaica, Russia, Egypt, and Germany (among other countries) were evidently going to be doing a tour of the United States' schools. Sunnydale was somehow the first stop. They would be arriving in a week, and Snyder wanted people to volunteer to put them up. He further announced that there was going to be a trip to the Sunnydale Museum on Friday as part of the preparations, though how that would help them prepare, none of the Scoobies could figure out.

"It could end up being the last stop for some of them." Jon said when they met up at lunch to talk about it. "They're going to be lambs to the slaughter here. They don't even have the small measure of native caution some people around here have."

"We're going to have to step up patrols until they're gone." Buffy said, agreeing completely.

Willow and Xander nodded as well.

"I'll sign up to have one of them stay with me." Willow said. "Maybe two, if I can wrangle it. If they're at my place, they'll be that bit safer, even if it will make things slightly awkward with patrolling."

Xander nodded. "Better slightly awkwardly trying to explain late evening patrols away than dead foreigners. Somehow, I don't think their folks will fall prey to Sunnydale Syndrome, and that would get very, very messy very quickly."

"No shit." Jon agreed.

While part of Jon thought that exposing Sunnydale for what it was needed to happen, it was only a very small part. The rest of him realized that, like with the Stargate Program, ignorance was bliss where the majority of the population was concerned. It'd be a tossup as to whether Sunnydale got nuked or fenced off as a preserve for 'endangered animals', depending on who got here first.

"And it figures the troll only gave us a week's notice." Buffy said. "They did something like this at Hemery, and it was being organized for months beforehand, that I knew of. Probably a lot longer, since I sort of heard about it secondhand. It was before I started there. But Snyder'd want as many of those kids vulnerable as possible. So, week's notice. And did you see? Some of them are supposed to be coming in on the freaking bus!"

Jon nodded. "Yeah, I noticed that. Which is why we're going to be doing a lot of heavy-duty patrolling. Maybe let it be known at Willy's that anyone that touches the exchange students will be dead before they realize their error."

"Probably not worth it." Buffy said. "It might scare a few off, but I think it'd just make them a more tempting target to the rest."

Jon wrinkled his nose. "Point." He agreed.

October 8

Patrol had mostly returned to normal by Tuesday night, the demon population having recovered from the surprise of the warehouse attack. They were all keeping a very close eye out for Spike, but he was being cagey again, keeping his head down and staying out of sight.

The cemeteries had still been fairly thick with newly risen vamps until Tuesday night, as the crop sired by the vampires who had either been dusted or fled were still rising and hanging out in the cemeteries. Tonight, though, there wasn't a newly risen vamp to be found in the cemeteries.

"Masters of Courts normally reserve the right to sire new minions and childer to themselves." Giles said when the second cemetery on their route had come up empty of vamps. "While the old Aurelius Master could not exercise that right due to his situation, it would seem that Spike is."

"Which means fewer dumb cannon-fodder vamps." Buffy said. "And probably more regular demons to fill in the gap."

"Very probably." Giles agreed.

They'd just finished swinging by Miller's Woods, depending mostly on Jon's hearing to know if something was up in there, rather than trying to walk the whole thing. Sunnydale University was their next stop, and they'd just crossed the boundary between the woods' wild, unkempt stretch and the rigidly manicured lawns of the university when Jon snapped to attention.

"Someone's screaming." He said, then, after a moment's hesitation. "And running."

"That'd be our cue then." Xander said, and they headed into the campus.

It didn't take them long to find the screamer. It was a girl that Xander and Willow recognized as being a senior in high school. Her dress was askew and she was barefoot. She was also frightened enough to have foregone looking over her shoulder in favor of running as hard and fast as she could.

She gave an additional, extra-loud shriek when she nearly tumbled straight into their group. She tried to swerve around them but lost her footing and ended up on her ass on the pavement, looking up at them with wide, frightened eyes as she tried to scramble to her feet and get away from this new apparent danger.

Xander handed his most visible weapons off to Jon and then crouched down. "Hey, whoah. It's ok. Calm down. We're not going to hurt you." He soothed.

He didn't realize it, but he was instinctively slipping into a particular tone that Blair had called 'Guide Voice'. Blair had figured out fairly quickly that when Jim was distressed in one way or another, he tended to react using that tone. Thanks to their jobs, it hadn't taken much longer before Blair realized that the tone also worked to a lesser extent on the rattled victims that he and Jim had to interact with. As far as Blair had been able to tell, there was nothing actively forcing either Sentinel or victim to calm down. That particular tone just seemed to encourage it.

It took a minute, but the girl responded. She stopped scrambling to get to her feet and her breathing slowed as the visible signs of panic slowly disappeared. Once she seemed to have gotten herself pulled back together, Xander quietly offered a hand.

"Let's get you up off the ground, huh? Can't be comfortable. What's your name?" Xander asked.

"Jessica." The girl said after a few moments, accepting the hand to get to her feet and trying to smooth her dress back down. She eyed their group warily. "What are you guys doing running around with weapons?"

"We were doing some target practice in the woods." Jon piped up, motioning to the visible line of trees. "Heard you screaming as we were headed home and decided to find out what the problem was."

"Oh." Jessica said. "Well, thanks for that."

"So what happened?" Willow asked.

"Some frat boys got pushy and freaked me out." Jessica said. "The DZK boys ... "

"The who boys?" Giles asked.

"Delta Zeta Kappa, one of the fraternities." Jessica explained.

"Ah. That explains things." Giles said.

Jon rolled his eyes. Frat boys. He'd never joined a fraternity himself, but he'd gone to college so he was well aware of the shenanigans that frat boys tended to get up to.

"Anyway, they were throwing a party, and I got invited. But I've got a test coming up next week, so I didn't want to stay long. I need to study. And when I went to leave ... " Jessica shuddered. "They really didn't seem to want to let me."

On the surface, it didn't really sound like something to run screaming about, but from the look on Jessica's face, the whole thing had been a lot worse than her description implied.

"I better get going. Nice to meet you." Jessica said, then headed off.

Willow frowned. "She's Sunnydaling." She said, referencing the habit Sunnydale's residents had of forgetting traumatic demon-related incidents almost as soon as they happened.

Buffy frowned as well. "I think you're right. And I think that means we need to investigate that fraternity. Might just have been a vamp, but still worth looking into."

"Agreed." Giles, Jon and Xander said, in stereo. That caused most everyone to start laughing in amusement. Even Giles smiled.

"We had best finish our patrol. We still have one cemetery to check before we head into the residential section." Giles said.

"I'll check the internet for anything on the fraternity and disappearances at the college tomorrow." Willow said as they headed off.

"I'll talk to Cordelia. She's popular enough to manage an invite to a college frat party. She ought to be able to get us in there without any problems." Buffy said. "It'd be a lot easier than trying to fight our way in, if it comes to that." Then she grinned. "Besides, she owes us one. Or maybe more than one, at this point. I don't exactly keep track."

"Quite true." Giles agreed. Jon, Xander, and Willow all snickered in amusement.

October 9

The next morning, the Scooby gang split up the moment they hit the school. Willow headed straight for the principal's office and the sign-up to have one of the exchange students. She didn't anticipate any real trouble with it, because since Joyce had given Snyder what-for over the Parent's Night thing, Snyder had been being a bit more circumspect. He still sneered at them and said awful things, but he seemed to realize that at least with this bunch of kids, he wasn't going to be allowed to go any further than that, no matter how much he hated them.

Buffy, on the other hand, had the more challenging task. Mostly because in order to talk to Cordelia, she had to separate the girl from her gaggle of minions. Given that it was commonly accepted that the so-called Cordettes were surgically attached to Cordelia, that wasn't going to be easy.

Thankfully, while Buffy wasn't in the 'ultra-popular' circle at Sunnydale (and didn't want to be), she *had* been back at Hemery. Hell, she'd more or less been Cordelia, before she had been Called. So she knew how to walk the walk and talk the talk ... she just chose not to, now, because it focused peoples' attention on you. These days, it was better if she wasn't the center of attention. It would make separating Cordelia from her minions that bit easier.

She stalked up to the gaggle of girls. As she'd expected, the Cordettes almost immediately began heckling her, mocking her less-than-cutting-edge fashion sense. She sneered at them.

"At least I know to wear what looks good on me. You lot look like ten-cent hookers. You need to learn to apply makeup with something a bit smaller than a trowel. You look like particularly colorful clowns! And that skirt with those shoes? What were you *thinking*?" She snarked, pointing at one of the girls. Then, with mock contrition, she continued. "Whoops, I'm sorry, I forgot. You can't think. You share one brain cell between you." Then she turned to another girl. "And that blouse? If it can be called that ... it mostly looks like lingerie ... you do realize everyone can see your nipples, right? And I don't mean little bumps in the cloth. I mean in living color. Pretty in pink, however you want to put it."

Hah, that one finally got the reaction she'd been looking for. While the blouse in question *was* sheer, it wasn't quite as bad as Buffy had implied, but no girl with any claim at all to a sense of decency would react to the thought that everyone could see her boobs. The Cordette in question promptly clamped her hands over her chest and raced for the nearest bathroom, the rest of the Cordettes in tow. Buffy grabbed Cordelia's arm before she could join them.

"What do you *want*?" Cordelia snapped.

"An in to the next Delta Zeta Kappa party." Buffy said.

Cordelia sneered. "Why would they want *you* there?" She wanted to know.

"They probably wouldn't." Buffy admitted. "But there's something funky going on in that fraternity. Things that go bump type funky."

Cordelia paled dramatically, and swallowed. "Things that go bump?" She repeated, clearly remembering the last time she'd had an encounter with such things. "Right. Invite. I can do that. They have a party every week. Swing by the Bronze tonight. A couple of them are always hanging out there. Wear something ... provocative."

"You got it." Buffy said. "And thanks."

Cordelia sneered again. "Whatever." Then she peered at Buffy before glancing in the direction her minions had gone. "They weren't dressed that badly." It was less a question and more a statement.

"Well, that blouse was kind of ... questionable." Buffy said. "But not as bad as I implied, no. Still, fastest way to get them to take a hike."

Cordelia let out an amused sound. "You're not quite the hopeless geek you seem to be, are you?"

Buffy gave Cordelia a toothy grin. "I was Queen Shark at Hemery." She admitted. "I just ... choose ... to be out of the limelight. Makes things a bit easier for me."

Cordelia shuddered at the cloaked reference to Buffy's 'job'. "Point." She agreed, then gave herself a shake. "Right, see you tonight." And she stalked off in the direction her minions had gone.

Chapter Text

Machida, Part 2

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

October 9

It had been a while since Buffy had done this. 'This' being dress and act like a Queen Shark on the prowl. After over a year as a somewhat more 'forgettable' member of the school-age masses it felt very strange trying to slip back into the old mold. Certain parts of her absolutely refused to fit. Sometimes she couldn't believe what a naive idiot she'd been before she was Called. Back then, a tragedy had been not having just the right pair of shoes to go with a killer outfit.

That sort of mentality seemed very shallow and stupid to her now that her eyes had been well and truly opened to the ugly, unfair, and outright lethal facts of life. Unfortunately, she hadn't really learned the lesson right away. She'd gone from that shallow mindset to one that declared she was 'special' and didn't need help from a couple of losers. Thank all the gods that ever existed they'd both been too stubborn to walk away, especially Xander. Buffy still went cold all over whenever she thought about what *would* have happened if it hadn't been for him.

Jim and Jon both had gotten her head screwed on straight about the whole 'special' thing over the summer. They drilled it into her head that she had unique skills but no matter how good she was, she *needed* backup. That no one could go to war alone and expect to live.

She honestly pitied any Council people that showed their faces in town. Jon had been particularly hot under the collar over their normal modus operandi. She wouldn't put it past him to kill anyone from the Council that tried to mess with her, provided she didn't get to them first. She would be only too happy to kick their asses herself. The proof of how wrong they were in their methods was plain to see. Giles had told her that Slayers killed an average of four vampires and other demons per night, excluding apocalypse situations. Last year the Scoobies had averaged ten dead vampires and demons a night. Since they'd started training to work as a team, they averaged fifteen a night. That had changed when Spike took control of the vampires in town. Their numbers had dropped since then but that was because there were markedly fewer vampires running around.

Willow had been able to uncover a massive list of girls who had been last seen at a Delta Zeta Kappa party before they'd gone missing. While they had little doubt that some of those girls had fallen prey to Sunnydale nightlife on the way home, that didn't explain all of the girls. Something very hinky was going on with that fraternity. Unfortunately they still didn't know what it was. So she and Cordelia still had to go in and take a look. Buffy was just glad that Jon was on their team. It meant they didn't even have to try to wear comms or risk the things going on the fritz at exactly the wrong time.

Not that wearing communication gear was a thought she'd had before Jim and Jon had got a hold of her. She'd had to admit that a lot of the stuff they'd had to tell her was remarkably commonsensible. It helped they'd both apparently had experience working with small groups in the military (and in Jon's case the SGC) so they both knew small-group tactics pretty damn well. Even Blair had gotten in on the act by encouraging her to read a number of books on military tactics and strategy. Not all of it was applicable but it was a good place to start and gave her ideas. It also made her even angrier at the Council because those books made it all too clear that the Council hadn't exactly been training Slayers for war. At best, they had been training Slayers to be martyrs. Buffy really couldn't imagine what being a Watcher raised-and-trained Slayer must be like.

Buffy gave her head a shake and refocused on getting ready. She'd chosen her outfit with care: a very short-skirted and form-fitting sleeveless black dress with a fairly wide black belt. She'd chosen the dress because not only did it show her figure off to advantage but the belt provided her with a place to hide a few throwing stars. Her hair was piled on top of her head and secured by what looked like two pins but were in actuality two short but sharp-tipped skewers. She was also wearing stiletto heels. Impossible to run in, but easy to get off and break the heels off for use as yet another weapon. This way she wouldn't be walking into the place unarmed. Giles, Xander, Jon, and Willow would be waiting for word from her and Cordelia. They would be carrying weapons for themselves and for her since they'd decided that storming the place armed to the teeth right off the bat wasn't the best idea.

She headed down to the kitchen and got a hug and a kiss on the top of her head from her mom before she headed out and met Cordelia at the Bronze. Cordelia looked unflatteringly surprised at Buffy's appearance when Buffy arrived. Cordelia was dressed in a spagetti-strapped, low-neckline red dress that showed her off to advantage. Unfortunately, it didn't have the look of something even marginally practical to fight in. Buffy figured that was because Cordelia hadn't had to consider functionality in a fight when buying her clothes until she'd started hanging with the Scoobies more in the aftermath of the dumpster full of body parts incident. Buffy had a year's practice at finding things that she could fight in while still looking relatively nice.

"Ok, so, first, we make sure they notice us." Cordelia said. "Easy enough, really. It's not like either of us are dogs. Wrangling an invite might be a bit trickier, but hopefully not too much so."

It was a simple enough plan. Buffy knew that Xander and Jon were already in the Bronze somewhere, to keep an eye out. Xander had said something about Jon needing the practice the Bronze would give him with his senses. Knowing what she did of Sentinels, Buffy couldn't disagree with that. The place was obnoxious enough for her and her hearing (the only sense she was sure was different) was only slightly above human normal levels.

With Cordelia's able assistance, it took them less than half an hour to garner the attention of some DZK boys. It took about another ten to secure an invite to that night's party. Buffy played the part of the slightly ditzy blonde cheerleader to the hilt the entire time. She let the guy she'd ended up dancing with lead her out of the Bronze and towards the college campus.

The DZK frat house was rocking at something like twice the decibel level of the Bronze. It was loud enough to make Buffy flinch mentally even as she smiled outwardly. From the moment they walked in the door, Buffy knew this wasn't going to end well. There was something like three times the number of girls here compared to the number of guys. Worse, the guys were very intent and insistent on serving drinks. From the way many of the girls were acting, Buffy suspected there was something other than alcohol in the drinks: something that rendered the girls pliable and amenable and suggestible. It took all her skill to accept the various drinks, arrange it so that she got rid of them without drinking (and didn't get caught), and fake an increasing level of attitude similar to the other girls.

It was definitely of the bad, but not the sort of bad that the Scoobies dealt with so far. That fact didn't stop Buffy from making a mental note to tell Willow to do what she could to ruin these idiots if this was all that was going on.

Then the boys started moving the girls to the basement, using some thin-ass excuse that the girls, hopped up on whatever had been in their drinks, didn't even realize was suspicious. That was when things got really, really interesting. Because there was a big crack in the floor of the basement, and ...

"Snake." She said in a level voice. "Really big, really ugly snake in the basement. Hunting party is a go. Watch the girls, they're drugged." She kicked off her shoes immediately and shouldered her way to the head of the group. Or, she tried to. The DZK boys, realizing she was nowhere near as drugged as she was supposed to be, immediately converged on her. She started whaling on them. From somewhere else in the crowd, Cordelia started laying into the men with more enthusiasm than skill. Buffy was relieved that she'd managed to avoid getting drugged insensible. She was going to need the help Cordelia's distraction provided until the cavalry arrived.

+_+_+_+_+_+_

Jon was grateful to be out of the Bronze. That place tested his senses to the limit. Tracking Buffy from a distance was so much easier out in the open, away from the music. So of course she had to head in somewhere where the music was even louder. For a minute there, Jon wasn't sure he'd be able to keep track of her. Actually, for a minute or two, he did lose her.

"Dammit, I can't ... it's too fucking loud." Jon grouched.

Xander patted his shoulder. "Switch to scent, then." He advised. "Less interference with that."

Jon grumbled, but did as Xander suggested. It took him another minute to dial his hearing down to normal, get his sense of smell dialed up, and ferret out Buffy's scent from the mass of scents coming from the frat house. It didn't allow him to pinpoint her exact location the way sound did, but he'd know her general location and whether or not she was in danger.

It ended up being one of the longer continuous tracking exercises Jon had undergone since he'd hooked up with Xander. It was more than a little tiring, balancing keeping track of Buffy with keeping his other senses actively tracking Xander so he didn't zone. Fortunately, Xander had taken to his role as Guide like a duck to water. He prattled on endlessly about various things, sometimes starting debates that Jon had to actively participate in. He also patted Jon on the shoulder or shoulder-bumped him at irregular intervals.

Not having to do things via trial and error helped Jon and Xander immensely. Thanks to Blair and Jim's hard-earned knowledge the two of them had managed to avoid zones entirely so far and Jon had only suffered a couple of spikes early in their stint in Sunnydale. They did have to tweak Blair and Jim's methods, but tweaking something was a whole hell of a lot easier than coming up with what to do from scratch.

Eventually the party started to die down. Xander patted Jon's shoulder. "You'd better dial hearing back up now. Since nothing's happened yet, I'm betting it will now, with the party dying down."

Jon agreed with that assessment, and carefully started to bring his hearing back up. He got it up just in time to hear Buffy's calm declaration. He made due mental note that her scent hadn't changed in the slightest. Clearly, tracking her and expecting a change in her scent wasn't going to work. Either that or it'd take something a lot more dangerous than a 'big damn snake'.

"Why does it have to be snakes?" Jon bitched. "She says there's a big damn snake in the basement and to watch the girls because they're drugged up."

"Right. Shall we?" Xander asked, grinning at Jon as he hefted the axe he'd become increasingly fond of over the last few weeks.

"We shall." Jon pulled his own knives while having to suppress the wish for a P-90. He knew damn well they'd do no good here but he was used to using them to make bad guys cry for their mommies.

Giles, who'd been standing a few feet away with Willow - the pair of them keeping quiet so Jon could monitor Buffy - spoke up. "Willow, keep to the rear. You'll be in charge of getting the girls out of harm's reach while we deal with the snake and the frat boys."

Willow nodded. "Right."

Without wasting any more time, the four of them headed for the frat house door. Jon took great pleasure in kicking the thing in.

The first floor was mostly people-free, with only two frat boys in evidence. Jon took great pleasure in using some of his Spec Ops training to take the two of them down and out of the equation. Willow, armed with zip ties, quickly trussed them up and dragged them into a corner where they'd be out of the way. She didn't make any attempt to make the transfer easy on the two boys.

The three men quickly headed down the stairs. It was ... rather an odd scene. There were something like twenty girls standing about, dull-eyed and unconcerned, being guarded by a single frat boy. Buffy and Cordelia were back to back, trying to keep four more frat boys at bay and deal with what truly was a big, ugly snake at the same time.

Jon went straight for the lone frat boy while Giles and Xander quickly started herding the girls back up the stairs to Willow. Xander briefly wished they'd brought the crossbows, which had been vetoed on account of their having to fight in a very enclosed space where firing arrows wouldn't really be possible. It wouldn't have been possible in the frat house proper but down here there was enough room for it and the extra firepower might have helped against the snake.

Fortunately - with the girls so suggestible - getting them back upstairs proved to be ridiculously simple. Then it was down to the frat boys and the damn snake. Knocking the frat boys out of the fight proved to be easy enough. The snake proved to be an entirely different matter.

They worked as a team trying to deal with the snake. One or two of them would draw the thing's attention while the other two tried to sneak in and take a whack at it. Unfortunately, not even Buffy's enhanced strength was putting a dent in the thing's hide.

"There has *got* to be a way to kill this thing!" Xander yelled after a few minutes, dancing out if its reach.

"See if the young men know. I have never encountered this particular demon before." Giles shouted back.

"Got it." Jon said. "Give me five and I'll see what they know."

Jon backed away from the fight and headed for one of the knocked out frat boys. It didn't take long to wake the idiot back up. Nor did it take all that long to acquire the information he wanted. He might only look sixteen, but he did have all of Jack's knowledge and experiences, and that made for a rather formidable interrogator when he put his mind to it.

He raced up the stairs and headed for a small office at the back of the frat house. There, hanging on the wall was a sword. He yanked it off the wall and raced back down the stairs.

"Buffy, heads up, got something for you." Jon yelled.

It took a minute for Buffy to manage to get close enough to Jon for him to hand her the sword. "We've tried swords." She pointed out, hefting the one she'd been using.

"This one has special spells on it or some shit." Jon said.

"All right. Worth a try anyway. We're getting nowhere as it stands."

Jon went back to helping distract the thing from Buffy. The next time she took a poke at it, the sword didn't bounce off. It actually cut the damn thing. The snake shrieked in rage and took a vicious swing at Buffy, but she'd already danced back out of range.

It took another ten minutes of frantic dancing around before Buffy finally managed to get a really good swing at the thing, and succeeded in separating its upper half from its tail. It let out a godawful noise that got cut off halfway through and then collapsed on the basement floor, clearly dead.

For a moment they all stood there, panting and staring at the now-dead demon. After a few moments, Cordelia broke the quiet with a disgusted shriek.

"I have blood all over me! I've ruined this dress! I should have known better than to let you idiots con me into helping you!" She whined.

She kept going as she stormed up the stairs. The Scoobies exchanged amused eye rolls behind her back as they joined her.

"What do we do with the frat boys?" Buffy asked.

"I am unsure." Giles admitted. "They will not be brought to justice in this town, so bringing them to the police station is pointless."

"Leave that to me, guys." Willow said as she joined them. "I can make sure they end up ruined. Especially if Major Carter helps."

That made Jon laugh. "She will." He said. "She definitely will."

Chapter Text

Interlude: Sam Zabuto, Kendra and Spike

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Samuel Zabuto, like his father, and his father before him for a multitude of generations, was a Watcher. He had learned the Watcher creed at his father's knee. He'd learned five languages and studied under the best field Watchers in the Council before he'd been allowed to work on his own.

He had worked hard and sooner than he thought, he had distinguished himself enough that his elders felt he was ready for the responsibility of raising and training a Potential. He had been given Kendra, then just two years old.

He had begun her training at once. Demon names and identifying characteristics had been her nightly recital in place of prayer. He had drilled her relentlessly on languages, weapons, and fighting techniques from dawn to dusk. More importantly, he had borne upon her the solemnity of her duty, should she be Chosen. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of the Slayer. She could not be found wanting in any particular.

He had impressed on Kendra the need to hold herself apart, to keep separate, to keep her secret safe. He had taught her to find fulfillment and purpose in her duty, with no need for praise or approbation from any source, including himself. In short, he had taught her to be the perfect Slayer, as described by the Council.

As Watcher to a Potential, he had been kept abreast of the current Slayers and the battles they faced. This had more to do with having a heads up on particularly ugly upcoming fights, just in case the Slayer died, than it did anything else. Thus, he had been informed about Buffy.

Undiscovered Potentials were fairly rare. Demons and vampires were drawn to Potentials and frequently killed them, given the chance. As a result, Potentials without a Watcher seldom survived for very long. Undiscovered Potentials who became Slayers were all but unheard of, and invariably died very quickly. Without the training provided by the Council, such girls usually perished in their first battle.

Sam hadn't known Buffy's first Watcher, even by reputation. He thought the man a fool, to have gotten involved in matters enough to end up dead. That was not a Watcher's role. A Watcher wasn't there to fight, he was there to watch, to guide, to inform.

He had not approved at all of the appointment of Buffy's second Watcher. Rupert had always been something of a black sheep in the Watchers, a bit wild and unpredictable and given to questioning Watcher dogma unnecessarily. Sam's objections to the man were borne out when Sam discovered Rupert was permitting some local teens to 'assist' his Slayer.

That had been cause for a great deal of consternation and outright horror in the Council. Something like that simply wasn't *done*. Civilians weren't to even *know* about the demonic, never mind getting into the fight. It wasn't their place. That mere children had presumed to do so, and not been sent packing two seconds later by Rupert was horrifying. Children were indiscreet. They were braggarts. Rupert risked the discovery of the demonic world allowing their involvement.

The news, of course, kept getting worse. Evidently, Rupert was permitting his Slayer to consort with a vampire, permitting the creature to continue existing. It had been a relief to everyone when the next prophecy rolled around and Buffy's death so imminent. Hopefully the next girl would be a proper Slayer.

Unfortunately, it proved to not be that simple. Oh, Buffy had died, that much was for certain. After all, Kendra had come online as a Slayer, and there was only one way for that to happen. The problem was that Buffy was still alive and still had Slayer powers.

The Council had had enough. They told Sam to get Kendra fully up to speed as a Slayer as soon as possible, and then they were going to be transferred to Sunnydale. Buffy and Rupert and that gaggle of kids were going to be dealt with one way or another.

Kendra had made the transition from Potential to Slayer seamlessly. She'd actually fully adapted to her increase in speed and strength before a month was out. Unfortunately, things in Sunnydale had become rather chaotic. Buffy had apparently abandoned her duty for a time, and then so had Rupert. There seemed to be a lot of going back and forth for a bit, along with the appearance of a new 'helper' among the crew, and worse, several new adults who were apparently now in the know, including Buffy's mother. The Council had ordered him to hold off until they could figure out what the heck was going on, and how to insert Kendra into Sunnydale without alerting any authorities to anything suspicious.

Fortunately their chance came when it was discovered that a student exchange program was scheduled to be taking place in Sunnydale. While they could have just moved into the town, Kendra's distinctive accent would have garnered unwanted attention. As just another foreign student in the exchange program, she would go essentially unremarked. Sam got his own marching orders. He was to observe, record, and then report the interactions of the group. Once more data was on hand, he would confront Rupert. It was very likely that Sam would be asked to replace Rupert at least temporarily, until a suitable replacement could be found for Buffy.

Sam did not envy the Watcher they found to replace Rupert. Reeducating Buffy was going to be a Herculean task. Driving off the so-called helpers would be even more problematic. It wouldn't surprise Sam in the least if the Council had to resort to extraordinary measures to fix the mess Rupert had created.

"Kendra, pack your gear. We will be driving to Sunnydale in the morning." Sam informed her.

"Yes sir." Kendra said. She immediately headed for her small room.

She didn't have much to pack. Clothes enough for two weeks, Mr. Pointy, a crossbow and a sword was the sum total of her belongings. It only took her a few minutes to pack everything into two suitcases, one for her clothes, the other for her crossbow and sword. Mr. Pointy stayed with her at all times. Once she had finished with her own packing, she headed to Sam's office to assist him with packing his myriad of books, scrolls, and other items.

She was not looking forward to having to interact with the 'other' Slayer. The girl seemed to be ... sloppy. Lazy. Careless. Among other adjectives Kendra could think of. Did this Buffy not understand how serious being a Slayer was? Did she care so little for the lives of innocents that she would let untrained civilians attempt to fight with her? Did she care so little for the fate of the world? Kendra didn't understand it at all.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

As much as Spike would have liked to hole up somewhere and grieve Dru, he simply couldn't afford to. The very next morning, Spike dragged himself out of the office where he'd gone to grieve in private and gone to the main floor to deal with the minions who had responded to his demand to appear and swear fealty to him.

Some half dozen or so minions had made their way to the warehouse after the Slayer and her crew had burned down the other warehouse, giving Spike just over twenty vampires to start his court with. It took about an hour, maybe two to accept their oaths. Once that was done, he folded his arms over his chest for a moment and glowered at the assembled vampires.

