Picking Up The Pieces: Part 9 (The Price Of Progress)

Faith opened the door and squinted in the gloom of the bar, taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere of the busiest demon bar in town. Also really the only demon bar.

Willie's had it all. The tasteless crappy decor, the floors that were sticky with various unknown liquids, the run-down furniture and a tinny sound system for the dated music that got piped in from somewhere in the back.

The only good thing going on was air conditioning that kept the various demon odours from overwhelming the musty crypt smell of vampires. Not to mention the more normal tang of sweat, smoke and stale beer.

"You've been in here before?" Xander asked. Faith squashed down the irritation as he hovered too close to her. The guy was too jumpy at being near this place so late at night. He'd been tightly holding on to his axe all the way over here.

Faith hesitated briefly before nodding. "One time last year, back when I worked for Wilkins. I'm sure I made an impression though."

Xander didn't even try to keep the snark out of his reply. "That's... great, really comforting. Just don't any ideas about reverting to form or anything."

Faith rolled her eyes at that. "Wouldn't that be what I'm doing right now, smart guy? Being a slayer and a killer of evil things." Preparing herself she stepped inside out of the fresh night air. It was only then that Willie and a couple of the more monstrous clientele noticed her presence, shuffling uncomfortably and tensing up in recognition. Faith rolled she shoulders at the tension in the air.

Willie gulped from his place behind the bar, before then stammering out a too-loud greeting. "H-hey there Faith, I haven't seen you around lately. Thought you were y'know..."

Faith walked casually over to the bar, smiling widely. "Toes up? Not such luck Willie."

The patrons that filled the bar had gotten a lot quieter, silence broken only a few muttered comments and the scrape of chairs as some left quietly out the back.

Willie smiled as he twitched nervously. "Well hey, my thoughts and prayers worked then, huh? How about some chicken fingers for you and your friend? O-on the house."

Faith wrinkled her nose at the variety of new stinks coming from behind the bar. "Chicken fingers?

Willie gestured over his shoulder and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, demons go crazy for em'. Got a deep-fat fryer and everything."

"So that's why the joint's jumpin', was wondering about that." Faith looked around at the tough crowd of vamps, demons and the odd suspect-looking human, that were either glaring at her or steadfastly avoiding looking in her direction. She noticed that Xander had quickly followed her over and had made sure to position himself between her and the 'bar patrons'.

Willie made an expansive gesture with his hands, indicating something new about the place. "Well, you know, trying to class up the joint a bit. Straighten up my image."

"Yeah, the double-dealing scumbag one." Faith stated, keeping her voice low and dangerous. She leaned in close and kept eye contact but put a hand on the stake in her belt, just in case.

Willie winced and then quickly he changed back to a smiling. "Hey, I mean it. With the Mayor gone this town's gonna change and I need to cash in on the fresh market, see? A new class of customer. It's 'Willie's Place' now," He gestured to the tacky neon sign behind the bar. "Which means I can't go around talkin' behind people's backs no more, you understand."

"Turning over a new leaf? I dig, but the thing is, I don't care. I haven't changed. This town's still got that bad element and I'm here to tear it a new one." Faith tilted her head and smiled sweetly, "And you're gonna help with that. I'm lookin' for a guy-"

Suddenly a hand grabbed her hard by the shoulder and started to pull back. Faith heard a vamp snarl. "Your blood smells sweet slayer!"

'There's always one who wants to try it on. Just 'cause I ain't Buffy.'

Faith quickly twisted her arm back and under the vamps outstretched limb, locked it tight so he let go of her and used the leverage to wrench him forward. Then she kicked his legs out from under him and as he fell forward she used her other hand to grab his hair, she then drove his face so it connected hard with the edge of the bar. His nose smashed against the wood and blood burst down his face.

Faith slammed his face again for good measure, crumpling his nose, before letting go and shoved him sideways. The vamp crashed to the ground and writhed.

She pulled her stake. "How do I smell now?"

The vampire snarled as he pulled himself upright, clutching at his face. "Yaaarrgh!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Faith smirked and beckoned with her fingers for the vamp to come at her.

"Jeez." Murmured Xander and took a step away.

