Siblings

by leroy gibin

I hate plot summaries. They're either useless or reveal too much. Tag lines, too, they always sound stupid. But since I have to: A horrifying ordeal leads Dawn to search for her path, while Buffy and the slayers try to stave off another apocalypse.

13. Chapter 13: Free Falling

Chapter 13: Free Falling

It was a dive in every sense of that word. A steep narrow staircase took her down an equivalent of three stories below ground, but the ceiling in the tavern was still uncomfortably low even for Buffy's small stature. The clientele was mixed about even between humans and demons. It reminded her of Willy's place back in Sunnydale only bigger, darker, and older. The stone walls seemed to ooze ancient creepiness. The patrons were all looking at her out of the corner of their eyes, but tried to carry on with their drink or conversation as though they haven't noticed. There were no rookies here. Each demon knew that if the Slayer has come for someone in particular it was probably not them, but if she was fishing for information then running would be the second worst thing they could do in this situation.

"Well, aren't you a hot a little number," one of the drunk humans slurred reaching for Buffy's behind as she passed by. This was the first thing.

It occurred to Buffy that this used to be a medieval dungeon. The booths were individual cells; the curvature of the walls and the stones themselves were designed to absorb the sound. The customers at the far tables didn't even flinch as she slammed the drunkard's face into the wooden table. The unconscious man slid under it as she let go his wrist. The location of the bar stand was probably the torture chamber, laid out in such a way as to carry the sound instead. The long gone denizens of these tiny cells would be forced to listen to the cries of pain and agony emanating from that focal point much like she was made to endure that Italian hip-hop blaring off the radio behind the bar. Buffy climbed onto the stool and looked at the figure to her left. The man seemed passed out on the counter; empty shot glasses formed a fence between his head and the bartender.

"Hey," she said softly, gently shaking his shoulder. The man groaned and with visible effort turned his head sideways. After a few seconds something resembling a smile crawled over his face.

"I know you! I think," the Immortal paused and squinted, "Do I? I mean the chances of you actually being here are pretty small, while the amount of tequila I drank is pretty large"

"It's really me," Buffy smiled, "And sharing your sentiment. When I first walked in I thought Willow messed up her spell, but here you are. More surprisingly not looking that out of place. So what came first, the outfit or the choice of establishment?"

Mortimer grimaced as he smacked his lips a few times trying to get a handle on the dry mouth that seemed to extend all the way down to his stomach and up his nostrils.

"You know how they say: you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here? Well, they are not they. Or is it 'them'? Doesn't matter. No such thing as proper English. I remember it all, you know, how it was. Every decade of every century you keep twisting the language, slapping new words on it every which way. What do you get? You get this," He stared down at himself, "This was a four thousand euro suit three weeks ago"

"If there's one positive about the smell of alcohol is that it covers all the others."

"Sure, let's pile some more put downs on the depressed drunk"

"No!" Buffy raised her finger in protest, "You don't get to make me feel guilty. There's no having the cake and eating it. You ended it, not me, so stop mopping about it!"

"It's not about you, it's about me," Mortimer pushed an empty shot glass in the direction of the bartender, "It was always about me, and apparently always will be"

"That's a little too deep for me right now. Besides, the reason I'm here is that I need your help"

"Unless your problem is tequila that's about to go bad, I'm not your man"

"I need information, Mortimer"

"I don't know anything"

"But you know people who do"

The Immortal emptied the shot glass into his mouth and pushed it back for another refill.

"I have nothing against playing the courier for you except that it involves me getting off this stool and the only time I do that is if I need to use the john. Sometimes not even then"

Buffy chuckled uncomfortably. "I'm choosing to believe it was just a really funny joke and move on. If you can't be the intermediary that's fine by me, I would actually prefer the direct route. Not that I want to welch on your compensation. Just tell me what you want. I can pay for you getting plastered here till the end of your supposedly endless existence. How's that?"

"I don't think the direct route will work for you," the Immortal mumbled giving a close examination to the rather dried up lime wedge that came with his refill.

"I'm sure a lot of them are quite unsavory, but the so called legitimate channels haven't been very agreeable with me, either. As long as your people are not into anything too evil I think we can work something out."

Mortimer shrugged and squeezed the lime into his mouth.

"Wolfram&Hart is my people"

"Well, I figured as much, with all those fancy folders, and dividers, and tables of contents. What I want to know is who do you have on the inside, what positions, and how do I contact them?"

"You don't understand. I don't have anybody on the inside. Well, I have everybody on the inside. My source is Wolfram&Hart. I ask for information and they give it to me"

"What do you mean they give it to you?" Buffy stared at Mortimer, "Are you saying you work for Wolfram&Hart?"

"No. If anything, they work for me"

"Please don't tell me you a Senior Partner!"

"That would be funny, wouldn't it?" the man chuckled, "I'm not. I'm not even a client, in the strictest sense. It's all part of a deal we've had for the last few millennia. They give me access to their archives and some use of their labs and personnel, and in exchange I leave them alone"

"So you were one of the good guys once and then they bought you off"

"No, they just bugged me. Remember how I said trying to kill me was a sport once? It was them trying to see how my immortality works. I took a few shots in good humor, but enough was enough, and I went after them. Can't stop a lone assassin willing to give up his life. Don't remember who said it first. Might have been me, actually. At any rate, it's true," Mortimer mused, "I did some quality damage to Wolfram&Hart proper, but mostly I went after their clients. They were pretty successful at protecting the big fish, so I dropped to mid-range. Their client list is the size of a small country, and the way a country protects its citizens is through deterrent, the assurance that if you do something you'll be caught and punished. Doesn't work on me. All of a sudden being a client of Wolfram&Hart became very dangerous and fiends took their business elsewhere. I thoroughly ruined the firm's reputation. Competition bulked up, even the big clients started switching. In less than three decades Wolfram&Hart found themselves embroiled in wars on a dozen fronts, struggling to stay afloat," the Immortal smiled clearly reveling in the awe plastered all over the Slayer's face, " They sued for peace, and I obliged. I'm a lover, not a fighter, just thought they should be taught a lesson," He reached for another drink when Buffy grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You had a chance to destroy Wolfram&Hart and you just decided to pass?!"

"Haven't you been listening? It doesn't matter. If I had destroyed Wolfram&Hart some Manbear&Pig1 would just take their place. They could have been worse. They certainly sound worse."

"So not the point!"

"No, the point is that it all balances out. If you want to change something, really change it, you must pay a price. All these things I can do, they add up to a lot of power, more than you realize. But I will never make a difference because I will not sacrifice. I'm not a hero like you"

"I was never looking for a hero, just a good man"

"I'm not sure I'm that either," Mortimer sighed lifting up his shot glass for the umpteenth time. He paused in the air then sat it back down untouched, "Coming here was a bad call, Buffy"

"I didn't get everything I wanted," she shrugged, "It's hardly a tragedy"

"I suppose you got some enjoyment out of it"

"No, I didn't"

Mortimer turned his head to the side slightly. "Be honest," he twisted his lips into a smirk, "You wanted to see me miserable"

"You want to know what I wanted to see? I wanted to see you with another woman, some pretty, mindless thing, laughing your asses off. I wanted to see you drinking, but less, and dancing, in short having lots of very obvious fun. Then our eyes would meet and I see that you don't mean any of it. You realize the emptiness of it all and the harder you try to hide it the more it shows. That would give me satisfaction. This, this is sad and pathetic. You are better than this cliché. I'm better than having had feelings for someone capable of this cliché. If I wasn't in the middle of a war and an apocalypse I'd whip you into shape starting right this moment, but since you are immortal with an infinite supply of time, money, and brain and liver cells I'll concentrate on more pressing things. I'm coming back here, though, bet on it"

The smirk on the Immortal's face gave way to an actual smile.

"You really are an obnoxiously good person," he said as the skin on his forehead suddenly furrowed into wrinkles, "I think there was something I wanted to tell you ever since you came in, but I forget what"

"You have my number," Buffy jumped off her stool, "Call me when you remember. Or if you don't, you can still call me. If you feel like you need to talk"

"What would we talk about?"

"How should I know?" Buffy shrugged and headed out. She was almost to the top of the staircase when her cellphone rang. She smiled at the caller ID and flipped it open, "Yes?"

"I remembered what I wanted to say," Mortimer responded sleepily, "It's 'duck'"

"Duck?" Buffy pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it thoroughly perplexed. Duck! She dropped to the ground just as a body flew over her head. The green demon grabbed on to the rail and steered himself around in midair, landing just a couple of steps in front of the Slayer.

"Agile little monkey, aren't you?" Buffy has seen his kind around, but she never fought one. The demon was only a tad taller than her and almost as slender. From what little Buffy could remember about the species they were the coyotes of the underworld. Clever, but only dangerous to small dogs and unattended children. That it would attack a Slayer was beyond ridiculous. Perhaps he's a diversion. As Buffy glanced around for the "real" threat, the demon lunged at her again. Completely unprepared for this clearly suicidal frontal assault she just shoved it away clumsily. This time the demon scrambled to his feet and ran.

"You make no sense!" Buffy shouted frustrated and gave chase. The green heals glistening in the moonlight as the demon sprinted over to the nearest building and started climbing up the vertical wall. The Slayer grabbed a loose cobblestone and launched it after the fleeing pest.