"Right, this is how it's going to work. You lot can feed all you like, but turnin's my job. You turn someone without my permission, you and they are dust. I do *not* want to hear about any of you jokers being caught and dusted by the Slayer. Learn her patrol pattern and stay the hell out of her way. If you fuck up and get her attention, I ain't gonna save your ass. The lot of you combined don't have what it takes to take that bint on and win. Leave her to me. Also: Do not bring dinner home with you. Do not bring any attention whatever to the lair. You bring the Slayer or her groupies down on us, I'll dust you."

He dropped his arms and started to pace, duster flaring behind him. "As of this mornin', any vamp not in this warehouse is fair game to be hunted and dusted. I want every known vamp lair searched for anything of use to us, before the Slayer thinks of it and steals everything. I want guards on all the entrances to the lair at all times. Anybody spots the Slayer, her groupies, or anyone else that don't belong in the lair heading this way, get the hell out of the lair. You lot understand all of that?"

He got a ragged chorus of agreement. Satisfied, at least for the moment, he turned on his heel and dropped down into the tunnel access to do a bit of hunting. He needed to start eliminating any lingering vampires as soon as possible, to send a message to any stragglers that they needed to get the heck out of town as soon as possible. The fighting would also serve as a damn good way to work out a bit of his foul mood and grief.

New-risen minions weren't much of a challenge to Spike's fighting skills, however, and that was pretty much all that remained in Sunnydale. If there were more than a half-dozen vampires in town that had been undead for more than ten years, Spike would have been surprised. In order to give vent to his anger and grief, Spike soon began to make a game of just how much damage he could do before each minion he found dusted.

Needless to say, by mid-day, word had gotten around the demonic circles that Spike was on a tear. There wouldn't be all that many vampires remaining for his Court to hunt. That was fine with Spike.

Come evening, after everyone had slipped out to feed and then returned, Spike started assessing his Court's abilities when it came to fighting. Most of them, as befit minions turned by minions on the Hellmouth, were pitiful fighters. Spike planned to change that, and teach them some of his tricks.

The next few days set up a routine. Spike hunted the tunnels by day, eliminating whatever vampires he found along with the occasional 'other' demon that managed to piss him off or show its face at the wrong time. He would head to the surface at dusk and feed. Then he would return to the lair and wait for his Court to return from their forays, and start the evening's training.

Through that next week, Lucas proved himself to be invaluable. He was a shit fighter, and probably always would be, but he was more clever than most of the rest of the minions. He was able to think things through and act on his own recognizance a lot better than the others. After thinking about it a few days, Spike went ahead and started feeding Lucas small amounts of his own blood, a process that would eventually elevate Lucas to Childe status. As a result of that, Lucas became his first Lieutenant, the one that gave orders in his absence and ensured Spike's orders were followed.

The other real prize was the quiet, efficient fellow that had been one of the first to join Spike's Court. Spike had eventually named the guy Silent Bob, as he rarely spoke. Bob wasn't as intelligent as Lucas, but he followed orders without whinging and was pretty competent, and was a better fighter than Lucas. He served as Spike's second Lieutenant, the one that dealt with the inevitable inter-Court squabbles.

All the training and hunting at least served to distract Spike from the worst of his grief. It was also giving him time to think, to try to plan how to deal with this Slayer and her followers. It was not going to be easy. Spike wasn't going to be able to predict anything about how she fought or worked.

The only other thing Spike dealt with was the Hellmouth itself. He made it known that anyone who tried to open the damn thing would have him to deal with. The old Master had done much the same, so Spike taking up that mantle didn't surprise the demonic population all that much. Spike knew there'd be demons that tried anyway, especially at first. They were going to have to find out just how determined Spike was to make them bow to his will. Once they figured that out, the weaker sorts would give over, leaving just the bigger, nastier sorts that didn't give a damn what anyone said.

In short, by year's end, Sunnydale would largely be under control, between himself and the Slayer. It would probably mark the first time the town had been anything approaching calm and normal since its creation.

Chapter Text

Inca Mummy Girl, Part 1

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. I am not trying to present Kendra as a bad person. She has been fed the Watcher Party Line all her life, and is thus very uncomplimentary towards the Scooby Gang.

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October 10

Friday afternoon saw the Scoobies, as well as the rest of their class, in the Sunnydale museum. The Scoobies lagged behind the rest of their class, talking quietly among themselves about their plans for that night and the next day.

They planned to stop patrolling earlier than usual that night, then get up earlier than usual and patrol near the bus stop in preparation for the first arrivals. The first of the foreign exchange students were scheduled to arrive via bus just after dawn. While the hour ought to protect the visitors by keeping most of the demon population at bay, none of the Scoobies was willing to take the chance.

After that, they planned to split up. Buffy and Giles would patrol the airport just outside of town, where some of the other students would be arriving. Willow would take her exchange student (one of the ones coming in on the dawn bus) home accompanied by Cordelia, and Xander and Jon would remain at the bus stop to make sure that the other students arriving via that means managed to survive long enough to be picked up by their hosts - and that said hosts weren't actually vampires or demons.

They'd all be pretty darn tired by the end of what would be a long day, but if they managed to keep the new arrivals alive, it would be worth it.

(_)(_)(_)

Unbeknownst to the Scoobies, while they were distracted in the museum, Sam Zabuto and Kendra were arriving in Sunnydale. Sam had arranged to rent an apartment, one of many that had changed hands numerous times over the years as renters fell prey to the nightlife.

Sam immediately sent Kendra out to familiarize herself with the town while he unpacked. He knew he would have to keep a fairly low profile until they were ready to confront Giles and his errant Slayer, as there was a chance that Giles would recognize him as a fellow Watcher. Kendra would be safer, as Giles was extremely unlikely to be on the lookout for another Slayer in town. Insofar as the Council had been able to tell, Giles remained unaware that another Slayer had been called. They presumed that Giles was assuming that Buffy hadn't been dead long enough to call another Slayer. So long as Kendra did not display her fighting prowess where Giles or his Slayer could see her, she would be able to remain incognito.

Kendra immediately began to walk Sunnydale's streets, familiarizing herself with the town's layout. She paid close attention to the location of the many cemeteries and prowled the docks extensively, aware that such a place was ideal for demon habitation. She also marked any abandoned buildings in her memory for further investigation come nightfall It was not prudent to check them out now, when the locals were out and about and would notice someone breaking and entering.

Towards the end of her familiarization tour, she ended up near the small Sunnydale Museum. She was just in time to observe a large number of teenagers exit the facility - among them a blonde girl that conformed to the description given to her of the previous Slayer.

Kendra made a moue of distaste. Going to a museum? Really? Why was the girl wasting valuable training time on frivolities? She was laughing and joking about with several other teenagers as if she hadn't a care in the world. It was disgusting. A Slayer's duty was a solemn one. They sacrificed so that others might live their lives normally, unaware of the dark, evil underbelly of the world. They did not traipse about like that!

Kendra could only assume that some or all of the teenagers Buffy was talking to were the ones she permitted to tag along behind her. Yet another thing Kendra disapproved of quite strongly. Only a Slayer had the tools with which to combat the demons that wandered their world. To permit anyone else to put their nose into the situation was tantamount to committing premeditated murder in her eyes. Mere normal humans could not hope to contend with vampires, let alone the other demons that stalked the night and hunted humans as prey.

Kendra followed the large group of teenagers at a distance, careful to keep Buffy in her general line of sight without actively looking like she was following or watching her and her followers. Observation of the failed Slayer was, after all, one of her mandates for this assignment, so that the Council could figure out the appropriate course of action to follow in order to deal with Buffy.

When the group of teens Buffy was palling around with were met by Giles, Kendra veered off, keeping out of Giles' sight, just in case. Her Watcher had told her that Giles was unlikely to perceive her as a Slayer unless she performed Slayer feats in his presence, but Kendra was taking no chances. After all, her Watcher did not know what, if any, allies Giles had among the Watchers that might have informed him of the goings-on that august body presided over.

(_)(_)(_)

"We're being watched. Again." Jon murmured to the group when Giles met them to dive them back to Buffy's house.

"Oh? Any idea who, or where?" Buffy wanted to know, trying to peer around them without appearing to do so.

"Human, I think. At least, I'm not picking up on any obvious demons in our immediate vicinity." Jon said. "Whoever it is is being careful to either stay out of sight or not garner our attention. Makes it harder to figure out who it is."

In this particular case, picking up on the fact that they were being watched had more to do with Jon's gut instincts than it did his senses. He'd been feeling eyes on his back for a while, since they'd left the museum. He'd learned to trust that sense a long time ago. Or, well, Jack had, which was really the same damn difference. Jon wasn't about to ignore that sort of thing, especially not here.

"Maybe Spike's got someone who can stand daylight keeping an eye on us?" Buffy offered. "Wouldn't be the first time something like that was done, I bet."

"You'd be right." Giles agreed. "Court Masters frequently use other demons, and occasionally favored, trusted humans, to do their dirty work during the daylight hours. Spike certainly seems flexible and adaptable enough to use humans if the opportunity presented itself."

"Oh, goodie. So, anyone getting snoopy about us and what we're doing is to be eyed with great suspicion. Not that we'd be likely to do otherwise, but ... yeah." Buffy said with a sigh.

Patrol that night didn't produce much of anything in the way of demons to fight. The vampire population continued to either not be being expanded, or being expanded in a very cagey manner, which meant no vamps rising in the cemeteries. They only ran into one fairly minor demon that needed an ass-kicking that night, which made it all the easier to call it quits early in preparation for the next day.

(_)(_)(_)

Kendra, unaware of the Scoobies' plans, could only watch in utter horror as the group barely paid lip service to controlling the nightlife population in the town. They only chased down one demon! Kendra was painfully aware that there were a lot more demons than that in this town, thanks to the Hellmouth, and she couldn't begin to understand why Buffy wasn't raiding every demon stronghold in town from dusk to dawn every night. It was her duty! The only reason Kendra herself wasn't doing likewise that night was because she needed at least one night to familiarize herself with the night traffic in town before she went on the offensive.

At dawn, she reported to her Watcher, her dismay at Buffy's abrogation of her duty clear.

"It's horrifying. I don't understand it at all. She did practically nothing all night. She didn't even patrol the entire town like she ought - she only did one small section of it!" Kendra told her watcher. "And she was more interested in goofing off with those civilians that tag along behind her than doing anything she ought to be doing. It's horrifying. How could she *do* this?" she wanted to know.

Sam sighed. "This is what happen when a Potential is not found and trained, Kendra." He told her. "They do everything wrong. The biggest mystery is not that she's doing it wrong, but that she has survived this long. She ought to have died long since - long before the prophecy that temporarily caught her. I truly don't understand how she survived the Hemery situation, never mind anything since. Now, what did you observe of her followers?"

"They are nothing." Kendra declared. "Callow teenagers with no skills to save them. Only one of them seems at all remarkable, and then only because his senses seem to be unusually sharp - he seemed to pick up on the one demon they encountered as quickly as Buffy did."

Sam hmmm'd. "Very well. Patrol tonight, and observe them if you encounter them. We need as much data as we can get before we confront them."

"Yes sir." Kendra told him.

(_)(_)(_)

Unfortunately, that night had not been quite as uneventful as everyone thought it had been.

Kendra had spent time around the docks. This had garnered the attention of the vampire guards keeping watch over Spike's Court lair. They, as per his instructions, immediately informed him and then everyone vacated the premises, just in case.

Fortunately, Spike had had time to set up a secondary Court location in an immense old mansion in town. It was not quite as ideal as the warehouse, but it would work.

Spike sent Lucas out immediately after dark, with the assignment to find and watch the girl that had been spotted prowling around the docks.

"Find out who she is, and what she's up to." He commanded Lucas. "And don't get your sorry ass killed in the process."

Lucas had obeyed Spike's commands with the same sort of success he'd enjoyed tailing Buffy. Moreso, actually. Because this girl didn't have someone with disturbingly preternatural hearing (for a human, anyway) to forewarn her of someone's presence. It had made the girl ridiculously easy to tail. Unfortunately, he was forced to return to the mansion before dawn, so he did not manage to confirm Kendra's identity, at least that particular night. He was only able to tell Spike that she seemed to be inordinately interested in the Slayers' doings.

But by far more alarming was something that the Scoobies missed, thanks to calling it quits early that night. Shortly after they had gone home for the night, a couple of the biggest troublemakers in the high school broke into the museum, intent on stealing some of the valuables within. In the process of their raid, one of them disturbed one of the mummy exhibits, succeeding in breaking the seal on a jar that a mummy from the Incan Empire was holding.

He did not live to regret his mistake. Within moments of the jar's seal being broken, the mummy awoke. She pulled the boy into her coffin and sucked him dry in a move that was eerily similar to that displayed in the Mummy movie series by Imhotep, just without the sandstorm effects.

With the boy drained dry, the mummy climbed out of its coffin. It peeled off its outer wrappings, revealing a young-looking, beautiful, dark-haired girl. She quickly stripped the now-mummified boy's body of its clothing and put it on herself before slipping out of the museum.

A few minutes after she had woken and left, another Inca Empire mummy nearby came to life. This one was male. He blinked about the room for a moment before checking the coffin the girl had risen from. Finding the desiccated remains of the boy, he left to search for his charge.

The female mummy made short work of getting out of town, knowing that her guard would follow her in short order and attempt to force her back into her coffin. That, she wanted no part of. She wanted to live, and intended to do so. But first, she needed another supply of life-force, and then clothes fit for a female and her size, as she was currently swimming in her borrowed clothing.

She managed to make it well out of town in the depths of the night. By sheer happenstance, she managed to make it as far as the last gas station outside of town, a frequent stop for the busses that came in and out of town, as the drivers were uneasy spending any more time than absolutely necessary in Sunnydale, even if they didn't know why.

The bus that would arrive in Sunnydale just at dawn was currently at that gas station. The female mummy made her way to the bathroom, and waited for a female of the right size to be in there alone long enough for her to suck the female dry. That fortunately did not take all that long. The female mummy quickly disposed of the body in the dumpster at the back of the gas station, then boarded the bus, studying the documentation she'd taken off of her victim to learn her victim's name, where the girl had been going, and who might be expecting her there.

She was not well-pleased to find her victim had been heading for Sunnydale. Still, it was better than nothing, and she could always slip away if it looked like her guard was going to find her.

Chapter Text

Inca Mummy Girl, Part 2

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

October 11

It was just as well that the Scoobies got to the bus stop just before dawn. There had been two vampires and a daylight-proof demon lurking in the area. These, fortunately, were easily dispatched. One of the two vampires was smart enough to run when he spotted the Scoobies, but that really didn't do the vamp much good. Buffy just shot him in the head with a crossbow, which was enough to slow him down so she could catch up and stake him properly.

The demon took a bit more effort, but not too much. The hardest part ended up being luring the demon into a nearby alley before killing it. It was the sort of demon that didn't go poof or turn into sludge instantly when killed, which meant that there'd be a body sprawled on the ground for the exchange students to see if they'd killed it out in the open. If they'd had a few hours to spare it wouldn't have been a problem as the body dissolved within a few hours, but as it was they made do.

That done, they stashed the crossbow and their other weapons out of sight. They then spread out around the bus stop. Jon, Xander and Willow stayed close to where the bus would stop when it arrived. Jon had elected to stay close because it was the epicenter of their concerns and staying there gave him the best overview of the immediate area senses-wise. Ranging around might have been wiser, given his senses - he'd have been able to cast a far wider net that way - but Jon was new enough to his senses to worry that he'd accidentally miss something if it happened on the far side of the station from where he was at. Buffy and Giles were the ones that did the ranging around instead.

Fortunately, not a one of the folks that showed up to pick up the exchange students was a demon. That was a load off of the Scoobies' minds, as trying to keep an exchange student from going with a demonic host would have been tricky. They had a contingency plan in place - namely Cordelia, as her folks' place was big enough to room several of the students if it had come to that. That wasn't the problem, though. Convincing someone to go somewhere other than where they'd been told they were going to go would have been the problem. Mostly because it wasn't like they could have told the students the truth.

Finally, just after dawn, the bus arrived. Things got more than slightly chaotic as close to two dozen people got off the bus - not all of them exchange students. Luggage was hauled out of the bus' belly and people milled around waiting to grab their stuff while meeting and greeting their hosts/friends/family.

Basically, for about half an hour, the place was a madhouse.

Willow plowed right into the insanity, trying to find her exchange student. She had, much to the Scoobies' disappointment, only managed to sign up for one. She eventually reappeared with a young man with really, really darkly tanned skin and dark hair. Xander was a little surprised that the kid wasn't wearing a turban and one of those dress-looking things (robes? Whatever they called them), given he was from Egypt. Aside from the dark tan, he looked more or less like any American teenager, as he was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt and tennis shoes.

"Guys, this is Ampata. Ampata, this are my friends Xander and Jon." Willow said.

"Nice to meet you. Hope you enjoy your stay here." Xander said, offering a hand to shake.

Ampata returned the handshake and smiled. "As do I."

Xander mentally slapped himself. First he'd been expecting stereotypical dress, then he'd been expecting stereotypical broken, thickly accented English. Ampata definitely had an accent, but he wasn't at all hard to understand. It made sense that the kids who had been chosen to come to America would be able to speak the language well enough to not need an interpreter.

Jon settled for giving the kid a nod. He was a bit distracted at the moment. Ever since the bus had arrived, he'd been aware that something was off. What, he couldn't pin down in all the chaos, but something definitely was.

He signaled Xander, and they eased away from Willow and Ampata.

"What's up?" Xander asked.

"Something's wrong, but I can't pin it down." Jon told him.

"Right. What do you need me to do?" Xander said.

"Just stay close." Jon said.

He put a hand on Xander's shoulder, using that to anchor himself, then turned more of his attention to his senses, trying to sort through the chaos and figure out what was catching his attention. Finally, he tracked it down. Someone's heartbeat and breathing were slow. Slow enough to have tweaked his senses. Probably sick somehow. Still, it was bugging him so he tried to sort through the various scents and figure out who it was. He finally narrowed it down to one of three girls in a gaggle by the rear of the bus, and mentally tagged all three of them to be watched if they stayed in town. If they didn't, it wouldn't matter.

He finally gave his head a shake. "Just someone with a serious illness, I think." He said. "Heart and breathing slower than they ought to be, but I'm not smelling anything demonic." He glanced around. "Not that I would, right about now."

Xander rolled his eyes. "You're better than that and you know it." Yeah, Jon still had (and would for a while to come) issues with picking up on one particular smell in a smell-heavy environment like this, but it wasn't like demon smells were exactly subtle. Vampires aside, they tended towards the rank-and-nasty end of the smell spectrum.

Jon snorted, but was secretly amused that Xander had caught on to Jon's 'dumb' act incredibly quickly. It had taken more than one of Jack's superiors embarrassingly long periods of time to figure it out - and more than one of them had never actually figured it out, which was just plain sad. That had ended up being part of why Jack had gotten on so well with Hammond. Hammond had seen straight through the dumb act in about ten seconds - but unlike most of his other superiors, he didn't call Jack on it in public. He let Jack keep the act going with others, but made it clear in private that he knew better.

Though to be fair, Jon had a feeling Xander had an unfair advantage in catching on to the dumb act. Jon had a feeling that Xander played dumb too - certainly, he had more brains than some folks seemed to think. Though Giles and Buffy, who hadn't known Xander for years, were catching a clue now that things had changed so dramatically.

It said volumes, Jon knew, that he was able to think about Jack - about that life at all - without getting so tangled up in emotions he couldn't see straight. He wasn't dumb enough to think that the resentment and anger and everything else wouldn't crop up ever again, but the fact it wasn't a constant anymore was a vast improvement.

It continually surprised him that he'd fallen into what was really a very easy friendship with Xander. It probably shouldn't surprise him, given Jack's friendship with Skarra. There was a fairly similar age gap involved in the two friendships, though it was wider in Xander's case by more than Jack would ever have admitted to, and Jon could pretend didn't exist. Still, it surprised him pretty often.

Introductions done, Willow headed off with Ampata, and Giles and Buffy headed for the airport to patrol and meet the first of the arrivals coming by plane.

Jon made due mental note that all three of the girls he'd mentally tagged were staying in Sunnydale. One of them was an exchange student, as she was met by a family that Xander knew didn't have a daughter that age. The other two, both in their late teens, seemed to be moving into Sunnydale to start their adult lives.

Idiots. Jon couldn't help thinking that, despite knowing the two girls had no way of knowing how dangerous Sunnydale was. The worst part was, there was a damn good chance that both girls would be alive, married, and have kids two or three years from now.

Jon had noticed that native females and out-of-town males made up the bulk of the victims in Sunnydale. It made a certain amount of rather horrifying sense. The demons of Sunnydale needed a continuous supply of victims. The problem was, they hunted pretty regularly, which sort of thinned the potential suppliers of the next generation down pretty far. And if you bred from a bottlenecked population like that long enough, there started being problems with the ... well, with the herd. So new blood needed to be drawn in to keep that from happening.

So, somehow, new blood was drawn in. And who got to stay and 'breed' was kept pretty controlled in a horrifying but ultimately fairly sensible way. The chances of out-of-town males having some sort of capability at self defense - or even possessing the simple aggression to want to fight back if they were attacked - was really high. Most guys participated in some sort of aggressive sport or ... well, something, to burn off their energy. Girls were far less likely to do so. Some girls participated in aggressive sports or learned some form of self defense, of course, but nowhere near as many as the boys.

Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, the sports teams were few, and rather pathetic. Football, basketball, and swimming were pretty much it. None of which did a person much good in the 'surviving the nightlife' stakes. Worse, there were no dojos, boxing rings, or the like anywhere in town. Between that and the fact that they'd grown up soaked in Sunnydale's mojo all their lives, the in-town boys were far more likely to just let things be than their out-of-town counterparts. Pairing them with oblivious and mostly defenseless out of town females meant a minimum of trouble in keeping the populace from starting trouble for the demons while they bred the next generation of victims.

That meant that the out of town males got hunted pretty much as soon as they arrived by the nightlife. Out of town males had a lifespan of less than a year - most, from what Jon had learned from Xander and Willow, lasted less than six months. A rare few wised up to the danger in town and managed to escape before they were killed. In the meantime, those born in Sunnydale rarely if ever left town at all, and if they did, it was mostly day trips to L.A. The number of native Sunnydalians that left and stayed gone that Willow and Xander knew of could be counted on one hand - and two of those were Willow's parents, who rarely spent more than a week in town before bugging out again.

Eventually, the last bus that had an exchange student on it finally arrived shortly after lunch. Their protection duty done, Jon and Xander headed back to Buffy's house for lunch.

Giles and Buffy had beaten them back. There'd only been two flights with exchange students on them, both expected to arrive within an hour of each other, so it hadn't taken long to deal with that end of the arrivals.

"So, anything hinky on your end?" Buffy asked.

"Just that one girl who was really sick." Jon said. "Nothing showed up to eat the new arrivals, and the folks picking the students up were all human."

"We didn't have anyone hinky on our end at all." Buffy said. "Which I was kind of surprised about. You'd think the airport would be a prime hunting ground."

"Maybe not. I mean, it's mostly staffed by out-of-towners, isn't it? Especially in the tower?" Jon pointed out. "And it's just outside of the hellmouth's sphere of influence, which means the chances of deaths or 'kidnappings' there being reported and listened to is a lot higher."

Buffy thought about that for a second, then nodded. "You've got a point there." She said.

At that point, the phone rang. Joyce answered. It proved to be Willow, calling to 'ask' (read: warn them) about coming over with Ampata.

By the time Willow and Ampata arrived, Giles, Buffy, Joyce, Jon and Xander were in a spirited and legitimate debate over what to have for dinner in order to introduce Ampata to American fare, and what movie to watch afterward. Willow jumped right in with her own opinions on the subject when they arrived. Ampata mostly watched them with a distinctly amused expression on his face.

Eventually, they settled on homemade cheeseburgers and Rice-A-Roni, in a (at least by Jon's reckoning) pathetic nod to Ampata's probable preference for rice as a part of a meal. The movie debate, however, raged all through the meal, with everyone flinging out multiple possibilities to be considered and mocking or nixing one or more of the other options. Eventually even Ampata got drawn into that debate, pointing out whether or not he'd seen a particular movie before. They finally settled on a Star Trek movie, though it took considerable arguing before Wrath of Khan was chosen as the one to watch. Willow had been of the opinion that you had to watch all of them in order. Xander had rather emphatically stated that the first movie would put an insomniac to sleep, and really didn't need to be watched to understand the second movie.

Jon had been far too busy laughing at the irony of watching a movie about mucking around in space to contribute much to that part of the debate, though he had agreed that the second movie was far better than the first, and the best movie in the series to start with if you wanted to hook someone on Star Trek. It had all the good stuff - lots of action, a charismatic and clever (if bugfuck nuts) baddie, drama and, well, the works. Giles really hadn't cared much either way - he wasn't as much into television as the younger set was. Buffy agreed with Xander, and so did Joyce, so Wrath of Khan finally won the toss.

Jon cringed and muttered darkly about the eels when that part happened. He'd forgotten about that part entirely. Probably in self defense, given what Jack had been dealing with the last seven years. Fucking mind-control snakes that ate your brain. Jesus. Sometimes, Hollywood hit entirely too close to shit Jack had had to deal with for real. There was a *reason* Jack (and Jon) preferred the Simpsons.

(_)(_)(_)

On the other side of town, the erstwhile Incan mummy girl was now going by the name of Dominga, who hailed from Peru. She had been wise enough to not drain either of her hosts' life forces. They would, she knew, form a first, if somewhat inept, line of defense between her and her erstwhile bodyguard, if he found her before she was able to make good her escape from Sunnydale.

She would have to find someone to drain in the morning - the day's events had been taxing and she could feel herself slowing down faster than she would have liked. She would then need to learn all she could of this strange new world so that she would not stand out too much. So much had changed since she had been forced to sacrifice herself! Modes of transportation, the language, everything. It was all so fascinating! She wanted to stay alive, to learn about and live in this new world.

Chapter Text

Inca Mummy Girl Part 3

(_)(_)(_)

October 12

It hadn't been until Ampata broke out the prayer rug the first time the day before that Xander had realized that Ampata might not necessarily be Christian. Not that it was a big deal - not when he'd been friends with Willow all her life, and she was Jewish. It was just ... different. He'd asked Ampata about dietary restrictions, because he knew that Jews had them (even if Willow didn't always go by them), and he had been fairly sure Muslims had them too, but different ones. Turned out he'd been right about that, but like Willow, Ampata didn't observe that part of his faith particularly stringently. He wasn't about to eat a pork chop or anything like that, but he wasn't going to throw a fit if his food got prepared in the same kitchen as said pork chops.

The gang had walked Willow and Ampata home, since they hadn't left until after dark, under the pretense of giving Ampata a bit of a tour of the town. Then the gang, sans Willow who wasn't going to be able to sneak back out with them tonight, patrolled the town. The entire town.

Normally, they didn't do that. They'd broken the town into overlapping sections, so that they could patrol a workable chunk of the town each night, and cover the entire town over two or three days. But with a bunch of vulnerable, ignorant out-of-towners in the 'dale, they needed to cover the entire town in a fast sweep. Mostly to make sure everyone was inside where they'd be safe. Well, safer.

It was a damn good thing they'd decided to do the whole town, because they found four of the exchange students out. It had taken some fast talking, but they'd convinced all four that staying out after dark was a Very Bad Idea. Unfortunately, because of the fast sweep and trying to talk the out-of-towners into going back inside, the Scoobies had missed something rather important down by the docks.

Today being Sunday, everyone congregated at Buffy's house as had become the norm on weekends. Ampata was included of course. They spent most of the day talking about their respective countries and cultures, watching more movies, and generally getting to know each other. Xander decided that Ampata was a pretty ok guy. Provided he survived the next week (which the gang was going to do their utmost to guarantee), Xander thought being pen-pals with the guy might be workable.

(_)(_)(_)

Elsewhere in Sunnydale, the day was going ... fairly well. Dominga had been able to obtain enough life-force the night before to last her several days. Now she just had to evade her erstwhile bodyguard and she would be all set.

Though she had noticed something odd the night before- a group of teens wandering around in a group, looking like they were looking for trouble. She remembered seeing most of them, if only briefly, at the bus stop that morning, so she'd decided to steer clear of them.

Dominga spent the day wandering the town people-watching and learning about this new world. She found it utterly fascinating, if confusing. Especially the odd-looking people she came across in a few places. Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy it as much as she might have liked. She had to duck her guard several times, as he kept almost stumbling across her. Whatever else she did, she didn't want to get caught.

(_)(_)(_)

In his secondary Court HQ, Spike was receiving a rather intriguing report from Lucas and a couple other lower-ranked vampires who'd witnessed something odd during their nightly hunt. A girl who had sucked some people dry in a way that didn't match up with any demon Spike knew of.

"Track her tonight." He told Lucas. "I want to know who she is and where she's from and why she sucks people dry."

Lucas nodded, accepting the orders. "Also, the Slayer and her groupies didn't really hunt last night. They altered their usual pattern pretty heavily. Swept the entire town instead of just part of it, and I didn't see them actually kill any vamps or demons last night at all."

