LESSONS LEARNED:
Buffy's head hurt. Her shoulder hurt more. Her arm hurt. In fact, the whole left side of her torso hurt. She slowly opened her eyes to see the furry feline countenance of Dr. McCoy looking down at her. He had a light pen and was trying to test her optic response.
"I should have opened the next door on the left." She groaned, rubbing her head.
"Correct," Professor Xavier said from several feet away where he waited with Scott standing beside him. "All the powers in the world won't do you much good if you get overconfident and ignore them, Buffy."
"Ouch." She reached up to shield her eyes from the overhead lighting. "Lesson learned. Last thing I remember was this huge metal fist. What hit me?"
"A huge metal fist," Scott deadpanned.
He was rewarded with one of Buffy's "if looks could kill, you'd be so dead" glares. She lacked the strength and conviction to maintain it for very long, though. "Guess I deserved that. So what's the verdict, Doc?"
Dr. McCoy was perched on a tall stool, his toes clutching the edge for balance. "Were I to venture a guess, I'd say you have the ability to bend probability. The power seems to be part sensory, part telekinetic, part telepathic, even part precognitive. It also seems to be completely subconscious and instinctive. We've always encouraged students here to trust their instincts. That would seem to be doubly appropriate in your case."
She frowned. "If this power is supposed to make me lucky, why do I always seem to be stumbling into trouble?"
Hank laughed. "I never said you were lucky, my dear. I said you twist probability. It could be that it works both ways; depending on your goals. In the Danger Room, you were focused on reaching the exit. You found it in record time. An unpleasant fact about being Slayers is that even under normal conditions, we're always on alert for trouble. We have to be. You happen to be uncannily good at finding it."
"Oh . . . joy . . . . Lucky me. Any other good news?"
Xavier smiled. "Simply because it's subconscious now, doesn't mean you can't learn to control it with training. I can't promise you that you'll be able to do so. Sometimes instinctive powers prove resistant to conscious control. We have had some success with other students, however. Even if you're never able to fully control the power, you should be able to achieve some measure of control. At the very least we can teach you to identify and translate the messages your subconscious is sending you."
"And until I do, I'm a walking trouble magnet?" She sat up a little shakily and swung her legs over the edge of the examination table.
"It's not all bad, kiddo." Scott tried to lift her spirits a little. "Now that we know what you do, I can already think of a dozen or more ways we can put it to use in the field."
Xavier's tone was supportive as he approached a little closer. "I'm already teaching Cordelia how to control her gifts better. Having someone else to work with should be good for her. Her isolation concerns me."
Scott shook his head behind the Professor's back, but should have known better. "You disagree, Mr. Summers?"
"Actually, sir." He cleared his throat nervously. "I'm afraid I do. Cordelia's isolation is entirely self-imposed. She's gone out of her way to alienate every member of the team. The girl isn't happy here and she seems determined to make everyone around her as unhappy as she can. I'm also concerned that the debilitating nature of her . . . visions could make her a serious liability in the field."
"Valid points." Only Buffy saw Xavier's smile. "I've been troubled by the same issue. I'm not willing to give up quite yet, however. I believe the worst drawbacks of her powers are caused by her resistance to using them."
He paused, then turned to face Scott. "I want you to join Buffy, Cordelia and I in their training sessions. Your own sensory abilities are close enough to their respective subconscious powers that you might be able to assist in their training."
"I'll be happy to help, sir." Scott's response was surprisingly genuine.
Giles voice came over the infirmary intercom. "Professor Xavier, Dr. McCoy, would you join Mr. Logan and myself in the library? I believe we've found the information we're looking for."
"Can I come too," Buffy asked. "I'd like to know what I'm getting into."
He nodded. "I believe you should join us as well, Scott. I would appreciate your feedback."
THE MASTER'S PLAN:
When they entered the library, they found Logan and Giles pouring over a thick, dusty folio. Willow sat nearby, working diligently on one of the library computers. Giles was more concerned than Scott had seen him in all the years he'd been at the school. Logan, on the other hand, although no less concerned, had shades of expectation and anticipation in his aura.