"This so sucks," Buffy spoke out loud looking over the splattered corpse, "If you were a worse climber you'd have a shorter fall and lived, and we'd both be much happier." She poked the body with her shoe trying to see if it had anything in its pockets without actually touching the slimy thing. There was a bulge on the left side that she carefully nudged into the open.

"What do you know, we have the same phone," she smiled picking it up, "Wait a second!" she grabbed for her jeans pocket. It was empty, sliced at the bottom. "Great. Two hundred euro jeans for a fifty euro phone. It would have been cheaper just to give it to him." If Buffy was planning to wonder what would the demon want with her phone she didn't get to. The stone she threw two minutes ago came rushing towards her face. She dodged it quickly and sprinted into the open street. Judging by the angle of the telekinetic pull her new opponent was on the roof of one of the buildings across. The Slayer stood still for a minute, but could see or hear no one. She stepped off the sidewalk and started in the calculated direction, when a strange anxious feeling gripped her heart and echoed in her feet. Wrong way! She darted back into the alley and hid behind a small brick protrusion of one of the building's walls until the little needles in her extremities faded away.

Warlocks. As much as she loved Willow she despised having spellcasters as enemies. Fireballs or telekinesis she could live with; those were things she could dodge. Even force fields weren't too bad as few could withstand the Slayer's punches for long. It was the curses and hexes that made Buffy's blood boil, ever since eight years ago one almost did so literally. Cast directly upon their target there's no physical defense against hexes. Protection magic may work, but not all the time. Possession of a personal item would essentially render you at the mercy of an even barely competent witch, but a good one may sometimes do without one. A powerfully sorcerer, like Zemfira, needs just the line of sight to make Buffy into a wall decoration. The tingling sensation in her feet was the same one she remembered feeling all over her body as she looked into the black eyes of the vampire witch. Whoever it is on the roof, he or she has similar abilities. Buffy peeked cautiously over the wall. The building from which she was attacked stood about thirty five meters away; a good seven second sprint. It takes Willow about four seconds to cast a line of sight spell, so to be safe she needs a route that can give her cover every fifteen meters or so. Back home it wouldn't have been a problem, but this was Rome. Damn those Italians with their useless little scooters! The biggest thing on the whole street was a City-Coupe at the end of the block. She had no choice, but to go straight for the building entrance and hope this particular warlock isn't even half as good as Willow. Pushing off with both of her feet Buffy exploded from behind the wall and rushed down the sidewalk. As she did she saw the rows of parked scooters on both sides rise into the air. This was not going to be pleasant. Buffy slouched forward a bit and shielded her head with her forearms. By the time she made it to her target she literally flew into the doorway with the help of a red Vespa slamming directly into her back. The Slayer crawled from under the metal and wood debris and brushed herself off. In a few hours she'll be covered with bruises, but it didn't feel like anything was broken. Back home it could have been so much worse. Bless those Italians with their light little scooters!

Eight flights of stairs later Buffy was dodging a fire ball that greeted her as she exited onto the roof. She could see her opponent clearly now. He was standing next to the doorway of the second building stairwell. If it wasn't for his right hand being engulfed in flames he looked like a very nondescript middle aged man. Trying to distract him as she covered the distance between them Buffy sent her stake flying into the horn rimmed glasses of the warlock. A snap of his fingers splintered the weapon, but instead of scattering, the wooden needles proceeded on target, pinning his clothes to the door in a dozen places.

"Glad you could make it," Buffy smiled glancing over her shoulder. The air behind her wobbled as Willow abolished her invisibility spell.

"He's all yours. The binding spell should prevent him from casting any more magic."

"Then why is he still smiling?" As the Slayer took a cautious step forward, the warlock's form collapsed into thousands of worms of various sizes.

"No fair!" the witch cried out, "Grab him, Buffy!"

"You grab him," the Slayer backed away in disgust. In a matter of seconds the worms squirming all over the roof filtered through the cracks under the door and in between tiles. Running up to the swiftly disappearing pile Willow managed to snap up the last handful.

"Something for my trouble," she grumbled trying to keep the worms from squeezing through her fingers, "It's just bugs, Buffy. The least you could do was step on some"

"I'm a Slayer, not an exterminator. What are you going to do with the creepy crawlers? Location spell?"

"No, interrogation," the witch deadpanned.

"Really? Oh, good one," Buffy snickered, "I need to go back to the bar. I think when Mortimer said 'it was bad call coming here' he meant them. They were probably staking him out to see if I showed up. He must have spotted them some time ago, but was too drunk to remember right away. Come with? I may need help sobering him up"

"Want me to drop a worm in his glass?"

"No, he might think it came with tequila and eat it," Buffy chuckled, "Here, let's get you a container," she knelt to pick up an discarded coke bottle lying near the door when something shimmered in the groove between the roof tiles. She picked up the object and stared at it for a few seconds, "Then again, I may know who they are, too" She extend her palm to Willow. Nestled in the middle was a golden ring with a seal of a stylized flame.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The book case turned ninety degrees letting Giles back into the secret lounge. The low hanging smokey mist gave it an eerie familiar look. Only instead of pungent odor of Robson's Cuban cigar, a delicately sweet smell of Parliaments permeated the air. How many of these did Dawn have to go through to create this haze?

"I apologize it took so long," the Watcher spoke taking a seat across from the girl, "It seems every one of the Caretakers has moved on; not surprising given their duplicity, but I'm confident Mr. Kim can find them again."

"He'll find corpses, if that," Dawn pensively swirled her glass of cognac before setting it back on the end table to her left, "I don't think they broke the agreement. I think Leshii killed them"

"If Leshii killed the Caretakers of Taraka, the assassins would be skinning him alive instead of coming after us"

"Not necessarily. The Caretakers exist to take contracts and distribute payments. They are respected, but they are not leaders of the Order per se. Leshii could argue that by striking a deal with us to refuse a fair contract from him the Caretakers were derelict in their duties and violated the spirit of the Assassin Order"

"Perhaps, but the Order cannot function without Caretakers"

"The job requirements are pretty straight forward. Access to an untraceable financial network, large amount of money for collateral, and a reputation for honest dealings..."

"Leshii as the Caretaker of Taraka," Giles was quick to latch onto the implication. He signed and slowly removed his glasses, "This would be quite distressing, indeed. Either way we need confirmation"

Like a spring Dawn's arm whipped across the table. The sound of shattered glass pierced the air.

"I should have seen this coming! God, this was so obvious!"

"It was hardly obvious, and yet you correctly anticipated Leshii's overture to the Order. You cannot expect to get every single detail every single time"

"I get the direction right, but not how far he is willing to go," Dawn spoke softly now, staring at her cigarette flicker in the puddle of brandy; the scattered shards of crystal reflected the light over and over, "His moves seemed brazen, but they were always a sure thing. His aversion to risk made him predictable. All I had to do was calculate as far ahead as he does. Not anymore. He has adjusted to me, raised his game, and all I do is get angry. I'm sorry about your glass"

"Pay it no mind, I have plenty," Giles answered standing next to the liquor cabinet carved out in the middle of the book case, "That was, however, my lone bottle of brandy. How do you feel about scotch?"

Instead of replying Dawn pulled a flask out of her jacket and placed it on the table.

"You don't have to anticipate every eventuality as long as you do the important ones," Giles smiled. He set the snifter next to the girl, opened the flask and filled it a third of a way.

"This is not my best. I can do better"

"I know you can, but you must stop holding yourself back," the Watcher responded handing her the glass. Dawn picked it up with two fingers and brought it to her face inhaling the aroma. She then moved it out toward the light and swirled the glass slowly back and forth.

"You are right," the girl finally answered. A smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth as she stared at the dark brown liquid peacefully sloshing in her hand, "I think it's time we were the ones to venture outside our comfort zone."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When she heard sneaker heals thumping down the staircase above Buffy canceled the text message she has almost finished on her cell phone and got up from the step she was sitting on.

"I see someone has finally decided to check her voice mail"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Willow crooned from above, "I'm sorry," she added one more time coming face to face with Buffy.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go," said Buffy nudging the witch towards the artifact storage door.

"What did Dawn want to see us about?"

"I don't know. I spent the half hour waiting for you on those cold and uncomfortable steps"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to send you angry messages every three minutes and there's no reception down there, you know that."

"You could have just summoned me"

"Oh no," Buffy shook her head, "I'm not abusing this telepathic thing you set up. If I start dragging you out willy-nilly you might not show up when I really need it" She stopped and turned as she felt Willow grab hold of her hand.

"That will never happened"

Buffy smiled and lightly squeezed her friend's hand back. They walked on side by side till they came upon Dawn sitting on the couch in the research area.

"Sorry we are late"

The girl looked up from the book she was reading, then looked at her watch.

"Yes, you are," she sat the volume on the coffee table face down and got up. The wide grin on her sister's face told Buffy that whatever it was she found it is big.

"Well? What did you want to show us?"

"This," Dawn pointed to the stand where the cloud of translucent element symbols hovered above the amulet.

"We've already seen it"

"No," the teen smiled wider, "You looked at it. I've stared at it for over a month myself, but I'm only seeing it now."

"You finally got your hands on Samira's weed haven't you?" Buffy was getting a tad annoyed.

