"Willow!" Lorne yelped, running headlong into Willow in the midst of a dark hallway. Willow smiled in a sleepy sort of way, her eyes half open and noticeably bloodshot, even in the dark. She clutched a large copy of Chronicles to her chest like a comforting teddy bear.
"Hi Lorne, headin' off to bed?"
"I…no. I was looking for the broody boss man,"
"Oh. I think he's with…erm…"
"With the Slayer? Yeah, I thought he might be. Hate to disturb him, but I don't think it can wait. He likes to hear about bad vibe-age as it happens."
"Bad…oh. Can I help?"
"More of an Angel thing, Red, but thanks," Lorne shifted nervously from one foot to the other, his brow dotted with beads of sweat.
"Wes tells me you're an empathic demon. You can read the futures of those that sing for you. Do you have information about Shesha?" Willow straightened, attempting to look more important and less like a sidekick Scooby.
"I'm not really sure. You mention Wes…have you seen Wes?"
"Library." Willow shrugged, already falling asleep on her feet despite the jolt of possible news.
"Ah. Dusty book land. My favorite place." Lorne frowned and continued down the hall.
Lorne melted wearily into a chair in the dimly lit library, alongside a table scattered with ancient texts, parchment lined with runes and glyphs, and several yellow notepads covered in chicken scratch notes. Wesley Wyndam-Price and Rupert Giles sat engulfed in notes, pouring over the translations of several human and demon languages. Taking a sip of cooling tea, Giles lifted his eyes just enough to glimpse the green tinted demon washed out by the flickering table lamps. He cleared his throat, yet still croaked when speaking.
"Lorne,"
"Pertinent news, thought you should know, big guy." Lorne half smiled. The last of his normal color returned to his cheeks and the wave of nausea dissipated.
"I'm listening," Wes frowned, looking up briefly from his notes.
"Read a few of the slayer-ettes a little while ago. Through a wave of nausea, I got a pretty strange vibe."
"Not again,"
"Oh no, not as bad as that Cordy vibe thing. It was just…well…it seemed like the Slayer-ettes wouldn't be here for this Shesha thing. Whatever's coming, these girls won't face it."
"Wait…what?" Giles blinked, removing his glasses and rubbing them with his handkerchief.
"No futures for the Slayer-ettes. At least, not here."
"Rupert, I think we've waited long enough. We have to call the team together. We need to make some kind of plan."
"Yes…hmm."
Buffy threw her legs out over the side of the bed, her feet sliding into a pair of cozy slippers. Stretching her arms wide, she yawned loudly and sank down into the mattress with a guttural groan. A knock echoed against the door and it popped open, Angel's head peeking around the door.
"Meeting at the breakfast table in ten minutes," he yawned, rubbing the back of his skull with one hand. Sleep still clung to his eyes and his hair stuck out in odd directions.
"I'll walk down with you." Buffy answered, grabbing the tee shirt she'd worn the day before from the back of a chair.
Dawn sat up on her elbows as Xander rolled out of bed beside her, pulling on a shirt and pulling his eye patch down over his forehead.
"It's seven in the morning," she groaned, still half-asleep. Strands of brown hair fell around her face and neck, sweeping the bed sheets.
"Duty calls. You know how it is." Xander answered gruffly, leaning back to kiss her cheek.
"Just glad I didn't have to spend all night doing the research thing."
"Me too," Xander winked with his good eye.
"Alright, we have fresh tea, fresh coffee, fresh pig's blood, fifteen kinds of cereal, and, because I've been up since five, about a thousand chocolate chip peanut butter pancakes." Willow yawned, helping herself to a short stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee. Beside her, Giles and Wesley blinked at the array of foods on top of the stove and stretched across the countertop. Giles poured a few cups of English Breakfast, took one, and wandered toward the breakfast table to continue studying his notes.
"Got any Wheatabix?" Spike frowned, looking at a mug of pig's blood waiting for him on the counter.