Spike frowned. "Huh. They must be tryin' to protect the out-of-townies the rumor mill's been so hot about the last few days." There'd been more than one demon looking forward to hunting an exotic snack.

Spike had informed his Court they weren't to so much as sniff in the general direction of the out-of-towners. He recognized that if they went missing and never went back home, it would generate notice, which would never be a good thing for Sunnydale. The demonic population had a good thing here - plentiful hunting grounds, entertainment, and a benevolent town leadership that actively encouraged demonic activity. All that would change if outsiders took notice of the town, and Spike knew it.

Unfortunately, while Spike could and did dictate what his Court did, he didn't yet have the ability to do the same with the other demonic residents and make it stick. He needed to build up his Court's numbers and turn them into an effective fighting force before he could pull that off. That said, he could and had spread the word anyway. He was counting on the tear he'd gone on when he'd taken up Mastership and their obedience to the old Master (and the tendency for demons to not adapt quickly, which would have some of them obeying him out of habit) to cow most of the local demons. It would at least reduce the chances of the visitors getting eaten.

"Nobody but Lucas goes out above the surface tonight." Spike ordered. "Not until we know if the Slayer's gonna keep to this routine while those folks are in town. If you gotta hunt, snack on something in the tunnels."

Several of the minions made faces, but none of them dared actually speak out. Spike had made it very clear that he was willing to make an example out of anyone that questioned his orders. Well, anyone from the minion level, anyway. He didn't want them getting the idea that they actually had a brain among them. Which they really didn't. At least, not yet.

That said, his tendency to dust anyone that bucked him had ensured that the stupidest minions were now long gone, leaving only the middling-stupid and halfway intelligent minions. Of which there was a scant handful, to be honest. The old Master hadn't exactly been in a position to ensure quality in his minions, just quantity.

Spike knew he'd have to sire some folks soon if he wanted to really make a dent. He was just taking his time observing the herd, as it were. He'd not be culling the weakest of the lot, after all. He wanted minions with a bit of brain and some sort of skill, like Lucas. Besides which, siring replacement vamps was going to be tricky. He wouldn't be able to leave them to be buried, for one - the Slayer and her groupies still kept an eye on the graveyards. For another, snatching someone to sire required good timing now ... catching the right person out at night, away from where the Slayer and her groupies were patrolling.

He already had his eye on a couple folks. A pair of teens that didn't hang out anywhere near the Slayer on any kind of basis, both of them tech-heads and geeks. Spike knew the value of that sort, even if they generally couldn't fight worth a damn. There were a few adults he had his eye on as well.

Two of his potential adult targets he would admit he was eyeing partially to fuck with the mind of one of the Slayer's groupies. Though there were ... advantages ... to siring someone with violent tendencies and a mean streak a mile wide. Be fun to see what sort of hell those two could raise if he did sire them. He wasn't completely positive he would, yet. Mostly because the both of them were die-hard drunks who'd pickled their livers a long time ago, and Spike didn't want to end up with a second-hand hangover.

(_)(_)(_)

Things were not quite so sanguine in the apartment Sam Zabuto and Kendra were sharing. Kendra had, as per her Watcher's orders, observed Buffy and her group. Unaware of the reasons behind their actions (or rather, their lack of action) she was not at all impressed.

"She did not even patrol last night." Kendra told Zabuto. "All she and those ... children ... did was walk around town and talk to various people. They did not stake a single vampire or demon all night." Then she frowned. "Not that there were vampires to be found. I have seen perhaps three since we arrived. There are more demons here than vampires."

Zabuto frowned. "That is strange. According to the Council, the Hellmouth is heavily populated by vampires as well as demons. I wonder what has occurred to change that." Then he shook his head. "It is of no consequence. What of your own hunting efforts?"

"A single vampire and three Giosu." Kendra informed him. "I thought I saw a Fyarl, but it disappeared too quickly for me to be certain. By the time I got to where I thought it had been, it was long gone. I checked the cemeteries but they were empty of both older vampires and new-risen ones."

Zabuto actually smiled. "Ah. I believe I understand what has happened. I believe a vampire has crowned itself Master of the Hellmouth. That would account for many of the changes you have observed. Especially the lack of new minions about. Masters do tend to control who is turned and when. Whether this vampire will succeed in its claim long-term will be ... interesting to observe."

"I will not be attacking its nest, if I find it, then?" Kendra asked.

"Not immediately. We still are not fully informed as to the goings-on here. Until we know more, it would not be wise to go on the offensive. The Hellmouth changes a lot of things as to how demons interact, so depending on typical behavior is unwise. That said, you will of course kill any vampire you encounter on your patrols."

(_)(_)(_)

That night, things got ... interesting.

Buffy and company did indeed do their fast check through the entire town again, but this time only half the Scoobies did it. The other half (Buffy, Giles, and a reluctant Angel) did a proper patrol of a section of town. It was during that patrol that Angel, led by his nose, found the sucked-dry bodies by the docks.

"What could do this?" Buffy asked Giles.

"I am unsure." Giles admitted. "Nothing comes immediately to mind. We shall have to do some research come the morning. Unless you know of something, Angel?"

"I can't think of anything either." Angel admitted after a few moments. "I've seen all sorts of leftovers after a demon got done with a human, but nothing quite like this."

"Right. In the meantime, keeping my eyes open for anything odd for the rest of the patrol. Not that I wasn't already, but ... you know. Just ... better."

Giles gave Buffy an amused smile. "Quite." He agreed, not bothering to try to get something that made sense out of her. He'd learned better in the last year or so. Sometimes, Buffy just couldn't spit it out, and came up with increasingly odd work-arounds when pushed.

(_)(_)(_)

Meanwhile, on the other end of town, a different encounter was taking place.

Dominga was still out and about, exploring. She was not expecting her bodyguard to show up, but he did.

"You must return." The man said, in their native tongue.

"No. I will not. I want to live. I want to explore. This ... should not have been asked of me. It wasn't fair."

"Nevertheless, you will return." The man said, and started to lunge forward.

He never made it.

Lucas had been tracking the odd girl, and had noticed the bodyguard sniffing around her. Aware something odd was going on, he had hurried back to the lair to inform Spike, who had come out to take a look. When the bodyguard lunged at the girl, Spike erupted out of the shadows and took him down. It wasn't even hard - the guy wasn't exactly beefed up or anything.

One foot on the bodyguard's neck to keep him down, Spike eyed Dominga.

"You got an interesting appetite." He commented.

Dominga, not exactly stupid, even if she was ill-informed, tried to pretend she didn't know what Spike was on about. "I do not know what you mean."

"Those bodies at the dock. Nice work. Never seen that before. So what are you?" Spike said.

"I am just a girl."

"Yeah, an' I'm just a guy." Spike said with a snort, then vamped out for a second. "Don't lie to a liar, doll. It don't work."

It took another couple minutes, but Spike eventually got her to confess the whole story. Once she had, he shook his head.

"Well, if you want to stay alive, it's easy enough to manage. I just kill this bloke and nobody'll be after you. But you're gonna need a guide for a while. There's folks around here that'd try to kill you off if they notice you. Might have already. You hang out with me, I'll watch your back and let you hang out as long as you want."

Dominga liked the sound of that. "Then we are agreed." She said.

Spike grinned at her, then grabbed the bodyguard. Since he wasn't sure if he could eat the guy, given he'd come back to life and all that jazz, he literally ripped the guy's head off.

"Lucas, go burn this, and then dump the ashes in the ocean, just to be sure." Spike told his lieutenant.

"You got it boss." Lucas said, grabbing the body.

"C'mon, pet. I'll take you to my place and introduce you around." Spike said, motioning for Dominga to join him.

Privately, he was cheering. Oh, she was naive, but she had potential. That power of hers could be very useful, and if he played it right, he'd be able to have her off enemies he couldn't or didn't want to. At least, if she could suck demons dry as well a humans. And even if she couldn't ... well, she did look and act human, and might just be able to wiggle into the Slayer's pack.

And as invested as she seemed to be in staying alive, it ought to be fairly easy to corrupt her into being willing to suck anyone dry at any time. She was damn close to it already.

Chapter Text

Interlude: Good, Bad, and Ugly, Part 1

(_)(_)(_)

October 13 - 21 The Scoobies

Monday started the school week. The Scoobies had fun on Monday showing Ampata around the school. They even got to hear about the differences between American schooling and what Ampata got in Egypt. Towards the end of the school day, Jon sought out Xander.

"I'm picking up on that sick girl again, a little." Jon told him.

"She must have something fairly bad wrong, then - like maybe cancer or something, if she's still bad after two days, but not coughing or sniffling or anything like that." Xander said after a moment or two. He felt bad for her. Being sick at all sucked, but having something really bad and possibly terminal wrong with you was even worse.

Jon sighed, but nodded. "That's what I'm figuring." He too felt badly for the afflicted girl.

They had to patrol without Willow that night, as she couldn't figure out a way to reasonably excuse her absence without Ampata trying to tag along. That night marked the first time they found the sucked-dry bodies.

"Ok, this is new." Buffy said, standing over the body that Jon had tracked down, her expression somewhere between disgust and curiosity. "Giles?"

Giles shook his head. "I've never seen the like. Nor do I remember reading about a demon that would do this. We'll have to do some research to figure it out."

They never found another sucked dry body. This caused a lot of debate on the fourth night.

"Either whatever it is was just passing through, which I doubt." Buffy said, holding up a finger. "It's learned to hide its leavings better." Another finger. "Or something else is coming behind it and making use of its ... leftovers ... before we find them." Buffy raised a third finger and made a disgusted face.

Xander sighed as he closed another book. "And we're getting nowhere with research, so we can't exactly figure out which of those is the case."

They'd found half a dozen demons who could suck a human body dry. The problem was that they weren't viable alternatives. One was really big - as in two stories tall which would make it all but impossible to hide. The second had a strong, distinctive scent. The third emptied entire villages in a single night, which eliminated it as a suspect because they'd only found the one body. The fourth needed the sort of thin air only available at high altitudes, which meant it couldn't survive in Sunnydale. The other two were only ever seen to arrive in the wake of other demons when things got REALLY bad on Earth every now and again, and those other demons weren't around.

Granted, they hadn't searched all of Giles' books yet, but it wasn't looking good to match up the critter they were dealing with with something the Council knew about. While they were all aware that it wasn't possible for the Council to know about every demon in existence, it was annoying to have no information to work with. The possibility of committing a fatal error was a lot higher when they knew nothing about what they were facing.

Jon was a little more outwardly sanguine about the whole mess than the others, mostly because he was used to walking into a situation where he knew fuck-all and making it back out alive. He'd long ago learned to deal with it, whether he liked it or not. Or, well, Jack had, which was really the same damn thing. That said, he wasn't all that happy about an ongoing, unknown threat in town thanks to his Sentinel instincts.

The remainder of the week was surprisingly quiet despite the new, unknown threat. Thanks to their increased patrols and unsubtle hints to stay inside after dark, none of the foreign students got eaten. Better, there were very few demons and vampires out and about despite the 'new blood' running around. This too caused a good bit of debate, as it seemed counter intuitive to the younger Scoobies.

"It's gotta be Spike." Jon said after one particular debate. "Giles said he was different from most vamps, and Giles also said Court Masters control the action in their territory. Put the two together ... "

Willow nodded. "And Spike just might be smart enough to realize that targeting the foreign students would be a bad idea, because it would focus unwanted attention on Sunnydale that might not go away."

It made as much sense as any other explanation they came up with, and a good bit more sense than some of the other ideas they'd had. Whatever was going on, they were just grateful that they weren't having to work overtime to protect the foreign exchange students. Finally, Saturday rolled around again and the exchange students left for the next school on their tour.

Ampata promised to write and stay in touch with them, having enjoyed his stay, and the Scoobies promised likewise. Despite the promise, none of the Scoobies were sure if they'd actually be able to. It was entirely possible that they or he would eventually forget about writing each other. After all, despite the horrific conditions in town, no one seemed to know or care about Sunnydale in the wider world. The county and the state of California were both aware that Sunnydale existed. Neither governmental boy seem overly concerned about a lack of paperwork from the town. That fact implied there was some sort of mojo that kept people from being interested in Sunnydale on a certain level. If a person wanted to move there they were fine. Anything else, not so much.

Once the exchange students left, the gang met up in Buffy's basement to celebrate and relax a little bit. They were still concerned about what it was that had sucked someone dry, but after almost a week of research, nothing to show for it, and no new bodies, they'd reluctantly shelved the issue. Giles, who was keeping track of how many of what sort of baddie they dealt with a night - whether they killed it or not - made sure to write down about the sucked-dry bodies just in case more started showing up somewhere down the road.

They'd been sprawled about in the basement for about a half hour when Jon abruptly sat up and turned, frowning towards the general direction of the street. "Jim and Blair are coming." He said.

Xander did a double take. "Really? I wonder why? I hope nothing's wrong ... "

They all trooped upstairs. About five minutes later, Jim and Blair pulled up in a rental and got out. There were a lot of handshakes, and to Xander's secret pleasure and outward squirming dismay, a semi-awkward hug for him from Jim.

"Well, neither of you is hurt, so ... " Jon cocked his head, curiosity plain on his face.

"We wrapped up a case yesterday and Simon gave us the weekend off. We decided to come down and spend some time with Xander and you lot." Jim said.

Xander did another double take. He was thoroughly unused to even semi-parental figures wanting much of anything *positive* to do with him. Yell at him, hit him, denigrate him, sure. Be nice? Not so much. And while he'd been around Joyce and Giles, both of whom treated him well, he still wasn't *used* to it, not after a lifetime of ill treatment. And they weren't his actual parents. That Jim was going to the effort of traveling a VERY long way just for a weekend's worth of time with him blew Xander's mind. It had blown his mind back at the Parent-Teacher night too. He hadn't quite started thinking of Jim as his father, but if this kept up he definitely would, and sooner rather than later.

For his own part, Jim had been rather surprised that Simon had given them the weekend at first. But then he realized that Simon would be sympathetic to Jim's desire to get to know his son and spend time with him. Simon wouldn't really be able to play favorites, but he could afford to shove Jim out of the precinct for a weekend when they weren't working a case. Jim's record and the fact he had close to a year's worth of vacation time saved up thanks to NOT taking down time unless he was forced to do so worked in his favor there.

"So, the troll giving you any more problems?" Jim asked.

He'd been somewhat disappointed to miss out on giving Snyder shit for messing with Xander. Evidently the little shit had enough self-preservation to recognize that Jim was a physical threat. He just didn't have enough to have realized that Joyce was just as big a threat until it had been too late.

"Nope. He's mostly left us alone since then. A few grumpy comments, but nothing more than that." Xander said with a grin.

They spent the afternoon watching movies. Willow, Giles, and Joyce were all hard put to not laugh at Xander, Jon, Jim and Blair, as the four men had arranged themselves rather interestingly. Jim was turned so that he could keep an eye on the front door. Jon had placed himself so that he could keep an eye on the back door. They'd put Blair and Xander between them, so that anyone approaching the two Guides would have to pass by their Sentinels first.

What was funny about it was that none of the four seemed to be truly aware of what they'd done. In Jim and Blair's case, they'd gotten so used to Jim physically shielding Blair from danger (as much as he could) that it didn't really register on a conscious level for either of them. Jon and Xander were too new to it to really notice it yet.

What no one in the room realized, but would have found both hysterically funny and interesting as hell, was that Jim and Jon had automatically, instinctively placed themselves on the very outer edges of the room, putting Giles, Joyce, and Willow as well as their Guides where a threat would have to get past one of the two of them first.

Jim had debated with himself the entire flight up about whether or not he'd pull the kids into training while they were there. Eventually, reluctantly, he'd decided not to. For one, he didn't want Xander to start assuming that Jim's only interest in him was to train him to be an effective Guide and a credible threat to the Sunnydale nightlife rather than a liability. Once their relationship was on firmer ground it wouldn't be such a concern, but for now it was. For another, Jim didn't want to step on Jon's toes too much. He knew Jon had training, and could and would pass it on. Jon just might see Jim trying to train the others as an infringement on his territory. God knew Jim would see it that way, if some other Sentinel showed up (god forbid) and tried to pull that shit at the precinct.

That said, he couldn't protect the kids from Blair. He strongly suspected there would be at least one conference and a training session with Blair before they left. Blair would at least want to reassure himself as to the pair's progress. Jim could tell him they were fine, but Blair would need to see it for himself.

When dusk hit, Jim and Blair helped patrol. Jim honestly didn't know how Jon dealt with Sunnydale. There was so much weird shit pinging Jim's senses it drove him a little nuts. He honestly didn't think he'd be able to spend more than about a week here at a stretch because of it.

They slept on the couch that night - Joyce had invested in a sleeper couch in anticipation of having more guests than she did beds after taking Xander in and finding out about the Sunnydale nightlife and her daughter's ... job, for lack of a better word. More movie watching happened the next morning and afternoon, until Jim and Blair finally had to leave for their flight back to Cascade.

"We'll come back down when we can." Jim said. "But I don't know if we'll get a chance before Christmas ... it all depends on whatever cases we get. That said, you lot are invited up to Cascade for Christmas. I figure it'll be a bit quieter and easier to celebrate there." Jim told them.

Xander groaned. "You do realize you just jinxed it, right?" He asked with a grin.

Jim glowered, then sighed. "Damn it, you're probably right. Oh well. Nothing for it now." He shrugged while Blair snickered and shook his head.

"Don't hesitate to call if you run into a problem." Blair told them. "Sentinel or otherwise."

"We won't." Jon said.

Handshakes and another semi-awkward hug for Xander did the rounds, and then Jim and Blair took off in their rental.

Monday marked the re-start of school. It also marked the return of Angel, who had made himself very scarce due to Ampata's presence. No one had wanted to try to explain things if Ampata noticed that Angel wasn't exactly your bog-standard human. Angel's relief when he found out he'd missed Jim and Blair being in town was more than a little funny to Xander and Jon both. They did ask him if he'd ever heard of a demon that sucked people dry, but Angel was as clueless as they were. With that last (semi) reliable source of information tapped, the whole thing was dropped until such time as it came up again.

Tuesday morning, Snyder announced that certain high schoolers would be escorting the kidlets from the elementary school around on Halloween. The Scoobies were somewhat miffed to find themselves on the list, and were tempted to smack Snyder around a bit until Joyce pointed out that they'd have been patrolling that night anyway.

"Just wear a costume you can fight in if things get dicey." She recommended. "That costume shop opened up yesterday, so you've got plenty of time to pick something you like."

Jon made a face at having to play dress up. "I haven't done this since I was ten." He groused.

"When was that, the dinosaur age?" Xander snarked. It earned him a glower from Jon, and a snicker from Buffy and Willow.

Chapter Text

Interlude: Good, Bad, and Ugly, Part 2

(_)(_)(_)

October 13 - 21 Ethan

Ethan Rayne smiled as he pulled up behind the small store he'd rented for the next month a couple hours after dawn. Ethan had known better than to be out and about in Sunnydale when the sun was down. He was looking forward to the next few weeks. Moreso, he was looking forward to the denouement of his latest scheme in two week's time.

It had taken him an entire year to prepare for this offering to Janus. Many would see it as paradoxical that a major offering to a Chaos God could involve so much planning and preparations and so little spontaneity. It would seem, to most people, to be a bit of an oxymoron. Ethan, however understood that serving a chaos god did not mean chaos at all times, even when making an offering. That was part of why he was a valued acolyte. Janus welcomed any acts of chaos performed in his name, but it took time, effort, and more importantly control to pull off anything involving more than a handful of people, or with any kind of complexity.

It had all begun the previous Halloween, when Ethan had performed a private, personal ritual, dedicating himself to the task of a major event. He had then spent the next weeks gathering as many costumes and other bits and bobbles that could be used as parts of a costume as he could get his hands on.

That had been the easy part. The rest had not been anywhere near as easy. Imbuing each item with the appropriate spell had taken months. The spell was fairly draining and there were hundreds of items to enchant, and he had other commitments besides the costume project, which meant he could only do a couple of items each day during the week. He was generally able to churn out quite a few on the weekends, though. Hand-crafting the control totem had taken another two months, both because of his other commitments and because of the complexity of the crafting and the spells that had to be worked into the totem. Tying all the bespelled items to the totem had involved a two-day marathon with no sleep or food and little water, and a week's recovery time.

He'd also had to find the right spot for the event to take place, procure a store from which to sell the costumes to the unwary, and somewhere to live for the duration. Coming to Sunnydale was a risk, but he couldn't quite resist taunting Ripper with his mere presence. Ripper would doubtlessly assume him to be up to something, but Ripper would never figure out what it was Ethan was planning. Even if Ripper examined the costumes, he'd not figure it out. The spells were undetectable until they were triggered. And then it would be too late.

The true beauty - the true chaos - of the whole plan was that the spells on the costumes did not dictate a specific effect. The spell changed its victim depending on their perceptions of what the costume was. That was why so much of Ethan's stock was fairly generic and moldable to different purposes. For instance, he had hooded robes, which depending on what the wearer had in mind, could end up being anything from a monk to a Jedi. And while older or more well-informed children would default to a generic 'Army' soldier in the camo fatigues, the younger or less well informed would end up as anything from Army to Marine. The dresses would provoke a similarly wide range of changes.

Well, he'd better get a move on. The quicker he got his wares set up, the more people who'd buy them. Ethan got out of the truck he'd rented to haul the costumes here in, and pulled the key to the store's back door out of his pocket.

It took him until just past lunch to haul in all the boxes. Fortunately, the store came with racks and shelves enough for his wares. Doubly fortunately, Ethan had pre-organized the costumes when he packed them, so all he had to do was open a box and start hanging or stacking. But that would wait until after he'd had a bite to eat, and had put out the flyers he'd made announcing his store, so that he might have custom as soon as tomorrow.

By the time he called it quits an hour before dark, the store was almost completely set up. He'd have a few last things to do tomorrow, but not much. A few last posters to put up, money to put in the till so he could make change, and the bin of smallest bits and bobbles to put near the register, and he'd be done.

A week later Ethan was quite pleased. He'd already divested himself of a nice portion of his stock. He anticipated that the following week would see most of the rest of it sold. He knew that sales of costumes would increase almost exponentially by the time the 30th had rolled around. Interestingly, thus far Ripper seemed to be oblivious to his presence, though Ethan did not expect that state of affairs to continue indefinitely.

(_)(_)(_)

October 13 - 21 Spike

Having the Dominga chit around both helped and made things worse for Spike. He'd gotten so used to having someone to look after that Dru's death had left a humungous hole in his unlife that not even wrangling with the Court could fill. Working with Dominga helped, because she was pretty clueless about the modern world and needed a lot of assistance. At the same time, she wasn't Dru, and her being around rubbed the fact that Dru was gone in Spike's face.

Fortunately, he'd been busy enough with the Court that nothing had really come of it one way or the other. He'd had his hands full keeping the minions under control and not feeding on the out-of-townies. He'd even had to dust two of the stupider and more stubborn minions. They'd kept trying to go after the folks he'd told them not to.

In better news, the training was starting to do some good finally. Spike had taken to giving all the minions a couple drops of his blood once a week. This was really only feasible because Spike's Court was so small - less than two dozen vampires all told. A couple drops of blood once a week wasn't anywhere near enough to bring them to Childe level, but it would, over the long term, increase their intelligence until it was much closer to their 'living' IQ, and push their strength and speed that little bit further above human norms as well, since the weakest of the minions were more or less human-normal in terms of strength and speed.

This week had begun Spike's first big long-term project after taking control of the Court. When he'd originally chased out all vamps that refused to swear loyalty to him, he'd left the suckhouses alone. They hadn't been being governed by any one vampire, not even the old Master or the Anointed One, and Spike had had enough to do just getting the Court set up and under control the way he liked. Some of the minions still used one of the suckhouses - something Spike was absolutely in favor of. After all, it reduced the number of dead bodies that the Slayer would feel duty-bound to avenge.

That said, while the concept of suckhouses was a damn good one, Sunnydale's execution of the idea left much to be desired. The buildings that had been used were in godawful shape, which meant that not many humans would go anywhere near them unless they were truly desperate. Nor were the humans that donated really being taken care of, which was dumb as hell.

The way Spike saw it, humans in suckhouses were basically milk cows. They were an investment - you had to take good care of them for the best results. You had to feed them well, treat them well, make sure they were healthy and happy and that the feeding process was as non-traumatic as possible. Do that, and the blood you got would be of better quality, and the human far more likely to come back without having to resort to 'hooking' them on being bitten.

Spike had already found a place he liked as the location for the 'new' suckhouse. He planned to 'dry out' the surviving 'donators', as every last one of them was hooked on being fed from. It wouldn't be a fun process for them, but it was necessary. Hooking them might make it easier to feed from them in the short term, but long-term it meant finding replacement donators far too often, as humans that got hooked would seek out being bitten again and again until they'd been drained dry if they weren't stopped. Most hooked humans lasted less than six months because of that. By contrast, a human that wasn't hooked could conceivably donate blood for decades.

He wasn't any too sure that the current donators would be viable as long-term donators - they might get hooked again - but drying them out and sending them on their way was a better option than killing them and bringing the Slayer down on the Court. He'd already begun to put out feelers for new donators at the college. Experience had taught him that college students were perpetually strapped for cash, and thus the easiest to lure in. They didn't have to know that the money they'd be getting in exchange for donating blood had been raided from the abandoned vampire hideouts around town by Spike's minions.

Once the suckhouse was fully up and running, Spike planned to take advantage of it fairly frequently himself. He didn't intend to give up hunting entirely - he enjoyed it too much for that. Even if he hated hunting, he needed to do it to keep in shape against the Slayer or some other Master Vampire coming after him. But the minions would be far more likely to use the suckhouse if they saw him using it. Not only that, but him stopping by unpredictably would keep any trouble to a minimum.

(_)(_)(_)

October 13 - 21 Sam Zabuto and Kendra

Sam Zabuto was somewhere between confusion and horror. It had become clear, thanks to Kendra's reports, that a Court was not only extant in Sunnydale, but thriving. Oh, the Watchers had known that there was a Court here, but it had not been worrisome as the old Master had been trapped and largely ineffective. The Court had been dependent on numerous low-ranked minions who were incapable of enforcing any kind of order and discipline for its functioning. That no longer seemed to be the case, which puzzled Sam as well as alarmed him.

Sam assumed that the Court had been taken over by an enterprising minion. Because of this, it did not occur to him that the new Master was part of the cause of the current drop-off in demon population/trouble-causing. Had he known the new Court Master was actually a Master rather than a minion with delusions of grandeur, he would have been far more willing to entertain the notion. As it stood, he dismissed the possibility out of hand.

What Sam could not figure out was how Giles could possibly permit the Court, no matter its level of organization and effectiveness, to continue to exist. Nor could he understand how Summers didn't go after the Court even without Giles' direction. It was so bad that Sam has actually stopped thinking of Summers as a Slayer, because Slayers just *didn't do that*. They didn't permit vampires and demons to exist in their presence. Especially not when the damn things had organized themselves.

There was clearly something wrong with Summers. According to Kendra's reports, she retained Slayer strength and speed. Sam was of the opinion that Summers' death, however temporary it may have been, had stripped some of the less tangible components of a Slayer from her. He'd originally thought it was just that she was one of the rare Slayers not to be raised by a Watcher, but it had become clear that the problem went deeper than that.

Kendra was properly horrified by Summers' intransigence and ineptitude. She was also rather put out at not being allowed to eliminate the Court herself. Unfortunately, Kendra doing so would alert at least Giles to the presence of, if not another Slayer, then a threat that needed to be neutralized. Well, it would have if Giles was a proper Watcher, at any rate. Despite Giles' apparent dereliction of his duty, it was unwise to risk garnering his attention as their primary remit was to observe and report. They could not gather unprejudiced data, nor observe without interference if Giles or Summers knew of their presence or were otherwise on their guard.

Kendra had also been rather put out at the fact that there was a minimum of demons to slay in Sunnydale at the moment, despite its reputation as a mecca for demons of all descriptions. It almost seemed as if some of the worst troublemakers had left for some reason. A certain amount of population fluctuation was to be expected in a place like this, especially when the local Court was in flux. This level, however, was unusual and inexplicable. It was enough to make Sam wonder if perhaps a stronger Vampire than he thought had taken control of the Court. But even the likes of Kakistok, one of the oldest and hardest-to-kill vampires in the country, didn't have this sort of effect on other demons, so Sam was still at a loss.

Chapter Text

Interlude: Good, Bad, and Ugly, Part 3

(_)(_)(_)

October 13 - 21 Location Unknown

If there was such a thing as a universal truth, it would be the saying 'power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. This saying had been proven true by a number of beings in the wider galaxy and by the Goa'uld race as a whole. Not to mention having been proven true by any of a number of human despots, dictators, and tyrants of all descriptions.