"Why air?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why is air the element missing? If this was just a random breakup for security reason then each part of the amulet would have two elements. They don't. Ours has three and Leshii's has one. Why was it split this way? What makes air so different from the others?"

"Whatever it is I better hear it in the next thirty seconds"

"Two minutes," Dawn countered, "I made the brilliant discovery so I get to do the exposé. Anyway, I started by picturing it. Earth, water next to it. Fire under the earth, above earth. Water inside earth or earth under water, not sure how those magi viewed it. All of it pretty intermixed, but air is clearly on top. In fact, the entire planet is like a snow globe, surrounded by air with layers of other stuff inside it," she paused, then sighed at the blank looks of her listeners, "I'm not done. As I started thinking about layers it clicked. Paint. There's something else that separates air from others, air is colorless. Sure, it's usually represented with a trim of very light blue, but how else would you represent blankness on paper? In virtually every book the symbol for air is empty border while fire is red, the water is blue, and the earth is.."

"Brown," Buffy interrupted, "And I'm bored. Dawn, would you just..."

"Green!" Willow practically screamed her eyes growing wide, "The earth magic is considered life magic. It's symbol is the color of plants, green!"

"Okay," Buffy took a step back from the curiously excited witch, "I'm not insisting on brown. Green is prettier. If you want green it can be green"

"RGB, Buffy!"

"WTF, Willow?"

The witch dashed over to the amulet stand and thrust her finger at each of the elements.

"Red, green, blue, the three basic colors from which every other color can be derived. The relative size of each symbol represents the relative amount of each. Each one of these groupings is a color dot, like a pixel on a digital screen. This one here is orange. That one is brown. This area here is white. Do you understand now?"

"This is paint and the air is a canvas," Buffy started walking towards Willow as the realization jelled in her head, "We don't need Leshii's part of the amulet, do we? We can just plug this thing into a computer"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Dawn responded with a beaming smile, "But that's the basic idea"

"So simple as all things genius," Willow mumbled still gazing at the hovering mass of symbols.

"Cracking this thing was genius"

"I didn't say it wasn't"

"You are both amazing," Buffy rolled her eyes, "Now when can I have my picture?"

"Like I said, it's not that simple," Dawn poked the cloud with her finger and the elements swirled about, changing the pattern, "There's actually thousands, maybe millions of pictures. We'll have to find them all, render them, then somehow put them together in the right order."

"It could be a movie," Willow mused, "Twenty four shots per second would easily generate all that content"

"We'll be so lucky if these pictures are sequential, but they may not be. It could easily be some sort of a million piece jigsaw puzzle that we have hopelessly scrambled with two months of poking and prodding"

The witch turned to the girl, cute little furrows forming in her forehead.

"What we need is a pattern recognition program," she said pensively.

"Way ahead of you," Dawn grabbed the book she was reading earlier off the coffee table, pointing the cover at Willow, "Latest and greatest in the field of computer vision. I found a few chapters I think we can use"

"Show me," the redhead hurried over to the couch. Dawn plunked with the book next to her.

"What are you doing?!" Willow suddenly shrieked noticing the Slayer fiddling with the cloud, "Didn't you hear what we just said? Stop poking it!"

"You've got your methods, I've got mine," Buffy replied dragging her hand across the cloud.

"Relax, Willow, " Dawn pulled the witch back into her seat, "After the things I've done to it over the last six weeks, it can't get anymore messed up. Now take a look at this chapter..."

As her two favorite eggheads huddled together over a book, Buffy spend the next thirty minutes watching the symbols float to and fro in response to her ministrations until she finally pulled her hand out and turned to the girls on the couch.

"Hey. Yo, geniuses!" she shouted failing to get a response to her original call, "I think I know what this is," she said once their eyes were on her, "It's that Earth Viewer2 thingie they keep using on CNN. You know, when they map all that Iraq fighting?"

"A map?" Willow repeated doubtfully

"A fancy map. Look," Buffy moved her hand left in a straight line, then right, "Scrolling east, scrolling west. Now north and south," she continued gesturing up and down now.

"I've seen this pattern before," Dawn responded dismissively, "There are a lot of things that are scrollable besides a map. If this was all it did I'd consider it, but it does other stuff, too"

"You mean, like this?" Buffy plunged her hand deep into the cloud completely transforming the number and groupings of the element symbols, "Pay attention to this little bit here, " she said pointing to the northeast corner, "Water symbols are bigger here, so it's blueish. Now watch," she twisted the hand inside the cloud then pulled it towards her slowly. "Now this entire quadrant is various shades of blue with a little smidgen of green in the middle. In a humble opinion of this non-genius, but still above average Slayer, we just zoomed in on a lake with a little island in it"

Without a word both girls got off the couch and joined Buffy in front of the amulet.

"It's a map," Dawn said at last.

"A fancy map," Willow echoed.

"Now that we are in agreement, when can I have it?"

"It's not that simple, Buffy"

"Still?"

"The map is ten thousand years old," Willow proceeded to explain, "That's pretty old, even by geological standards. The ice age was just beginning to recede. All these lakes, and rivers, and forests are probably deserts now. Those white areas are probably glaciers which are totally gone and replaced by new rivers, lakes, and forests. The coastlines are completely different, too. The mountains stood pat for the most part, but that's about it."

"Are you saying that after all the brilliance of our combined IQs we've got nothing useful?"

"We are not saying that," Dawn responded, "It's just not going to be simple. There are all kinds of ancient climate models out there, satellite images that show dried river and lake beds. We'll figure it out."

"What do you need exactly?"

"Let's see," Dawn hesitated, "Access to any government agency or a major university that does paleogeography research. NASA, for sure. Military satellite images would be great, they have the best resolution."

"We'll need people," said Willow

"Right, " Dawn nodded, "Programmers to put all that data together"

"Assuming you'll have all the access, people, and hardware you need in twenty four hours, how long till I get my map?"

"Three weeks, maybe four"

"Alright, Dawn, it's your baby, you run with it"

"Me? Computers are Willow's thing"

"Organizing is your thing and this sounds like a whole lot of organizing. I'm counting on you, Dawn. This is important apocalypse related stuff and you are in charge. If you need to use Willow, feel free to. You do have some time to spare, don't you?" Buffy turned to witch.

"I've been pretty busy with Parreli and that First dematerialization spell, but I should have a couple hours free most days"

"There you go. How's that going, by the way?"

"Almost done, actually," Willow stated proudly, "Should be ready for the first attempt in a week or two"

"Today is just full of excellent news!" Buffy smiled widely, "I feel like a celebratory dinner. Who's in?"

"I don't think I can," Dawn patted her belly, "I went through two bowls of popcorn working on this thing"

"Seriously?"

"It's your fault, you suggested it. Now if I also smoked hash during the search, like I suggested, I'd totally have dinner with you. Several of them"

"Fine," Buffy chuckled, "But tomorrow morning I want to see you eating a nice healthy breakfast. With fruit, no less."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The trip up to the cafeteria took only seven minutes. It would have taken even less if Buffy didn't have to stop every couple of flights to let Willow catch up.

"Are you that hungry?" panted the redhead completely out of breath.

"I'm that excited"

"You must really like maps"

"I don't care about the map. Well, I care about the map. It's Dawn. This project is perfect for her. It's important enough for her to care about, it has nothing to do with Leshii, and it takes place entirely within the safe confines of the Club. It could not be more perfect!"

This was the last dinner shift and pizza trays were almost empty, except for the margherita. One of the most stressing culture shocks Buffy experienced when she moved to Rome was how shoddy the pizza was compared to what she was used to in Sunnydale. This was not what she expected from the nation that invented the culinary masterpiece. Sure, cheap delivery chains produced something that tasted akin to the cardboard it was brought in, but gourmet California pizza turned out to be head and shoulders above anything made here. With one exception, margherita. The deceptively simple one-topping concoction had no equal across the ocean. The unappreciative teenage slayers barely touched it, preferring its more colorful multi-topping cousins. More for Buffy. Grabbing the first slice off the giant pile on her plate she closed her eyes and savored the bite. Non-pasteurized cheese is banned in the States. That was secret. It's always about the cheese. Buffy opened her eyes as the pleasant sensation in her taste buds was overridden by the over-enunciated tone of the TV anchor.

"Please, put something else on, Willow"

"I want to watch the news"

"And I don't want to hear this again"

Willow pressed mute on the remote and turned to Buffy.

"You have to stop this. You can't feel guilty about everything anyone does that's even remotely Leshii related. So we happened to benefit from this operation, doesn't mean we are responsible."

"It wasn't an operation, it was a massacre. The unofficial toll is over three hundred, including women and kids. They weren't all working for Leshii"

"Leshii's capabilities in Rio have been crippled, if not destroyed outright. It's a good thing. You don't have to be happy about how it happened, but you shouldn't be blaming yourself, either. If a Brazilian army decides to clear gangs out of a Brazilian city they will do it regardless of how you feel. It's not like we told them to..." Willow stopped mid-sentence as her hand flashed towards the television. The broadcast froze momentarily, then ran in reverse.

"Look at Willow the human TiVo. If you can do this, why are we wasting thirty euros every month?" Buffy smile was not returned. The scrolling slowed down then stopped. Plastered on the forty inch screen was a column of personnel carriers with the commander's jeep in the middle of the convoy. Willow moved her thumb away from her index finger and the screen zoomed in on the car. Buffy dropped the slice back on her plate as her eyes transfixed on the person in the backseat next to the general.