Then the vamp scrambled up fast and went for her. Faith met his charge with a swift right jab directly into his ruined nose, then followed up with a hard left cross that had the guy spinning, reeling away from the bar. Following through from the heavy cross Faith deftly twisted around under an outstretched arm and drove in close to stake his heart.

The vampire managed to drop one hand from his ruined nose and gape down at himself right before disintegrating.

Faith turned away before his ashes hit the floor. Quick and flashy was the way to do it, so the rest would get the message loud and clear. Her stake was toast so she pulled out a large knife from her jacket, to show that she was still armed.

"Ethan Rayne." Faith snapped her fingers of her free hand under Willie's stunned face, "Yo, Willie, unless that creep had a running tab then it's not your problem. I just came here for info."

Willie blinked and glanced around. "Uh, yeah, yeah I gotcha."

"This guy we're lookin' for, he's a magic-type who's made lots of noise in this town before. Big with the chaos."

Xander seemed to have recovered enough to chime in. "He'd be looking to make some more noise or chaos, since he's got himself a power boost recently. Might've ruffled some feathers. Maybe literally."

Willie swallowed as he thought. "I, uh, I think maybe I heard somebody made a quick buck selling some weapons to a wizard. Heavy duty stuff needed in a real big hurry." He held up his hands, "But it ain't got the details, you understand. I might know the guy who does but you're maybe gonna have to, y'know; make it look like you forced me. Like hit-"

Faith threw a quick jab into his face. Willie staggered backwards and his hands flew to his face. "Oww! Ooogghh. What the hell!"

Faith shrugged. "You said hit you."

Willie shook his head and said through a muffling hand. "Like a simple love-tap or... just. Ya coulda given me some warning."Willie pulled his fingers away from his mouth, "Am I bleeding?"

Xander made a show of peering sympathetically. "Eh, nothing. You'll be fine."

Willie tongued the inside of his cheek as he sniffed experimentally. "Jeez lady, you've got some kinda touch. Anyways, there's a biker-guy playing hold 'em in the back. He's your man." He nodded his head towards a door down the bar on the far left.

"Smart play, Willie." With a nod Faith turned and headed towards the indicated door at the back, running her fingers along the bar and making sure the rest of the regulars got a look at her blade as she tucked it back in the sheath.

Xander followed after her as he hissed. "You know, you might want to try a softer, less slaughter-y approach."

"B's got her rep, and I got mine. That's my edge right now."She went on through the door and into a smaller, drabber, even stinkier room filled with five guys surrounding a round poker table and surrounded by a haze of cigar smoke. Three demons and two humans by the look of it.

Faith figured the human sitting furthest away was her guy. The guy with the heavy leather jacket, head bandanna and the neck ink. The two figures with their backs to her looked over their shoulders as she sauntered on over, the biker was leaning towards the player next to him, some small scabby green demon with frills and scales, but looked up as she rounded the table towards him.

He grinned up at her, showing a couple of gold teeth. "Hey now, what's this? Willie upgrading his hostess service on us?"

Faith casually cupped her fist in her palm as she looked around all the players, none of the demons were big leagues. She had this. "Figure maybe I'd join the game."

"Sorry sweet stuff, we're all full up." He made a show of looking her over, "You wanna sit on my lap some, give me a bit o' luck, then I wouldn't say no."

Faith shook her head. "That's a shame; have to cut to the chase instead of making nice." She kept her eyes fixed on him "Anyone here had dealings with some plumy English guy by the name of Rayne? Dude's got his hands on some weapons and I'm itchin' to get a meet with him."

The biker's eyes flicked away dismissively. "No. Can't help you."

Faith turned her hands up made a disappointed face. "But I thought you weren't gonna say no to me?"

Getting impatient the lizard demon leaned forward to look past the biker and sneered. "Get bent bitch, Deek an' me are tryna enjoy a game here."

Faith's smile faded as she quickly slid behind her mark- Deek- to get nearer the demon, making a show of looking at his cards and smirking. "Must be pretty hard to enjoy it with the bad hand you got there."

The demon glanced back and down at his cards puzzled. "What're you talkin'-"

Even as he did so Faith whipped out the blade from her belt, lurched past him and stabbed the steel down on the demon's claw, the sharp metal slicing clean through to pin it to the table.