"What have you learned," Xavier asked.
"We know what the Master is attempting to accomplish." Giles directed their attention to a passage written in a language Buffy didn't recognize, but with woodcut pictures that definitely seemed imposing. "The signs are perfect for an ancient ritual called the Harvest of Blood and Power; incredibly obscure. The performer of the ritual chooses one subject, called the Vessel to go forth and drink the blood of his enemies. For every enemy so drained, the caster, not the Vessel, gains power. It would require a frighteningly high number of victims and they all must be slain in the course of one night, but if completed, the ritual could give the Master sufficient power not just to free himself, but to complete the apotheosis he was attempting when he originally became trapped."
He paused, then turned half way to Buffy, but still addressed Xavier. "As for Selene's part in this, the conjunction of stars on that night would also add potency to any ritual or blood rite performed. I doubt it's integral to her plans, but it most definitely would be advantageous."
He removed his glasses and cleaned them again. "The conjunction combined with the proximity to the Hellmouth, the full moon, even the date, furthermore, are likely among the reasons for the influx of demons and other creatures the Council and our friends in the Underground have been concerned about. I believe the proper term would be 'a perfect storm'."
Buffy nodded. "At least we know where it's all going to start . . . at the Bronze."
"Part of it," Scott corrected. "She said it felt like she was seeing more than one event. The Bronze is holding its annual 'End of the Summer Party' Friday night. Nearly every teenager in town is going to be there. If this Harvest needs a lot of blood, that's going to be the place to be . . . assuming they can get through Angel's wards."
Logan disagreed. "It'd also be damn attractive t' Selene. That witch n' I crossed paths more'n a few times. Fits her style; drawin' a hero out by attackin' th' folks they protect. Puts 'em at a disadvantage. They haveta focus on protectin' innocent lives insteada focusin' on th' enemy; makes 'em vulnerable. She even tried it on me . . . once."
Scott wasn't sure he wanted to know. "What happened?"
Logan sneered. "She found out th' hard way that I'm no hero an' my friends ain't helpless. She escaped with her skin an' her tail between her legs. Took her nearly three years t' heal an' rebuild her forces. That's why th' vamps in that attack back in LA were all newbies. She lost her best forces tryin' t' kill me. She's havin' t' improvise an' that ain't her strong suit."
"It doesn't make her any less dangerous, however," the Professor noted.
"Not even a little bit," Logan agreed. "If she can't outclass us, she'll try t' outnumber us. That vamp Red scanned figured the Queen has as many as several hundred vamps at her disposal an' they're all convergin' on Sunnydale."
Buffy nodded. "So we stakeout the Bronze and deal with whatever happens there. If we don't stop this Harvest thingy, whatever Selene's up to won't matter much."
Logan agreed. "When th' quake trapped him, Heinrich was tryin' t' transform himself inta some kinda super demon; somethin' that could control every bloodsucker in the world; vampires an' demon's alike. Compared t' that, Selene's small change."
"El Rey del Sangre Negro," Giles clarified; "King of the Black Blood. It's a truly terrifying creature. To the best of my memory the ritual has only been completed once; during the Inquisition; by a fallen Templar. It took the sacrifice of an entire order of monks and several Slayers to stop it. It was one of the events that helped lead to the destruction of the Templars."
Buffy raised her hand, still a little self-conscious. "I thought the Templars were destroyed because the King of France and the Vatican wanted their property and wealth."
"Very good, Buffy." Giles smiled. "That was their real motivation, but the Knights Templar gave them more than enough fuel to disguise their greed. The hands of some of the leaders of the order were far from clean."
"I agree with Buffy," Scott said after some thought. "The Bronze is our best shot at stopping the whole thing. Not only do we know that several things are going to start there, you have to admit that if this Selene is looking for a place to draw Buffy out, she couldn't find anywhere better."
Xavier steepled his fingers again. "Scott, I want you to take Jean and Buffy into town this evening and fill Angel in on what we've discovered. We'll need to coordinate out efforts with him."