"This is impossible," she mumbled

"It's her," Willow stated grimly.

"It can't be! This was yesterday, she was here yesterday. She was eating lunch with us right here! How could...?" Only one way it could. Buffy bolted from the table overturning her chair and rushed to the nearest staircase.

Transporter room one was two stories down from the cafeteria. The idea was Andrew's so he got to name the installations. Despite all the communication technology available to the Council, occasional face to face meetings were still necessary, but with Leshii capable of procuring bombs and missiles at will, flying was much too dangerous. Since Buffy already had witches guarding each of the offices Andrew proposed they employ ones with teleportation ability. An area next to their living quarters would be used for moving branch heads to and fro as well as emergency evacuation if necessary. Rome's teleportation pad, aka, 'transporter room one" was the common area of the two bedroom suite given to the resident witches. When Buffy burst inside, both of them, a warlock in his forties and his noticeably older wife were playing gin on top of the red pentagram inscribed into the floor.

"Alright, which one of you teleported my sister to Rio yesterday?"

"That would be me," the look on the Slayer's face made the warlock a bit hesitant with the answer.

"What is this, Greyhound? Do you see the sign?" Buffy pointed to the wall opposite the door, "From where I stand it says 'Authorized Personnel Only'. What does it say from over there?"

"Miss Summers was authorized"

"And you just took her word for it?"

The witches looked at each other for second then the woman got up and walked over to the filing cabinet next to the television. After rifling through the folders for a few seconds she pulled out a paper and handed it to Buffy.

"This is a blanket authorization allowing Miss Summers to be teleported to the location of her choosing at the time of her choosing. I believe all transporter rooms received one of these."

Buffy stared blankly at the signature on the form then crumpled the sheet in her fist.

"Watcher Academy. Now," she said stepping onto the pentagram.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Buffy blew past the door of Giles' office without a word. She marched all the way to his desk and slammed the crumbled authorization fax right in front of the Watcher.

"Explain this!"

Giles glanced at the paper then at Buffy.

"Is there some ambiguity?" he asked calmly.

"It was supposed to be strictly controlled, limited exposure! Now you go behind my back and let Dawn loose full steam into this damn war?!"

Giles removed his glasses and began to slowly wipe the lenses with the checkered handkerchief.

"What we agreed was that limited exposure would be healthier than complete isolation. We did not speak of what the limits should be. As for going behind you back, that is simply impossible since you were the one who gave me full discretion to handle Leshii as I see fit while you address the threat posed by the First Evil"

"Don't play word games with me, Giles! I would never allow Dawn to be used like this!"

"I don't think you understand, Buffy. I'm not using her. She is using me. Dawn is the one running this war, she has been from the start. My role is merely to legitimize her orders. We were concerned our law enforcement allies would not take her seriously otherwise. Although as they see her in action it becomes less and less of an issue"

"Are you hearing yourself? This is crazy!"

"Perhaps it is. After all, we are facing a maniac and Dawn is the only one who knows how he thinks"

"She doesn't know how he thinks, she thinks like he thinks! That's the point! I'm doing all I can to pull Dawn back from the brink while you are pushing her over the edge!"

Giles put down his glasses and leaned back in his chair. For a moment he just watched the Slayer standing over him, trembling with anger, both of her hands firmly planted into the tabletop.

"I understand how you feel, Buffy. You've been through much, but you are still young, and as many young people do, you think the situation you find yourself in is unique. This is not the first war that has ever been fought. Dawn is not first to be thrust into one. It happens over and over. Thousands, millions of good people are forced to do what they must to win, to protect those they love. Things they would never do otherwise. It is inevitable, and just as inevitable, wars end. These people go back to their families and friends and go on to live normal lives. Though they may never forget what they've done, they do forgive themselves"

"The way you plan to forgive yourself for what you are doing to Dawn?"

"Buffy..."

"Go to hell, Giles! You go to hell!"

The reverberations of a slammed oak door shook every furniture piece in the office. The books from the top two shelves rained down onto the floor. A half-full bottle of eighteen year old scotch teetered on edge for a second then fell. A thick sixteenth century volume softened the impact and it didn't shutter. Giles sat in his chair unmoving and watched the amber liquid seep slowly from the loosened cork, filling the room with a pleasant smoky aroma.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Willow crouched on the comfy chair with both feet folded under her as she apprehensively watched Buffy pace clockwise around the living room literally shaking with indignation.

"He just sat there, smug as a … as a Watcher! He bluffed me with Robson, but he's not getting away with it this time. I've had it, Willow, he's fired, he is so fired!"

"You can't fire Giles"

"He'll be fine," Buffy waved the witch off, "He gets fired all the time"

"That's not what I mean. You are struggling to control the watchers as it is. What do you think is going to happen when you try to get rid of their leader?"

"Then they can all go to hell! We'll run the whole thing ourselves like we should have done from the beginning!"

"Leaving the craziness of that statement aside for the moment, what makes you think they'll just leave? The last time you had it out with the watchers you had leverage. They needed a Slayer and you were the only one not doing twenty five to life. Those days are gone. They have access to over eight hundred slayers and they won't give them up just because you say so. You try to push them out – they'll take the girls with them"

"They aren't theirs to take!"

"Aren't they? They are not your sisters, they are not your friends. They like you well enough, but if it comes down to a choice between men who speak their language, know their culture, who are there every day teaching them, having dinner with their families, and some strange American girl who drops in for a couple of hours every two months, who do you think they'll pick?"

Buffy stopped in her tracks. She stared at Willow for a few seconds as the anger melted from her face. She shuffled listlessly over to the couch and dropped onto the cushions.

"I'm not strange," she pouted, "I'm fun, and witty, and have great taste in shoes!"

"All wonderful qualities that will earn you your share of slayers, maybe even the majority, but hundreds will leave. You will tear the whole sisterhood apart. You can't do that, not now"

"This sucks! What good is it being in charge when nobody listens to you and you can't fire them!"

"Welcome to the world of high politics," Willow gave her best attempt at a smile.

"Then we play the game," Buffy spoke after a considerable pause, "The slayers might not be one big sorority, but neither are the watchers. We should exploit that, get some on our side"

"They have their disagreements, but they all agree on hating you"

"Not all of them," Buffy jumped up from the couch visibly excited again, "True, I pissed off a whole bunch of people in the last eight years, but most of them are Parreli's age, itching to retire. There'll be a fifty percent turnover in the next two years. We have a chance to start clean with the new Academy graduates"

"You mean the ones educated by the old guard?"

To Willow's surprise the smile percolating on Buffy's lips got even wider. She approached the comfy chair, placed her hands on the armrests, and leaned in close.

"And there in lies the second part of my brilliant plan, Dean Rosenberg"

"Excuse me?"

"It's perfect!" Buffy pulled away and started counterclockwise around the couch, "Your guest lectures got rave reviews last year. Even if the other watchers suspect something I know Giles will support the appointment. We'll gain full access to students, input into the day to day curriculum. Teach these baby watchers the slayer perspective. This is going to work."

"Yes, the plan is good. You just need to find the right person to pull it off"

Buffy turned abruptly and stared at the witch who seemed to be trying to phase into the chair.

"I have the right person. You are the only one who can do it"

"That's where you're wrong, I can't do it!"

"Willow, this isn't funny anymore. I can't do everything myself. We're talking survival of the Slayer Council here, your Council. You put more thought and effort into it than I did!"

"I know! I can't be responsible for something this important!" she jumped off the chair and tried to straighten up before the stern glare of her friend, "I'm not doing it and that's final! I'm a grown woman and you can't make me!" she lasted about three seconds before scrambling behind her bedroom door with a frightened yelp. Making a serious effort to keep herself calm Buffy walked over and reached for the knob. The air shimmered, keeping her hand away.

"A force field? Are you serious? Willow, get out here right now! I know you can hear me!"

"No, I can't!" the witch shouted from behind her barricade, "This barrier is also soundproof! I mean...starting now!"

"For God's sakes! Willow! Willow!" Buffy wound up for a punch, but when her hand reached the door, the open palm slid off the force field along with her body. She sat there on the wooden floor for over an hour. Please, Willow, don't do this to me. There was no answer. Not a word disturbed the air or the thoughts in her head. She was completely alone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was probably the three longest rings of Buffy's life when the sleepy voice on the other end finally answered.

"Hello?"

"I don't want to do this anymore, Xander"

The receiver responded with a deep sigh. "Buffy, you've been a Slayer for eight years. You'll be one for eighty more. Get over it already!"

"What? That's not at all..," she stuttered, more than a little startled by the response, "Why are you being so mean?"

"Because it's four in the morning"

"No, it's not. You are only an hour ahead of us"

"And what time is it in Rome?"

"It's..Oh, God! I'm so sorry! I'll call you back later, I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, it's alright," the tired voice followed with another sigh, "Snyder the Rooster will wake me up in half an hour anyway. Did I tell you we have poultry at the compound?"

"Yes"

"Oh, " Xander was definitely having trouble waking, "You talk then. What is it you are not doing anymore?"

"That thing we take turns doing. The one where we get into trouble and keep it from the others until we get so deep it blows into everybody's face. I'm not doing that anymore"

"Good for you," the subsequent pause was short lived, "You've called to drag me into your problems, haven't you?"