"Siiss-rghh!" The lizard-thing half cried- half hissed in agony before Faith viciously back-handed him in the face; he fell off the chair and thumped to his knees whilst his hand stayed impaled to the table. Faith then slammed a knee into his face as he scrambled to free himself, knocking him out.

All the other players immediately scooted backwards away from the table in alarm. Faith quickly grabbed the biker by the neck and casually hauled him up and crashed him against the wall. She stepped in front of him, confident that nobody else would interfere. She felt the old swell of pride at the fear she caused, the satisfying crunch of using her power so freely, those elated feelings returning and rising in her so intensely that she almost shivered. It felt good to be back.

Deek's groan of pain choked off as Faith snapped out of her introspection and pushed her strong fingers firmly against this throat.

"Would ya' look at that? He folded like a chump." Faith smirked as she glanced looked over her shoulder and saw the remaining three figures quickly scatter and vacate the room, even shying away from Xander's form in the doorway as they did so.

Faith turned her attention back to Deek, who was looking pale-faced and uncomfortable. "Tell you want Deek, I am gonna bring you some luck tonight. You tell me what I want to know and, lucky for you, I won't be tempted to start pulling your fingers off and feeding them to you."She taunted him with a smile.

The big man's eyes bugged in fear and he made a show of wanting to talk, so Faith eased off her grip so he sagged forward slightly and gasped out, "The guy... Rayne, he was... after some serious... heavy metal. Couple of big axes, swords, some Molotov's."

"Molotov's? I didn't think you could get cocktails at a bar like this." Xander spoke up from the doorway.

Deek made a show of shrugging and slurred his words as he cleared his throat. "Guy wanted a-a flamethrower. But I couldn't get one on short, so he settled for some home made stuff. He wanted... something that would burn."

Faith looked between the biker and a bemused Xander. "Why was he going all hardcore?"

Xander nodded in thought. "Yeah, I thought Ethan was Mr. Black Arts. Why would he need the extra?"

Deek coughed again and shook his head. "He said he wanted fire for a Mavlak. Those things'll eat anything magic, gobble it up and keep on coming. Love the stuff. So this Limey said he needed to do legit damage, up close and personal."

"Maybe that's why he wanted all of Buffy's kickass-ification. For this one-on-one death match thing." Xander sounded like he was thinking out loud.

Faith shook her head because the whole thing sounded fairly small-fry for all the hoop-jumping Rayne had to do. "Maybe."

She turned back to Deek and made a show of slowly flexing her fingers before laying a hand back against his chest, "So, where's this thing holed up at, Deek? How lucky are you feelin' tonight?"

Deek's body seemed to spasm uncontrollably in fear under her touch. The feeling again made Faith aware of the sensation within her. A blossoming inside so powerful and intense that it was now beginning to make her sick to enjoy the feel of it, a rising sensation of intense nausea rose up along side the awareness of her own dark urges, pushing against all of her skin from the inside and whispering alongside her nerves.

All the same feelings as before. The power to make him die, the knowledge that he deserved to die and the strong pulsing urge to scrub this scum and make the world a better place in an instant. In an instant the righteous pull of power seemed to twist into a need to dole out some pain. Faith felt that pull within her, she could really do it and nobody could stop her, now not even Buffy...

She pulled her hands away quickly and too a step back, took a deep breath to try and centre herself.

The biker didn't seem aware of her withdrawing. "There's a cave near the beach, half a mile north from Kingman's Bluff I think. You don't go near if you're smart."

With a dismissive shove Faith backed away from his quaking form. "Hope I don't have a reason to come back."

The guy nodded. "I'm there already."

Faith quickly turned and left. The air in the bar was starting to make her nauseous.

Xander followed Faith as she abruptly slammed out the back door and into the alley. He was careful to keep his distance. Things had gotten intense for everyone in there, not to mention incredibly painful for some, and he could see that it had affected her. She seemed tense, jumpy and ready for more. And he didn't want to draw any attention his way.

The truth was, Faith was dangerous and powerful in a way he wasn't really used to. Buffy was always so controlled, so light and compassionate when it counted, that he often forgot that she was easily capable of snapping him in two. Yeah she could be fierce and dangerous when needed. But it was always targeted, and targeted right.