"I'll go with 'em," Logan growled. "Been a while since I sat down an' traded notes with Worthington. He owes me a vintage bottle o' scotch."
JEAN'S STORY:
After dinner, Buffy climbed into the backseat of Jean's navy blue Mustang convertible. "I didn't know slaying paid so well."
Jean laughed as Scott climbed into the shotgun seat. "It was a birthday present from my parents when I turned sixteen last month. The Professor and the Watcher's Council do see to it that we all have enough income that we don't have to get jobs at McDonalds, but it won't buy a car like this without years of serious scrimping."
Buffy smiled as Jean put the top down and pulled out into the setting sun. "Your plate says 'LDYGREY', but your name is Jean."
Jean's response held a mix of emotions. "My parents have a strange sense of propriety."
Buffy was confused until Scott explained. "Jean's family is descended from British Nobility. She's technically Lady Jean Grey. She's not nearly as impressed with it as the rest of her family. I think her parents probably meant it as an inside joke, but . . . ."
Buffy decided to change the subject. "Scotty told me I'd have to ask you how you got the codename 'Phoenix'."
Jean shrugged as Logan followed them down the winding road on his motorcycle. "I was originally called Marvel Girl. I hated it, so I changed it last year when I came back from the dead."
"Dead?" Buffy gulped. "You can't leave a girl hanging like that. Out with it. Tell the story."
Jean shook her head in resignation and opened a mind link between the three of them. It was before most of the others joined up. It was just Scott, Chris, Kendra and me, along with some older students who graduated in June.
You'll probably meet them eventually, Scott interjected. Dani Moonstar is an illusionist who calls herself Mirage. Sam Guthrie is a human rocket called Cannonball. Bobby DaCosta is Sunspot, a solar powered tank and energy blaster. Xian Coy Manh, or Karma, possesses people. Rahne Sinclair is a shapeshifter and calls herself Wolfsbane. They've teamed up with some other Slayers who didn't attend here and are taking their show on the road.
We were dealing with the Initiative. Jean said. They're a bunch of paramilitary types the feds created to deal with what they call XDTs, or extra dimensional threats, and HSTs, humanoid supernatural threats. You might say we don't like their methods. They consider us talented, but dangerous amateurs.
Jean paused and Scott took over. Some of the people who rose to the top of the organization considered us as big a threat as any XDT or HST.
He continued as they reached the bottom of the road and entered town proper. Last year, they sent some operatives to capture us. They set us up masterfully and had us dead to rights. The commander at the time wanted to turn us into weapons. We'd have been screwed if Logan hadn't shown up.
Jean took over again. Blade had dealt with the Initiative before; particularly with Col. John Wraith, the man in charge. They're the reason his skeleton is laced with an experimental metal called adamantium. Wraith is a real sadist. He puts anything that doesn't fit with his definition of human into one of two groups: expendable weapons and targets to be taken out.
Buffy could feel Jean's rage rising, but the redhead kept it under control. Anyway, when Logan showed up, a fight broke out. As he was heading for his escape hatch, Wraith shot me in the head. He figured the others would be too distracted trying to save me; giving him the few minutes he needed to get away.
Her mental voice suddenly became very calm; almost detached, even clinical. I was dying. In fact, I actually died for a few minutes. Logan opened his wrist and poured his own blood down my throat. He brought me back to life, but the experience changed me. Before getting shot, I was a moderate strength telekinetic. Since coming back, my teke powers have increased exponentially and I've discovered I have telepathic powers as well. Marvel Girl died that day and Phoenix rose from her ashes.
Buffy was lost for words. "Wow."
Jean laughed. I owe Logan everything and I'll always have a special bond to him. He's as much a father to me as Professor Xavier or my real father, John Grey. Marvel Girl was shy, retiring, studious and afraid of living. She never had the guts to cut through Scott's hard shell and find out what was inside. Phoenix is fearless. I've already faced the worst death has to offer and come out unscathed. When I finally woke up, Scott was by my side. He hadn't left me since the fight. The first thing I did was the one thing I once was most afraid of.