The men currently gathered around a wide oak table were not world leaders. Despite this, they were all men of considerable money, power, and influence. Unlike many other powerful men (and no few women) through history, they had chosen to wield that power in secret. Like the Watcher's Council, this choice did not make them any less dangerous than their better-known brethren. In fact it made them more dangerous because no one knew their names, their faces, their deeds. There was no one, not even the paparazzi, to bring their deeds to light and demand an accounting. They moved in the shadows, controlling and twisting events to their specifications and generally getting their noses in where they were neither wanted nor required.

They called themselves the Trust.

The Trust's interests were wide-spread and had far-reaching consequences. While the men at the table were not public figures of power, they counted amongst their operatives no less than ten leaders of second and third world governments and innumerable lesser government agents of varying descriptions, business moguls, and scientists of varying calibers. Through these persons, the Trust further had control of hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of persons who were under the control of Trust operatives but not themselves aligned with the Trust's purposes.

The last few years, an increasing amount of the Trust's time had been dedicated to trying to deal with the SGC in particular and the wider universe in general. Trying and, much to their frustration, largely failing. The failure was down to two things. The first problem was that none of their better operatives had been able to secure positions in the Mountain. Oh, they had operatives in place, but they were all lesser operatives, low in military rank, scientific prestige and/or security clearance and therefore kept ignorant of far too much to be of any real use. Most things the Trust found out from these operatives, they found out after the fact, when little to nothing could be done about the information.

The Trust had, of course, formed their own teams and gone on their own missions in secret, but this had not gone well, and that had largely to do with the second half of the SGC problem. The second problem was that Hammond, and *especially* O'Neill, were past masters at getting themselves out of jams, ignoring orders they didn't like, and otherwise making themselves pains in the ass. SG-1's record of finding out about and wrecking the plans the Trust tried to put into action spoke for itself.

The rumors of a young clone O'Neill that had sprung up a few months previously had gotten the Trust's attention. When those rumors had been confirmed, plans had been put together to attempt to kidnap the clone. What they would do with it from there they had not yet decided as there were several options. One option being trying to figure out how the cloning was done. Others advocated investigating O'Neill's genetics for a variety of purposes. Still others suggested re-training the clone and then using it to neutralize O'Neill in hopes the clone would have more luck than other Trust operatives. Retraining being the polite way of saying 'breaking and brainwashing'.

The Trust had been meticulous in their planning regarding acquisition of the clone. They had opted to treat the task as if they were attempting to acquire O'Neill himself, just to be on the safe side. The first task had been to separate the clone from its watchers. This had to be done slowly and carefully as O'Neill was keeping a loose eye out on the clone's welfare and anything too overt would garner O'Neill's attention. That was the last thing they wanted. Unfortunately, just as this objective had been accomplished and specially trained operatives prepared to move in and acquire the clone, a third party had shown up. SG-1 had been disconcertingly quick to arrive and meddle in the matter despite the Trust believing they had cut off that line of communication. The Trust had immediately withdrawn its operatives and begun investigating the third party. Interestingly, the third party had turned out to actually be a third and fourth party.

The identities of all involved had been cause for much speculation. What interest a Slayer and its Watcher could possibly have in a clone, they couldn't comprehend. Especially when said Slayer and Watcher traveled a considerable distance outside of their usual territory to acquire the clone. Even more interesting was the fact that this Watcher and Slayer seemed to have slipped the Council's chains.

Ellison's involvement had just made matters all the more interesting. Ellison was on the surface just another military grunt and thus of little to no interest to the Trust. That he had been judged as being uniquely unsuited to recruitment to the Trust's cause had made him of even less interest. He would never even have entered their collective awareness as an individual if it hadn't been for two rather interesting facts.

One, he survived the destruction of his unit, an action which had been authorized by the Trust in an effort to continue to destabilize the region the unit had been sent in to police. Worse, he had gone on to carry out the policing his unit had been sent to do, resulting in the region stabilizing. This had resulted in him being marked as completely unsuited to recruitment to the Trust.

Second, there had been more than one anomaly as regarded Ellison since his return from Peru. Rumors had reached the Trust. Nothing they were willing to put any amount of belief into without confirmation from a trusted operative, but that were consistent enough to pique their interest. Ellison had been put under a fairly relaxed and benign observation until such time as something of interest and/or use had been discovered. There had been several incidents since then, but each one could be explained by superior detective skills, sheer stubbornness, or other completely normal factors.

Now, the three groups had united. The reason for the union escaped the Trust. At first blush, there was nothing to connect the three groups. Interest in the situation had only increased when the clone had been removed to Cascade for a time with the evident permission and assistance of SG-1. Ellison had been reported as having the clone, the Watcher, the Slayer and several other individuals of no particular initial interest or note in his home.

The lack of interest in the peripheral individuals had altered swiftly when it was discovered that all and sundry were being taught by Ellison and the clone. Better, some of the less sensational rumors regarding Ellison seemed to be true. Better even than that, it seemed the clone had developed an abnormality similar to Ellison's, as Ellison and his roommate had been seen instructing the clone on more than one occasion. The clone, Watcher, Slayer, and the rest of that group then moved to Sunnydale. Ellison had been reported as having made two trips to Sunnydale since the group's move.

Investigations into the peripheral individuals bore no truly interesting fruit. Sandburg generated some small shred of interest due to his intelligence, but he was the only one. The two children were completely unremarkable in all respects. The third child that joined the group once it returned to Sunnydale was actually of more interest than the first two. Her father had been marked as a potential recruit for the Trust, as he had proven himself to be of sufficiently flexible morals and fiscal acumen to potentially be of use. There was some interest in discovering if the daughter was of a similarly useful stripe.

The Trust had discussed these developments in earnest, and had eventually decided to attempt to acquire the clone from Sunnydale. The town's unique environment would assist them in this matter, as deaths and disappearances were a nightly event. It had also been decided to, as the saying went, kill two birds with one stone.

The Trust had long wished to acquire a Slayer. They now knew that there were two - how that had happened they neither knew nor cared. They were, though, disturbed that their Council operative had known about the second Slayer, but not that the other Slayer and Watcher had slipped the Council's control. Either that or they had known but not reported the matter. Either way, the operative was going to be reprimanded. The Trust had also long wanted to study the myriad of demons they knew to exist. They were now in a position to be able to do all three things in one fell swoop.

They had begun to redeploy some of their operatives, and the personnel under the control of those operatives. Certain of their scientists, and a number of their military operatives had been reassigned on paper to remote postings. The personnel were then diverted to a Trust-controlled base. Once there, they were debriefed as to their actual assignments, and any problematic subordinates were quietly disposed of. Fortunately there had only been one or two problematic subordinates, all in the military units, as the memberships of those units was not as easy to control as the scientists' groupings were.

One of the Trust's construction concerns had acquired a disused college dorm on the Sunndale University campus. Renovation of the interior had begun immediately. The college, and the town in general, were under the mistaken belief that a new fraternity had moved into town in the wake of the recent disbanding of a previously established fraternity.

Construction of the sub-surface labs and holding facilities had also already begun, though that task was going far slower than the renovation of the dorm itself. They had to be careful and slow in the disposal of the earth excavated, and had to sneak in the equipment and supplies needed to build in the spaces that were being dug out. Garnering too much attention would blow the entire operation, and having the sort of equipment and supplies a sub-surface base required in order to be built just laying around for all to see would have gotten them entirely too much attention.

Once they were in place, the team's main remit would be observation and capture of as many of the nightlife of Sunnydale as possible. Once acquired, various experiments would be conducted by the scientists depending on the creature involved. Their secondary remit was to observe and acquire one of the Slayers and the clone. That task was going to be rather more difficult than acquiring various demons. The Slayer, whichever was captured, would have to be entirely alone before being captured. Easier to do for the one Slayer with a normal Watcher, but the Trust was hoping to capture the atypical Slayer. The clone would by far be the most problematic to acquire, as it never seemed to go anywhere alone. Still, the attempt was to be made.

Today's meeting was taking place to peruse the progress of the project, and to discuss the latest news from the SGC, since the two things were tangentially related.

"O'Neill and the others have been seen in close conversation far more than the norm of late." One man said. "This is either them discussing the clone and its new situation, or them coming up with some new way to drive us all to drink."

"I still say we should eliminate him." Another man said.

That got a snort. "It's been tried." A third man reminded. "And failed spectacularly. O'Neill is a canny bastard." And while none of them would ever say it, the more practical-minded of the lot would admit that O'Neill was beyond their reach.

"What if we arrange for his promotion? No one would countenance a General of any rank on field maneuvers." Someone else offered.

"We would then run the risk of him stepping into Hammond's shoes." Was the rejoinder.

"Not if he was recommended for the Homeworld Security post. He would then be almost completely isolated from the SGC, within our reach and influenceable by any of a number of means."

That gave everyone in the room pause. "It just might work." Someone said. "But I recommend that we study the situation more fully, and develop all possible scenarios so we have plans to deal with them if the decision is made to go through with the idea."

There was general agreement around the table.

From there, the discussion moved to general SGC matters, and attempts to circumvent or take advantage of various situations. Especially now that the Goa'uld were on the run. The bulk of the high-ranked Goa'uld were projected to be dead or their power bases broken within the next few years, at the rate the SGC was going. The resultant destabilization of the entire galaxy was something the Trust could potentially take advantage of in numerous ways, so they were not inclined to attempt to stop the SGC when it came to that particular mission. Other matter of concern, however, did need to be dealt with, and various plans were put together in order to do so.

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 1

(_)(_)(_)

October 22 - 31 Ethan's Shop

Ethan was quite pleased with the number of costumes he'd sold thus far. Even if he didn't sell the rest, the dozens he'd sold in the first week would be enough of an offering to Janus, if only barely. But Ethan knew he'd be selling costumes right up until Trick or Treating started on All Hallow's Eve. With any luck, he'd have fully half the town's children caught in the web of the spell, and some quarter or so of the adults, since he did have adult-sized costumes.

The little bell over the shop door jangled, and Ethan looked up from the book he'd been reading between customers. When he saw the teens that piled into his shop, he was very hard put to keep from smiling. Ahhh, wonderful. The Slayer and her friends. This would make things quite interesting.

Not least because the girl had friends at all. That was not, Ethan knew, the normal way of things. Nor were Slayers usually permitted such frivolities as going trick or treating. It would seem that not all of Ripper had been subsumed by the starched, proper Watcher he had become. So much the better. Though he had to admit that too much of Ripper had been subsumed. Thus far, Ripper hadn't realized that Ethan was in town, a mistake he'd never have made prior to becoming a Watcher. Ethan wondered if he'd get a visit after today, now that the Slayer had been here.

The two teenage boys in the group made a beeline for the military costumes and began sorting through them for something in their sizes. The Slayer and her female friend seemed to have less of an idea as to what sort of costume they wanted, and settled in to browse through the possibilities.

"Ohhhh, look at this dress!" The Slayer fairly cooed, holding up a fairly accurate replica of an 18th century dress. She flattened it to her front and twirled around with it. "It's gorgeous." Then she sighed. "And really, really, really not viable."

The other girl nodded. "It's too bad, really."

The Slayer hung the dress back up and the two girls moved on. A few racks down the line, the Slayer spotted a cheerleader's outfit. "Now that's familiar." She said. "And something I can definitely move in, if you know what I mean." She grinned at her friend. "Hopefully it's the right size." She checked the collar. "Yep! Ok, I've got mine. Now we just have to find something for you, Willow."

The other girl, Willow apparently, looked slightly uncomfortable. "I really don't know." She said. "I usually just throw a sheet over myself and go as a ghost."

"Well, that's not happening this year. C'mon, we'll find you something." The Slayer said.

Willow seemed reluctant still, but did follow along. The two boys got involved in the search as well, as it had taken them only a couple minutes to find soldier costumes in their sizes.

"Hey, Willow. Check this out." One of the two boys, the one with darker hair, called, holding up a costume with a lot of black and small amounts of silver. "Goth outfit. Complete with black combat boots. We can get some makeup to complete the look."

He was grinning a bit toothily. Probably, Ethan assumed, at the joke of someone dressing as a goth in Sunnydale. Dressing as a member of a culture known to have interest in the ghoulish parts of life in a town chock full of actual vampires, other creatures of the night and sundry ghoulishness did have a certain amusement factor.

Willow took the outfit from the boy and looked it over. It consisted of a short-sleeved black blouse, a pleated black skirt, a wide black belt with a silver buckle, fishnet stockings and the combat boots the boy had commented on.

"I suppose." Willow said. "It is fairly practical, so it won't slow me down. And it's not all ... " She waved a hand. "Weird, you know? Or showing stuff I don't want anyone oogling." Then she grinned at the dark-haired boy. "And, well. Goth. Here. This is probably the only time I'd ever be able to get away with this sort of outfit and not get the willies."

"Too true." The dark-haired boy agreed. "Well, that's us settled. Let's get this paid for and get out of here."

Ethan smiled as the four teens approached the till. "Find everything you need?" He asked genially as he accepted the cheerleader costume from the Slayer.

"Yep. You have a lot of pretty cool stuff." The dark haired boy said.

"I do try." Ethan said. He made short work of ringing them up, and then watched them file out of the store.

(_)(_)(_)

Even though the dorm renovations weren't complete, the first of the soldiers who would be involved in the Trust's investigation in Sunnydale arrived about a week before Halloween. This was partially due to the plan for them to infiltrate the town as college students. If they'd come in much later in the year, it would have caused entirely too much comment. Fortunately, colleges did not hold as stringently to the 'September through June' timeline as did regular schools. Many had classes that started and ended at comparatively odd times. Because of that, some guys showing up two months into the 'school year' wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. The rest would be sent in on the first week of January.

Sergeant Riley Finn was one of the early arrivers, along with Sergeant Graham Miller, Sergeant Forrest Gates and two others he wasn't familiar with from a different service. With them came Dr. Walsh and a bevy of lesser scientists and gofers who would be supervising the construction of the laboratory levels and beginning the task of cataloguing the hostiles the military contingent would be tracking and observing. Riley would be liaising with both Dr. Walsh and the construction team to ensure sufficient security protocols were put in place on the containment level that was being dug out below the laboratory level.

It was ... very difficult for Riley to credit the mission they were carrying out. Non human hostiles that weren't the familiar range of predators and the occasional dangerous herbivores? Worse, apparently, one of the hostiles was supposedly a vampire. It was very difficult to credit, and Riley couldn't help but wonder if whatever general had green-lighted this mission hadn't slipped a little too far into insanity for comfort.

Still, at least for the moment, he didn't have to worry about that. Their first job was to establish their undercover identities as college students. Riley was quite pleased that he and his fellow soldiers would actually be receiving credits for attending classes. It meant that not only would attending classes not be a giant waste of time, but he would be able to further his career while completing this mission, since they were projected to stay in Sunnydale essentially indefinitely.

The college campus was surprisingly large, given its location in a fairly small town. It was bordered on one side by the highway, and on another by a fairly extensive wooded area that would be convenient for snipe-hunting and training both.

It felt odd, dragging more than a duffel or two's worth of belongings around. But in order to sell that he was a college student, he had to be seen bringing in the sort of equipment college students deemed necessary. He was even going to have to set it up in his room and hide his military gear, just in case someone peeked in a window. That meant a lot of clothes other than his uniforms and camo gear, a laptop, stereo, and innumerable other bits and bobs. Graham and Forrest were similarly burdened. Thankfully, the three of them had been friends since shortly after they'd signed up for the Army. Their natural tendency to heckle each other and get in each others' space made their cover that much more authentic.

They laughed and joked as they toted boxes back and forth from the ratty old truck they'd arrived in. Forrest even flirted with a couple girls they crossed paths with on the campus.

They were paired up two to a room - though Forrest's roommate wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow. Once they'd gotten their rooms set up, they made their way down to the laboratory level. Despite the slow speed the construction crew had been forced to move at in order to conceal their work, the laboratory control room and two labs had been completed. Similarly, two cells had been completed on the containment level, allowing them to capture at least two subjects right away if so ordered.

Provided this wasn't all a snipe-hunt, that was. Riley still wasn't entirely convinced. Oh, they'd been shown footage, but really now. Anyone with access to halfway decent makeup and an editing program could pull off the sorts of things that had been in the footage. Riley would believe it when he saw it face-to-face, and not a moment sooner. That said, he wasn't going to go off half-cocked and under-prepared just because he thought it was a bunch of nonsense. He'd make very sure he was sufficiently armed when he went out patrolling tonight.

Fortunately for Riley's sense of composure, Dr. Walsh informed them they would not be expected to capture any hostiles this early in the mission. That, she informed them, would wait at least a month, when the laboratory and containment levels were much closer to being complete. They were, however, encouraged to gather any unusual materiel they might encounter on their patrol that the hostiles left behind, and were supplied with containers in which to gather such materiel.

The five of them headed out immediately after Dr. Walsh's brief, to familiarize themselves with the town during daylight hours. Fortunately, they'd be able to wander about largely unremarked during the day thanks to their cover identities. The residential areas would be the most tricky to infiltrate without raising any alarms, but they'd manage.

They returned to base early enough to eat dinner and catch catnaps before their first night's patrol.

(_)(_)(_)

It was a rather shell-shocked Riley that flopped down on his bunk just before dawn. So. The general, or whoever it was that had authorized this mission hadn't been insane or on drugs after all. Non human hostiles were very, very real. Including vampires. Part of Riley's brain was gibbering in horror at this discovery. The rest of him was sorting through what he'd seen last night, ferreting out usable information and starting to come up with equipment lists, patrol schemes, and other plans. After a few minutes of that, he sat up, grabbed a notebook and pen, and started writing. He'd need much of this for the report he'd be submitting later anyway, so he might as well get it all jotted down while it was fresh. Across the room, Graham, who was as shocked as Riley was, was sitting on his bed with his hands between his knees. When he saw Riley grab the writing materials, he gave his head a shake and gathered his own writing gear.

"Right. Need to write this shit down. We're going to have some *work* cut out for us if we're going to detain any of these hostiles without getting killed in the process." Graham said.

"No kidding." Riley agreed with a sigh. "They're going to need to increase the security measures on both levels. Especially the containment level. I do not want to think about what would happen if some of those things we saw last night got loose in the labs."

Graham shuddered. "Yeah, no, that would be really bad. We're going to need to requisition some better weaponry, too. I don't fancy going up against some of those things with just a P-90." Then he made a face. "Riley? You reckon we should ask for garlic and silver bullets, crosses and holy water?"

Riley made a face. "They're going to think we're crazy, but we'd better. We can test them long-range. Requisition a grenade launcher and empty shells. That way, if they don't do anything, nobody's close enough to get ... " He made another face. "Bit. Or worse."

"Right, right, good idea." Graham agreed. "And we're bound to need to test other materials on these things later, so having the launcher and shells on hand is a good idea. We'll just have to be careful about when and where we deploy it. Stick to the docks and the warehouses if we possibly can, or the woods by the cliffs on the far side of town. Maybe figure out a way to herd the hostiles to those places for testing."

"Better binocs, and night vision equipment." Riley added to their wish-list. "I'll bet some or all of these things have better senses than humans do. Most animals beat us out on one sense or another, if not several. These things are probably no different. So the further away we are, the safer we are."

"And nobody but *nobody* goes out solo. Not even during the day. Because I refuse to believe that every single hostile sleeps during the day." Graham added.

"Agreed." Riley said with a nod. "And at least two of us escorting the doctor and the other science geeks per person whenever they leave the building."

"Stronger restraint equipment." Graham suggested. "I don't fancy our chances of keeping these things in a standard pair of police cuffs." He sighed. "Never mind other 'standard' restraints. And we're going to need specialized nets and other gear to catch some of them, 'cause like hell am I touching the ones that looked like they had goo on their skins."

"Good idea." Riley agreed. They both got busy writing the things they'd mentioned aloud down, then looked at each other, trying to think of anything they might have missed in the first round. "Scanners." He said after a moment. "To check folks when they come in, make sure they're not hosting a nasty that can crawl inside 'em." They both shuddered at that idea, but were realist enough to know it was a possibility. "We can put 'em around the doors into the dorm, make 'em look like anti-theft measures, and stick the 'security booth' in one of the rooms."

"And if the holy water thing works - especially if it works on more than one kind of hostile - we can figure out a way to convert the sprinkler system to use only holy water. Maybe holy water laced with ... well, anything water-soluble that hurts other hostiles. Use it as a security measure in case something escapes the labs, or tries to break into the dorms from the campus." Graham said.

Riley nodded. "That one'll have to wait until we find out if holy water works at all." He said. "But it's definitely something to keep in mind." They finished writing things down, then both of them got to their feet. "Right." Riley said. "Time to go talk to the doctor, see if we can get her to agree to any of this."

They headed down to the labs. Dr. Walsh was waiting for them, looking faintly amused.

"And how did the evening's patrol go, gentlemen?" She asked.

"It was ... illuminating." Riley admitted.

Dr, Walsh smiled. "In that you have come to realize your superiors weren't insane after all?" She asked. "Though I must say I don't blame you for thinking that without having encountered a hostile."

Riley grinned. "Well, we did see a few different hostiles last night. Graham and I have come up with a few things - things we'd like to suggest to you, and if you agree, requisition the supplies yet today."

Dr. Walsh motioned to a small table nearby. "By all means, gentlemen. Let's hear it."

Riley took a seat across from her and gave her the rundown on the stuff they wanted to requisition. Dr. Walsh listened patiently. When Riley wound down, she sat forward a bit.

"Well, on the security measures, I will give you gentlemen full reign. You are far better equipped to make such decisions than myself or my associates. We want to investigate these hostiles as safely as possible. I have no problem with you requisitioning any of the non lethal equipment you have suggested for patrols, either. My only hesitation is on the lethal weapons. I recognize that you and your men must protect yourselves, but our early reports suggest that many of these hostiles disintegrate when killed, so I would ask that you use lethal methods only as a last resort, since we can't learn anything if we don't have something to poke at."

"They do?" Riley asked, then sighed. "I suppose that makes sense. If they left bodies behind, someone would have noticed these hostiles a *lot* sooner than this. Yeah, we can keep the bullets and explosives as last resorts."

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 2

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Ethan's Shop

Ethan closed the shop an hour before the trick or treating was due to start. He knew he'd probably miss one or two very last minute costume shoppers, but it couldn't be helped. He needed the time to prepare. Half of the hour would be given over to a few simple tricks to slow down anyone who might attempt to stop the spell, and his offering to Janus.

Ethan first placed all of the failed attempts at totems around the shop and the back room. One or two were visibly malformed, but most of them had been failures for less obvious reasons, which would make it harder to discern the real totem from the fakes visually. Ethan had, early on in the planning for this caper, placed harmless runes on each of the failures so that they radiated just enough magic to seem like they might be the control totem. He'd been aware he'd need ways to stall or stop attempts to break the spell even at that early stage and had done what he could to prepare beforehand.

Some of the statues he placed in plain sight. One of the totems that, while a failure, had turned out better than the others even sat in an apparently proper altar at in the back room of the shop. The second - best failure he'd locked into the shops' small safe, a place that would seem 'best' to hide such a thing. The others he hid carefully around the shop and back room. The true control totem was tucked under a floorboard - that Ethan had then re-secured so it did not give itself away - under the floor mat just inside the shop door.

This setup would significantly slow down anyone other than Ripper who attempted to interfere. Most people wouldn't know enough about magic in general, never mind chaos magic, to know how to stop the spell in the first place, never mind being able to tell a real control totem from a fake. But that wasn't the only thing Ethan did to protect the totem. Largely because he knew he did have to take Ripper into account.

Sadly Ripper knew enough about chaos magic that he'd find the true control totem really fast if Ethan just hid it and left it at that. That is, if Ripper bothered to listen to the part of him that was Ripper, and not the proper, starched Watcher. Not that Ripper was all that proper and starched, Ethan was willing to admit. Which made the chances of him finding the totem a lot higher.

Unfortunately, there was nothing Ethan could do to prevent Ripper from ending the spell if he stormed the castle, as it were. The totem had to be within a certain distance of himself, as he was the one making the offering to Janus. He could, however, slow him down. So Ethan wove several additional spells into the shop to make things difficult for Ripper.

The first one disorientated anyone entering the shop, putting their sense of balance and direction on an uneven keel. The second muddled their thoughts, making it difficult to remember what they'd come here for or concentrate. The third was an illusion spell that would distort the true dimensions of the shop, and as a beneficial side effect, further confuse an invader's sense of balance and direction. The fourth was a spell to impregnate the whole shop with a magical aura, which would make it difficult to pinpoint the magical auras of the spells Ethan had cast and the location and magical aura of the totems. That would make breaking the security spells and finding the right totem just that much more difficult.

Once his preparations were finished, Ethan waited, keeping an eye out the door for trick or treaters. He'd start the spell about fifteen or twenty minutes after the official beginning of the trick-or-treat hours, to ensure that as many people were in costume as possible.

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Sunnydale High

Jon was not overly thrilled with the whole having to wear a costume thing for Halloween. It had been a very, very, very long time since he'd done such a thing. Despite the fact he was in a kid's body, he just couldn't get into the spirit of the thing anymore at this late date.

It really didn't help that this time of year (and Christmas, and ... oh, who the hell was he kidding? Every. Fucking. Day.) brought bittersweet memories of Charlie to the surface. His grief over Charlie's death was no longer as devastating as it had once been - time, if nothing else, had seen to that. Still, he got sucker-punched from time to time, and there were days and dates when the grief was worse regardless.

He hadn't told any of them about Charlie, not yet. Well, not by name, and not specifics at any rate. He had talked to Willow and Xander about dealing with losing someone close to them to a violent, unexpected death. So they knew he'd lost *someone* like that, but he hadn't given specifics. More because the discussion had been about them and *their* grief and pain over the death of their friend Jamie, not about him and his grief over Charlie. Which, it would have become about Charlie at least a bit because Jon still couldn't say his son's name without his voice cracking, never mind actually talking about how he'd died.

He suspected they'd figured it out, though. Combine what he'd told them during the summer with his being a bit more tetchy than normal the last few days and the fact that neither Willow nor Xander were stupid, and they had very probably pieced it together. Them figuring it out explained the really bad attempt at unobtrusive hovering Xander was doing. Willow was a bit more successful at it, but not by much.

Either way, Jon had been in no mood to dress up. He could probably have gone for something other than fatigues as a costume and not felt ridiculous, but his heart hadn't been in it. So fatigues it had been. Xander had happily joined him.

Because the trick-or-treating would last past sundown - a fact that had pissed Jon off massively - they were all packing at least one weapon. Jon didn't want to know where Buffy was hiding hers, given that her cheerleader costume didn't really have much in the way of room to hide things. Willow was better off than Buffy - her outfit provided quite a few places to hide things. Jon and Xander, thanks to their costumes, would be carrying entire arsenals. Not only did they have the room to hide things, but 'soldiers' openly carrying 'weapons' wouldn't raise eyebrows.

The one thing that Jon really hated about this whole mess was that the four of them would be separated. He wasn't worried about Buffy - she could handle herself. But Willow being on her own concerned him. She was the least capable of defending herself of the three teens. Being forced to let Xander walk Sunnydale after dark alone made Jon's hackles rise and had him clenching his jaw until his teeth started grinding. It felt wrong on a fundamental level, and Jon had a feeling he would be having his group of kidlets tailing Xander's group if at all humanly possible.

Eventually, they were all dressed and ready, and they headed over to the high school. The gym, when they arrived about an hour before the start of the trick-or-treating, was a madhouse, as was the parking lot. There were kids *everywhere*, from barely ambulatory toddlers to high school seniors. The parking lot was mostly full of adults who had agreed to drive groups to different areas of Sunnydale, so that the trick-or-treating got spread out. Snyder and several other teachers from the high school were attempting to keep things calm and organized without much success.

"This is nuts!" Xander called, raising his voice in order for Willow and Buffy to hear him over the bedlam. "How they think they're going to get this organized, I don't know."

"Agreed." Buffy said, eyeballing the mass of kids. "This is going to end in tears."

Surprisingly, about a half hour later, Snyder and the teachers did in fact manage to get things somewhat calmed down. At least enough to find the chosen escorts and give them each a list. The list had names on it, of the kids who'd be in their group.

Once Jon had his list, he walked over to the bleachers and climbed halfway up them. From there, he gave a piercing whistle that, if it didn't shut everyone up, got them to quiet down a bit.

"Ok - if I call your name, come up here by me!" He yelled, then started reading off names.

That got everyone else started, and one by one the escorts found a corner to park themselves in and started reading off names. Within five minutes the crowd in the gym had been divided into their groups.

"Right." Jon said once he had all of his group. "Everybody got something to put their loot in?" He wanted to know.

He got a ragged chorus of agreement, and more than a few of the kids - his group was all in the six - to - eight range, waved pillowcases at him.

"Excellent. Now, for the rules." Jon grinned at the whines. "Don't worry, there aren't a lot of them. Rule one - stay with the group at all times. Rule two - the group does not stray more than two houses away from me at any time. Rule three - no stealing anyone's candy. Rule four - no destroying property. And that's it. Not that bad or that hard."