And Angel… well, Angel was quiet and collected and kinda stiff… for a jerk. Whereas Angelus was more talkative, like a talkative evil creepy… jerk. In his heart Xander understood the difference between jerk one and jerk two what and he could expect accordingly.

But Faith? Back there it was all he could do to keep far enough away for comfort but not too near any of the lovely monster-y bar patrons. It was like he was afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, or maybe with a ricochet, or involved in some more apt military metaphor. Like a coup? Caught up in a violent bar coup? Did that work?

Or maybe an uprising? Actually big nope, best not to think about Faith and things rising up...

Meanwhile Faith was pacing towards the mouth of the alley and then back again, turning slightly this way and that like she was cornered and really tense, but also like she didn't realise he was there. She was oblivious to anything except whatever thoughts were zinging around inside her head.

Suddenly she bolted quickly for the far wall. Xander flinched as she slapped a hand against the brick, leant over and vomited noisily. He saw her shudder for a moment or two as she... spasmed and combed her hair out of her face as she made various rhythmic retching noises for half a minute or so.

Xander winced, feeling both a sudden awkwardness that anyone would get when seeing this kind of thing and also... sympathy? Maybe sympathy.

He guessed that Faith must've maybe not liked doing that, even though she looked like she was enjoying it a hell of a lot of the cool badass action stuff, what with the stabbing.

He watched warily as she settled after a minute, hand against the wall as she steadied herself and used the other arm to wipe her mouth. She was still bent over and Xander found his eyes drawn downwards to where her jacket and shirt had ridden up, showing the skin of her lower back and where the leather pants clung low to her hips and... well, even heaving her guts out she looked really hot.

'Man, she's throwing up from trauma and you're busy checking her out? Don't be a creep.'

So he cleared his throat, averted his eyes and stepped forward. "Hey, uh, you okay? Was that your delayed reaction to the thought of eating Willie's chicken-fingers? 'Cause, I'm right there with you. Yak alert."

Faith was still turned away like she was trying to compose herself, hands going to her face like she was wiping away mucus. Or tears. Tears were less gross.

Tentatively he reached out and gently patted her shoulder. "Hey, you did good alright? We got some useful-"

"Get your hand offa me." Faith growled.

Her whole body had tensed up again and had turned his way slightly.

Xander jerked back his hand like he'd scalded himself. 'Dammit.'

Xander threw up his hands. "Yeah right, what was I thinking? It's just you had a little schmutz on your jacket there, not like I was treating you like a person. My huge mistake."

She just shook her head. "Just keep you hands to yourself, I'm good." She sounded more weary than pissed.

"Right, but for how long." Xander muttered almost automatically and then wished he hadn't. Don't annoy the easily angered unstable super-chick.

But Faith acted like she hadn't heard, she was still mostly turned away from him and seemed to be ignoring him again, which was a relief. Then she spoke up. "You still got your car?"

Xander blinked at the question. "Uh, what?"

She turned her head, her eyes were impatient. "So we can get to the beach quickly, dumbass. You had a car last year."

Xander remembered, vividly actually, the night of apocalypse demons and zombie meatheads. "Right, I helped you out and gave you a ride and, um"- he stopped himself.

"Then I gave you a ride." She drawled huskily and then chuckled. Xander felt his face flush and was glad the alley was so dark. The whole experience must've been a big bag of yucks for her.

Xander let irritation creep into his voice. "Well that's a no, I don't have the car. It wasn't really mine anyway. I did have a scooter until recently, but that was for my job so..." He trailed off awkwardly as she turned back to the wall again. In defiance he stared at her tight leather-clad butt, reasoning that if she could laugh it up at his expense then he could ogle her cute butt.

An image of Anya appeared in his mind and Xander looked away guiltily, mentally cursing himself. His eyes absently scanned the back of the alley as he thought about how the ex-demon had slapped his arm. Well, maybe he'd had that coming after all.

He cleared his throat again. "I do know where Kingman's Bluff is, should make it easier to find a cave on the beach. At night. Yeah, that should be fun."