Scott actually blushed at the memory. Jean originally arrived at Xavier's about the same time Chris and I did, so we've known each other for six years. I think I fell in love with her the first day we met, but we kept dancing around each other until that night. It took losing her to make me realize I couldn't live without her. I haven't even told Chris yet, but we're getting married as soon as we're both eighteen. That first kiss, a year ago, changed both of us forever.
Buffy shook her head. "If you wrote that in some romance novel, no one would believe it. That's what makes it so special. I'm so happy for you. Guess I've always been a sucker for happy endings."
The rest of that statement was left unsaid, but that didn't mean it didn't haunt all three of them. They all knew how rare happy endings were for Slayers.
RETURN TO THE BRONZE:
The sun was descending fast on the western horizon when they pulled into the parking lot of the Bronze. The place wouldn't open for another hour, but they weren't there to dance. Scott ignored the main entrance and led them around to the side of the building where the entrance to the private elevator leading down to Worthington's apartment was.
Scott looked straight into the security camera. "We need to talk."
"I just got up," Angel's voice came over the intercom as the door opened automatically for them. "Come on down."
Stepping off the elevator a moment later and two levels below ground, the four were greeted by Angel. He was wearing a silk robe with oriental designs and had a snifter of something thick and red in his hand. He guided them into a Victorian sitting room. A very old bottle of scotch sat on a table in the center of the room.
Logan walked over and picked up the bottle. "Y'r a man o' y'r word, Worthington. How'd ya know I'd be comin'?"
Angel sat down in an almost throne-like easy chair. "I heard you were in town. I knew it wouldn't be long before you dropped by. I took that out of my special stock this morning. I still can't believe you drew to an inside straight."
Logan took a seat across from him. "Sometimes ya gotta take a risk. That's why they call it gamblin'. We ain't here t' talk old times, though. Ya got trouble comin'."
Angel nodded, but said nothing.
Scott started. "It's coming down Friday night. It's some kind of once in a millennium planetary alignment. The Harvest is a ritual that must be performed during it. The Master intends to use it to not only free himself, but complete his . . . apotheosis."
Jean took over. "Selene is also in town, looking for Buffy. She intends to use the alignment for some blood ritual. As you already know, the blood of a Slayer is particularly potent; given that Buffy's THE Chosen One, hers is probably even more potent."
"The Master and Selene aren't allies." Scott added. "In fact, they hate each other, but there's going to be a war on the streets and it's going to start in your club."
Angel absorbed the information calmly. "That should be impossible, but let's assume it isn't. Friday is one of the biggest parties of the year here. Most of the teens in Sunnydale will be in the Bronze. How can we stop it?"
Logan thought. "Are there any holes in y'r wards? No matter how obscure they are, if we know them in advance, we can do something about them."
Angel frowned. "The Bronze is two clubs. Above, there's the teen club. Below, just above us, is a very different club. Demons and vampires can't enter the above ground club; only the one below ground and they have to use special entrances through the sewers to get there. My wards rely on retaining that balance. As long as the lower Bronze is in business, the upper Bronze is supposed to be safe."
He paused. "The Master is my grand-sire. Theoretically, he might be able to use his ties to me to get through, but he's trapped in his cavern."
Buffy spoke up. "He's your grand-sire. What about your sire?"
Angel shook his head. "Darla's dead. Logan dropped an Afghan cliff face on her. I've been meaning to thank you for that, by the way. Even if she was still alive, she would need a lot more mojo than she has to get through. Heinrich may have that kind of power, but Darla definitely doesn't."
Buffy turned to Logan. "Did you recover her body?"
Logan shrugged. "No reason to. There wouldn't have been anything left but dust. She was old, but she wasn't a nosferatu."
Scott shook his head. "If there's no body, we can't be sure. We need to check with the Magical Underground and the Watchers' Council to make sure there haven't been any sightings of her reported since Afghanistan. How long ago was that?"