"Is that okay?"

"Sure," Xander sighed, "Lay it on me Slayer-girl"

And she did. In one continuous two hour monologue she laid out everything that has been crushing her soul these last few months. Dawn, Willow, Giles, everything. Xander kept silent for almost the entire time. Though he already knew or guessed most of what Buffy was telling, simply letting her vent would be healing in and of itself. It was when she told him what really happened to Dawn during her kidnapping that he finally broke down.

"Those bastards!" his voice reverberated in the receiver as he tried in vain to control himself, "If I got my hands on them..."

"Dawn got her hands on them," Buffy interrupted, "It just made things worse. I guess. I don't know. I don't know what else I can do. I want to, Xander. I want to fight for them, but I don't know how. Tell me what to do"

"Alright," she could hear him take a deep breath on the other end, "I'll start with what I know best. You think of Willow as this smart, shy, but ultimately brave, and incredibly powerful woman who can do anything. She can't. She can't lead, Buffy. Not that she isn't smart enough, or likable enough, or patient enough. Willow has everything necessary to succeed and that's the problem. She lacks the ability to fail. You see, while others may suffer when a hero fails, she's usually no longer around to witness that. A leader's mistakes, on the other hand, are almost always paid for by somebody else. Effective leadership requires you to shrug it off and move on. You can do it, but Willow can't. She is simply unable to sacrifice of anyone, but herself. Do not put her in that position. Give her time to recover and she will eventually rise to the occasion. Just don't push her, you'll break her again and this time it may be permanent," He paused expecting some sort of a retort, but there was only strangely accepting silence, "Now to Dawn. She has certainly grown up in the past year, more so than she should have and you should treat her accordingly. You won't intimidate her by yelling and you won't outargue her either, she's smarter than you"

"So I am supposed do nothing again?" Buffy finally interrupted in frustration.

"I didn't say that. You've been approaching her as a big sister. Try doing it as a mother"

"I don't think I get it"

"Guilt, Buffy. The ultimate weapon of a parent. You may not have given birth to Dawn in a literal sense, but metaphysically you are responsible for her existence and you've saved her physical butt too many times to count. That girl has guilt issues galore, use it to your advantage"

"I'm going to need a little training here; mom didn't do this to me all that much"

"Lucky for you, you are talking to an expert victim here. Basically try to avoid direct confrontation, no arguing, no giving orders. Simply lots of offhanded remarks about how much you've done for her and how everything she's doing is making you miserable. We can do some exercises later"

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy nodded into her phone, "What do we do about Giles?"

"Unfortunately the psyche of middle-aged British guys is not my area of expertise. Now young British girls..he-he...no, nothing there either. I can give you my thoughts on the Beatles breakup"

"No, it's alright," she chuckled lightly, "Xander," she spoke quietly after a pause, "I don't just shrug it off. I move on, yes, but it's hard. I don't want you to think it's easy. I don't want you seeing me as some coldhearted bitch"

"That's where you are in luck. The eye I have left is the one that sees your good side"

"Xander!"

"Sorry, bad joke"

"Very bad joke!"

"I know I promised no more eye jokes, I'm sorry"

"Very, very bad joke!"

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Can I still do the one-eyed snake jokes? Technically that's an entirely different body part"

They fell quiet for a moment. In the descended silence Buffy could hear the bellowing of cattle, the rattle of metal tools or weapons. Rome was just getting its first light, but life in Zambia was already in full swing.

"Do you want me to teleport over?"

"So it's not Willow, my mind is just that easy to read," Buffy smiled, "No, I can't ask that. I've been hogging you too much as it is. Your girls need you. Not that I don't, I always do, but I'm much better now. Thank you, Xander"

"I'm always here for you, Buffy. Even at four in the morning. Grouchy, but here"

"I know. I'll talk to your later," she closed the flip on her phone and sat it on the nightstand. Powering through the blinds the rising sun colored the room various shades of gold. It was still an hour before the alarm would sound, but Buffy didn't bother closing her eyes. She didn't feel the need.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The left section of the gym door was closed forcing Kate to enter sideways to make sure the giant mallet she was carrying didn't catch on the door frame.

"It took me a while, but I finally found it. So what am I supposed to smash?" she asked turning to Buffy, "Is it her?" she nodded towards a strange girl sitting on the mats.

"Good God, no!" Nikki exclaimed almost dropping her book.

"Kate, this is Nikki," Buffy made the introduction, "She's doing some important slayer research and we are helping her by setting up a little experiment."

"So I'm smashing that thing then?" Kate pointed to the large conspicuous object at Nikki's feet, a wheel with metal cutouts of human shapes.

"You are not smashing anything!" Buffy stepped quickly in between her and the rest of the room.

"Then why did you ask me to bring the mallet?"

Buffy bit her lip then took a deep breath.

"You are not smashing anything, yet. When Willow gets here she and Nikki will use that wheel to open a portal. I will jump in and a demon will jump out," Buffy stopped as she gave the young slayer a meaningful look, but the girl just stared back blankly. The pause kept growing. "You smash the demon, Kate!" she finally snapped.

"That was my next guess," the girl answered unfazed, "But since I got it wrong twice already I didn't want to presume. So why the mallet? Is it stabbing immune?"

"Don't think so," Buffy replied, "Just want to keep the splatter internal. The walls here don't wash easily. And here is Willow," she smiled waving at the witch.

"How do you do?" the watcher scrambled to her feet to greet her.

"You must be Nikki," the redhead shook her hand, "It's good to finally meet you in person"

"Actually we already met. I was at your lecture at the Academy last November. Animate to inanimate transmogrification?" the young woman paused momentarily hoping for a response, "I had a question for you? I didn't actually ask it, we were out of time, but I had my hand up. Third row, fifth seat from the left? That's alright," she smiled awkwardly, "I'm not very memorable"

"I wouldn't say that," Willow replied and Buffy noticed the young watcher's already blushing cheeks gaining in color.

"Shall we get down to business?"

Following Buffy's inviting gesture Nikki sat herself back down at the wheel and clicked the last shadow caster figure into position. Willow turned down the gym lights and took a sit nearby. Buffy gave Kate an approving nod as the girl prudently positioned herself in between the wheel and the door. The Slayer herself remained stationary. If memory served her right the portal should appear about two feet to the left. Getting the final go ahead signal in a form of a pointed finger Nikki span the wheel and began reciting the text. Buffy heard it last more than a year ago, but she still remembered it well enough to follow along even as the Slayer creation legend flowed in Sumerian. Nikki was definitely better versed in the language than Dawn was back in Sunnydale and there were no pauses or stumbling. She was apparently even trying to imitate the original pronunciation. It was a little sad, actually. The poor girl was trying very hard and very futilely to make an impression on people who couldn't tell Sumerian from Samaritan. Sumerian and Samaritan?! When did she become a person who finds this funny? Buffy's agonizing over the nerdish turn in her sense of humor was cut short by the appearance of the portal.

"Kate, get ready. I'm going in"

Buffy dived inside and the silvery doorway shuttered behind her. The young slayer lifted her mallet preparing to strike down whatever would appear in its place. Like a compressed spring she stood there without so much as a twitch for almost five minutes.

"So, how long is it supposed to take?" she finally decided to inquire of the two experts in the room. The witch and the watcher each stared at the other hoping she wouldn't be the one to have to say the fateful words.

"Something's wrong," they answered in unison.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The landing was soft. A short roll on the sand and Buffy was on her feet again. The desert looked very different this time around. Her first visit here she was almost blinded by the light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Now the sun was low on the horizon and the sand reflected blood red. The scarce light prevented her from seeing too far out, but she could tell the Shadow Men weren't around to greet her this time. Good thing, too, since she had no desire of getting knocked unconscious again. The cave they have taken her afterward couldn't be too far from here. The large rock formation out in the distance was the logical place to start looking. The walk turned out to be a bit more grueling than Buffy expected. The dessert had too few markers to properly judge the distance. Still, she was not disappointed, a large crack in the volcanic rock face appeared before her almost as soon as the sand beneath her boots turned to flat stone. Having come prepared Buffy took a small halogen flashlight out of her pocket and carefully stepped inside. It was mostly as she remembered. Restraints wielded into the stone. Chains. A stand with the lock box. An open lock box. Buffy tensed a bit as she moved further in, making it a point to sweep continuously with her flash light. The box was supposed to contain a very powerful demonic essence. Did it escape? Ran amok and killed the Shadow Men? The cave appeared to be clean, no bodies or blood. Perhaps the Shadow Men destroyed it instead. Without the essence there was no need for them to stay so they left. Left where? Is there anything else in this world besides the desert? Slowly, but surely Buffy made her way to the end of the cave.

"There's nothing here," she sighed out loud.

"Nothing here," a voice echoed from the entrance. Buffy turned and thrust her light in the direction of the sound. At the mouth of the cave stood a figure of a young black woman covered in phosphoric white war paint.

"The First Slayer," Buffy greeted the visitor

"Slayer," the woman answered.

"It's nice to see a familiar face"

"A familiar face," came the reply.

"So where has everybody gone?"

"Everybody gone"

The smile vanished from Buffy's face.

"Is there an echo here?" she said getting a little annoyed.

