Liz climbed as quietly as she could onto the roof outside her bedroom. If her mom heard her she would kill her. Or worse, ground her. And having just left Max, and already missing him so much that her body ached, she knew
being grounded would just kill her dead. So she scaled up the fire escape ladder as quiet as a mouse and then let out a startled scream when she reached the roof.
Three people were waiting for her, two men and a woman, who rounded on her when she reached the top. They'd been looking in her bedroom window when she surprised them. The taller of the two men looked at the woman and she nodded.
"It's her," she said.
They all started toward her and Liz took a step down the ladder, preparing to flee.
"No, don't," the shorter, lankier of the two men said, his voice laced with an English accent. "We're here to help you."
"Really," Liz said, glancing down to see if Max's Jeep was still in the street but it was gone. And it was so late that no one else was around either.
"Really," the woman said, "and for only a small fee."
"Cordelia," the Englishman scolded.
"What?" she replied.
The other man wasn't saying anything and he was the one that was really worrying Liz. He had dark hair and dark eyes like his companion but he was much bigger, and more intimidating. She carefully lifted her foot off the
rung beneath her right foot and was preparing to scamper down when he finally spoke.
"Listen," he said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. "You need to come with us."
"Uh, no," she said and she started down the ladder as quickly as she could. But she had only time to blink when suddenly he was right in front of her as if he'd flown the distance between them. Liz jerked away from him and
one hand slipped off the rung of the ladder. She fell back, wrenching the arm still holding onto the ladder, while her feet dangled beneath her. The man reached out and grabbed her. A terror of him surged through her that was greater then the prospect of falling off of the roof. He started lifting her onto the roof with very little effort and Liz tried to break free. She tried yanking free from him and he lurched a little.
"You're going to kill yourself!" He shouted.
But Liz couldn't help it and a second later she knew why. Right before her eyes his face--transformed. Where once there was a handsome, if brooding, face of a human being, there were now fangs and ridges and yellow eyes.
Liz screamed and swung away from him just as he pulled her onto the roof. With the momentum from her struggle she hit the concrete with an agonizing slapping sound, just before everything flickered out in front of her eyes.
* * * * *
Max was half way home when he turned his Jeep around and went back to see Liz. They'd just had an incredible date and he'd only left her two minutes ago, but already it seemed like an eternity. Saying goodnight to her was
becoming harder and harder to do. He remembered the night they'd spent together in the desert. Waking up with her in his arms had been one of the greatest moments of his life. Of course, after they got back and found both
of their parents waiting for them, there had been a price to pay. But it didn't matter to him. Nothing was more important then Liz.
He pulled to a stop about a block away from the Crashdown. The Jeep was noisy and he didn't want to alert anyone that he was there. He started down the block, wondering exactly why he was going back. But he knew why. He was almost there when something hit him. Hard.
The next thing he knew he was flat on his back, staring up at an attractive blond who had one fist pulled back to pummel him with and the other wrapped around his throat.
"Ford," she hissed.
He opened his mouth to object but she'd cut off his windpipe. She didn't look much taller then Liz, and she was just as petite, but she was so strong that the edges of his vision were going black. He grabbed her wrist with both hands while he shook his head in denial.
She lifted him up and flung him toward the lamp post.
"You should have stayed dead," she said.
Max backed away. He lifted his hand to throw up a force field. He didn't want to use his powers but she was going to kill him. But when he stumbled to his knees she stopped. She tilted her head and looked at him more closely. Max scrambled to his feet.
"I don't know who you think I am but I'm not him," he rasped.
She blinked then and the cold mask of anger vanished so quickly that he could almost swear it hadn't been there at all. She put her hands over her mouth and gasped. Suddenly she looked much younger, almost innocent.
"Oh my god, you're not are you?"
He shook his head slowly. He was feeling lightheaded from hitting the ground.
"I'm so sorry!"
Max could scarcely believe he was talking to the same girl who, only seconds before, had been trying to squeeze the life out of him. She came up to him, and he instinctively backed up. The movement sent him spiraling to the ground. The world was spinning so much he thought he might throw up. She was at his side instantly. She lifted him up without any effort and slung his arm around her shoulder.
"Come on, I'll get you home," she said.
* * * * *
Max was still replaying the surreal scene in his head the next morning. He couldn't understand how a young woman half his size and weight could just send him flying like that. He may have really believed that he had dreamed it if he hadn't woke up with five small bruises around his neck. He'd healed himself so there was no evidence of the pounding he took.