"Late 2003," Logan told him. "I was working with a Greek mercenary named Dominick Petrakis. He was a renegade Slayer; called himself Avalanche. He hit the cliff with a blast that pretty much liquefied it. I doubt I coulda survived that and Darla wasn't anywhere near as tough as I am."
He paused. "Still, checkin' on her is a good idea. Even if it doesn't have anything t' do with what's goin' on. What about Drusilla? She's loony as a crate o' monkeys, but she's no slouch in the sorcery department."
Angel didn't think much of that. "Drusilla doesn't have the power needed to overcome the wards. Last I heard, she and Spike were operating out of Denmark; making the rounds of the local fringe clubs."
Logan scoffed. "Sounds like Billy-boy's kind of scene."
Buffy was confused. "Spike, Drusilla, Billy-boy? I need a scorecard to tell the vamps apart."
Angel seemed a little ashamed. "I created Drusilla; one of Angelus' 'better' pieces of work. She created Spike. His name when he was alive was William, but he changed it after he turned, then turned and eventually staked his own mother. With Darla and Drusilla, Spike and I were quite a team back in the day; a terrifying and destructive team. He's a punk and a large part of a past I'm working hard to make up for and would rather forget."
Scott already knew that history. "If one of them could get through, how much damage could they do?"
Angel didn't look happy. "A lot. The Bronze is my home. As such, it has a threshold that vampires and a lot of demons can't cross without an invitation; not as much of one as it would if I wasn't a vampire, but still. If someone from my demonic 'blood' line was able to get in, they could theoretically invite others. Looks like I'm going to have to upgrade my wards. Unfortunately, there's not enough time to do it before Friday. Four days isn't a lot of time for the kinds of rituals needed to block this kind of mojo."
Logan frowned. "Ya could close th' club f'r th' night."
Scott shook his head. "It wouldn't change the outcome, only the details. All the pieces are in position and in play. Not even strengthening the wards on the Bronze would change the outcome at this point. If the club is closed, the Harvest will just have to start somewhere else. At least, this way, we know the ignition point. We can be on hand to deal with it."
"Tell me more about the Harvest," Angel asked.
Jean responded. "The caster chooses another vampire to be their proxy. They call him the Vessel. Every life he takes during the night of the ritual gives power to the caster instead of the Vessel. With enough power, the Master breaks free and completes his transformation."
"How do we identify this Vessel?" Angel finished his glass and set it aside.
"Not clear," Jean admitted, "but it shouldn't be too hard. He'll be the one the other vamps are funneling victims to."
Scott took over. "Mr. Giles says the ritual gives the Vessel certain protections and advantages for the duration, but if we can take him out, the Harvest ends and half our job is done."
Angel nodded. "I'll hire some Underground people as additional security. They won't be much help in a fight, but can handle crowd control once everything starts. Regardless how the Master's brood gets through my wards, once inside, their first move will be to secure the entrances. They'll want a captive audience."
Scott agreed. "That works for us as well, at least to a certain degree. The last thing we want is a lot of panicked teenagers flooding the streets with everything that's going to be out there."
He frowned. "The problem will be taking on the vamps with that many witnesses around. The X-Men, like all slayers, prefer to work behind the scenes. This could put a spotlight on us and let a lot of creatures know where to find us; not to mention the Catholic Church's Inquisition and the FBI's Paranormal Investigations Directive. The Initiative already knows we're here, but those two organizations could make our lives very interesting, indeed."
"I think I ran into Fibbies in LA." Buffy told them. "They showed up after the fire and were asking a lot of questions. For some reason, they never talked to me."
Scott smiled. "That was actually the Professor looking out for you. He heard about the fire and the loss of Lionheart and knew someone would come looking, so he discouraged them from looking at you. He's done it for each of us at one point or another, but he never says much about it."
Buffy was surprised by that, but in light of everything else she'd been through in the past few days, it was a rather minor issue. She knew she could be angry with Xavier for interfering, but decided to thank him for the quiet assistance later.