And the kids actually seemed to agree, though some of the older ones seemed less than thrilled about having to stick with the group and stick close. Fortunately his group was young enough to not do more than whine about such a restriction. Some of the older kids would doubtlessly try to bolt if their escort laid down such a rule.

His group in hand, and with a bit to go before the trick or treating started, Jon glanced around. Buffy was at the far end of the gym, surrounded by a group of preteens. Willow and her group, comprised of four and five year olds, were only a few feet away from Buffy. Xander, who had another group of six to eight year old kids, was closest to Jon, and grinned at Jon when they caught each other's eye.

Willow got her group moving towards the door, evidently wanting to take her group further from the high school than they could comfortably walk. Buffy headed out with her group a minute later, as did a couple of the other escorts and their groups.

That left four groups who'd be casing the area closest to the high school. Jon, Xander, and the other two escorts got together to agree on who would start where, and where they'd go. That was more so they'd know who a stray kid belonged to if they ran across one than for any other reason.

Jon got his own group moving, as he planned to start near where the beach, cliff, and woods converged and the apartment buildings there, and work his way back towards the high school. If all went well, they'd about get back to the school right about as the trick or treating hours ended. Xander planned to swing past the Pine Grove cemetery, past Buffy's place and up towards Giles' house, then back around towards the high school, so they'd be fairly close to each other. That helped with Jon's unease at being so far from Xander for so long. The other two escorts that were sticking close to the high school had their preferred routes worked out too.

Jon had decided on the apartment buildings because they provided a certain amount of cover and security from attack. While there might be demons in one or more of the apartments, he'd be able to steer the kids clear of those doors hopefully, and the fact that there would be human residents all around would lower the chances of anything bad happening. Or so he hoped.

The kids were, of course, all in high spirits and more than a little hyper, looking forward to all the candy they'd score tonight. There was more than a little bouncing, yelling, running and laughing going on, but as long as they stayed close, Jon let them get it out of their systems.

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Ethan's Shop

Ethan glanced at the clock and smiled. It was time.

He got to his feet, then knelt to one side of the shop's front door where the real totem was hidden. He put one hand directly over the totem and began a brief chant/prayer to Janus, alerting Him that the event was about to begin, and an offering to him.

Once the prayer was done, Ethan gathered his magic to him and focused it on the totem under his hand. He then began the incantation that would trigger the spells on the costumes now wandering Sunnydale. As soon as the final syllable was out of his mouth, an enormous wave of magic rolled over the town.

Seconds later, the screaming began.

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 3

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Willow

When the spell hit, Willow was, perhaps, the most fortunate in the alterations that occurred. Goths, after all, are not truly all that different from any other random person, so not all that much changed for Willow. Save, unfortunately, for a lack of awareness as to what the heck had just happened, or that anything was, in fact, wrong. At least until she noticed the several ... not-humans running around.

Unfortunately for Willow, several of the tykes in her group had been dressed as various monsters, their costumes supplied by Ethan. They no longer looked human, nor did they act it. Willow, with no memory of her recent training in how to fight and survive in Sunnydale, nor of what she'd been doing prior to the spell's activation, reacted rather understandably. To whit, she screamed and ran. Two of the 'monsters' took off after her, while the remaining two went after their fellow children, scattering them to the four winds.

Willow didn't stop running until she lost the 'monsters' about two blocks down the road. Not because she outran them, but because they got sidetracked by other potential mayhem and quit chasing her. At that point, Willow glanced around and frowned.

"Where's Xander?" She asked thin air. Then, more worriedly. "Where's Xander? I have to find him. He'll get hurt." Then she grimaced. "Or I will. Better try to keep an eye out."

It was perhaps a great mercy that Jesse wasn't brought to mind for whatever reason.

Willow headed instinctively towards Xander's house. Meaning where Tony and Jessica lived. She decided to check there just in case, then start trying to find Xander if he wasn't at home.

First, though, she had to figure out where she was. Fortunately, that didn't take long, as she spotted the familiar bulk of Sunnydale University just on the other side of the block she was on. That told her she was pretty close to Xander's place, since he didn't live all that far from the university. Reoriented and with a plan in mind, Willow immediately headed south.

Sadly, the route to Xander's wasn't smooth sailing. Willow ran into several packs of 'monsters' on the way, and had to run from them. At one point, she'd been forced up a tree for lack of anywhere else to go out of their reach before they got distracted and ran off. This of course resulted in more than a little backtracking as she was forced from her intended route.

All the lights were out at Xander's house when she finally reached it. That meant Xander wasn't there. If he had been home, the lights would have been on somewhere in the house. His room at the very least. But there was nothing. Now what? Xander could be anywhere! Willow lurked outside Xander's house for a bit, trying to decide where to start looking.

After several moments of debate, Willow decided to try the Bronze, then the high school. If Xander wasn't in either place, Willow would figure out what to do at that point. Staying at the school or going to her own home would probably be the best bets, as Xander would look for her in those places.

Oh. Crap. Maybe Xander was already at her place? Willow immediately turned and headed for her own home. It was worth a look.

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Jack

Jack did more than a little cursing when, between one step and the next, he went from his Air Force barracks to ... Where the hell WAS he? Hell if he knew.

He started moving on automatic, years of soldier instinct driving him to a place where he had solid brick at his back and a good line of sight on anything that approached his position. Once he was as secure as he could manage, he patted himself down to check both his condition and what tools he had on hand. He was relieved to find himself both unharmed and armed. He was very confused at the type of weapons he had on his person however. The KA-Bar was to be expected. The small crossbow and accompanying arrows? Not so much. Ditto the several other knives and daggers he was sporting, all of them looking far too delicate to be military gear. No gun of any description. No grenades, even. Nor did he have about ninety percent of the things that he generally packed in the pockets of his camo gear. Interestingly, he did have some basic first aid items.

What. The. Hell.

That assessment taken care of, Jack quickly assessed his surroundings. Some town somewhere, or maybe a suburb, it was hard to tell. The street corner, about thirty feet to his left, provided him with a street sign in English. That narrowed his choices down as to where he was at to ... well, somewhere in an English speaking country. So not all that helpful.

More worrying were the ... things ... running around. Various sizes and descriptions, but none of them friendly, and quite a few of them were working together to harass a bunch of kids in costumes.

Wait, Halloween costumes? That couldn't be right. It'd been mid-May just an hour ago. Shit. What the fuck was going on?

Ah, to hell with it. There were kids in trouble. He might not know what the hell was going on with how he got here, or much of anything else, but he could do something about kids in danger. Once he got that squared away, he could try to figure out what the hell was going on.

He debated his options, but quickly decided that just grabbing kids would probably work best. Panicking kids weren't likely to obey if he called for them to do something.

He managed to secure three kids, dragging them to a covered porch on the apartment building he'd been plunked down in front of when he'd arrived (however the fuck that happened). In two of the three cases, he'd had to kick attacking ... well, monsters, he supposed, away from the kids. Surprisingly, the monsters had gone away willingly enough, evidently not willing to face off with someone who wasn't an easy target.

The fourth rescue ... well, that one shook Jack. Because one of the odd sorts he passed - one who was, for a miracle, not attacking anyone - looked disturbingly familiar. Bright yellow skin, red shirt, blue shorts, blue shoes. In other words ... Bart Simpson.

Seriously. What the FUCK was going on around here?

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Buffy

Buffy did more than a little screaming.

For one - not home anymore. Not anywhere in Hemery, come to that. At least, not anywhere she recognizes, and she knew Hemery pretty well. For two, there were monsters all over the place and one of them had started trying to gnaw on her ankle. She kicked it off with a shriek, then scrambled away from the rest of the 'monsters'.

Unfortunately, Buffy was not going to be as lucky as Willow and Jack. Ethan's spells might have changed some things, but they couldn't change the fact that Buffy was a Slayer, and that as such, she tended to attract demonic attention. REAL demonic attention.

While most demons kept to their lairs on Halloween, others did not, relishing the chance to walk in the open without truly being 'noticed'. Two fairly young vampires, some of the last surviving minions from before Spike's takeover of Sunnydale, were among those having a bit of fun in the open. One of the pair spotted Buffy, and the hunt was on.

Buffy might not have been able to remember that she was a Slayer at the moment, but like a pretty good percentage of people, she was instinctively aware of being in danger. Whether that was just natural tendency, being wigged out and hyper alert thanks to having been dropped here by means she didn't know, or some of the Slayer in her escaping from under Ethan's spells would be a matter for much debate. Whatever the cause, Buffy started to move away from the (apparent) too-pale teenagers that were coming down the street.

They started moving faster. So did she. Unfortunately, they seemed to be faster than she was, and caught up with her.

Lucky for her, they might have been minions, but they weren't criminally stupid. That they had survived Spike's purge was testament to that much. They were bright enough to realize that a pair of minions didn't have much of a chance against a Slayer, even if she wasn't acting Slayer-ish at the moment. So they circled her, careful to keep her between them and stay out of easy grappling range, and taunted her.

"Well lookiee what we got here, Stu." One said to the other. "We got us a tasty little bird."

"Yep." Stu agreed. "Right tasty indeed." Stu flashed into game face, which made Buffy shriek in alarm and almost stumble into his compatriot as she backed away from Stu. Stu blinked at her, then gave his compatriot a delighted, fang-filled grin. "I do believe we got us quite a catch here, Ed. Don't think she know's what's what."

"I think you're right." Ed said, eyeballing Buffy. He'd backpedaled hurriedly when she'd stumbled towards him, wary of a trick. It was beginning to look like that wasn't the case. It didn't look like the Slayer remembered what she was. Or what they were. Master Spike would ... oh. Master Spike. "Stu ... reckon we should bring her to Master Spike. You know he's wanted a go at her."

Stu frowned down at Buffy rebelliously. "Why? We found her. She's rightfully ours. Master Spike wanted her, he should've got to her first."

"Good point." Ed said, then lunged at Buffy.

Unfortunately for him, while Buffy didn't remember being a Slayer, she still retained Slayer strength and abilities. A wild, instinctive swing at Ed sent him flying backwards and left an opening that Buffy could take advantage of.

She ran.

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Xander

Xander's alterations were the most extreme. He was not reverting to an earlier version of himself, or a mildly altered version of himself. The 'soldier' came out of nothing, so in the end, there was very little of Xander in the soldier that found himself on the streets of Sunnydale.

His initial reaction to his displacement was very similar to Jack's - namely, get himself somewhere relatively safe-ish, then check his gear and himself before attempting to figure out where the hell he was and what the hell was going on. That done, he too tried to decide what the hell to do next.

The most obvious answer was find someone who might know what the hell had happened. So, ignoring the chaos around him, he started out. He was on what looked like a fairly major road, which helped. At least he wouldn't have to find his way out of tangled back streets or worse, unmarked bush of some variety.

By chance, he ended up heading east, and eventually came to a major crossroad ... across from which was a school. Better yet, the school gave him what he was betting was the town's name - Sunnydale. Not that he could do anything with the information at the moment - not when he had no way to contact his superiors, but it was a start. And where there was a school, there might be computers. And where there were computers, there would be information.

So, now he had a plan. Get into the school and find either a computer or better yet the Principal's Office - his chances of finding a computer there were pretty high, and he'd also find other sources of information in such a place.

Weirdly, despite it being after dark and there not being more than one or two cars in the lot, the school's doors were unlocked. Xander shrugged and started to make his way through the building. He didn't get very far before he was confronted by a short, balding man who was quite frankly puffed up with his own importance.

"Harris! What the hell are you doing back here? I'll see you expelled for this! You're supposed to be out tailing the brats while they get their candy!"

Xander regarded the man with blank incomprehension. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about sir. I assure you I have better things to be doing than escorting kids on candy runs. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to arrange to get back to my unit." And Xander brushed past the man.

"Harris, GET BACK HERE!" The man howled, but Xander ignored him and kept going.

Xander might have been tempted to ask the man what the hell was going on, but the man's antagonistic attitude discouraged it. Xander doubted he'd get any sort of answer from such a man. Better to seek out that computer, or a less antagonistic person to question.

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 4

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Kendra

Because it was not full dark when the trick or treating hours began, Kendra was not out patrolling when the chaos began. That changed very quickly when the screaming started. She grabbed a stake and hustled out the door within seconds.

Sam, as was proper for a Watcher, merely looked up from his books briefly before returning his attention to them.

Once outside, Kendra found herself quite confused. While her life may have been regulated and controlled to a fare thee well, she was not totally ignorant of normal everyday life things, including television shows and movies. Mostly, she was aware of those that were popular enough to have become a part of everyday life - the stuff people reference in casual conversation without even thinking about it. It had been deemed prudent by Sam that she understand - and be able to use in appropriate circumstances - such references in order to not draw undue attention to herself. So to that end, he'd briefed her on the basics of each.

So she recognized a few costumes ... and quickly realized that the people wearing them were acting like the person they were dressed as. Unfortunately, she was unfamiliar enough with Halloween that she assumed the 'realism' with which people were 'acting' was normal. She wasn't even all that wrong, either, as some people did imitate whoever they were dressed as on Halloween. They just couldn't normally reach these levels of 'real'.

Even the screaming and running, at first, seemed like it might just be an extension of 'appropriate behavior' on this night. It wasn't until Kendra had walked for a while that she figured out something was truly amiss. At that point, she spotted what looked like some sort of demon clawing at a kid in a clearly home made costume. What clued Kendra in was the fact that wounds were opening under the claws, and blood was flowing.

Immediately she hurried over. Her sudden, aggressive movement startled the demon, who shot a look at her and bolted away. She stopped just long enough to make sure the kid's wounds weren't serious - which they weren't - and tell the kid to go home. The kid seemed only to happy to do so, and ran off.

Kendra continued on her way, keeping a sharper eye out now that she knew something was truly amiss, even if she couldn't quite figure out what, or why.

It was inevitable that tragedy would strike.

About fifteen minutes into her unscheduled patrol, Kendra spotted a demon she recognized. Unfortunately, unknown to her, it wasn't actually that demon. It was, in fact, a kid in a bespelled costume that had borne a close resemblance to said demon by sheer chance. Or maybe not. It was possible that someone had encountered and remembered that particular demon, then wrote about.

The 'demon' had a triad of kids that were barely more than toddlers cornered. One of the three was on the ground, bleeding from several cuts made by the 'demon's' claws. The 'demon' was paying no mind to its surroundings, far too focused on its helpless prey.

So Kendra did what she was trained to do.

(_)(_)(_)

Halloween: Joyce and Giles

Giles had elected to stay at the Summers' house for the trick or treating. While the previous Halloween had gone by without a problem, Giles was no longer willing to take such chances. So he and Joyce had planned to take turns answering the door and handing out candy. When the screaming started, Giles immediately bolted for the basement and armed himself, then raced back upstairs.

He poked his head outside cautiously, and watched for a minute. It didn't take all that long before he realized what the problem was. Far more familiar with television shows and movies than Kendra, he rightfully identified several costumes, and the fact that the folks in them were both acting like who they were dressed as and acting VERY confused. He pulled back into the house briefly.

"Something's going on with the costumes." He told Joyce. "Some of the kids are acting like the characters and creatures they're dressed as." Giles frowned in thought for a few moments. "We need to figure out the hows and whys of this."

"And find the kids, and see if they're affected too." Joyce said. "They were all wearing costumes."

"Blast, I hadn't thought of that." Giles said, then sighed. "Well, Xander and Jon will be safe enough, as they're both dressed as soldiers. Buffy and Willow, however, are a concern. Especially if Buffy doesn't remember she is a Slayer." Giles' face went grim. "Right, need to find them. You stay ... " He started.

Joyce didn't let him finish. She gave him a death glare. "If you think I'm staying here and minding the house while my daughter is out there, possibly not even aware of who and what she is, and in danger from both costumed folks that feel like beating up on her and actual demons, you're crazy. I can handle myself, Giles."

Giles had the grace to look abashed. "Quite right. My apologies. It would seem that I have not yet managed to fully silence certain parts of my Watcher training."

Joyce grinned at him. "You're forgiven. I'll just go get some things to protect myself with, and then we can go find the kids." She hustled down to the basement and armed herself as well, choosing a crossbow as her main weapon, and a KA-Bar as her backup. Then she headed back upstairs.

"If I remember right, both Xander and Jon planned to take their kids around on this side of town, correct?" She asked. "And Buffy and Willow were going to head to the far end of town."

"Yes, that's correct." Giles said.

Joyce nodded. "Right, I'll see if I can track the girls down. You go find the boys. We'll meet up near Willy's Bar - that sound good?"

Giles nodded. "Unless you figure out how this is being done. In that case, come find me immediately, and I'll try to figure out how to stop it from there." Giles didn't really think Joyce would figure this out before he did, but he wasn't willing to completely dismiss the possibility.

The two of them headed out immediately.

Giles headed towards the high school, intending to find Xander first. He knew that Xander had intended to head down towards the Summers' house on his trick or treat route, so he was likely to be closest. Unfortunately, he didn't spot Xander anywhere on his proposed route.

Damn. Where could he have gotten to? It was pointless to search for him in the chaos. If he was affected, he could be anywhere. If he wasn't, he could still be anywhere, chasing after a real demon taking advantage of the situation, rescuing those not affected, or trying to find out what the heck was going on and fix it. Giles would waste entirely too much time seeking him out. Better to try to find Jon.

Jon, Giles managed to find fairly easily. He was down a road with a lot of apartment buildings on either side, alternating between beating up monsters and the odd real demon and grabbing those not affected and bringing them to a relatively defensible spot he'd found.

Watching Jon for a few moments, Giles realized that he was acting ... very much like his older self. Jon, while he had all of Jack's memories, hadn't had the either the muscle memory or the cumulative damage of a long, colorful life that had resulted in how Jack moved. As a result, while Jon had quickly re-familiarized himself with much of Jack's training after he'd been stabilized by Thor, Jon didn't move like his older counterpart.

Right now, however, Jon was moving remarkably like his older self, just minus some of the stiffness caused by bad knees. At one point, Jon looked right at Giles. At that point it became blatantly clear that Jon was affected by whatever was going on, because there wasn't so much as a flicker of recognition in Jon's expression, nor did he greet Giles, ask what was going on, or ask for assistance with his young charges.

Giles grimaced, but eventually decided to leave Jon to it. Whatever was going on, he was unlikely to accept assistance from a stranger. Giles would be better served trying to figure out what was going on. Jon could handle himself.

Instead, Giles headed for Willy's Bar. Joyce arrived a few minutes after he did.

"Found Willow. She's wandering around looking for Xander. I pointed her back towards the high school." Joyce said. "Didn't see Buffy, but that could mean anything. And Willow was definitely affected. She didn't recognize me."

Giles frowned. "I didn't spot Xander, but I did find Jon. He was affected as well. Hmm. Two of them, both with costumes from the same shop. I do believe that is a good enough place to start, even if it isn't the cause of the problem."

"Want me to come with?" Joyce asked.

Giles shook his head. "No, keep looking for Buffy and Xander, make sure they're all right. I do appreciate the offer, however."

"Right, will do. Fortunately, the 'fake' demons are easy to scare off, and not a whole lot of real ones around, so Buffy hopefully won't be in too much trouble." Joyce said, then smiled. "Then again, this is my daughter we're talking about. If there isn't trouble to find, she'll make some."

Giles gave Joyce an amused look before they went their own ways again.

It didn't take Giles long to find the costume shop, shut up tight now that the trick or treating had begun. From the outside it looked like only the security lights were on. Giles, however, wasn't fooled. A regular person might have been, but to anyone who had training in magic, the shop practically had flashing neon signs. So that was definitely the source of the problem. What Giles hadn't quite been prepared for was to *recognize* the magic in question.

He'd know Ethan's magical signature anywhere. Giles gave the shop a flat, almost evil glare, then rolled up his sleeves. Whatever Ethan was up to with this big a magical event, he wasn't going to make it easy to stop him. Giles briefly regretted allowing his magical training to lie dormant and unused for so long. He was about to get an unplanned workout.

He quietly cast a spell that would tell him if there were any lethal magical booby traps or other spells waiting for him. He didn't think there would be, but there was no telling when Ethan was involved. Thankfully, the spell came up empty. Well, at least this wasn't going to be *that* sort of difficult.

The spells that Giles encountered when he forced the door open sent him reeling back out into the street briefly. He, in point of fact, came to within a whisker of vomiting.

"Hmmm." He muttered to himself. "Definitely a disorientation spell. Well, that's dealt with easily enough." A whispered incantation and he headed back in.

Only to end up back out in the street again, this time because the 'forget why you're there' spells had gotten him. Giles growled in aggravation. "Ethan, I am going to beat you bloody for this." He warned. He didn't know if Ethan could hear him, of course, but it was the spirit of the thing.

Another incantation, and this time Giles managed to stay in the shop once he was in the door. Without the disorientation spell muddling his perceptions, he was able to realize that the shop ... looked a bit larger than it possibly could be. That was easily enough taken care of.

Which still left him with a shop that reeked of magic, and no Ethan in sight. Giles glanced around briefly ... and spotted one of the fake totems. He quickly recognized it as a totem to Janus, which wasn't wholly unexpected at this point. He didn't need to look at it closely to know it was a fake, either. Not because it was visibly wrong, but because Ethan would never put the actual totem in such a prominent, relatively unprotected place. No, the totem would be somewhere a bit more secure than that. The only question was *where* exactly, it could be.

Unfortunately, Giles didn't really get a chance to figure that out, as Ethan came out of the back of the shop, an almost - almost- friendly smile on his face.

"Ripper." He greeted. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up, old friend. You're getting slow on the uptake. But I suppose that's what becoming a Watcher does to you."

In another time, another place, Giles might have verbally remonstrated with his erstwhile friend. He might have tried to talk sense into the man and get him to tell Giles what he needed to know. But that was not here, and it was not now. While Giles might still be struggling with a few of the behaviors encouraged in him during his Watcher training, both his history as Ripper and the interventions of Jim, Jack, and Jon had seen to it that attempting to talk sense into someone that he knew wouldn't be willing to *see* sense never even crossed his mind.

Knowing that at this point, Ethan was the stronger, better trained magician, Giles didn't try to make it a magical battle either. Nor was he willing to give Ethan the time to think to make it a magical battle. Despite feeling it was slightly uncouth, Giles just closed the distance between the two of them in a rush and applied his foot where it would do the most good. When Ethan crumpled forward, Giles swiftly punched him in the face, breaking his nose and making speaking difficult. He then shifted his leg and brought his knee into Ethan's stomach while he was still bent forward, depriving him of the air necessary to speak. From there, it was ridiculously simple to force Ethan to the ground.

One knee on Ethan's chest, one hand clamped around a wrist and the other around Ethan's throat so that he might cut off the man's air if he tried to speak a spell or get loose, Giles glared down at Ethan.

"Tell me where the totem is." Giles commanded, more than a little of the Ripper leaking into his tone.

"Well hello ... " Ethan started, only to cut off with a faint noise as Giles tightened his grip on Ethan's throat briefly.

"Tell me where the totem is." Giles commanded again, his tone implacable.

Ethan must have seen something in Giles' expression, because he caved. "Under the floor just inside the front door." He wheezed.

Giles promptly knocked him unconscious, then headed for the indicated spot. Sure enough, he found the totem. One hard fling and it shattered on the concrete just outside the door. At the same moment the totem broke, Giles, in close proximity to it, felt the spell break, and a few seconds later the screaming stopped.

Giles breathed a sigh of relief, then returned to Ethan to tie him up and drag him ... well, somewhere. Not the Summers' home. The two of them needed to have a chat, old friend to old friend.

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 5: Aftermath

(_)(_)(_)

Jon, Xander, and Willow

When the magic spell was broken, the results were as instantaneous as the inception of the spell had been. Between one second and the next, everyone affected went back to normal.

Well, back to normal save some very odd, and in many cases discomfitting memories. Willow had managed to find her way to the high school before the spell was broken, so found herself in the familiar environs of the gym. Because her changes had been the most mild, she basically shrugged and just went with it. At least, until she remembered that Buffy, Xander, and Jon had been in costumes too.

Willow was bright enough to figure that Jon wouldn't be in too much trouble. He had been a soldier, after all, so regardless of how exactly the spell had affected him, it wouldn't be too far from what he'd experienced. Or, well, what his older, non-clone self had experienced, but Jon still had those memories, so it was the same basic thing.

The ones to worry about were Buffy and Xander. Xander would be discombobulated by having been a soldier briefly but it oughtn't to be too bad. What really worried her was Buffy. Had Buffy retained her Slayer abilities? The fact that Willow remembered *not* remembering the last year or so made her think Buffy might have had something similar happen, and Buffy hadn't been a Slayer for all that long. Worse - what if the Slayer abilities had been suppressed or something thanks to the spell? She really needed to find Buffy, fast.

(_)(_)(_)

Not too far away, Xander - who had made it to the Principal's office despite Snyder's attempts to intervene and had even begun to search for a nearby army base - jerked as the spell broke. He blinked at the computer screen for a moment, trying to reconcile what had happened.

Well shit. So that's what it meant to be a soldier, huh? Xander had kind of suspected - Jon sometimes did or said things that made it pretty clear a soldier's frame of reference was pretty different - but he'd kinda missed the mark. And he had Snyder in his face. Shit.

Xander shut the computer down and turned to walk away, trying his best to keep pretending he didn't know who Snyder was or where he was or any of that. He even took the same route out of the building that he could remember having taken to get to the principal's office.

About halfway there, he passed the gym. He just barely managed to not do a double take when Willow came flying out.

"Xander! Oh I'm so glad to see you. I was worried. What happened? Do you know? I mean, everything was so ... "

"I'm sorry miss. I have no idea who you are or who you think I am." Xander said. With Snyder behind him, he could afford to pin Willow with a pointed stare.

It took Willow a couple seconds to get it, but she did get it. "Oh! I'm sorry. Ummm ... did you get lost or something?"

"I got separated from my unit somehow." Xander bluffed.

"Well, there's an army base at the edge of town. I can show you the way there. They're bound to be able to get you where you need to be."

"I would appreciate that ma'am."

And, ignoring Snyder's outraged sputtering, they made their way out of the school. Once they were out of line-of-sight of the nearest windows, They collapsed against the house they'd ducked around the side of.

"Xander?"

"Yeah, I remember you. And it was definitely weird."

"Xander - we need to find Buffy. If it affected me and you ... "

Xander blanched. "Damn, it would affect her. And the real demons would take advantage of a Slayer that doesn't remember she is one."

"Or worse, on that might not have her Slayer abilities, however temporarily." Willow pointed out.

"Shit. You're right. We've got to find her, now. Let's go collect Jon. He can lead us to her a whole lot faster than we'd ever be able to find her on our own." Xander said.

"You know where he is?"

"Not exactly, but I know the general direction." Xander said. "Once we're close enough, he'll find us."

Willow grinned. "Good point. Let's go."

It didn't take them all that long to reach the general area that Jon had planned to take his group of trick-or-treaters.

"Jon! Where you at?" Xander called out.

Amusingly, Jon must have already been making his way towards the high school because he appeared around the building across the street seconds after Xander called.

(_)(_)(_)

"So ... that was different." Jon said. "And considering what I used to do for a living ... "

Xander laughed. "You'd know from different." He agreed. "We need to find Buffy, pronto. She was dressed as a *cheerleader*, Jon. And I don't know about you, but I didn't remember about demons or any of that for a while there."

"Neither did I." Willow said.

Jon cursed. "Me either. Right. Operation Find The Slayer is a go." Jon said.

Xander immediately put a hand on his arm, and Jon turned his attention outward, searching for the sound of Buffy's voice. If they were closer, or he was more practiced at this, he'd risk trying for her heartbeat, but with an entire town to check and a ton of people around, that wasn't going to be an option for Jon.

"Well, she's not on this end of town." Jon said after a few moments. "We're going to have to head over to the other side of town before I can check it. I can't manage the whole town yet."

They worked their way towards the middle of town, where Jon would be able to 'reach' the far side of town from the high school. He'd focused for less than three minutes before he gave his head a shake.

"Wow. Giles is *pissed*. He's reading someone the riot act. The guy from the costume shop, I think. Joyce isn't all that much better. She's hunting around for us and muttering dire threats at whoever did this to everyone. Buffy is ... " He reoriented himself slightly, then pointed. "That way. Up by Willow's place, I think. She's cussing up a storm too. From the sounds of it, she didn't have a good time. We also have someone else freaking right the hell out about accidentally killing a kid. They're ... " He reoriented again and pointed. "That way."

"Ok ... how do we do this?" Xander wanted to know. "Go from one to the other? Split ... " He didn't even bother finishing that option, because Jon was giving him A LOOK that made it very, very clear what Jon's opinion of splitting up was. "Ok, from one to the next it is. So ... Joyce first so she stops looking for us and knows we're ok, pick up Buffy, then the person who accidentally killed a kid? I don't know about you but disturbing Giles in the middle of bitching out the perpetrator of this mess doesn't sound like a good idea."

"That works for me." Jon said. Willow nodded her agreement.

They opted to jog towards Joyce, so as to get from one to the next quickly. Joyce let out a relieved sigh when she spotted them.