"Echo here"

The Slayer could only roll her eyes. Cryptic was one thing. It's pretty much a requirement for a quality vision, but this was downright useless. Still, it could have been worse. Whatever this entity's purpose is she hasn't moved from her spot so she probably isn't hostile. Then again she is blocking the only exit. Perhaps there's something in this cave she is supposed to do or see. She swept the cave with the flashlight one more time.

"There's nothing here," she said, frustrated.

"Nothing here," the First Slayer repeated.

"Exactly. The only weird thing here is you, so what's your purpose?"

"Your purpose"

"Apparently it's repeating my words"

"Repeating your words"

"You know, I'm this close to throwing this flashlight at you. Wait," Buffy paused mid smirk, "This wasn't what I said," she stepped to within a few feet of the woman, "You are actually answering me, aren't you? What are you?"

"An echo, a familiar face"

"What happened here?"

"Gone. Empty. Nothing"

"Why? What happened?" there was no answer. "My words," Buffy nodded, "You need more words. 'Aardvark', 'Abacus', no, " she waived herself off, "That's stupid. 'Yes', 'No', 'Shadow Men', 'Demon', 'Slayer', "Dead', 'Portal'..Come on!" she exclaimed as the woman before her kept silent, "There must be something here you can use!"

"Use"

"Use," Buffy nodded, "Okay. 'Use', 'User', 'Used', 'Using'.."

"Used," First Slayer turned her head, "Gone. Empty"

Buffy followed her gaze to the open lock box on the stand.

"Used," she repeated quietly, "It's us. We used it all up, didn't we? Makes sense, but slayers died. Wouldn't some of it come back?"

"No"

Buffy sighed as she sat down on the rock floor and and leaned against the cave wall.

"There was never a power cycle. That's how multiple slayers could exist simultaneously." Thinking out loud wasn't something she did often, but the Slayer shaped echo standing before her made it seem most appropriate, "The power always flowed one way from a finite source. One slayer dies another is born was just a safeguard to make sure it lasted. At an average lifespan of four years the line could have gone on for another four millennia. Now the best case scenario is seventy years and that's assuming a geriatric slayer can still cut it. On the positive side we have enough time to fix this. We can fix it, can't we?"

"Yes"

"That's all? Can't you at least give me a hint?"

"Give"

"Oh," Buffy chuckled, a little smug, "Do I have a word for you. 'Gift'"

"Give back the Gift"

"Give it back?" Buffy repeated, confused, "How am I supposed to that? 'Death is your gift'. That's what you told me the last time. Well, maybe not you, but she looked like you. A co-worker, perhaps? You do know what I'm talking about, right?"

"She must give the Gift back"

"'She'? As in not me? Hold on," Buffy jumped to her feet and looked suspiciously at the painted figure in front of her, "I'm not sure I'm liking where this is going. Who is 'she'?"

At once the air around her went dark. She could actually see it, streams of black with reddish hue swarmed past her as she felt herself falling through the ground. Instinctively Buffy tried to grasp at the ethereal veins circling about faster and faster, only her fingers just clasped onto themselves as the world turned into a blur. She felt herself accelerating, falling somewhere she couldn't see. Buffy closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning and braced for impact when someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Buffy?" the Slayer opened her eyes to find herself on the mat with Kate kneeling over.

"If you are about to tell me I was here passed out this whole time I'll be very upset"

"No, you just dropped in from a funky purple whirlpool. It's gone now"

"Great," Buffy said getting up, "You've got some timing, Willow. I was just getting to the good stuff. How soon can you send me back in?"

"We didn't bring you back, Buffy" Nikki responded instead.

"I was totally going to," Willow quickly jumped in, "I swear, I was this close"

"Please," Kate scoffed, "You were so panicked you couldn't even get the air to shimmer."

"As opposed to how helpful you've been with your genius idea of smashing things!" the witch shot back.

"Everybody, relax!" Buffy put her hands out, "I'm here, everything's fine, or is it?" she quickly glanced around the gym. "If you didn't bring me back then what happened to the demon?"

"There wasn't one," Nikki answered, "We tried to trigger the wheel again, but it's gone completely inert, like it was drained of all magic. Whatever created the exit portal didn't come from here. I have no idea how you came back or how to send you in again"

"The last hurray," Buffy mumbled, "No more slayers, no need for a portal."

"What do you mean?" Nikki perked up, "What happened there?"

"I think I'll need a few days to process. I'll get back to you"

"Very well," said the watcher doing a poor job of hiding her disappointment, "I'll leave my number and email. Whenever you have time..."

"Are you leaving already?"

"I'm sorry, I just assumed you don't need me anymore"

"And I assumed you would take this opportunity to spend some actual time with some actual slayers. You are a watcher, aren't you? Or did you choose the Academy for its wild parties?"

"Of course, I would love to," the young woman stuttered at the thought of having offended the Slayer, "But I have already been placed with the Office of Finance. It was not my first choice, but having just matriculated, I have not yet earned the privilege of picking my commission"

"Well, I believe I have earned the privilege. I'll have Giles transfer you. With Andrew gone the girls could use another newbie watcher to torment. That is if you feel up to it."

"Absolutely," Nikki nodded eagerly, "I'll start right away, ma'am"

"You don't have to be so formal all of a sudden. I'm your boss regardless of where you work," she smirked.

As Nikki proceeded to take apart the wheel Buffy tapped Willow's shoulder.

"Ask her out," she thought as loud as she could

"Excuse me?" the witch startled by the telepathic shout.

"She's cute, she's smart, and she's got a huge crush on you. Ask her out"

"I can't just...we just met!"

"I'm giving you thirty seconds to ask her out and then I'll ask her for you and it will be a lot more embarrassing, trust me"

Willow gulped and took a few steps towards the crouching young woman.

"So, Nikki," she started out hesitantly, "Since you are staying I thought I could help you get started on the whole Italian thing, like a cup of espresso at a sidewalk cafe. Tomorrow perhaps?"

"I don't think so," the watcher replied matter of fact as she stacked the metal shadow casters, "I'm really not into that"

"Oh," Willow's expression was that of someone who just walked into a wall, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume..."

"No!" Nikki jumped up waving her off, "No, no, no! I'm into that! I mean, I don't drink coffee. I mean, I'd love to...go...somewhere," she stuttered out now fully beet red.

"Purple Moon," Buffy interrupted to everyone's relief, "It's perfect. They have, like, five hundred kinds of tea. Same with coffee. Great music, low enough so you can talk and loud enough so you don't have to. Actually you should go right now. You'll need their magic business card for the door to appear," she fumbled inside her pockets, "There it is. What?" she asked going off Nikki's look.

"I'm sorry I just don't see many women using a money clip"

"Standard gear for every on-duty slayer. Our purse casualties went down ninety five percent since the adoption," Willow happily explained.

"This is the important stuff they don't cover at the Academy," said Buffy, "That's why you'll be spending time in the field. Later. Now you leave. If you hurry you'll make it by the start of the happy hour. It's not an alcohol thing," she responded to the objection that didn't even have to leave Willow's lips, "It's an hour when everyone's happy. You have to be there," she answered the now puzzled expression, "Just go". She practically pushed the girls out and remained in the doorway to make sure they traveled in the direction of the staircase.

"There goes Willow on a date. And to think it only took six months," Buffy mused as the pair disappeared out the corridor.

"If she brings her to Stefka's party it'll be two dates in a week," said Kate stacking the rolled up mats back against the wall.

"That's right. Stefka's surprise party is this Thursday; I completely forgot"

"Aren't you coming?" Kate asked sensing the disappointment in Buffy's voice.

"I can't, I have to go to India tomorrow. There's some Order of Taraka slayer seeking demon. It killed two girls already. We're setting up a trap and I'm playing the bait. Unless I get super lucky there's no way I can make it back in time"

"That sucks. Do you still want to pitch in for the present?"

"Of course, what are you getting her?"

"A Vespa scooter!" Kate announced proudly, "It's not new, but it's in excellent condition, I checked it out myself."

"That's pretty cool," Buffy nodded approvingly, "What do I owe?"

"It's thirty euros per. Whatever is left over will go towards catering. Samira is organizing it"

"Sounds good," Buffy took the bills out of her clip then after a momentary hesitation put them back, "Actually we are meeting for lunch so I'll just give it to her then"

It was a nice try, but it didn't work. Lying was never her strong suit. Kate's eyes widened and her entire body practically shook with indignation.

"I borrow money, I don't steal it!"

"Technically, if you borrow, but don't return..."

"You said I can pay you back 'whenever'!"

"That was three months ago"

"Well, excuse me for taking you at you word! What do I owe you, fifty?"

"Just forget it, Kate"

"No, no," the German was practically writhing as she angrily tried to pull her clip out of her tight hip hugging jeans, "I don't need your charity! If I owe you fifty..."

"Eighty, actually"

"If I owe you eighty," Kate went on, "Then eighty you shall have," taking a momentary gander at her clip she shoved it back into her pocket, "The second you return from India. Now, if you excuse me," the girl shot out the door just slow enough to preserve the last remaining shred of her dignity.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The shortest route from the dorms to the Club gym that intersected a coffee maker lay through the break room on the fifth floor. Housing mostly meeting rooms, as well as Buffy's and Parreli's offices, it was usually the emptiest section of the Clubhouse. Even more so after what happened in the main conference two months ago. Stefka briskly passed by the boarded up entrance determine to get her coffee and leave this area as quickly as possible, but the light in a small neighboring room pulled her astray. She opened the door to find Dawn in front of piles of multicolored folders.