NEW ARRIVALS:
Later that night and back at the mansion, the four new students arrived Logan had been training on the road arrived. "I found 'em in an Initiative base. They were bein' held there an' forcibly trained t' use their powers against vampires, demons an' other slayers. Their trainers were particularly hard on 'em, so they got their share o' psychological scars; particularly Faith. What they did to her . . . ."
His anger was rising so fast, he decided to head outside and clear his head before he lost it. He hid it well, but he'd always had a soft spot for kids like the students at Xavier's. Nothing could piss him off faster than hurting a kid, teen or woman that couldn't defend themselves.
Buffy followed him out. "You okay?"
He smiled gruffly. "Yeah, kid. I'm fine. Th' thought o' what folks like th' Initiative do t' kids like you, makes me wanna hit somethin' . . . hard . . . an' repeatedly."
She nodded, but made no move to leave and after a few minutes, he started talking. "Faith was an orphan. She had th' ability t' absorb th' abilities o' others; demons an' slayers alike. Problem is, she couldn't control it. Any skin t' skin contact triggers it."
He lit a cigar. "Those idiots stripped her an' two other girls they had naked an' shoved 'em in a small box where they couldn't avoid touchin'. Left 'em there all night. When they opened th' box up in th' mornin', Faith's body was a shriveled husk, one girl's body had disappeared completely an' Faith's mind was in th' third girl's body. Now, she has th' memories an' powers o' three girls. Her mind's dominant, but she's havin' a rough time dealin' with it all. Left her with this hard shell she uses to keep others at a distance. She plays th' wild, irreverent bad girl, but ya can see through th' act if ya know what t' look f'r."
He paused. "'Course the other three didn't exactly have a holiday. They were experimented on, beaten an' put through hell. I think th' other girl, Jubilee, mighta been raped, but she hasn't said nothin' about it. They seem t' be recoverin' better 'n Faith, but I'm no psychologist."
He put the cigar out and prepared to head back inside. "They been travelin' with me f'r a few months now. Even if I hadn't come out here t' help you kids, I'd'a brought them here soon as I figured they could handle it."
She followed him in. "Just when I think I've had it rough, I hear about other kids and thank God I had it so easy."
He smiled and grunted. "If ya wanted an easy life, ya shouldn't have been born a Slayer."
Buffy blinked at the illogic of that statement, then laughed. "Mr. Logan, you have a twisted sense of humor."
That evening, they had a dessert party similar to the lunch where Buffy was welcomed into the group. Faith Braddock, call sign Rogue, was tall and stacked. Her hair was raven black and her features were definitely Asian. Apparently, one of the girls she'd been forced to merge with was Japanese and the other was British. Since Faith never had a surname she cared about, she chose to use the name of the girl whose body she now occupied.
"In addition to my damn absorbing powers," Faith told the group when asked, "I'm a telepath. I worked out a few tricks I can do in addition to the basic reading and controlling minds. I can psychically make myself invisible and I can manifest this psychic sword. It's a pretty good weapon against humans; stunning, but not killing them. For some reason, it's extremely deadly to vamps and almost as effective against most demons. I'm also super strong, nearly invulnerable and can fly."
Neil Gates, call sign Falcon, was a tall black teen with dreadlocks and raven fletched wings. "I'm extremely tough and strong. I'm also a bit of a telepath in my own right, but I can only do it with animals; mostly birds. I also have this ability to absorb energy, store it, magnify it and fire it back. The wings, strength, durability and animal telepathy bit I got naturally. The energy powers I got from the Initiative."
It was pretty clear he wasn't in a mood to go into details, so Buffy didn't push it.
The other girl was named Jubilee Harris. She was a valley girl and a skater; not unlike Buffy herself. She was given the call sign Equinox. She could absorb, generate, manipulate and even animate fire and ice. She even flew riding a skateboard that alternated randomly between the two. Whereas Faith acted like a party girl and Neil was rather taciturn, Jubilee was . . . . The best word Buffy could think to describe her was spunky.