"Ugh," Willow soured, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into her mouth.
"I like the consistency. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't like variety."
"So try some pancakes for your variety."
"I think he just like grossing us out," Fred giggled from the door, taking a bee line route to the steaming pancakes on top of the stove. "Ooh, peanut butter chocolate chip? My favorite!"
"Better than tacos?" Gunn joked from the breakfast table, stirring his Cocoa Pebbles with disinterest.
"Well, nothing is better than tacos, Charles."
By half past seven, the team had gathered at the breakfast table, stuffing all of the seats and more pulled in from the expansive adjoining dining room. Buffy slouched against the back of a wide, armed chair. Angel sat beside her, his pinky finger lightly grazing the edge of her hand. Xander and Willow picked at their breakfasts in the next two seats, sharing bites of pancake and spoonfuls of six types of cereal in one bowl. Connor sat bolt upright in a seat beside his father, happy to be included in the discussion. Beside him, Charles Gunn scooped chocolate flavored cereal into his mouth, sating a lazy hunger. Lorne yawned at one end of the table, facing Spike at the other end sucking blood through a straw. Fred sat catty-corner to the vampire, wide-awake and ready for research mode. Giles and Wesley downed cups of tea and peered at the ensemble with blood-shot eyes.
"Here's what we have," Wes grunted. "Shesha is also known as Endless Shesha, leader or king of the race of Old Ones called the Naga. The demons' natural form is a gigantic cobra, and it is still worshipped as a protector of the Hindu god Krishna. However, before Krishna, the Naga race was all powerful, and it is believed that they had a role in the creation of the human dimension, as well as several demon dimensions."
"We've surmised that Shesha was captured in its non-corporeal essence in a sacred urn that occupied a space in the Deeper Well. Something or someone broke into the Well, killed the demonic bodyguards of Drogyn as well as Drogyn himself, and stole the urn. It or they then broke the urn with a series of spells, releasing the essence of Shesha upon the world." Giles frowned, gulping down another cup of tea.
"Known powers?" Angel asked, setting his mug of blood heavily on the table.
"From what is described in ancient Hindi texts, Shesha requires a corporeal form to invoke any real damage. It takes several weeks, maybe even several months, to perform the rituals necessary to place Shesha in a human host, raised as an offering to the Shesha by fundamentalists. Because of the global problems we've already seen, Rupert and I believe that Shesha has already found a host. As it gains strength, Shesha is able to shape-shift into other living creatures, including a swarm of cobras like the one witnessed in Argentina."
"The demon can also recreate biblical plagues on a localized scale." Giles sighed. "The rain of fire we witnessed a few weeks ago was likely the result of Shesha. We can expect to see other plagues as well-rivers of blood, toads, locusts, diseases, famine… We've determined that these attacks increase Shesha's power and allow it to materialize into its ultimate corporeal form, an epic snake-like creature."
"The real question," Buffy growled, sitting up in her chair, "Is how do we kill it?"
"We don't know yet." Wesley frowned, sitting back. His shoulders drooped hopelessly.
"Wesley and I have a lead in the deserts of Algeria, at the natural arches of the Tassili n'Ajjer. We believe that the original sorcerers that created the first Slayer may have faced the Naga."
"So I'll head down to this Origin place and dig up this info," Buffy volunteered, pushing back her chair.
"No." Giles replied gruffly. "Whatever the information is, it will need to be translated, possibly on location. We need you to stay here, Buffy, and train for whatever is coming. We also need to keep a sharp eye on the girls. We believe they may be in danger."
"In danger?" Xander squeaked through a mouthful of pancakes. "Of what?"
"Lorne read them last night, gave him the wiggins." Willow nodded.
"Yes. Lorne read Renee and Kyra. We believe that they may not be involved in the fight with Shesha, but we don't know why. Their protection is of the utmost importance."
"So I'm on babysitting duty?" Buffy balked.