"I can assume from your lack of urgency that Buffy is fine?" She asked.

"Madder'n a wet cat, but yeah, fine." Jon said. "I kinda pity anything dumb enough to cross her path tonight. She's in a mood. Not that I blame her one bit."

(_)(_)(_)

Buffy and Kendra

For her part Buffy was understandably pissed. She'd just spent the last ... how long? Hour or so? Maybe more, maybe less, she wasn't sure, running scared from demons. It pissed her right the hell off. Seriously. She'd actually been mid-flight from a demon when the spell had broken. Not that the running had lasted long after the spell broke. She'd nearly fallen on her ass in shock, then got her feet back under her, whipped around, and put the KA-Bar she'd been toting through the demon's chest.

She glanced around, trying to figure out where exactly she was at. She'd done so much running since the spell hit that she'd lost track. Fortunately, their daily patrols made it pretty easy to figure out where she was at. She was a block and a half away from Willow's house.

She considered her options, and decided to stay put. If she went looking for everyone, they'd conceivably miss each other repeatedly - at least until Jon managed to round everyone up. If she stayed put, they'd get to her that much easier and faster.

Sure enough, she hadn't been hanging out for more than about five or ten minutes before her mom's car came up the street, with Joyce behind the wheel and Jon, Xander, and Willow inside.

"You all right, Buffy?" Her mom wanted to know.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A few scratches but nothing more serious than that." Buffy made a face. "I'm seriously narked off though. We know who did this?"

"Giles has them, and is bitching them out." Jon said. "Using language that even Daniel'd be jealous of, I think, since he's worn out expressing his ire in human languages and has moved on to demonic ones. At least I think they're demonic anyway. They don't sound anything like a human language."

That got an amused huff out of Buffy. "So what's the plan?"

"We got one more stop to make. Some poor schmuck accidentally killed a kid wearing a monster costume." Jon said. "They are seriously not happy about it, but I figure we can help at least a little."

"Oh, damn. Yeah, that can't have been fun to realize." Buffy said with a wince. "Kind of lucky it didn't happen more, really. You'd think even Sunnydalians would fight back against something attacking them."

(_)(_)(_)

Kendra was ... horrified.

That was the best way to put it. She'd been attacked by a demon. She had slain the demon. At which point the demon had ... changed. Had become a child in a costume.

She had, however mistakenly, killed an innocent civilian.

Nothing in any of her training had prepared her for this possibility. Civilians were supposed to be far, far away from demons when a Slayer went on the warpath. Either that or easily identifiable as civilians compared to scaled, horned, fanged demons.

She ... didn't know how to deal with this. At all. She collapsed down near the body, not even capable of thinking far enough to return to her Watcher and report. She just kept staring at the dead body in horror. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She didn't even move when a car appeared at the top of the block and headed her way. She didn't notice when the car stopped. She did, though, finally take notice when a blonde haired girl crouched down in front of her, blocking her view of the body. Such was her shock it took Kendra a few moments to correctly identify Buffy from her spying stint earlier in the month

"Hey." Buffy said, her tone oddly gentle. "Look at me, ok? Don't blame yourself for this. It's not like you knew, right? You were just defending yourself."

Kendra gave her head a sharp shake. "Is my fault. I should have known. Should have seen."

"No." This time, a male voice. From a boy crouched down beside the dead child. After a second look, Kendra identified him as Jon, one of the two boys who worked with Buffy. "Don't do that to yourself. I don't care if you're the best trained anything ever - mistakes are gonna happen and you can't possibly know everything. So don't kick yourself over this." Then Jon glanced at Buffy, and over to one side, evidently at people that Kendra couldn't see due to Buffy and Jon blocking her sight-lines.

"Guys ... I think we have a situation. I could be wrong, but I think Buffy here has a twin, if you know what I mean."

"A ... are you sure?" That sounded like an adult woman's voice. Kendra pulled out of her fugue enough to try to peer around the blonde, and saw a woman, and a second and boy standing a little back from the group around Kendra and her victim. Her, Kendra did not immediately recognize, but assumed she was mother to one of the teens present. The two other children she recognized as Willow and Xander, Buffy's other tagalongs.

"As sure as I can be." Jon said.

"But ... there's not supposed to be ... twins." The woman said.

"Yeah, I know. Don't ask me how, but ... " Jon shrugged.

At that point, Buffy cocked an eyebrow at Kendra. "So. I'm Buffy. Vampire Slayer. That guy there is Jon, and if he's right, you're a Slayer too. Which means you have a Watcher around here somewhere, and I'm thinking a conference is in order." She said, then offered Kendra a hand up.

"Much as I hate doing it, we should just leave the kid here. The cops'll find him shortly, and assume he was killed by dogs or whatever excuse they come up with." Jon said, then glanced at Kendra. "You going to jail for it won't do any good. In the meantime, we can introduce ourselves, go collect Giles, Buffy's Watcher, find yours, and have a bit of a chat."

Chapter Text

Halloween, Part 6: Aftermath

(_)(_)(_)

Xander didn't like how Jon was acting.

Jon'd been fine when he'd reported the situation with the girl who mistakenly killed a kid. Or well, fine enough so as to fool Xander, at any rate. That had changed when they rolled up to the site of the death. Jon had pretty much instantly clammed up, going very blank-faced and worryingly remote. At the same time, there was an edge to his voice when he spoke that made Xander frown.

It took him a few minutes to realize that the tone in Jon's voice was familiar. And then another minute or two before Xander remembered where it was familiar from. When it finally hit him, Xander sucked in a quiet breath.

It was the tone of voice Xander got whenever Jessie got brought up. Only Jon's was a little more worn around the edges, as if the hurt of the loss had had time to heal over a bit. Xander'd known that Jon had lost someone dear to him - he'd told Xander and Willow as much during the summer. He'd never said who it was, though.

Xander was afraid he'd just figured it out. And if he was right, then no wonder Jon didn't talk about it. Xander and Willow's parents might not have been the best examples of the breed, but he'd seen enough parents in Sunnydale gutted by the loss of their kids to know that non-asshole parents tended to take the loss of a kid REALLY hard.

Xander didn't have the foggiest idea of what to do, so he just settled for being as physically close to Jon as he could get away with, even leaning against him a bit, using the close quarters of the car as an excuse. He didn't know if it was helping, but it was better than just sitting there doing nothing.

Of course, his excuse was a pretty good one. They were sort of packed butts to elbows in Joyce's car. Kendra had been sandwiched between Joyce and Buffy in the front, while Willow had joined them in the back.

Which brought up the other issue of the night.

How in the name of hell were there two Slayers?

Xander didn't even consider doubting Jon's word. If he said Kendra was a Slayer, then she was a Slayer. But ... how? There was supposed to be only one Slayer at a time! Well, they'd track down Giles soon, and ask him. Maybe he'd know.

They finally caught up with Giles at the edge of town beyond the university. He'd apparently opted for very firmly escorting the shop owner out of town rather than attempting to get some sort of 'normal' justice. Xander didn't blame him. Any attempt to bring this whole mess to court in pursuit of criminal or civil charges would get them laughed out of court.

It was also clear, when they caught up with him, that Giles, while opting to force the shop owner out of town, had also opted to dispense at least some small measure of rough justice. The guy was looking rather bruised and bloody around the edges, as well as slightly wild-eyed. Xander briefly debated asking Jon what had happened to get him that way, then decided he was probably better off not knowing. There was a gleam to Giles' eyes that made Xander twitchy.

That gleam disappeared entirely when Joyce briefed him, quietly and well away from the shop owner, about what was going on. Giles' eyes went wide and he stared from Kendra to Buffy and back again a couple times as he tried to process it.

Well, there went the theory, however weak, that it was possible to have two Slayers at a time, but rare, Xander thought when he saw that reaction.

He, Jon, and Willow had been keeping a careful eye on the shop owner during the brief talk between the two adults. Wisely, the guy kept his mouth shut. The way Jon was fingering one of his knives, Xander was none too sure the guy would survive opening his mouth. Not that he blamed Jon for that reaction in the least.

Giles came back over and hauled shop guy to his feet, leveling a flat glare at the guy.

"You will leave. And never return, Rayne. Because if you do, I will not be so merciful. Do not make the mistake the Watchers did, and think me ... spineless." Giles fairly growled.

Whoah. Xander's eyebrows headed for his hairline before he shot a startled look Jon's way. Jon caught the look and grinned toothily at Xander. Xander decided that meant that Giles was actually in earnest, not bullshitting shop guy.

Xander wasn't quite sure what to do with that realization.

Giles shoved shop guy in the direction of the Sunnydale airport, about a mile or so down the highway, then turned to their little group.

"Kendra, Buffy, with me." Giles said. "Joyce, if you'd follow us?"

And then he escorted the two girls to his ratty old car. They paused for a minute outside it. Xander couldn't hear what was being said, but from Giles' gestures, he assumed at least part of it was an inquiry into any unseen injuries either girl might have from their adventures tonight.

Xander watched the three of them go before turning a puzzled look on the others. "What the heck?"

"I think Giles is taking advantage of how he told us Slayers are normally trained." Joyce said, sounding a touch hesitant. "To get Kendra to do what he wants her to do - in this case, lead us to her Watcher."

Xander thought that over for a bit, then nodded. "Ok, makes sense. Though can I just say that the fact it works bugs me?"

Joyce gave a humorless snort as she herded the two boys and Willow into her car. "Tell me about it. I am so very grateful that Buffy managed to elude their normal detection methods, whatever they are. I don't like to think of how short a life she would have had if she'd been given the 'normal' training."

Neither did Xander. Her life had nearly been short enough as it was. He still got the willies thinking about what would have happened if he hadn't forced Angel to help him keep Buffy alive. Granted, his life had gotten even weirder since then, but the thought of Buffy dead over something so stupid and ultimately preventable made him see red.

They followed Giles into town, finally stopping at one of the apartment buildings in the area Jon had been taking his kids around. They all piled out and followed a silent Kendra up to one of the apartments.

Things got really damned interesting within about ten seconds of them all walking in the door.

They were met by a guy who looked like he was Giles' age, maybe a bit older. He was one of those nondescript sorts you could walk past and forget two seconds later. Brown hair going gray here and there, brown eyes, average height and build.

The apartment itself didn't look like it was the home of a Slayer and a Watcher. Joyce's place had more or less been transformed into an armory since the end of summer, with weapons in easy reach in every room of the house. He'd been reliably informed by Buffy (who had been the only one so far to see the inside of Giles' place) that Giles' apartment was every bit as bad, and had about ten million ancient books everywhere to boot. This apartment looked like it was straight out Better Homes and Gardens or something. Nice, neat, aesthetically pleasing - and completely without any real personality, or any sense that people were actually *living* there. Not to mention the somewhat horrifying lack of weaponry in evidence. Seriously, there wasn't so much as a letter opener in sight. Nor any books, though Xander was willing to assume those were in another room where random, chance entrants into the apartment wouldn't see them and wonder.

The guy glared at Kendra. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought them here?" He demanded.

Kendra went all stiff, hands folded at the small of her back - almost parade rest, actually - and responded. "I had no choice. Upon leaving base, I determined there were a number of persons wearing Halloween costumes who were ... acting atypically. Furthermore there were a number of ... " She hesitated for half a second, and Xander saw the flash of pain. "Apparent demons out and about, attacking the civilians. They were unusually quick to startle and run, making pursuit and ... " her voice broke on the next word. " ... destruction ... more difficult than usual. I was in fact unable to apprehend any demons for most of the night."

And her tone all but shouted 'thank god for that'. Not that Xander blamed her a bit.

"Eventually, I was able to apprehend a demon and ... " She couldn't say it, apparently. "Unfortunately, I discovered too late that it was not, in fact, a demon. An apparent magic spell had been placed on a child, roughly six years of age, so that they looked and acted like a Yuluta demon."

Before the guy could do or say anything, Giles butted in. "I would very much like to know, Mr. Zabuto, what you are doing in Sunnydale. With a Slayer that should not exist, seeing as the previous Slayer is most assuredly still alive and empowered."

"It is not your place to question me, Rupert Giles." Zabuto snapped. "However unusual the circumstances, your Slayer has been replaced and her services no longer required. I have been given instructions to order you to remand Buffy Summers to my custody, and to ensure that you return to the Council."

"Oh HELL no."

"Not in this lifetime."

"I don't think so, buster."

"If you think you're taking my daughter ... "

"Try and take me, I dare you."

Needless to say, the objections had been instantaneous, vociferous, and more than a little venomous. The only person who hadn't actually given voice to an objection was Giles. Xander didn't mistake that for Giles agreeing with Zabuto. Giles might not have said anything, but the look he was giving Zabuto was making the hackles on Xander's neck rise, and giving him goosebumps.

He'd gotten the odd hint over the last couple months that there was more to Giles than he'd first assumed. Right now, though, it was less of a hint and more of an outright statement. Because Giles was giving Zabuto a look that promised bloodshed, pain and death ... and a marked lack of concern over dealing it out for someone Xander had dismissed as a bookworm last year.

"You will explain." Giles' tone brooked no disagreement. "In detail your purpose here. Or I will be forced to use unfortunate, disagreeable methods to enforce your compliance."

And apparently, Zabuto might have been an arrogant idiot, but he wasn't actually lethally stupid. Because he backed down and complied with Giles' ... request.

"Your Slayer is an incompetent disgrace." Zabuto said. "Uncontrolled, willful and woefully ignorant. That you permit civilians to know of our sacred duty, never mind attempt to participate in it, is criminal. That you have not prevented the dissemination of information to persons outside of your influence is even worse. That you permit your Slayer to associate with a Master Vampire, rather than seek its destruction, is wholly unconscionable. I was asked to come here and assess the severity of the situation and make recommendations as to what action needed to be taken to correct the situation."

Giles gave a disgusted snort. "And a fine example of a Watcher you are, I presume? Whose Slayer couldn't even tell the difference between a costume and the real thing and now has the death of an innocent on her conscience because of it? All because the Council decreed a few hundred years ago that Slayers need to focus on Slaying above all else." He made a noise of disgust. "Tell me, Zabuto, if you can ... what comfort will you give her when the nightmares start? However unorthodox Buffy's training and situation may be, she at least knows she can depend on me and come to me for comfort and guidance, rather than seeing me as a remote, untouchable, unconcerned drill sergeant." Giles waved a hand at Kendra, who was still standing in that approximation of parade rest.

"Has it even occurred to you yet to inquire if she is injured? For the record, she is not. I made sure of that before I asked her to lead us here." Giles eyed Zabuto. "The Council is not always right, Zabuto. I am prepared to admit that they have good ideas, and even good ways to implement ideas. But other ideas of their run counter to simple common sense and common human decency, and I will not be a party to that. And the biggest problem along that line is the idea that Slayers have to be focused on Slaying to the exclusion of all else in their lives. Yes, slaying demons is an important duty, but even the most dedicated soldier needs down time and a private life to go home to from time to time."

"Now." Giles said. "You have one of two choices. You can return to the Council - with your tail tucked firmly between your legs, and without either myself or Buffy. Or you can stay here and maybe learn a thing or two. It's up to you." Then he turned to Kendra. "I know you have to have heard all sorts of things about Buffy and myself, but please know that if you ever wish to seek us out, for any reason, we will welcome you." Then he turned back to their group. "We'd better get going. We still need to patrol at least a little, make sure things have actually calmed down."

Xander wanted to object to leaving, but he reluctantly realized that it was the only thing they could do. They couldn't force Kendra to come with them any more than Zabuto could force Buffy to go with him. She'd have to come to them of her own free will. Not that it would stop Xander from trying to talk her around if he saw her out on her own.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 1

(_)(_)(_)

Xander wasn't overly surprised when they discovered, the next day, that Zabuto was making no move to leave town. If he was half as loyal to the Council as he seemed to be, he wouldn't so much as sneeze without their written in triplicate permission.

The fact that the bit about sneezing was a direct quote from Giles - said in the world's most sarcastic tone ever - kind of boggled Xander's mind. Xander had no freaking clue *why* Giles was so wound up and acting atypically from how he'd acted up to now, but he sure was. Xander couldn't decide if it was freaky, awesome, worrying, or a combination of all three.

What cheered Xander immensely, though, was the fact that Kendra was watching them.

He wasn't an idiot. Zabuto and Kendra had clearly been in town for a bit, and Kendra'd watched them at least once. He remembered Jon remarking on several occasions that they were being watched. While some of those times Jon had been able to identify their watcher as something non-human, other times, he hadn't. That didn't mean that all those times it had been Kendra, but the odds of some of them being her were actually fairly good.

The point being - they hadn't seen her. If it hadn't been for Jon's senses, they'd never have known they were being watched. Now, Kendra wasn't bothering to hide. Xander let her lurk semi-obviously before he strolled over. For a second, she looked like she was considering bolting. Xander slowed to a stop nearby, but not close enough to crowd her.

"Hey." He said quietly. "I don't think we got properly introduced. My name's Xander."

Kendra gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything immediately.

"Curious what we're doing?" Xander asked. "You don't have to lurk over here if you don't want. You can come in and join us. Not like we're doing anything we're ashamed of."

And while it was probably dangerous in that she'd tell Zabuto, it was really the only way to 'corrupt' Kendra into realizing that the Council way wasn't the only way. There was only so much she'd learn by lurking around outside the house, or following them at a serious distance at night.

Kendra's eyebrows headed for her hairline. "You know I am to watch you, and to report to my Watcher, yet you invite me in?" She shook her head. "It passes comprehension."

Xander grinned at her. "Maybe I think we have more to gain by letting you hang out with us." He said. "Maybe I think we can open your eyes to another way of thinking." When she bridled, he held up a hand. "I'm not saying the Council is wrong." Well, yes he was, but if he laid that out there right now, Kendra'd clam up and they might lose her. "I'm saying that it is very, very rare for a single solution to be the *only* solution to a problem. Especially one as complex as handling demons."

Kendra visibly wasn't buying it, but she also wasn't scoffing at him or immediately dismissing it. It was possible she was employing the same tactics he was, but in this particular case, that was going to work to his advantage. The longer she stuck around thinking she could 'correct their thinking', the longer they had to convince her they weren't nuts.

After several long moments, she sighed, then pushed away from the house she'd been crouched next to in order to watch them. "Very well, I will join you."

"Excellent. C'mon, I'll introduce you to everyone." Xander said, then led the way back across the street, around the side of Joyce's house to the outside entrance to the basement.

"Hey guys, look who decided to come for a visit!" He called as he walked into the basement. "Everyone, this is Kendra. Kendra, you already know Giles and Buffy." Xander indicated the two of them, working on grips and throws for human or near-human opponents as control practice for Buffy's strength.

"That over there is Jon O'Neill," Xander pointed at Jon, who was doing some crossbow target practice.

"And the lady sitting at the table there Joyce, Buffy's mom. The gal sitting across from her is Willow" He indicated the table that sat in the gap between the 'library' section and the open section used for training practice, behind the stairs up to the main floor. It was placed such that anyone sitting there had a straight line-of-sight to the backyard entrance to the basement.

"We've got a couple other folks that help sometimes - Mrs. Calendar, who helps with research and such, and a gal named Cordelia, who helps with patrols sometimes, and acts as backup if we need numbers for something. Oh ... and Angel. Him, you won't meet until tonight."

He glanced at her. "This is one of the things Zabuto threw a fit about last night. Angel is a vampire. He got cursed by gypsies to have a soul about a hundred years ago or so. Hasn't eaten people since, so far as we know. He's good for backup if we need more muscle than just Buffy can provide, and he has some decent intel on Vampire courts and various demons he's encountered. So we don't stake him."

Much as Xander sometimes might want to, they didn't.

Kendra looked horrified. "You willingly consort with a vampire?" She asked.

"More like reluctantly and cautiously." Xander admitted. "We're not stupid about the risks, but it's worth it for the backup. Because even you have to admit that sometimes Slayers run into problems they can't win against alone."

Kendra looked sour, but if she knew her history, she couldn't possibly deny it. Slayer history was rife with Slayers who got overwhelmed by superior demonic forces in big battles.

"But that's us. Joyce and Mrs. Calendar generally act as research if we run across something in the middle of a patrol. We just call them and go 'ok, it's big, scaly, green, and has wickedly curved claws' or whatever the description of the demon - or the condition of the victims that get left behind - might be. Means we don't lose time going 'what the heck'. Because we've run across stuff even Giles doesn't know."

That got Giles an accusatory look from Kendra. Giles regarded her blandly for a moment. "This is a hellmouth, Kendra. As such, it is home to, or lures in, a far wider variety of demons than is normally found in other locations. Many of which would not normally be found in the same vicinity as other demons that have been drawn here, or who find the weather conditions here unfavorable. It makes identification of what we are pursuing far more problematic than the norm."

Kendra visibly thought that one over for a minute before she nodded reluctant agreement. "There is truth in what you say." She said aloud."

"So, quick tour. To the left there is our 'oh, gross, I'm covered in goo' wash station. Lots of hot water, several types of soap and other things to get goop off, and clean clothes. Most of this area is for training purposes. Other side of the stairs has a miniature library - all the books Giles consults the most frequently, or thinks we'll have the highest likelihood of needing at some point. He's got a whole bunch of others at his place. Tables and comfy chairs for research parties. Weapons in easy reach everywhere in the room, and that's about it." Xander wrapped up.

Kendra looked like she actually liked the basement. Xander didn't blame her. While it wasn't perfect for their purposes, it came as close as made no never mind. It was also something that would be very rare for a roving Slayer to have access to.

"What is it you are researching?" Kendra asked.

"Not researching, so much as learning at all." Joyce admitted. "Buffy came into this rather later than seems to be the norm with Slayers, so she's having to learn as she goes. Since we're all living here, we're all learning as well. Because even if we weren't taking part in patrolling and actively thinning the demonic population, it *is* the hellmouth and the odds of us accidentally running into something are pretty high. Knowing when to just run like hell, or whether we can risk fighting back is always a good thing."

"Normal humans cannot fight off demons." Kendra said.

"Hand to hand? With most demons? You're right." Giles agreed. "But normal humans can handle some of the lesser demons, and vampire minions - especially here on the hellmouth, where there is a tendency for minions to sire minions. It makes for very, very weak vampires overall. Many have virtually no strength or speed advantage over a normal human."

"And with certain martial arts, even if we can't kick its butt, we can make it fall on its face and get a few extra seconds to get the heck out of there." Xander said.

Of course, they weren't really learning those arts - Jon and Jim had been very clear on their desire to concentrate on those arts that taught 'survive by doing whatever the hell you need to with whatever is on hand'. Krav Maga being their main go-to in that arena. Still, the fact remained that arts like Aikido and Judo, that taught you to use an opponents height, weight, and momentum against them, had a lot of moves that could be used to give you a few extra seconds to run.

"And the crossbows and grenade launchers tend to even the odds a little bit too." Willow piped up for the first time. "Especially with the demons that are susceptible to something in particular. If you can hit them at range, them getting their claws on you becomes less of a worry."

Kendra cocked her head to the side, but after a moment, she nodded. "A valid point." She admitted. She still strongly disagreed with them being in the fight. That said, she couldn't deny that this town was dangerous, and that the residents had a right to defend their own lives. In that light, learning all they could of the demonic world made sense.

She didn't know enough to question that they had grenade launchers. The Watchers considered weapons other than stakes and blades to be useless, and even if they had thought them of use and equipped Slayers with them, Slayers did not concern themselves with weapon-related laws. They carried what they needed to get the job done, laws be damned.

"C'mon. We can show you some of the stuff we've been learning, and you can show us any moves we don't already know. Maybe give us the down-low on any demons you've run into that we haven't yet." Xander offered.

Privately, he gave a pleased grin. For the first day of attempting to corrupt Kendra, they were doing pretty good. Apparently, appealing to logic was the way to go to at least get her to listen, even if she still thought they were crazy. Of course, whether or not she could handle being around Angel remained to be seen.

It took all of half a minute for Buffy to talk Kendra into a sparring session about fifteen minutes later, when she'd finished working with Giles.

"C'mon, you know you want to. I mean, this is like the first time ever there's been two Slayers, right? So there's never really been a chance for a friendly spar with someone who can match us in strength and speed and all that."

Kendra nodded soberly. "No weapons. I do not wish to harm, accidentally."

"Agreed." Buffy said.

The rest of them got the heck out of the way really fast, retreating behind the table where they could duck behind the bulk of the stairwell if it became necessary for some reason.

"This is going to be awesome." Jon said. "I've seen the sort of damage super strong, warrior-trained women can do."

Xander shot him a curious look, wondering what he was talking about. Obviously, it was something his older counterpart had encountered, but with what Jack O'Neill did for a living, there was absolutely no telling what, exactly, the story was.

"Tell you later." Jon said with a grin.

The spar between Buffy and Kendra was ... pretty epic. Kendra had a clear edge in overall experience with fighting. Hardly surprising, since she'd been training since she was in diapers more or less and Buffy'd only started learning to fight a couple years ago. But Buffy was far, far more adaptable than Kendra, which really evened the odds. Again, hardly surprising as Buffy kind of had to make stuff up as she went because of not having any training as a Potential.

Who had the upper hand changed so many times that Xander lost count. Eventually, it ended in a draw, with both girls out of breath and leaning on a handy patch of wall. Buffy had a toothy, pleased grin on her face.

"That." She proclaimed. "Was fun as hell. We have got to do that again sometime. I haven't gotten a workout like that since Xander's dad put us through the wringer this summer."

Kendra blinked at her. "Xander's father?"

"Ex military." Buffy said. "Taught us all quite a few handy tricks. And don't look at me like that. He got into this when Xander got attacked and his dad found him - bleeding like a stuck pig - clear in freaking Los Angeles. His dad kinda cottoned on to there being something funky going on when his kid had, you know, claw gouges and had gotten dragged a good hour and a half away from where he'd been when he disappeared."

Of course, that was missing out about three fourths of the truth of those events, but none of them was quite ready to trust Kendra with *all* their secrets. Which would be why Jon's status as a Sentinel and Xander's as a Guide hadn't been mentioned.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 2

(_)(_)(_)

Even at the best of times and under the best conditions, dealing with cancer sucked. Finding out you had terminal brain cancer and were going to die in less than a year - that was most definitely not a best-case scenario. People with terminal cancer of any variety had been known to pull some shit-crazy stunts. But when your brain is what had the cancer, which meant that said cancer was eating what you thought with, shit-crazy stunts took on a whole new meaning. William 'Billy' Ford, terminal brain cancer sufferer, was in a position to re-define 'shit-crazy stunts' entirely.

Billy Ford had been an attendee of Hemery High. The high school whose gym Buffy had torched in her effort to kill vamps when she first became the Slayer. Worse, he'd been a friend of hers, which meant he'd been far less likely to forget her, and the incident, 'Sunnydale style' in an attempt to rationalize what had happened or forget that it had happened at all. He'd also already been suffering from brain cancer, though he hadn't found *that* out until after Buffy had left Hemery.

The bad news was that Billy knew about the existence of vampires. Really-real vampires, not the stupid literary and cinematic versions thereof. He also did not like the idea of the lingering and painful death he was facing - and that was if the gods were on his side. If they weren't, it wouldn't be painful - he'd just spend a month or so as an amnesiac and finally a vegetable before his body gave out under the burden of the cancer. Not dying like that? Would be a really good thing. Not dying at all? That would be even better.

Somewhere in the month or so after Billy was diagnosed, it occurred to Billy that there might just be a way to not die. At least, not permanently. Become a vampire. Unfortunately for Billy's intentions, vampires were rare and hard to find unless you happened to be on a Hellmouth or lived in a high population density area where murders would garner less individual or collective notice. Hemery wasn't, under normal circumstances, anywhere big enough to play host to even one vampire without its depredations being noticed. So Billy started doing some research.

In his search for a population of vampires, Billy ran into one of the unfortunate facts of life. The truth that people are willing to romanticize and fanboy over even the most horrendous, vile things, people, and acts. Much as serial killers had groupies and people willing to date and/or marry them given a chance, vampires had their fans. Fans who either had no clue as to the realities of being a vampire, or completely misconstrued and redefined those realities into something far less horrific than they really were. Among such people, it was inevitable that one or more would know that vampires truly existed, and where to find them.

More interestingly, Billy stumbled across rumors of the Slayer. It didn't take Billy long to figure out that Buffy was one. Further careful research provided him with more reliable and possibly truthful information about Slayers than was generally available in the vampire-sympathetic online communities.

At that point, a vague plan began to form. Billy started trying to track down where Buffy had gone. It wasn't until Xander's near-death incident that he found anything, and even then, he didn't find Buffy herself. Just a link to a place that ... well, was a little odd.

There was very little information online about Sunnydale or its residents. What little Billy could find mostly painted the town as an idyllic, perfect place to live. But something was off. The folks in the few pictures tended to have either Stepford-esque smiles or a distinctly hunted look in their eyes. The amenities available in what was really a small town rang alarm bells. Sunnydale had a stunning array of entertainment options and shopping opportunities for a relatively small town. Then there was the numerous churches. For a population that small, there were a ridiculous number. And a more careful review of the pictures revealed an oddly high number of cemeteries.