The last of the four was a black kid named Parker Gunn. At fourteen, he would be the youngest student at the school. Along with Willow, he'd also be one of the smartest. He wasn't as shy as she was, though. In fact, he was insatiably curious. His call sign would be Longshot. His power, which he refused to demonstrate, was chaos.
"I promised to never use my powers unless I'm on a mission or in the Danger Room," he told the others. "I create these bolts of pure chaos. I can't control what happens when I fire them, but it's always destructive and totally unpredictable. I cut loose at that Initiative facility when Mr. Logan rescued us and made the roof collapse. Probability goes right out the window when I'm around."
Jubilee laughed. "When he says unpredictable, he means it. I'm not sure the bolt actually even hit anything, but the support columns holding that roof up suddenly dissolved. I had to put up an ice dome to keep us from being crushed along with the bad guys."
Neil nodded, but didn't smile. "It took us almost an hour to dig our way out of the ruins. By then, anyone not caught in the collapse had escaped."
Buffy noted a lot of unspoken tension between the two boys. She wasn't sure what was up, but didn't let it get to her. Later, she cornered Jubilee.
"Please don't think I'm a nosy busybody," she said quietly, "but I'm picking up on a lot of tension between Neil and Parker. Is there something we need to worry about?"
Jubilee understood. "Good eye. Yeah. There's tension. They're friends, but the Initiative really screwed with them. Like Neil said, the energy absorption and channeling bit was done TO him. One of the geeks at the facility wondered if Neil was tough enough to resist Parker. He forced Parker to blast Neil and keep blasting. Parker refused until they threatened to kill me if Parker didn't or if he stopped before he was told."
She shuddered. "It had to be incredibly painful. I'll never forget the sound of Neil's screams. When it was over, he had third and fourth degree burns on his chest. He's still recovering and will have the scars of it the rest of his life. Neil doesn't consciously blame Parker, but . . . . Of course, it doesn't help that Parker blames himself. It's a tough sitch for both of them."
"Wow," Buffy responded. "That sucks . . . . Did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?"
Jubilee laughed encouragingly. "A little, but you're forgiven. I hide it pretty well, but it even freaks me out sometimes. You're lucky the Professor found you before the Initiative did. We're lucky Logan found us when he did. Now, I want to forget everything we've been through and go back to being your average, everyday, teenage, super-powered Slayer."
Buffy hugged the other girl impulsively. "Works for me. What do you think about hitting the malls with me on Saturday? After we deal with this Harvest mess and kick a whole ton of butt, that is. We're both new in town, we can get Jean and Willow to give us the ten penny tour and pick up some school clothes. Heaven forbid the Professor should ever let us use his precious fabricator to make something other than uniforms."
"Shopping?" Jubilee laughed and hugged Buffy back. "Now you're talking my language, girl."
Buffy smiled. "I'm trilingual, myself. I speak fluent English, sarcasm and shopping."
"Sarcasm? That's Faith's native tongue."
TRAINING BEGINS:
Tuesday morning found fourteen young Slayers in uniform on the floor of the Danger Room as Scott addressed them. "Okay. Given our numbers, the Professor has decided to divide us into two strike teams. I will lead Gold Team. Storm will lead Blue Team. The assignments to each team wasn't left up to either of us. It was done by the Professor himself based on criteria he hasn't chosen to share with either of us."
He cleared his throat a little apologetically. "Be that as it may, I have to admit he made some good choices. Gold Team will consist of myself, Phoenix, Gambit, Shadowcat, Dawnstar, Colossus and Longshot. Havok, Destiny, Nightcrawler, Rogue, Equinox and Falcon will be on Blue Team with Storm."
The scene changed to an identical representation of the interior of the Bronze. "This will be our battleground Friday; at least one of them. For those of you who are new to town, it's a teen club in town called the Bronze. You've all had time to read the mission briefing. Are there any questions?"
"Is this place really owned and run by a vampire?" Faith spoke up.
