Rune

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin'.

Timeline: after 'A New Man.'

The Dove, the Serpent, and the Dagger

Rupert Giles's Apartment Complex:

Giles, the retired Watcher in all his splendor, sat upon his couch, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He had just been freed of his demonian parlor a day ago and wanted to take a few moments to relax, knowing that the odds were that he wouldn't get many more of them. It was nearing the time when the Big Bad, as his children called it, tended to rear its ugly head.

Sure enough, not a moment after this thought passed through his brain, his front door came open.

"Thank you for knocking," he quipped to his Slayer as she rumbled through his house.

"I don't have time," she seemed pissed, "Giles, we have a problem. Have you ever heard of the Rune Stone?"

"…Yes, as a matter of fact, I have," the Rune Stone was an ancient relic, intended for use by practiced mages in translating texts from Arabia that spoke of healing magics, some of which were powerful enough to replace a missing limb, "Why? Has Willow been inquiring about it?"

"No," she sighed and said, "Today, Xander was with us for lunch and this guy in a suit came over and starting chatting us up, told us about how he knew I was a Slayer, and he asked Xander to speak with him. I tried to keep him safe from the guy but, he wouldn't listen, machoistic idiot, and he went to speak to him. Well, being the good friend that I am, I snuck off and spied on him. Turns out, whoever that guy was, he wanted Xander to find something called the Rune Stone. I think he has a magic spell all over Xander."

"Why," Giles asked, already confirmed in his belief over this matter.

"Because, he was just acting so…un-Xander-like."

"So, you didn't believe that he might have had a bad day?"

"How could he? He doesn't do anything all day."

"…" he counted to ten, "Buffy, there are three things that I noticed in your paraphrasing. One: you feel that Xander is a child in constant need of protection, when even mothers more concerned than you have let go already. Two: you believe that he is being machoistic, as you put it, when he has never once displayed such a thing. He's too shy for it. And, three, the sheer fact that you automatically assume that he is in danger is simply underestimating him. He really deserves better than that.

"Also, the Rune Stone cannot possibly entail any danger. All it is is, as you have yourself once said, a decoder ring. Its purpose is to translate ancient healing spells, all of which require white magic and, therefore, cannot be used by demons. Now, while I understand your concern over Xander, it really is none of your business. This man Xander met knows of your involvement in the world as the Slayer, most likely due to whatever profession he has...he could be a mage, for all you know. If Xander wishes to involve you in his affairs, then it's his choice. If not, then it's also his choice. Lord knows you do it enough with me, why can't you just let him do it with you?"

With that, the irate Englishman stood up and left his Slayer as he went outside.

The Dove, the Serpent, and the Dagger

Ambrosia:

Xander sighed as he entered the club. He hadn't been here since he was in middle school. Now, here he was, a grown man. Kind of sad.

It was dark, as usual, with heavy metal blasting down into his eardrums. There was no stage for a band, they never needed one. Ambrosia was unlike most clubs. Here, only a select few were welcomed inside, and those select few were amongst the most dangerous people on the planet. A few beings were amongst the most dangerous in their dimensions. Nice place.

Most of the people inside the club were dressed inside of gothic attire, with only few exceptions. He was one of the few, dressed inside of a pair jeans and a simple white shirt. The clubbers knew instinctively to draw away from him…only those without reason for fear would dare walk inside without a proper disguise...plus, they could easily sense his mark. Most were like him, with a few exceptions. The young man walked to the bar and sat down.

He waited for a moment, remembering, before the barkeep came to him. She was dressed inside the casual gothic wear, but there was one mark that stood out well against her black clothing…a red sphere, with a dove in the center, was tattooed along her neck. She was one of them. He didn't like her already.

"What can I get you, lover," she cooed to him in a playful voice…he knew it was only because he had both his short sleeves down…if he rolled his left sleeve up, then she would instantly back away in fear.

"…I don't know the pass code," she looked at him in surprise, "And the only reason why I'm here is because Matthew asked me to be here. If you know what's good for you," he caught her eye and held it tightly with his own, forcing her to recognize him for what he was, "You'll let me in right now."

Her heart was in her throat…almost literally. Still, she mustered enough courage to nod and gently placed her hand beneath the countertop. She caressed it for a moment, till she found the button…and applied just enough pressure on it to send him away.

The Dove, the Serpent, and the Dagger

Buffy Summers walked into the club with a little bit of fear. She had tailed Xander from his house, knowing that, in spite of Giles's little lecture towards her, she had to look after him. He was just a normal human, after all. He couldn't take care of himself. She had been surprised, though, when she had seen him enter the bleak club near the outskirts of town. She was just getting a vibe off the place…it spoke of all kinds of evil and danger. Yet, he had walked inside without anything akin to fear. It had simply strengthened her belief that he was under a spell.

She entered the club slowly, grateful that there hadn't been a bouncer, and stopped to get her head together before she could even get off the landing and go down the stairs. There was almost no color in the room, and even that was so dark that it could have been black. Everyone inside was dressed in gothic wear, black leather, and the like. Angel (She ignored the twinge of pain that she always had whenever she thought of her lover…ex-lover) would have liked it.

She gathered even more of her already dwindling courage and walked down the stairs onto the first floor. She noticed, immediately, the glares that were coming her way. She also noticed that everyone tended to go out of their way to avoid Xander, but, with her, they simply did everything they could to keep her from walking deeper inside. As she crossed the dance floor, people began to bunch up, apparently to keep her away, forcing her to squeeze by and, once or twice, even to use her Slayer strength to get through.

She stopped before reaching the bar to try and listen to what Xander was telling the barkeeper. She couldn't, however, not over the heavy metal. All she could tell was that the woman had a look of complete and unadulterated fear on her face. Why would she be afraid of Xander?, she asked herself, He can't do anything.

She sighed in frustration and moved to keep going, only to walk right into a man as he passed by. He fell to the floor, spilling all the drinks he had been carrying. Buffy resisted the urge to drop to the ground and help him up. She had more important things to deal with right now. She made to move on, only to stop as she saw that Xander's seat at the bar was now vacated.

"What," she asked herself, "Where did he go?"

She began to move, fully intending on finding out what had happened to her friend, when she felt a powerful hand fall against her shoulder. She turned around, intending on shouting at whoever it was that dared to try and stop her, but felt all her words die in her mouth as she stared up into the mountain that was before her.

The man was at least seven feet tall, with dark skin, and a body that told of years of physical conditioning. She wouldn't have been surprised to find that he had been in the military. He was dressed in the ritualistic black garb, and was glaring down at her. She forced herself to remember that she was the Slayer, that she could take him if he decided to start something.

"You're paying for those, little girl," he said to her, his voice deep and gravelly.

"As soon as I find out what happened to my friend," she lied, fully intending on walking out of the club with her money intact.

"If your friend was that guy sitting up at the bar, I'd let it go," he said to her.

"Why," she asked, feeling her ire growing as she felt her inferiority begin to grow, she never did like feeling like she was less than what she was.

"He's done gone, girl," the mountain said to her, "Go and pay for our drinks, then get out of here…before one of us decides to kick you out."

Completely pissed off, the Slayer pulled back and let loose a powerful punch…only to gasp in shock as the mountain of a man caught her fist in his own hand.

"You punch like a girl," he snarled at her and he let loose with his own fist.

She tried to duck it but, instead, she felt the powerful blow strike her directly between the eyes. In an instant, the Slayer fell to the ground, the world swimming around her, before she fell into darkness.

It was two hours later when she woke up outside the club, with almost no memory as to why she was there.