He walked into the Crashdown, still wondering, when he ran into the young woman who'd tried to kill him the night before.
She was walking toward a booth and she walked straight into his chest.
"I'm sorry--" Then she looked up and recognized him. "Oh god."
Max took a step back.
"Hi," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Hi," she said, and then she started to babble. "I really don't run around attacking people. Well I do," she amended but then added quickly: "but only if they deserve it. But the point--the point is you so didn't deserve it. It's just that you looked so much like him, especially in the dark."
"Ford?"
"Yeah."
"Well I'm glad that I'm not him."
"Me to. But you don't seem any worse for it at least. I thought for sure I'd have left some mark."
She looked at his neck and Max tilted his head uncomfortably.
"Well I don't bruise very easily."
"Good. That's a good thing. I--I'm Buffy by the way." She put her hand out to him and he shook it.
"Max. Max Evans."
"It's nice to meet you. Really. Don't take the trying to kill you thing personally."
"Thanks. I think."
Then a tall man in a suit walked up behind her.
"Buffy, I--" Then he saw Max. "Good lord. You're--"
"No," Buffy said, "he's not."
"But the resemblance--"
She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him away, smiling at Max apologetically as she lead him toward a booth.
Max was shaking his head in amusement when Liz's mom and dad came out of the kitchen.
"Max!"
He shot his head in their direction. There was something in Mr. Parker's voice that was unmistakable. Fear.
"Max, have you seen Liz?"
"Not since last night."
"You did bring her home then?"
"Yeah, of course I did."
Liz's mom walked up and she looked pale and worried.
"Well she's not here now and she didn't sleep in her bed last night."
Max felt the blood drain out of his face. He didn't notice Buffy or her friend watching him carefully from their booth.
* * * * *
When Liz woke up her head was pounding so hard her eyes started to water. She lifted her hand to her forehead and found a damp cloth on it. She smiled because her mom always did that when she didn't feel well.
Then she remembered what happened.
She shot up in the cot she was laying on and she thought she was going to pass out again. The room rocked at a sickening angle before her eyes and she felt her brain shift back and forth in her skull.
"She's awake," she heard someone say and she heard shuffling but it was a few seconds before someone actually came to her side.
"Do be careful, you took quite a blow to your head," the English guy said.
Liz turned her head slowly in his direction and found the bespectacled Englishman from the night before.
"I remember," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "It was you who did it."
"Actually, you did it yourself." Liz looked up and the brunette woman was holding out a tea cup for her. "But why quibble over details? Here drink this, it'll make you feel better."
Liz stared at her a moment and then slowly took the cup. Rat poison would make her feel better at that moment so she didn't see any harm in tasting the tea. She sipped at it while the couple stared at her.
"We know this must be very scary for you, but we are here to help you," the Englishman said.
"I can tell," Liz said with a small nod.
He sighed.
"My name is Wesley, this is Cordelia. As soon as our friend returns we promise to explain everything to you."
"Friend?"
Then she remembered the man who's face suddenly snarled and hissed and horrified. The tea cup rattled in her hand. The woman reached out and steadied her hand.
"I feel sick," Liz mumbled.
"I told you to let me make the tea," Wesley chided his companion.
"What do the English know about tea?" She replied. She helped Liz to her feet. "Come on, the bathroom is this way."
Liz looked around her as they made their way slowly toward the bathroom. They were in a warehouse of some sort. Cordelia led her to a private bathroom and Liz lurched inside and slammed the door behind her.
Liz was sick. But that wasn't going to stop her from climbing out the window of the small bathroom. She balanced precariously on the toilet seat, hoisted herself through the window without throwing up, but landed like a broken doll on the pavement below. She laid there for a moment just trying to get her strength back. But then she heard voices from the window and she forced herself to her feet and started running.
The entire thing felt like a very bad dream. She was trying to run fast but it didn't feel like she was going anywhere. Her head felt thick and throbbed. She lurched along and ran headlong into someone. She reeled back and landed on her rump.
"Hey, you shouldn't be throwing yourself around like that. You might hurt somebody."
Liz looked up and saw a tall black man with a shaved head and serious brown eyes.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "But I need help."
He leaned over and lifted her up into his arms. She was comforted by the fact that he struggled with her weight, unlike the scary guy from the night before.
"Well you're in luck, because that's what we do."
"We?" she mumbled.
Her vision was growing dim again but she was aware of the fact that he was taking her back inside the warehouse. Wesley and Cordelia came to an abrupt stop when they entered.
"Lose something," the guy holding her asked.
Liz started crying.