"Yes." Scott's response was direct. "Angel was turned in the fifteenth century. Three hundred years later, he was cursed by a vengeful gypsy clan who returned his soul; the greatest curse you can put on a vampire. He's made the Bronze the safest place in Sunnydale. He's one of a kind and if not quite a friend, he's definitely NOT an enemy."
Neil was next. "How many bystanders can we expect?"
Phoenix answered that one. "The Bronze has a maximum legal occupancy of three hundred. As this is the biggest party of the year, we expect the place to be full and then some. It's a converted warehouse, though, so even at full capacity there's going to be a lot of room to maneuver."
Scott nodded. "In addition to his normal staff, Angel has hired a dozen members of the Underground for extra security. I want to stress this, they AREN'T combatants. They're trained to defend themselves with crosses, wards, holy water and other methods, but fighting will be our job. They'll be focusing on getting kids out of the line of fire and into safe zones being set up as we speak."
He paused. "Prof. Xavier, Mr. Giles and Dr. McCoy will be monitoring events in the city from here. Mr. Logan and Angel will be backing us up at the Bronze. Don't count on them, however. They're going to have their own concerns. Taking out the Vessel and the other vamps is going to be our job."
"How many vampires are we expecting?" Neil asked.
"We don't know," Scott told him honestly. "Enough to corral three hundred terrified teenagers. According to even the most conservative estimates, the Master controls as many as sixty vamps. Given how important this Harvest is to him, we need to be ready to face them all. That means we could be outnumbered as much as four to one. Not good odds, but we've faced worse."
Several people nodded, but he wasn't finished. "Remember, the Bronze is only one of the threats we need to deal with Friday. The Master's efforts will be focused there, but we still have the Black Queen and her brood to deal with. He's not likely going to expect us to be on hand to stop him. She, on the other hand, is going to be looking for us; specifically for Dawnstar. Given her penchant for using innocents against us, we expect her to make a big show endangering as many people at once as possible. Since she can't get into the Bronze, she could strike at any of a dozen other locations with a hundred or more people."
"We have a list of her most likely buffets yet?" Xander asked.
"There are too many possibilities to cover them all." Scott informed him, "but we have several high probability candidates. Sunnydale College is going to be throwing its first mixer of the school year. The Sunnydale Country Club is having a big coming out party for a handful of local society girls. The old Orpheum Theater is holding a Rocky Horror event that could have as many as a hundred or more people. Finally, the Sunnydale Dolphins, our local professional baseball team, has a shot at their league play offs this year and has an important game Friday night."
He sighed just slightly. "Unfortunately, there are more than a dozen other events that night that could be targeted just as easily. That's why the Professor and the others will be monitoring things from up here. For all we know, she could decide to attack multiple venues at once."
"That's what I'd do," Falcon announced. "The vamps and demons know you guys operate out of this area, so what better way to take us down than to make us spread ourselves too thin."
"That's a definite possibility," Scott admitted. "That's why Prof. Xavier's quietly flying in some reinforcements. The Master or Selene - - probably both - - could be watching the mansion, so they won't be coming here, but they will be coming into town and laying low until Friday night. Some people that graduated in June and their friends arrive tomorrow. Others are already here, or on their way. Even the Watchers Council seems to be pulling out all the stops for this one. Given the way they feel about the Professor's methods, that's saying something."
Equinox cracked the gum she was chewing. "Logan mentioned them a few times. He didn't think much of them. Who are they?"
Storm frowned. "The Watchers Council is a group of retired Slayers and Watchers who oversee operations around the world. They've been around as long as there have been Slayers and have very precise ideas on how things should be done. The Professor disagrees with several of their preconceptions. They'd like to shut him down, but he's got the funds and backing to operate independent of them. Besides, he gets better results than they do."
Hawkeye took over. "If you're lucky, you'll never have to deal with them. If you do, remember what Prof. Xavier told me a few years ago. They need us, not the other way around. We're the ones doing what they either can't or no longer care to do. They may have convinced themselves and a lot of others that what they do is relevant, important and even integral, but we can and do get along perfectly well without them."