So Billy dug deeper - and found the crime reports and statistics. Gangsters and druggies on PCP and barbecue fork accidents? Really? People *bought* those explanations? Billy had snorted, and decided he'd found what he was looking for, if in an unexpected place. Sunnydale was clearly crawling with vampires, if you knew what you were looking for. And then he managed to finally track down where Buffy had got to after leaving Hemery. The fact she was in Sunnydale just sealed the deal for Billy.

From there, it was easy to spread the word. Within days, he had nearly fifty people wanting to go to Sunnydale to be turned. Getting his parents to agree to visit Sunnydale had been even easier, as they were both of a mind to give Billy anything he wanted that was within their power to give. Going to Sunnydale so he could say goodbye to an old friend hardly seemed an egregious request.

He arranged for he and his parents to get to Sunnydale a few days ahead of the groupies. He needed to check things out. Find a vampire willing to turn him if he could. If he couldn't ... well, at least he'd die fast. It was better than what he was facing otherwise.

There was just one small problem, when Billy got to Sunnydale. Its name was Spike, and the purge of vampires he'd perpetrated just before, during and after his claiming of the Aurelius court. Vampires were, as a result, rather thin on the ground in Sunnydale these days. That made it rather difficult to actually find one, even roaming around at night like he didn't have any idea that he was courting death by doing so.

He avoided Buffy, while telling his parents that he was hanging out with her, but not yet telling her about the cancer, and that he was dying. The longer he could draw out his stay in Sunnydale, the better. Unfortunately, actually seeking Buffy out would curtail most of his available time to search for vampire daytime hidey-holes. He's seek her out once he'd gotten a vampire's attention.

Then one day, by sheer chance, Billy wandered a bit too close to Spike's headquarters. The Headquarters that were now guarded assiduously by vigilant eyes both vampire and not. Spike did not tolerate the lackadaisical approach to security that the kid-vamp had permitted, and the surviving vampires in his Court knew it. Since none of them were criminally stupid, or in a hurry to get dusted, they made sure to keep a sharp eye out. The non-vampire security was well and promptly paid for their services with whatever currency appealed to them the most, whether that was human victims or actual money. Between that and being treated well, none of them were inclined to let something slip through the way ill-treated or poorly paid security forces might be tempted to. Spike was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

The end result was that Billy got smacked upside the head hard enough to make him see double but not pass out, thus making him a lot easier to cart around without having to fight him, and dragged into Spike's HQ. This, because the demon community had noticed the kid wandering around at night like he was looking for something. The demon that spotted the kid near Spike's HQ was bright enough to wonder what the kid was up to, and figure that Spike might also want to know, and be able to get it out of the kid. So the kid was brought in instead of being killed outright.

The security demon left Billy in a corner with two of its fellows as guards while he headed towards Spike's throne. Said throne was actually a big, cushy leather recliner, because Spike was a bit of a hedonist as well as a rebel. He was not inclined to use an actual throne the way a lot of Court Masters might, because the things were invariably uncomfortable as all hell.

By the time the security demon and Spike had finished their low-voiced consultation, Billy had recovered from the headsmack enough to not be seeing double anymore, though he still had a whopper of a headache. So he took the opportunity to look around a bit, and was rather surprised.

Spike's new HQ was a mansion in the 'rich' part of Sunnydale, literally just down the street from Cordelia's house. The place was pretty ideal for a Court because this end of town was somewhat less populated, making it easier to see trouble coming. The homes were also set on far larger plots of land, with big, sturdy fences actually meant to stop intruders from gaining access, rather than just demarcating the property line or containing a pet. The size of the place also allowed for quite a number of vampires and sundry demons to live there full time without getting on each others' nerves. That they got to live in relative comfort, compared to what was available in tunnels or warehouses also helped immensely.

The room they were in was what would have been a 'party room'. A large room meant to hold a good number of people who were mingling and, in a past era, dancing. Spike had converted it into his 'throne room'.

The security demons watching over Billy, the one talking to Spike, and Spike aside, there were a good dozen demons in the room, and two other vampires. Or at least, Billy assumed them to be vampires. There were chairs - none of them nearly as nice as Spike's 'throne', and a few small tables scattered around the edges of the room.

Then the demon talking to Spike came back over and Billy was dragged in front of Spike.

"So. I'm told you've been sniffing around town. Wanna tell me why?" Spike asked, his tone amiable and friendly. Though, if you knew what you were listening for, there was steel behind the words. Just a faint hint of menace and threat.

Billy grinned at Spike. "Well, I'm looking to join you lot."

Spike made a thoroughly disgusted face. "You one of those groupie wankers? Think vamps are misunderstood? That we're really kind and gentle and just need hugs?"

There was more than a little mocking laughter from pretty much every vampire and demon in the room.

"No." Billy said. "What I am, is dying. Which I'd really prefer not to do. At least not the way it'll actually happen. And it's not like I'm coming here empty handed. There's going to be a bunch of those groupie idiots coming - I figure you can munch on them or whatever. Not like I actually give a fuck what happens to them. And ... I can give you the Slayer."

That had Spike leaning forward. "The Slayer? What do you know about that?"

"Not all that much." Billy admitted. "But she's an old friend of mine. I went to school with her, before she came here. I was there when she first became the Slayer and took down her first vampires. Though I didn't realize that was what was going on at the time. I figured it all out later, after she'd gone."

"She know you're in town?" Spike wanted to know.

"No. I figured having to hang out with her would cut into my time finding you guys." Billy said.

Spike eyed him, then nodded, and turned to one of the vampires, one that had been sticking close to Spike's throne, whether standing or sitting. "Go ask Dominga to come down, would you?"

The other vampire nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, he returned, followed by a pretty, dark-skinned, dark haired girl about Billy's age. At the same time she walked in the room, the security demons on either side of Billy got a tighter hold on him.

"Dominga." Spike greeted the girl, sounding oddly fond. "Got a question for you. Would you get anything out of this wanker?" Spike waved a hand negligently in Billy's general direction.

Dominga eyed Billy, then walked over, getting right up close. After a moment, she backed off. "Not much. Most of his life-force is drained away already."

"Right. You in a mood for a snack then, or shall we just dispose of him somehow else?" Spike wanted to know.

"It really wouldn't be worth the bother." Dominga admitted.

Spike nodded. "All right then." He pointed to one of the other demons in the room. "Take him back as close to where he's staying as you can safely get. Make it look like his heart gave out. And make sure nobody tries to eat the body. Last thing we need is the Slayer and her buddies on our asses for killing a friend of hers."

Billy, having realized he was going to be denied being turned, tried to object, but got thumped on the head again, this time hard enough to knock him out and silence his objections.

He never woke up.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 3

(_)(_)(_)

November 2, 1997

As it was the weekend, the Scoobies patrolled later than they did on weekdays, and as a result woke rather later in the day. Joyce had made a huge brunch for everyone. Literally everyone (except Angel, of course), as even Ms. Calendar and Cordelia had ended up traipsing over to the Summers' house to talk about the events of Halloween.

"I still want to know how the heck there's two Slayers." Buffy said as they ate. "I mean, not that I mind too much - Kendra's kind of nice. Naive and brainwashed, but nice. Still, from everything you've said." She indicated Giles. "There oughtn't to be two of us at once."

Giles looked a bit discomfited. "Actually, I had a think about that yesterday, while we were entertaining Kendra." He said. "And the only way I can think that it happened is that you really did die, however briefly, that day."

Needless to say, that news didn't really go over all that well with anyone at the table. Buffy and Joyce both went a little gray around the edges, and Joyce wrapped one arm around Buffy. Willow's eyes got suspiciously shiny. Jon, Ms. Calendar and Cordelia all looked rather distressed. For himself, Xander was rather abruptly not hungry and ... well. He shoved away from the table and bolted for the basement.

He ended up sitting in a corner of the library section of the basement, arms resting on his knees and his forehead resting on his arms, trying to figure out if he was more angry or upset or what. Because his emotions were kind of doing a dance on him. He'd known it had been close, of course. Kind of hard to miss, with the whole 'having to do CPR' thing. But just because you need to do that doesn't mean the person is actually dead - at least, not yet.

Granted he hadn't known her really well then - heck, he still didn't know her really well now, as they hadn't known each other for even a year - the realization that she had actually died bothered Xander a lot. The fact that she could have *stayed* dead - and worse, that her staying dead would have been on Xander, was freaking him right the hell out. He didn't know if he'd have been able to handle that, after Jesse. Hell, he wasn't sure he could handle the could-have-been of it now. Not to mention that he was even more pissed off at Giles and Angel than he'd been when the whole thing had gone down. Though at least Giles had tried to fix his screwup at the time, was learning from his mistakes, and Xander didn't think he'd screw up like that again. Angel on the other hand ... Xander was more tempted than ever to stake the bastard. If he'd just gotten off his ass, the whole damn thing might not have happened. Hell, if the two of them had just watched their mouths, it might not have happened. Fucking prophecies. Self-fulfilling sacks of crap, more like.

He didn't get long to try to sort himself out in private. Both Jon and Buffy came after him about a half a minute after he'd tucked himself into the corner. They sat with him quietly for a while until he finally picked his head up and leaned back.

"Thanks, Xander." Buffy said quietly.

Xander gave a wobbly laugh. "No problem, but let's try not to have that happen again, ok? I dunno if I could handle having that happen a second time."

"Me either." Buffy said, giving a convulsive shiver.

They sat there quietly for a bit longer, then Xander sighed. "Right. We better get a move on. With a bit of luck, Kendra will show up again today, and we can work on corrupting her a bit more."

"Yeah, here's hoping. You know, Giles had mentioned how Slayers were usually brought up, and it sounded creepy as hell. Actually seeing it, it's *so* much worse." Buffy said as they got to their feet.

"No shit." Jon said, making a face. He bumped shoulders with Xander and gave Xander a questioning look.

Xander grinned at him. He wasn't ok - wouldn't be for a while - but he wasn't freaking out anymore either. Which was about as good as it was going to get for now. Besides, he didn't want to worry Jon.

(_)(_)(_)

Jon kind of wanted to smack Giles for breaking that bit of news so offhandedly. He actually might have, if the situation was different. But he realized that Giles was still trying to rid himself of the indoctrination he'd been subjected to by the Council. Giles had shed most of the indoctrination by now, but there were still bits and pieces of it that hadn't been thrown in the trash yet and they'd crop up now and again. Jon had seen Teal'c deal with the same sort of problem now and again regarding the Goa'uld and the indoctrination that all Jaffa got. And Teal'c had had Bra'tac corrupting him for ... well, a long time before Jon had met him.

Though Bra'tac would have unwittingly allowed Teal'c to retain some of the indoctrination. For all Bra'tac had figured out the Goa'uld were bad news, he would not have been able to shake all of the indoctrination, as doing that alone, in secret, with no support or unbiased outside opinion of things was pretty much impossible. Mostly because without outside help, you just wouldn't see all of it. And whatever bits Bra'tac was blind to, he'dve let Teal'c keep.

At any rate, everyone reacted pretty predictably, at least for civilians. Which is to say that everyone was varying shades of freaked out. Jon didn't blame them at all for that - it was a natural enough response. Even folks trained to deal with the possibility of dying could and did still freak out at close calls - it just didn't happen quite as often as they *had* gotten training.

All of that said, Jon was still on his feet and chasing after Xander when Xander bolted, and only mildly surprised when Buffy was only seconds behind him. Xander and Buffy would be the hardest hit by this, Jon knew. Buffy because she'd been the one who died, however briefly, and Xander because he'd been the one to pull her back. Shit like that tended to forge bonds between saver and savee, so there had been even odds on both of them either curling up and freaking out or going to the assistance of the other one.

It didn't take any kind of brain at all to figure out that Xander was probably freaking out over the could-have-beens. Unfortunately, there wasn't much Jon could do or say to help, because logic really didn't tend to work on that sort of shit very well. Your brain still insisted on going there and freaking right the hell out.

And even if he hadn't been inclined to do what he could to help Xander (and the others) deal with crap they hadn't been trained to deal with, he had the whole sentinel thing driving him to look after Xander. Sometimes, Jon noticed it and it bugged him. Sometimes he didn't notice it. Other times, like now, he noticed it but it didn't bug him. Of course, in his case, it really helped that he had Jim to talk to, who'd had to deal with all this sentinel nonsense with only Blair to help. And Blair, through no fault of his own, hadn't known what the heck he was doing either. So he and Xander were really benefiting from Jim and Blair's trial-by-fire ... even if the two of them were only about a year ahead of him and Xander.

Thankfully, Xander seemed to pull it together pretty quick. Then again, Xander, in the brief time Jon had known him, had seemed to have a very practical, pragmatic bent. Jon wondered sometimes if that was a product of being a guide, of having dealt with really weird shit for nearly a year, or just plain Xander.

Jon followed Xander back upstairs, turning his mind to how they were going to corrupt Kendra. If that girl was going to have a chance in hell of surviving, she at the very least needed to learn to think outside the box, rather than depending solely on Council-approved fighting methods. Because not every critter was going to stick to the script for their species. Spike and Angel being cases in point, if for entirely different reasons.

Though at this point, Jon was almost - *almost* approving of Spike. Master Vampire he might be, and dangerous as shit to Buffy and the rest of them by association, but he was currently doing about half Buffy's job for her. Vamp numbers - and vamp related deaths - had dropped to almost nothing since Spike had decided to make himself a court. Even the other demons were being a bit more well-behaved, though Jon wasn't delusional enough to think that would last. Or that Spike, clever and capable as he seemed to be, could control every demon that came to Sunnydale. Some of them would be strong enough to feel free to ignore him, and others just wouldn't give a shit. Still, the drop in 'business' was much appreciated by all of them.

(_)(_)(_)

When they returned to the kitchen, Xander nearly laughed. Giles had the expression of someone who had been soundly told off and felt badly about their behavior. Joyce was still giving him a dirty look, making it pretty clear as to the source of Giles' telling-off.

"I must apologize." Giles said, and to his credit, he sounded like he meant it. "I did not stop to think what reactions might result from my revelation."

Xander shrugged. "You didn't do it on purpose, Giles. I'll deal." Eventually. He settled himself back at the table and went back to eating, even if his food was a little cold now. "So ... how are we going to handle Kendra?"

"What you began yesterday would work, and would probably be the wisest course. Just ... be ourselves, don't trash-talk the Council no matter how badly we want to, and where possible, use incontrovertible facts and logic to drive a wedge in her programming." Miss Calendar said. "Then let her do the rest."

"Quite so, and I speak from experience on such matters, as while the ... indoctrination ... that children of Watchers receive in order to get them to become Watchers themselves is less intensive, it does still need to be dealt with." Giles said, a rueful expression on his face. "If she continues to respond positively to those methods, we can later employ more aggressive anti-indoctrination measures to fully rid her of their idiocy. Until then getting more insistent about pointing out just how badly the Council has done by not just her but her predecessors wouldn't go over well."

"No shit." Jon said, then after a half-second's hesitation as he stumbled trying to keep the 'I' between his teeth, he continued. "Jack dealt with this sort of thing a lot, due to Teal'c, the rebel Jaffa, and the Jaffa they tried to convert along the way."

"So what're our plans for today?" Xander wanted to know.

"Training." Jon said. "For all of us. I'm getting better with the crossbow, but not good enough consistently enough yet. Besides, it'll give Kendra a better look at how we operate."

There were nods around the table. "At least Angel's been laying low. THAT particular bit of our weirdness is just not going to end well." Willow said, speaking up for the first time. "Not with her trained to stake first and ask questions never. I wouldn't put it past her to stake him, even with all of us telling her he's off the 'stake on sight' list."

"No shit." Jon said.

There was more agreement around the table. "All right. I'll go see if she's lurking yet." Xander said, finally finishing his food and pushing to his feet. "Of us non-Watcher/Slayer types, she seemed to respond best to me."

"No real mystery why." Joyce said. "It's not like you're rude or antagonistic with her. You're also a boy her age. Something she doubtlessly hasn't been exposed to much, if at all." And while Jon was apparently the same age, he gave off serious 'I want no part of that shit' vibes which, while a challenge to some females, would put a girl in Kendra's position off.

Xander missed most of the implications of that at first, but the other adults (and adults in non-adult bodies) were all having a very hard time keeping straight faces. That kind of clued Xander in after a second or two.

"Wait, you think she's, what, crushing on me?" Xander practically squeaked.

"Probably not yet." Joyce said. "But there's a high likelihood she'll get a crush on you or Jon at some point if we get her head screwed on even halfway straight."

"Oh joy." Jon made a horrific face, then glanced at Xander. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna be pointing her your way, Xander."

Xander squawked in dismay. He understood why Jon would do it - hell, he'd even allow it if Kendra did start trying to latch onto Jon - but that didn't mean he had to like it. Or was at all interested in Kendra, at least not as things stood. Maybe that might change somewhere down the road, if she grew a personality, but for now? Not so much.

"I thought it was a sentinel's job to protect his guide?" He asked, deliberately keeping his tone teasing.

"Not from amorous females it ain't." Was Jon's immediate rejoinder.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 4

(_)(_)(_)

November 2, 1997

Any attempt at training got swiftly derailed when their usual quick check in at the morgue (to find out if any suspicious deaths had happened in the night) resulted in the discovery of Billy Ford's death. Buffy stared at Giles for a moment in incomprehension, stunned that someone she knew from Hemery was in town and, now, dead.

"What the heck was Billy doing here?" Buffy wanted to know. "And more importantly, what got hold of him?"

Giles shook his head. "It does not appear that anything did. At least, there are no obvious signs of violence on him according to what they have checked thus far. They haven't gotten very far as his body was only found an hour or so ago."

"Yeah, but this is Sunnydale. I'm not buying it." Buffy said. "If for no other reason than they attribute vampire bites to accidents with barbecue forks."

About then, Billy's parents arrived to identify their son's body. That's when things got interesting.

"Buffy, what happened?" His father wanted to know.

"I ... have no idea. I didn't even know you guys were in town." Buffy said.

That made Billy's mother frown. "What? But Billy said he wanted to come here, to ... " She took a deep, shaky breath. "To say goodbye."

"Umm ... why would he want to do that?" Buffy asked.

"He has ... had." Mr. Ford explained, looking pained at the past tense. "Terminal brain cancer. We found out about it a month or so after you left. By the time he was diagnosed, it was too late to do anything but make him as comfortable as we could and ... spend time with him. The doctors were saying he only had a month or two left, at his last check-up a week or so ago. That's when he asked to come out here."

Buffy made a horrified face. She and Billy hadn't been all that close - she'd been too invested in being Hemery's version of Cordelia for that - but he'd been a friend, and finding out he was dying of cancer was not a fun time for her. "That's horrible. God, I'm so sorry."

"It ... it's probably best it happened like this." Mrs. Ford said. "Better for his body to give out now rather than him lingering for the next month."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah."

Xander, on the other hand, was giving Buffy A Look. Then again, so was Jon. Xander was pretty sure both of them were picking up on the same thing - if in different ways. Buffy was upset, yes, but Xander could all but see the wheels turning in her head. Eventually they said their goodbyes, and left the morgue. Once they were back at the house, Buffy eyed the rest of the group.

"Something about this stinks." She told them. "I mean, ok, cancer bad. But ... why the hell did he come here? I mean, he was a friend, but we weren't really close. At least, not close enough for a final visit, you know?"

"Well, it was brain cancer." Xander pointed out. "That has to mess with the way you think, you know? Maybe he got confused, or fixated on saying goodbye to you for some reason we'll never understand 'cause he was sick."

"On the other hand." Jon pointed out. "This is Sunnydale. What are the odds it wasn't cancer, but a possession by some demon trying to get here?" He looked over at Giles.

"Nonexistent. Possessions all leave some sort of mark on the victim." Giles said. "Sometimes difficult to perceive, but they exist. Also, the fact that he had terminal cancer would have put most demons capable of possession off. Too much risk he would die on them before they got what they wanted. That said, if he was present at the high school during Buffy's first tangle with vampires, without the willful blinders Sunnydalians put on, he might remember the truth of the situation. It is conceivable he preferred a swift, if violent death to lingering in pain and ... well, whatever else the cancer would have put him through as it worked its way into his brain."

"Yeah, have to say, if I had to choose between a long lingering death or a fast one ... I'd go with fast every time." Willow piped up with a sigh. "But it still leaves us with the question of why he thought there'd be something available here to give him that fast end."

"Well, Buffy's here. And yeah, that wouldn't be enough on its own." Xander said. "But you guys all remember Jim telling us there's hinky gaps in the information available on the 'net when it comes to Sunnydale and its residents. Might have been enough to make him suspicious."

"Unfortunately, in the long run, we really don't have any way of knowing what was going on. Just that his death wasn't a violent one, which eliminates most of the demons in town." Giles said.

(_)(_)(_)

November 3, 1997

The next day was mostly a quiet one, at least at first. But shortly after school let out, the influx of unknown people came to the attention of the Scoobies.

"What the hell? There aren't any conventions or anything, I know, we checked." Buffy said. "So what's with all the twenty-somethings and late teens showing up?"

"Heck if I know." Xander said, then glanced at Jon. "Can you get anything?" He asked.

Jon cocked his head, but after a few moments, he gave it a shake. "Nothing that makes sense. A lot of high spirits, and something about a party later tonight."

"Oh, now that spells trouble." Willow said, frowning.

"Yeah. A nighttime party in Sunnydale? With outsiders in attendance? Something extremely hinky is going on." Buffy said. "We're going to have to pay really close attention when we patrol tonight."

"Gimmie a few minutes and I might get a location on that party." Jon said, then glanced at Xander.

Xander, understanding the request in the look, reached over and gently gripped Jon's shoulder, and started muttering under his breath, providing the anchor Jon needed to use his senses safely if he was doing more than skimming the surface of the surrounding area senses-wise.

Jon gave his head another shake and glanced over at Xander, giving him a nod. "Ok, the party's supposed to be at the Sunset Club."

That had everyone blinking. "Ok, show of hands. Who knows what the heck that is?" Buffy wanted to know. No one raised their hands. "Well shit. Apparently, we've managed to miss a thing or two in our patrols."

"No shit." Xander said. "Well, we'll just tag where this lot is parking it until sundown, then come out and tail them to wherever and go from there."

"That's about all we *can* do." Giles agreed.

They headed back to the Summers' house and spent a few hours doing homework and getting dinner. About an hour before the sun set, they headed down to the basement and grabbed weapons, just in case things went south.

(_)(_)(_)

Across town, Spike had a bit of a problem. The entire court knew about the incoming wannabes. Most of the vampires in the court were all for eating them. Hell, for that matter, Spike was all for it. The only thing that pissed him off more than vampire wannabes was Angel when he was being especially assholish.

That said, Spike was well aware of the fact that if they *did* go in and eat all those idiots, they'd have the Slayer and her cohort on their asses faster than any of them could think. The Slayer might be willing to sort-of tolerate the existence of the court when its existence led to there only being one or two victims a night. It was an improvement over the dozen or so deaths a night when Sunnydale had been up to its ears in minions. She would not, though, continue to tolerate the court if they slaughtered thirty or so people in one night. That kind of idiocy would see her embarking on a quest to wipe them all out posthaste, forthwith, and with extreme prejudice.

What it all boiled down to was a test of just how well Spike could control his court. Tempting as they were, going after the wannabes was just not smart at all. Not this early in the game, with the handful of vampires that had survived the purge still working their way to a level of competence, intelligence, and fighting prowess to handle a confrontation with the Slayer and her cohort. In a few more months, a head-on clash would be possible, and might just work out to Spike's favor, but right now, there wasn't a chance in hell of him winning and he knew it. Not against a Slayer with the sort of backup this one had.

Then again ... there was that second Slayer Lucas had spotted. It'd taken a few days to confirm the girl was actually a Slayer. Spike was still trying to figure out how in the name of hell that had happened. Insofar as he was aware, there had never been two Slayers at once.

And the second Slayer? Was the bog-standard Council bred and trained Slayer. Which meant she would be extremely easy pickings compared to the Summers chit. Even with the two Slayers now hanging out together, the second one would still be an easy mark because she wasn't integrated into the group at all, and still kept to the teachings of the Council.

So. The second Slayer would be unlikely to mess with the wannabes. And tracking her would distract the court from the wannabes. Also, he *had* promised to kill a Slayer. What better time to come through on his promise than this?

"Right. Court meeting, one hour." Spike barked from his 'throne'. "Lucas, make sure everybody's here."

Lucas nodded and took off to spread the word. Silent Bob stepped up to take Lucas' usual spot at Spike's side. "Bob, want you to cull a few from the herd. We're going to be going hunting, but I want some folks to stay behind to protect the lair. I wouldn't put it past the Summers chit to show up here when we're all gone."

Bob nodded, and took off as well to choose those who'd stay behind to guard the lair.

An hour later, the entire court was assembled.

"Right, you lot. Everyone knows we got a bunch of those wannabe wankers in town, looking to become vamps, because we're such gentle, misunderstood souls." Spike said.

Literally every demon in the room laughed at that. Spike smirked.

"I know it's mighty tempting to go eat the lot of them, but I got a better idea. We got two Slayers in town, and that's two too many. We play this right, we'll be down to one Slayer by dawn. The Summers girl'll head for the wannabes, to protect them. She knows they're a big, juicy, tempting target. She'll expect the lot of them to attract hungry demons of some description."

There were a few agreeing nods from the assemblage.

"So we let her waste her time doing that. Meantime, odds are good the second Slayer won't be in on the fun. 'cause she's Council raised and trained. Which makes her stupid as hell and easy pickings." Spike continued.

Ok, so maybe not - the Chinese Slayer Spike had taken on nearly a century ago had been Council raised and trained, and that gal had been a challenge and a half to take down. But Spike knew better than to make it sound like he didn't think he could take this Slayer on without breaking a sweat. Showing even the smallest weakness was just this side of suicidal.

"She'll be wandering about. Alone. So while Summers is busy guarding a bunch of useless wankers, we go and have us a Slayer killing party." Spike finished.

The members of his court seemed to like that idea. Of course, not a one of them had tangled with a Slayer, so they had no clue how tough a Slayer was to kill, even under ideal circumstances. Even when they'd had enough and wanted to call it quits, they didn't roll over and die easily. They had too strong a survival instinct, even when they'd gotten to the point of having a death wish. Which tended to happen to them pretty young thanks to the Council's idiocy. Of course, Spike had only fought and killed two Slayers (one more than any other vampire he knew of had managed)so it wasn't like he had vast amounts of personal experience dealing with Slayers, but he'd made a point of studying them, and that had meant investigating how the Council handled them.

No matter what happened. Whether the second Slayer stuck with Summers or did her own thing, whether Spike managed to kill her or not, tonight was going to be extremely interesting. It would also very likely change the game as it was being played in Sunnydale. Spike was fairly sure that Summers would be pissed about her fellow Slayer being killed, but what that would mean for the court, he didn't know. Nor did he know how the court would react if the second Slayer stuck with Summers, or Spike failed to kill her.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 5

(_)(_)(_)

November 3, 1997

An hour before the sun went down, the Scoobies (minus Angel because the sun was still up, but they would meet him after sundown) gathered in the basement. Their mood was grim and determined. For the moment, Billy Ford's somewhat suspicious death was set aside. They had a bigger concern to deal with. Namely a crapload of people who either had no idea about the Sunnydale nightlife or who didn't care.

Either way, none of the Scoobies were on board with so many people courting death. They were arming themselves accordingly. While there were relatively few vampires left in Sunnydale, they were under the control of a clever, capable leader. One that they didn't know how to predict. Would Spike let his Court go after the party goers? It wasn't a risk they were willing to take.

Even if Spike kept his Court away from the party, there was the rest of the demonic population to worry about. Their numbers had not been reduced at all by the establishment of Spike's Court as far as the Scoobies could tell. And while Spike might be able to intimidate and control some of the weaker non-vampire demons if he so chose, they couldn't depend on him doing that. And Spike absolutely could not intimidate or control the demons with middling or higher strength/power levels. So the Scoobies still had that bunch to worry about regardless.

With all that in mind, they were going out in force, and armed to the teeth. Both Cordelia and Mrs. Calendar were joining them. Xander watched Buffy arm herself and was left wondering how the heck she moved at all, never mind freely, given the number of knives, stakes, arrows, and other weapons about her person (including the crossbow).

Not that he was all that much better. He had the double-headed axe he'd kind of fallen in love with strapped to his back, half a dozen stakes stuffed in various places, and three knives. Jon was almost as burdened down with weapons as Buffy, though he'd opted for grenades instead of knives and hadn't bothered with the more specialized weapons. Giles had opted for a somewhat lighter load, carrying 'only' several stakes and one of the other axes. Willow, Cordelia and Jenny all had two stakes a piece and carried crossbows and very large quivers. In their cases, the stakes were more intended for 'just in case' as none of them were quite as good at close-range combat as the rest of the teens.