"Good morning," she called out to the girl.

"Is it?"

"Not if you spent all night in here, I suppose"

"I mean, is it morning? I had fun here. Not the 'hair full of glitter' fun, but it works for me"

Stefka smiled awkwardly running her hand through her blonde locks. "I haven't taken a shower yet; was going to work out first"

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night. Totally lost track of time going through all these reports"

"No you didn't," the slayer's face at once turned stern, "You are just covering for them. They told you not to come, didn't they?"

"It's their surprise party," Dawn shrugged, "They have the right to invite who they want"

"It's my birthday and I wanted to be with my best friend"

"And you will be tomorrow, your actual birthday. You are finally part of the in-crowd, bordering on popular; don't piss it off on my account."

"You got flack all the time for bringing me along," Stefka stepped forward now standing flush against the desk, "I don't have a clue how it got turned around like this, but I'm not going to abandon you"

"It's not the same, Stefka. With you they just needed time to see who you really are"

"Who I really am brought all this death and misery upon them!"

"The girls aren't stupid," Dawn shook her head, "You don't get to choose who your family is. When you did have a choice they saw you chose them over Leshii and they are starting to get that you've always put them first. Ahead of your own safety, your reputation. All those things they hated you for are saving their lives now. Not to mention the actual life saving you are doing practically every mission. They still think you are a freak, but they are starting to appreciate that. I, on the other hand, wasn't born Leshii's sister. I chose to bring him into their world and in their eyes that makes me responsible for what happened since. If it wasn't for Buffy they would have thrown me out long ago. Probably through the window," she smirked.

"They are not blaming you, Dawn, not really. It's just like it was with me, they don't understand why you do what you do, but they will. I may be the one going out on missions every so often, but you are the one going at it day and night. This," she pointed to the papers scattered on the table, "is saving more lives than I ever could. Just give it some time, they will realize and..."

"I don't care. They are not the ones I do this for"

"Don't say that! For Christ's sake, Dawn, stop ranking lives, only terrible things can come of it!"

A strange smile washed over Dawn's face. She leaned back in her chair and stared attentively at Stefka's almost teary face.

"So you know about the little witches. Makes sense. You are a Board member now so you have the run of the classified files. I'm not ashamed. It was Buffy who ordered the official report censored. I made the best possible choice given what I had to work with and I stand by it. I guess you disagree."

"Vehemently," the slayer said softly.

"Fair enough," Dawn nodded and gestured invitingly towards the nearest chair, "Educate me then. What would you do? Well, not you; a you you would have an actual chance of saving them, but a me you, a non kung fu you?"

"Nothing," Stefka answered not moving from her spot, "I would do nothing"

"And let Leshii kill all of them?"

"You don't know what he would do"

"That's a cop out if I ever heard one!" Dawn exclaimed waving the girl off , "You know damn well I couldn't take that chance"

"No, I don't," the slayer replied calm as ever, "That's the point. Influencing the choices of others is a noble cause, but in the end the choices you are responsible for are your own. 'Thou shall not kill' You chose otherwise."

"What I chose was to help at least some of them survive!"

"The so called, Greater Good. By taking the chances of survival of those six to zero you brought the chances of the others to a reasonable level. I'm not questioning your math, Dawn. I'm questioning the premise that numbers are ever an excuse to take a life."

"But it's always about the numbers! Even when a killer is pointing a gun at his victim there's a chance it will jam. Will you rely on that and do nothing, too?" The answer was so obvious the question was almost rhetorical. Almost.

"Yes," the slayer stated so plainly that Dawn did a double take to see if her straight face was for real, "If you are implying that the only way to stop him is to kill, then yes. It is not for me to decide who is more important. God sits in judgment of our lives. There's no greater sin than for one of us to usurp that"

"So everyone who ever killed is a sinner?" Stefka managed to dilute Dawn's sarcasm temporarily, but it was coming back stronger with every sentence, "Soldiers who defend their country and their families, all those cops protecting innocent citizens, inspector Rezinni who took out that sniper across the street, all of them committed crimes against God?"

"Yes, and I pray they understand that and repent"

"Don't you think it's a little hypocritical to say this while reaping the benefits of all those sins?"

"Do you think a policeman's family should be thankful for the existence of rapists and murderers that puts food on their table?" Stefka parried without hesitation, "We make the best of the world we live in, but I'd rather it be one where different choices are made"

"A world ruled by Nazis, that's what it would be! That's the Rome we'd live in now if millions of ordinary people didn't standup to Hitler's armies and did what they had to do for the Greater Good!"

"Don't you get it, Dawn?" despite the escalating excitement on the other end of the conversation the slayer continued to speak as softly as ever, "If it wasn't for millions of ordinary people doing what they had to do for what they believed was the Greater Good Hitler would have had no armies"

"Okay," the girl nodded with an appreciative smile, "You've got a point there: if everyone was good than everything would be good, but you had a better point before. We live in the world we get, not the one we want. Some people do evil and if the only way to stop them, to save the innocent, is to damn myself then that's the sacrifice I'm willing make"

The pause that followed was unexpected. The expression on Stefka's face has suddenly turned concerned, even fearful.

"You misunderstand everything. God isn't some capricious entity that punishes you for disobeying Him. He punishes you for doing Wrong. Don't you see? By equating sin to a noble sacrifice you are claiming moral superiority to God!"

"I guess that makes me Satan, doesn't it?" the girl chuckled.

"This isn't funny," the blonde slayer lowered her head trying to collect her thoughts. As she looked up again Dawn felt herself instinctively lean back in her chair under the weight of those blue eyes, "I'm not that naive, Dawn. I know I can't change you with a conversation. I just want you to think about something. It's been said to me once that morality is irrelevant. All that any of us really wants is to change the world into something ideal from our individual point of view. Thus as long as we evaluate the effects in their totality, any action taken that brings about a reality that's closer to our vision must be a correct one. I'm sure you heard something similar. It sounds very logical, but it is wrong. I knew it right away, but I didn't understand why until you came back. It's us. We are the choices we make. The action taken changes us. The new you may like the new world better where the old you may not. Travel that path far enough and you may easily destroy what you set out to save and you won't even realize it"

What Dawn was realizing, and quickly, was that she doesn't really know Stefka that well. During all the time they spent together the conversation flowed mostly one way. She never grasped just how intelligent this girl is and the question that's been nagging her for months has finally been answered. Why would Leshii just accept Stefka's choice of values and let her leave his protection rather than try to change her? It seemed so uncharacteristic that a man of his ability would surrender to something as pedestrian as childhood religious indoctrination. He didn't. Stefka was not some pig-headed zealot. She was as brilliant as her brother and the world she constructed for herself, though built on a different foundation, was just as logical and sturdy as his. Each one of them tried to bring the other into their universe, but being evenly matched they had no choice, but part ways. Did Buffy actually see something she missed? How much more of Leshii is there, underneath that sea of straw colored hair? She lacks Leshii's confidence, his clarity of purpose, but those come with age and then...

"I know you have many people in your life, Dawn," Stefka continued meanwhile, "People who are a lot more important to you than I am. I don't. I don't want to lose you"

"And I'd like to return the favor, by talking you out of the mission I hear you are planning," Dawn smiled uncomfortably, quickly changing the subject, "If this safe house is anything like the others it has nothing, but rigged explosives or other traps. We'll get no cooperation from Belarus police which means direct slayer to gun confrontation. We don't have a good track record there."

"Which is why I'm taking Willow. She'll give us all the cover we need and if things go really bad she'll teleport us out. This is our big chance, Dawn. We know Leshii used this house as recently as three weeks ago. It may contain clues to where he moved next. If Buffy was reachable at her India stake out, I'd get her blessing, but she isn't so it's my call"

"This is your first week back in charge. Do you really want to make that kind of call?"

"Tenure is irrelevant. Either I'm capable of making this decision or I hand the post back to Samira. I would appreciate your help planning, though"

"What do you think these are?" Dawn pointed to the scattered papers with a satisfied smile, "Now get your birthday butt in the chair already, you are giving me a neck strain"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The suites at the Rome clubhouse weren't completely identical. Due to the shape of the building the corner rooms were significantly larger than regular bedrooms and thus capable of housing twice the furniture. The choice to double up was voluntary and a few slayers chose to surrender some of the privacy in exchange for the premium view and a more palatial setup. By a twist of fate Kate and Enise have already been roommates at a sixth grade summer camp when the Turkish girl's family came to Munich on a construction contract. Reunited as slayers the girls jumped at the opportunity to live together and suite number seven became one of four housing three girls instead of two At the moment, however, Kate was alone in the common room watching TV which was exactly how Dasha intended it to be.

"I didn't know Stefka had birthday cake leftovers," she said noticing the seven layer tower of doe, cream, and fruit in front of the freckled redhead.

"She doesn't," the Kate replied sternly, pulling the plate towards her.

"Relax, I'm still on my diet. I did come here to ask you for something, though," Dasha joined the other slayer on the sofa, "I want your spot on Stefka's mission"

"Forget it," the German scoffed sending a forkful of cake down the gauntlet.