No one in the group minded a bit. Close-range heavy hitters were required in this business, but long-range combatants were invaluable. Folks who could reliably shoot targets at range meant a lot fewer demons getting close enough to need the personal touch. Which increased the likelihood that the Slayer (and, in the case of the Scoobies, the 'normal human' assistants) would get out of the fight in one piece.

Yeah, the heavy hitters would have to keep an eye on their long-range partners when a fight got up close and personal, but with the Scoobies, there were enough good close-range fighters to manage that without a problem. And at least with Willow and Mrs. Calendar, there would be continued improvement in their ability to fight close-range, lessening the need to protect them.

Whether or not Cordelia would improve depended entirely on whether or not she continued to hang out with them and want to play a part. She was invested now, but no one knew whether or not the Sunnydale Effect would get hold of her at some point. Heck, none of them were absolutely sure that anyone other than Buffy and Giles would remain involved. Sure, Xander and Willow were on the warpath thanks to having lost Jesse, but … that didn't mean much. Not here. People either forgot about or just seemed to not care overmuch about the deaths that happened thanks to the nightlife. So there was a possibility, however remote, that the two of them would eventually succumb to the same effect.

Xander though, was fairly sure that at least he would be immune to the Sunnydale effect. Thanks entirely to the Guide/Sentinel thing. This was Jon's territory now. He was very aware of the danger, and thanks to being a Sentinel, would remain so. As his Guide, it was severely unlikely that Xander would forget or stop caring.

One last check of weapons and they headed out the door.

It didn't take long to get to where the out-of-towners were staying for the day. It didn't take long after they got there for Jon to be utterly, completely horrified.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” He demanded after less than five minutes of eavesdropping on their conversations.

“I'm almost afraid to ask.” Giles said dryly.

“They know about the nightlife. They're here because of it. They want to be turned into vampires.” Jon said, his expression and tone, despite his best attempts otherwise, failing to completely express his feelings about the discovery.

He got a multi-voiced, utterly horrified “WHAT!!!!!” in response.

“I ain't saying that again. I feel dirty enough having said it once.” Jon objected.

“If it wouldn't give us more work than we already have, I would almost … almost … be tempted to leave them to their desired fate.” Buffy said. Despite her obvious disgust and horror, it was clear she didn't mean that. “When does the party start again?”

“An hour after sundown.” Jon said.

Jon had heard more than that. He'd heard someone mention Ford having organized the whole thing. But he wasn't going to tell Buffy that. At least not tonight. Not right before they had to keep these morons from getting what they wanted. Too big a risk the news would throw her off her game. He'd tell her in the morning, after it was all over.

He'd have to talk to Angel when Angel joined them. Find out how likely Spike would be to go for a bunch of idiots like this in general, as well as if he'd gotten an invitation. Boy, was this going to be fun.

It took most of the remaining time they had until sundown to find the club, which Jon overheard was being hosted in the basement of a warehouse. Unfortunately, that hadn't been much help given how many warehouses there were in town, used or not.

They found spots to stake the area out, then headed for the Bronze, where they'd arranged to meet Angel. He was there by the time they arrived, looking sour and more than a touch reluctant. Jon and Xander shared an eyeroll, but otherwise didn't antagonize Angel.

“We found the club. And figured out what's going on, at least mostly.” Buffy said, her nose wrinkling. “They're here to get vamped.”

Xander cracked up at the look on Angel's face. Clearly, this sort of thing had happened before, and Angel thought such people were utter morons. “Yeah, that was pretty much our reaction when we found out.” He said, for once in complete agreement and harmony with Angel.

“Such groups of people are, unfortunately, fairly common. Especially since vampirism became a popular subject in fiction.” Angel didn't quite roll his eyes, but he came close. “Which encourages a romanticized view of what being a vampire means at best, and a totally incorrect view at worst.”

“And there will always be the crazy, stupid sorts that know exactly what it means and don't care. Like the serial killer groupies. Those idiots know what being a serial killer is and means, and yet they think such people are awesome.” Mrs. Calendar said.

Angel's expression just got more sour. “Let's get this over with.”

“Agreed.” Came the chorus of agreement.

(_)(_)(_)

Halfway across town, Kendra emerged just as the sun came down to hunt down whatever demons she could find. Unbeknownst to her … she was walking straight into a trap.

With a Court full of not just vampires but other demons, it had been incredibly easy for Spike to set up a situation designed to draw in and then tire out a Council-trained Slayer. He just had his people set up an apparent 'nest' near Willy's.

Where Buffy and company tolerated the bar's existence because it kept at least some demons out of trouble, a Council-trained Slayer would have zero tolerance for any demon of any description, under any circumstances. It wouldn't take her long to discover the large amount of demon activity in the area and try to do something about it.

His own people had orders to engage, but not finish the Slayer … and to not get killed themselves. The demons hanging out at Willy's would do as their natures demanded, whether that was run for the hills or try their best to kill the Slayer. Given the usual crowd there, Spike didn't think any of them would manage the latter. They would, however, tire her out. Leaving her easier prey for him.

That was, of course, if everything went according to the best-case plans. Spike had contingency plans for if Buffy and her cohort showed up, and for the very unlikely case that the Council Slayer didn't take the bait. In the former case, the plan was basically 'run for it'. In the latter, it was 'try again another time'. Though who knew when another situation like this would crop up.

The temporary 'nest' had been set up in an empty apartment over one of the stores across the street from Willy's. Spike himself set up in the apartment across the hall so he could keep an eye on things without getting dragged into the melee before he wanted to be.

Then it became a waiting game. Though Spike would give the Council Slayer this much – she was at the very least competent when it came to tracking. It took her less than an hour to make her way to their little trap.

Better still, she looked a little ruffled, an indication she'd stumbled across at least one demon on her way here. So much the better.

(_)(_)(_)

Kendra was beginning to wonder as to Buffy's (or more probably, Giles') sanity. Normally, a Watcher was informed of a demonic incursion somewhere. They then sent their Slayer to that location (or, if it was far away, traveled there with their Slayer) to deal with the situation. Once the incursion was dealt with, the Watcher and Slayer either returned to their home base, or traveled to the next incursion.

The point being that a normal Slayer got at least brief respites between battles. Usually at least one night due to travel requirements, and sometimes as much as a week if there was extensive travel time and preparation required to deal with the incursion. And the incursions were generally fairly small population wise. A single nest of vampires or one or two other demonic beings at most. The actual difficulty of dealing with the incursion varied hugely, of course.

Buffy (or Giles) had set up camp in a town with hundreds, perhaps thousands of demons of varying descriptions. Kendra could sense them everywhere she went, even if she couldn't see them. And by her own admission, Buffy went out and hunted demons every single night. No breaks, no relief. No respites. And according to what her own Watcher told her, Buffy had been doing this for a bit over a year.

Small wonder she'd been killed, then, however briefly. Such an unrelenting grind would wear down even the best Slayer to ever exist eventually. There was, Kendra was beginning to admit, possibly a very good reason she had a backup crew. However heretical such a thing might be. It was entirely due to them that Buffy had not stayed dead, at the very least. Kendra was still inclined to doubt they had much, if any use, in combat. Unenhanced humans might be able to stand against a vampire minion, especially here, but that was a might. And about the only demon they could do that with. She neither cared about nor truly believed the claims that there were fighting techniques an unenhanced human could learn that would make fighting lower-order demons possible.

Kendra had already run across and dispatched a triad of Tagrats, lower order carrion-eater demons that weren't at all picky as to what sort of carrion they ate. At the size of a big dog and disinclined to attacking living beings, they weren't dangerous to a Slayer unless there was a good-sized pack of them. They had very tough pincers that allowed them to break through the hide and bones of pretty much anything they encountered, but most of their unusual qualities lay in their ability to handle and consume the vast majority of demons and animals. Poisonous/acidic flesh, defenses that weren't disabled by the death of the demon or animal in question, and that sort of thing did little to no damage to Tagrats.

Then Kendra spotted what looked like a bar. She was about to ignore it and continue on when an apparently very drunk demon staggered out of the place. Instantly, Kendra went on the attack, pulling not her stake but one of the sturdy normal daggers she carried. She recognized this particular breed of demon as somewhat hard to kill, but fortunately not one that required a specific method of death beyond either sufficient blood loss, other damage, or hacking off its head.

Across the street and watching out the window for Kendra to arrive, Spike smiled. His trap was sprung. Now to see what came of it.

Chapter Text

Lie To Me, Part 6

(_)(_)(_)

Luck, it is said, favors fools and the innocent. Though the problem lies in the fact that it is widely accepted that it is mostly bad luck, rather than good.

Kendra, for all she would argue otherwise, was a bit of both, through no fault of her own. Though she had begun to see there might be a method to the Scoobies' madness, never mind there being another, better way to train a Slayer, or to fight as one, she hadn't even considered emulating said methods.

And bog-standard Council Slayers had one massive flaw. They fought alone. In small fights against one or two or, depending on the opponent, as many as half a dozen mid or low level demons, that wasn't usually a problem.

Against a mid to high level demon or, as in what Kendra found herself facing, an entire, organized Vampire Court or similar? Well, history was littered with the bodies of Slayers who had fallen to such overwhelming forces. Enhanced they might be, but they were still one person against many.

Not that Kendra was making it easy. True to her life-long training, she was a whirling dervish of death and destruction, no part of her still for even a moment, her weapons darting about as if they had lives of their own and were hungry for demon blood.

She killed three demons that came from Willy's Bar, injured five others badly enough they were forced to withdraw, and injured several more demons more lightly but enough to scare them into retreat. Unfortunately, Spike's Court, acting under his orders, proved far more elusive and difficult to even injure, never mind kill. With every strike, whether it missed or not, Kendra expended energy. The longer the fight drew out, the more she tired.

The results were inevitable. She'd taken a few small injuries – nothing more than nicks and bruises – as she'd fought. Now, however, she was tired and frustrated enough that in lunging for one just-out-of-reach demon, she both overextended herself and turned her back on another demon. A demon that took the opportunity to rake vicious claws down her unprotected back.

Kendra, who before this had been fighting in near-silence save for the occasional grunt of effort, yelled in pain and came perilously close to collapsing. Only sheer bloody-minded determination kept her on her feet despite the blood now pouring down her back.

This one time, good luck decided to favor the foolish and innocent.

(_)(_)(_)

Buffy frowned. The night thus far had been exceedingly frustrating. Nothing was happening. Buffy didn't mind this at all, for the record. She might think the people in the warehouse basement were complete and utter idiots for wanting to become vampires, but she didn't want them to die. It was just damned odd.

Some demon somewhere should have picked up on the out-of-townies and spread the word. Some demon or demons should have at least checked things out by now, if not gone through with a full-on attack. Yet nothing had happened.

It was hinky as all hell. And not knowing the whys and wherefores was frustrating. She wasn't the only one to be feeling it, either. Jon, Xander, and – amusingly given their opinions of each other – Angel had been pacing back and forth with gradually increasing energy and irritation since about fifteen minutes after they'd settled in to watch. She expected the growling to start any minute.

Really, as irritating as she found Jon and Xander's attitude towards Angel, and vice versa, the three of them could frequently be very entertaining without meaning to be.

Then, literally mid-step, Jon's head snapped up and he turned toward town proper. A second later he cussed violently, if very briefly.

“Buffy – Willy's. It's Kendra. Go!” Jon snapped.

Buffy didn't hesitate or question. She'd gotten used to him being able to hear etc more than she ever could. She was frequently thankful for it. Nor did she, in this instance, have to wonder why he'd said only her. Angel aside, she was the only one who could get there fast enough to do a damn bit of good. Sending Angel, at least in this case, was just plain stupid. A car, while faster, had to stay on the roads, lengthening the distance between here and there considerably.

She turned and ran.

Now, she blessed the constant patrolling and the resultant intimate knowledge of Sunnydale that resulted. She knew every possible shortcut between herself and Willy's. She pushed herself faster than she'd ever had reason to before, vaulting over cars, fences, benches and anything else that wasn't a building that got in her path without so much as breaking stride, never mind slowing down.

What she saw when Willy's finally came into view made her blood run cold. A dozen or more demons – they were moving around too much for her to count accurately – surrounded a staggering and bleeding Kendra who was, somehow, against all odds, still trying to fight.

Buffy deliberately let out a loud, incoherent noise of rage as she pulled one of the swords she'd armed herself with before they left. Let them know she was coming. Let them see her. At absolute worst, her arrival would distract them and give Kendra a few more precious seconds to live and fight. At best, it'd terrify the holy hell out of them and they'd run for the hills.

The group of demons apparently decided to split the difference. About half of them took one look at an enraged, charging Slayer and ran for their lives. The rest, including one with a shock of white-blonde hair, shifted their attention.

So. This was Spike. And he clearly meant to add at least one more Slayer to his tally.

Not on her watch.

She kept everything she'd been told about him in mind. Intelligent, adaptable, and a fierce and capable fighter. A true Master Vampire despite his relative youth as vampires judged such things. Definitely not someone to underestimate.

Lucky for her and Kendra, Buffy knew she only had to hold out for a few minutes. Giles and the others would pile into their vehicles and break every speed law Sunnydale had getting here. They'd be no more than three minutes behind her.

Buffy gently herded Kendra against an available wall.

“Hang on, you hear me?” She said. “Don't you fucking die. Don't let these assholes win.”

There was no answer beyond a pained wheeze, but that was answer enough. As long as she was breathing, Kendra was alive.

Then the demons – except for Spike, who Buffy noted was watching avidly – closed in.

This was not a kind of fight they'd planned for. Rallying around an injured teammate? Yes. Holding their own, alone? Not so much. Buffy made due mental note to find a way to practice such a thing. They depended a bit too much on the whole group dynamic.

Don't get her wrong. She loved that she wasn't doing this alone. But failing to consider the possibility of having to fight alone while protecting someone was a bit of an oversight. Just because they planned to work in teams of at least three didn't mean they'd always have a fellow able-bodied fighter at their backs.

Buffy mentally marked a line just out of weapons reach of herself. Anything that got on her side of the line? Fair game. Anything that stayed on the other side? Got watched but not attacked. Buffy didn't dare leave Kendra vulnerable for even a second. As badly wounded as she seemed to be, one good swipe would finish her off.

And boy, did the demons ever try to lure her away from Kendra. Stuff that might just have worked on a Council trained Slayer but that Buffy wasn't buying for a second. At the same time, the demons were, wisely, leery of closing with a Slayer that had her back to a wall. The result was something of a stalemate.

Then the gang arrived, horns blaring full blast. The car in the lead didn't even slow down. It just headed straight for the group of demons, forcing them to dive out of the way or get crushed. Jon, who happened to be behind the wheel with Cordelia riding shotgun (and possibly someone in the backseat, Buffy only got a split-second glimpse as they roared past), more or less stood on the brakes, given the loud squealing, smoke, and rubber laid when he did finally stop.

Even as that was happening, the second car came barreling in behind and slammed on its brakes in similar fashion. The rest of the Scoobies proper except for Angel disgorged from it like the world's most deadly clown car, arrows flying before anyone had even managed to get their feet on the ground.

The demons, rather understandably, broke and ran.

Buffy, with all her strength, threw her stake at Spike's retreating back. She was rewarded by an inhuman scream of pain. Although that did tend to suggest she hadn't managed to hit his heart. Ah well, if she couldn't stake him, she'd take hurting him bad. Dealing with that wound was going to be an utter bitch.

“Give me a hand. She's bad. We have to get her to the hospital.” Buffy said as she turned towards Kendra.

Who was, it had to be said, somehow still on her feet. Though Buffy wasn't sure how aware she was. Her eyes were glassy and shocky looking – worse than Cordelia had been over the body parts in the dumpster incident.

Jon and Giles both hustled over, gently divesting Kendra of weapons and easing her towards one of the cars even as they tried to assess her wounds. Xander ran up with their first aid kit and a blanket. The kit was mostly useless – Kendra's wounds were far too extensive for most of what was in there – but the blanket, they used as both a method to stem the bleeding and give at least some tiny measure of warmth to Kendra.

There was a complicated dance to get Kendra into the car. They somehow managed to slide her in so she laid on her stomach on Jon and Xander's laps. Buffy snatched the keys from Giles. This once, her crazy driving was an asset.

She laid rubber towards Sunnydale General.

(_)(_)(_)

It was nearly noon.

Kendra had been hustled straight into surgery when they'd arrived. Jon, bless him, kept them updated as much as he could before the interference of so much sensory information made it impossible to do so, even with Xander's help. The more he trained, the less that sort of thing would be a problem, but for now, he had very definite limits.

It was, in a word, not good. Kendra's back had apparently been laid open from neck to waist down to the bone. By some miracle, she hadn't been eviscerated, but that was the only mercy. If she had been anything other than a Slayer, she probably would have died of her wounds. As it was, she'd be at least a month healing. At least. If she survived.

None of them had bothered to go find Zabuto and let him know Kendra was in bad shape and might die. According to mom (the only one staying at home rather than haunting the hospital), he had yet to show up looking for her.

Buffy wondered if he'd gone home, assuming Kendra had died in the night. He wouldn't have been far from wrong. If the Scoobies hadn't been in town, he'dve been absolutely right. The whole damn thing was all Buffy needed (if she'd needed anything else after other evidence) to know the Council and most of its Watchers were utterly horrifying.

It made her beyond grateful they'd sent her Giles. Even if they'd hoped the match-up would kill her off. It hadn't, he could deal with her and her weirdness, and that was all that mattered.

Finally, the surgeon, looking utterly exhausted, came into the waiting room. Exhausted, Buffy noted with rising hope, but not like he'd lost the fight.

“Miss Young made it through surgery.” He announced, prompting a sigh of relief from everyone. “She is still in critical condition. She has lost a great deal of blood and has we had to remove her spleen and whatever cut her so badly missed her liver by literally a millimeter. If she makes it through the rest of today, she'll be on much more stable footing, but infection is a very real concern.”

“Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?”

“She'll be in the ICU in an hour.”

The surgeon left. Once he was gone, they all of them sagged into their chairs like they didn't have skeletons anymore.

“Thank fucking god.” Jon said. “That was too fucking close. I'm going to call Sam. Won't be able to heal her completely right now, not with her under so much observation, but enough to stabilize her and make sure she makes it. Sam can do the rest once we get her out of here.”

“Thanks Jon.” Buffy said, meaning it on more than one level.

He grinned at her, then headed off to make a phone call no one around here should overhear.

“All in favor of stealing Kendra from the Council?” Xander asked.

Even Cordelia raised her hand.

“The motion carries. Giles, you get to tell Zabuto. I don't trust myself to not punch his teeth down his throat.”

Giles shot Xander a look. “And you assume I will not?”

That made Buffy huff a laugh. “More like we think you'll do something a lot more painful and permanent if he gets uppity.” She said.

Chapter Text

Interlude: Kendra and the Scoobies

(_)(_)(_)

November 5, 1997

The first thing Kendra became aware of was pain. Her back felt like it was on fire. The second thing that registered was: Oh. Wait. I'm alive. That's … good? Then, as the memory of why, exactly, she was in so much pain resurfaced, she amended that to 'good, but surprising as all hell.' Though she didn't put it in such uncouth terms.

She had only the haziest memories of Buffy arriving out of nowhere, but clearly having a second, doubtlessly fresher Slayer had clearly turned the tide of the fight. She'd have to thank Buffy later.

Given that she was in pain and fuzzy-headed, it took her a few minutes to realize that she was laying on her stomach. Yet her face wasn't mashed into pillows or the like. That was odd enough to get her to peel her eyes open, if only a crack.

She was staring at the floor. Why was she staring at the floor? And a mirror. Which, after another minute or two, she realized, was set up with other mirrors to allow her to see more than the shoes and ankles of people as they approached where she was.

Huh. Weird.

She must have made a noise or twitched or the like, because a man's voice (belatedly identified as Giles) broke through the quiet beeping of various bits of medical equipment.

“Kendra! You're awake. Good.” Giles sounded deeply relieved. Which was odd. Nice, but odd. “I'll just fetch the doctors.”

A few moments later, several more people came in the room. They introduced themselves and checked her over while asking a few questions. Then one of them moved something and tucked it into her left hand.

“This is the pump for your pain medication. I just pressed it to give you some, since you said you're in pain. It's fast-acting so you should start to notice a difference in a minute or two. It will probably make you sleepy and a little fuzzy-headed. I strongly urge you to click the button on that pump whenever the pain gets past a five. It's easier to keep pain under control if you don't let it get bad before re-medicating it. And you'll heal better and faster for not being in pain.”

Once the doctors were gone, Giles spoke up again. “We are arranging to care for you 'at home'.” He told her. “Your healing speed would be notable even on its own, but we've been helping it along. Once you can be transported, we plan to heal you entirely.”

Kendra blinked in confusion. What? How? It made no sense. How could they help her healing along, never mind heal her entirely? Also, where was Mr. Zabuto? Unfortunately, at that point the pain medication caught up with her, and she slipped off to sleep.

(_)(_)(_)

Buffy poked her head in a couple minutes after Kendra dozed back off. “How is she?”

“She seemed fine.” Giles said. “In a bit of pain when she woke, which is hardly surprising, but otherwise fine.”

They'd gotten lucky, and Jon had caught Samantha Carter while she was in the mountain, rather than off-world somewhere. She'd hustled right over and patched Kendra up just enough to ensure she'd make it, which had been a chancy thing the day before. It'd be another couple days at least before she could be moved and they could heal her fully without drawing undue attention from the hospital staff.

Some things not even the usually oblivious Sunnydale residents could ignore. A girl going from near death to completely healed in a day or two was one of them.

They still hadn't told Zabuto. Zabuto still hadn't come looking for or asking about his charge, despite knowing she was to spy on them, making them the best place to start looking for her if he were so inclined. Jon had been muttering almost nonstop about booby traps and guns and what Giles presumed were plans to … encourage … Zabuto to go away if he did show up at some point. Not that Giles disagreed, but the Scoobies had made it very clear that they were keeping Kendra, and with that came rather a lot of protectiveness. Jon was just the most vocal as to his plans. Giles knew Buffy well enough by now to know she was plotting. Xander went without saying, with Jon on the warpath.

Giles was honestly expecting Jim and Blair to show up in order to act as backup. He would not put it past Xander to have called them in the wake of the other night's close call. Joyce was certainly up in arms. Giles almost hoped Zabuto did finally approach the Summers' house, just while he was there to enjoy the fireworks.

“Oh, that's good. Thank goodness. I'll tell the others. Maybe Jon will stop pacing and planning murder and mayhem.” Buffy said.

“I fear that you shouldn't count on that.” Giles said.

Buffy gave an amused snort. “Yeah, I kinda got that memo, but a girl can dream.” And she slid back out of the hospital room.

The gang spent the rest of the day taking turns visiting Kendra, who was in and out of sleep and varyingly lucid thanks to the pain medication she was on. At least, Giles reflected, she'd been willing to take it. Some wouldn't have.

(_)(_)(_)

November 6, 1997

It took more than a little bit of obfuscation, tap dancing and outright lying, but they managed to get Kendra released the next day at noon. She was still in a lot of pain and had over three hundred stitches in her back – not to mention a missing spleen, among other damage – but the faster they got her out from under hospital observation, the faster she'd be back to normal.

Several very fluffy pillows behind her allowed Kendra to sit up in the wheelchair. The transfer to the car was a bit tricky, but they managed it, and then they were away.

Sam was waiting for them at the Summers' house.

Kendra frowned at her, looking more curious than upset. “Who are you?”

“My name's Samantha.” Sam told her. “I'm a friend of Jon's.” True, sort of. “For the record, I'm aware of what you are and what you do, so you don't have to try to talk around how you got injured or anything like that. I'm here to heal you up.”

“This, I do not understand. You use a spell?” Kendra asked.

“No. Special technology. That's really all I can tell you.” Sam said. “Other than I can promise you it won't hurt. Why don't you let Buffy help you lay down on the couch?”

Kendra eyed Sam warily, but allowed it. Apparently, the desire to not hurt was overriding her caution.

It didn't take Sam long to heal up Kendra's ravaged back. Less than halfway through, the pain evidently receeded enough for Kendra to let out a sigh of relief.

“There you go. That should do it. I'd go slow for the next couple days – your back might be a bit sensitive. You're also still minus your spleen, in case you're wondering. Healing wounds is one thing. Regenerating entire organs … not something we can do. Yet.” Sam said.

Well, they could, but it involved a sarcophagus, and they didn't have one of those on hand.

“Thank you.” Kendra didn't seem to be able to stop herself from patting herself down and – very gingerly at first – turning and stretching a bit. “Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome.” Sam said, then with more than a little amused asperity and resignation. “Try not to get yourself torn up so badly you need my help again, ok?”

“I cannot promise that, but I will do my best.” Kendra said.

“That's really all any of us can do.” Sam glanced over at the others. “Need me to stick around?”

“Need? No. Want, however, is something else entirely.” Giles said. “You and the others are always welcome here.”

Sam chuckled. “The thought's appreciated, but I better get going. We have a trip to go on tomorrow.” Because while she knew about Kendra, the reverse was definitely not true, so 'talking around' was required on Sam's end.

“Good luck and have fun then, Sam.” Jon called from the basement.

“See you lot around sometime.” Sam called, and headed for the door.

Once she was gone, Giles turned back towards Kendra.

“There is something we would like to talk to you about, Kendra.” He said. “We … all of us … would like you to stay with us.”

Kendra frowned slightly, looking like she was having a time of it as regarded her training. 'Obey the Watcher' was Rule Number One for Council-raised and trained Slayers. Kendra's problem was that she now had two Watchers telling her things. Granted, Zabuto wasn't here at the moment, but the point remained.

“Why?” She finally asked.

“Because you came to within a minute or two of dying, even with our intervention. You would have died if we hadn't intervened.” Giles said, then lifted a hand. “And yes, had you died, another Slayer would have been called.”

Perhaps. There was no knowing for sure right now whether or not Kendra's death would call another Slayer, if that power still resided with Buffy or if they both could call another Slayer upon their deaths. Rather understandably, none of the Scoobies was in a hurry to find out what the deal was there.

“But that is a ridiculous waste. You are here, and we are willing to work with you, if you are willing to give our way a chance.”

Kendra visibly thought that one over for a while. Giles left her to it for a bit, heading into the kitchen to help Joyce with dinner. A little before it was ready, the Scoobies came thundering up from the basement en masse.

“Hey! Kendra! You're looking a whole heck of a lot better.” Jon greeted. “C'mon, dinner's almost ready. Trust me, you don't want to miss Joyce's cooking.”

Kendra followed them into the kitchen. “Has Mr. Zabuto asked for me?” She asked.

“No.” Giles said. “We've not seen him since before you were attacked.” Unstated but understood was the fact that Zabuto could easily have checked with the Scoobies if he was worried about Kendra. His lack of checking in was … irksome … to say the least, to Giles.

Kendra frowned. Old training was more than slightly at war with new information and experiences. She had seen the care and concern Giles had for Buffy and the other teens. Her old training scoffed, called Buffy weak for needing such supervision, and Giles ineffectual as a Watcher for indulging her. Among other thoughts along similar lines.

And yet. For all she'd been raised from the cradle to expect a certain treatment, Kendra was still human. There was a part of her that saw the care and concern and envied it. Wanted it for herself.

“If .. if I were to remain, where would I stay?” Kendra asked after several long minutes and several forkfuls of delicious food.

“With me.” Giles said. “Joyce is already housing Jon and Xander, and living with me would be something you are familiar with. But you would spend the bulk of your time here. As you know, our training, research, and post-battle cleanup facilities are all here, so we spend most of the evening from just after dinner until we head out here on weekdays, and the entirety of the weekends.”

Kendra considered that. If she did decide to stay here with the group, living with Giles would, yes, be a spot of something familiar and reassuring in the midst of the madness. But the question still remained – did she want to stay?

Old training warred with new knowledge. Pros and cons got listed, and shifted around about a dozen times in her head. In the end though, what won was the one thing every human had, to greater or lesser degrees.

The drive to survive.

Doing it the Council way had almost seen her killed. Had, in point of fact, seen an uncountable number of her sister Slayers killed over the millennia. The possibility that doing it Giles' way would still see her dead existed. But she'd seen this group in action. She'd heard the story of how Buffy had survived a fight that otherwise would see her dead. Kendra had experienced a similar phenomenon herself. She might still end up dead, but … Kendra was willing to take the gamble that her death would be a bit longer in coming than it otherwise would have been.

“I think I will stay.” Kendra told them finally.

Which announcement got triumphant whoops from the teens.

“Welcome to Team Scooby, Kendra. You won't regret it.” Buffy said. “I know we have to come off as a little crazy, but … yeah. You won't regret it.”

Kendra smiled a little. “I have already benefited.” She admitted. “Though … Scooby? What is that?”

“Oh. Oh man. We're going to have to introduce you.” Xander said. “Trying to explain it will definitely make you think we're nuts. So you're going to have to see it for yourself. But in brief, it's a reference to an animated TV show. You'll understand why we call ourselves that once you've seen some of the episodes.”