"Please, Kate. It's a joint mission with Cleveland which means Andrew is going to be there. I've only seen him once since the transfer"

"You know who else is going to be there? Willow. Willow never leaves Rome unless it's something super important. I haven't been picked for anything good since Istanbul, so forget it"

"Come on, Kate, you owe me"

"No, I don't"

"Yes, you do. You owe me two hundred and eighty euros"

"Oh," the next piece of cake paused in the air, "That kind of owe"

"That's right. Now you don't want it getting out that you can't pay your debts, do you?"

"I can pay. The stipend is in two days."

"It won't cover," Dasha shook her head.

"So I'll borrow the rest"

"You've borrowed from everyone already! Nobody is stupid enough to give you more"

"You lend me money all the time," the ginger girl responded somewhat confused.

"During the game, because I know you'll just loose it right back. For someone with a gambling problem you really are lousy at cards"

Failing to come up with an appropriate response Kate simply jammed an extra large piece into her mouth.

"I'll knock a hundred and thirty off," Dasha pressed on, "Come on, we'll both be happy"

"All of it," said Kate as soon as she swallowed enough to speak, "I want all of my debt canceled. I'm tired of never having any money! I want to keep my entire stipend for once"

"You still owe, like, fifteen hundred around the club. If the others find out you have money they'll want to be paid"

"I'll hide," the girl responded grimly, "Do we have a deal or not? I can tell Stefka I twisted my ankle"

"An upset stomach would be more believable," the Ukrainian smirked

"Go away before I change my mind, Dasha"

She didn't have to be asked twice. Leaving Kate to sulk over her plate of dessert the slayer hurried to her room to prepare for her upcoming battlefield date.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was a grim-looking, mostly wooden structure. The large two story house was surrounded by some unkempt farmland on one side and a birch forest on the other, its nearest neighbor was at least half a mile away. Expecting cellular service would clearly be too much. Stefka fixed one of the satellite phones to her belt and handed the other one to Andrew as the team gathered around Willow. The witch crouched on the ground and cast a few wisps of purple powder from her pouch. The slayers watched as it smoked and disappeared in a rainbow of green, red and yellow tones.

"There are no explosives in the vicinity. No electrical power at the house either," the witch said.

"It could still be a trap, " Stefka whispered. "How many people inside?"

"None," answered Willow after a slight pause. "No magic either. Just as our sources said, the house is abandoned"

"Alright," Stefka addressed the rest of the team. "We're going in. Always keep at least one of your comrades in sight and watch out for booby traps"

Two by two they entered through the heavy wooden door that appeared to be the only entryway into the structure. It seemed even older inside. The smell of mold was bursting into their nostrils and the squeaking of the floor boards strained their ear drums.

"Rhonda," Stefka spoke to the lead of the American contingent, "Have your team secure this level. Dasha will take my team to the second floor. Willow and I will check out the basement"

"Leaves our team one person short so Andrew comes with us," said Dasha and quickly grabbed the boy's hand.

"I don't think so," Stefka put her hand on his shoulder before his girlfriend could whisk him away, "This is a reconnaissance mission, not a make out party"

"I'm perfectly qualified to do both simultaneously," the young man responded with an ingratiating smile .

"Come on, girl," Rhonda nudged her counterpart, "Middle of nowhere, creepy abandoned house. It's hot. Don't you have a guy you wished would be here?"

"She doesn't need a guy; she's got a big fat candle in her nightstand," Dasha grumbled.

"That's so uncalled for!" Lily snapped as other slayers strained not to laugh, "You apologize!"

"What for? I meant she spends her nights in wholesome prayer. What did you think I meant?" the Ukrainian smirked leaving her opponent to stutter in dismay.

"Upstairs, both of you," Stefka commanded, cutting the scene short, "Andrew - basement"

It was a big house dotted with tiny bedrooms, closets, and pantries. All of them were stripped bare of everything, but paint, and the slayers moved on quickly from one to another. Routine sweep first; detailed examination to follow later. Dasha was about to take the pull down stairs into the attic when she noticed another door in the far corner. She signaled Oksana to head up without her and went to check out the last room of the second story. The door opened into a study. Unlike the others, this room still had furniture: books on bookshelves; an old wooden desk with two lamps on each corner; a large chair in front of it. In the chair sat Leshii. Dasha gasped as a fiery sensation radiated from her chest into her arms and up her throat. The gasp turned into a gurgle as blood shot up her wind pipe, her feet buckled beneath her. With her last strength she grasped weakly for Leshii's ankle as he dashed by into the hallway.The second bullet was delivered between the eyes, this time to Oksana who jumped down from the attic upon hearing the first shot. Two more seconds, two more shots. These ones missed, as Enise and Lily dove behind the nearest posts. Two more seconds. He could hear the other slayers running up the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye Leshii saw Willow materializing. He pulled on a candle holder on the wall and the trap door beneath sent him falling straight to the basement. He landed on his feet and limped as fast as he could to another secret exit there. It only takes two seconds for an experienced witch to cast a teleportation spell. As the door was closing behind him, a powerful force pulverized it, smashing a hurdle of debris into his back. Willow watched Leshii trying to get up from under the pile of bricks and broken wood, her eye sockets filled to the brim with darkness. She moved towards him, but as she stepped through the chasm in the wall she created she felt the ground give slightly under her foot. Four sharp needles went through her sneakers and pierced the skin. Her leg crumbled beneath her as the paralyzing venom shot up her muscles. With a weak yelp Willow collapsed to the ground, more needles piercing every part of her body from her hands to her ankles. Her mind raced trying to stay ahead of the venom rushing towards her heart. Leshii stood up a few meters from her. The poison should be enough, but one can never be too careful with a witch. He lifted his gun and pointed the barrel at the girl's head. The shot missed. The contracting muscles pulled the trigger finger, but the severed hand was pointing elsewhere due to the force of the impact. Stefka followed her axe out of the window, landing far enough off the house walls to avoid the trap that claimed Willow. If Leshii had a backup gun he had no backup hand to retrieve it. Pointing his stump upward to slow the bleeding and his cane at the slayer he backed away steadily in the direction of the thick birch grove. Stefka gripped her remaining axe tighter and quickly closed the distance between them. This will not be a repeat of Buffy's fight. She has a weapon and no promises to keep. It ends now.

With only two meters between them Leshii stopped. Two small metal squares jumped out of his sleeve attached to wires that disappeared somewhere under his clothes. They flew alongside the cane giving off a tiny blue lightening as the clasped to the end of it.

"This won't kill you," he spoke in a calm, almost friendly manner, "You will witness all their deaths and die last"

The black disk of electrified metal pointed at her chest stopped Stefka in her tracks. Better he had a gun. A bullet wound she could take, but now even the slightest touch anywhere on her body and she's out cold. Satisfied he made the proper impression Leshii resumed his retreat. Stefka followed, keeping a respectful distance. There has to be something she could do. Perhaps if she throws her axe just right he'll have to use the cane to block it allowing her to come in close enough to knock the weapon out of his hand. The hand. Leshii was wearing his regular leather glove, not a rubber one. It makes sense. He told Buffy the cane was 'mostly lead' and lead is a poor conductor of electricity. It's also a soft metal making it an impractical walking stick without a more durable material for the knob, like iron. If simply safeguarding the cane from wear and tear was the original purpose of the knob then the electricity doesn't extend beyond the first two or three inches of the staff. All she has to do is grip below it. Stefka tossed aside her axe and closed in. As if reading her thoughts Leshii quickly shortened his grip to the middle of the cane. The slayer attacked. It looked almost like a dance. Each knowing exactly what other was trying to do they were simultaneously reaching and dodging, and ultimately partying without hardly making any contact. Each time their fight broke Leshii kept backing into the forest. They were a dozen meters past the tree line now. Is there something he is running to? Are his minions waiting there, more traps? Doesn't matter. She will follow him as long as it takes. Immune to magic his cane must run on a battery strapped somewhere on his body. However much power he has, it is a finite source; he can stave off the inevitable for only so long. Oh, God! Stefka's head snapped in the direction of the house. Willow was still there, lying in the field full of poison. She turned back to Leshii, but the outcome of her dilemma was obvious even to her enemy.

"Might as well," he spoke lowering his weapon, "If you were truly ready to kill me you would have forgotten all about her"

Stefka sprinted back to the house. She stopped a few meters before Willow's body and grabbed several bricks from the wall the witch has shattered scattered about. Throwing them down in front of herself one by one she made her way through the poison-rigged grass. Taking Willow into her arms Stefka then leaped straight into the house. For a second she considered carrying the witch upstairs, but set her on the floor instead and grabbed the satellite phone from the holster on her belt.

"I already called Dawn," Leaning against the staircase sat Andrew, "They'll be here soon"

"I heard shots. Four, I think. Are there wounded?"

"No, no wounded. Just dead," the young man spoke quietly with a strange detachment, "Is she dead, too?"

"She's cold," Stefka answered, placing her hand at Willow's mouth, "Almost frozen. This is good. It's magic so she must still be alive, right?"

"They'll be here soon," Andrew repeated looking away. Somewhere far off, from the direction of the birch forest, came a faint purring of a helicopter.

1Technically, the events described here take place three years prior to the release of "Manbearpig" episode of "South Park" so Mortimer can't be referring to it, but the Author is. Just a little homage to the genius of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

2Keyhole's Earth Viewer was purchased by Google in 2004 and re-branded Google Earth