Then was when he noticed something moving about in the shadows further down and he tensed up. A figure emerged from the shadows and walked towards the door to Willie's, stopping to flare up a light in the dark, the flame illuminating a pallid, familiar face holding a cigarette in his mouth.

'Just great.' "Spike." Xander adjusted his stance and tightened the grip on his axe, the mood he was in he's not sure he wanted to bother with Spike whilst riding herd on a rogue slayer. He made a dismissive gesture towards the vampire. "What are you doing here?"

When Spike replied he sounded amused. "Me? Hey, I'm not the one out of place here. You get lost when your Buffy let you off the leash?"

Xander bristled at the dismissive tone. "For your information pal, I'm exactly where I need to be, beating the streets looking for an evil sorcerer type."

"Is this the one I tangled with or is some other bint?" Spike sounded amused.

"Of the male and English variety this time. Like you except, I dunno, more camp maybe?"

"Cheers for that," Spike remarked dryly, "So you're out and about all by your lonesome..." Spike trailed off as he noticed Faith, right about the same time she turned and noticed him. He blew and plume of smoke as he gave her speculative look. Yep, definite evil ogling going on.

Xander cleared his throat. "Spike, this is Faith, the uh-"

"'Man-hungry skank' wasn't it, Harris?" Spikes grinned at his discomfort, "What with you panicking and thinking she'd hunt you down to finish the job. Weren't you gonna sic the army blokes on her?" His tone was jeering now.

That was when Faith spoke up. "Sure did, tried their best but I escaped."

Spike nodded in sympathy. "I've been there, luv." He took a step towards her and jerked his head in Xander's direction. "Listen, if you are gonna do any of these wankers in, then could you do somethin' drawn out, imaginative and really painful? And maybe film it?"

Faith gave Xander a sly side-on look and he felt a chill go down his spine that settled in his stomach. Turning back to Spike she smiled. "Watcha doin' around here?"

The vampire shrugged. "Game night. Thought I'd have a quart of O-neg and make some cash."

Faith shook her head seemingly in sympathy. "'Fraid the game got crashed. Over now."

"Sod it then, looks like I'm on the look-out for some sort of entertainment. So, you gonna oblige?" He tilted his head in Xander's direction again and widened his smiled. Oh hell, he did not need this. Evil flirting, over violent evil pastimes...

Faith turned to Xander and instinctively he took a step back, almost fumbling his axe as he brought it about. "Okay, a big no to being the entertainment. It was bad enough just seeing you stab-happy in there-"

Suddenly Faith wasn't there anymore and had slammed Spike hard up against the wall, hands tightly gripping his coat and pulling his face close.

"Oi, what the bloody hell!" The vampire cried.

Faith's voice was chilling. "Listen dead-boy, you might be able to duck under the radar when Buffy's around, but if you ever, ever, threaten one of her friends or even think about getting someone to do what you didn't have the know-how to do, then that chip isn't going to be the only thing causing you pain. I'll stake your ass. And then I'll stake your heart. Eventually."

With that she hauled him around and tossed him down the alley, sending Spike crashing into a collection of trash bags and empty beer crates.

"But right now I got better things to do. Have a nice night." She mocked and then turned and walked away towards the street.

Xander grinned as he watched Spike haul himself out of the piles of rubbish. "Now that's entertainment."

He hurried after Faith.

Giles grimaced as he smashed the mummy round the face for a second time, sending the fetid walking corpse staggering backwards in a plume of tomb dust. "There are more of them!" He cried.

Angel glanced over his shoulder as he struck the vault guardian with his boot and then pivoted, smashing another one back against a display case with a powerful roundhouse. "Dammit!" He grabbed it and wrestled it to the ground. He looked towards the far end of the room.

"Wes, tell me we're almost in."

"Uh, yes, just finalising the incantation." He called in a confident voice.

"Bloody mystic runic lock-mechanisms," he muttered under his breath.

Giles peered around the antiquities room. Sacred objects, weapons and magical texts were given pride of place in one massive wing of Greeley's estate. The house itself was isolated, nestled deep within the Hollywood hills outside the city. The quiet and secluded nature of the place had made it easier for them to get closer undetected. The outside security had been tight but not impossible, the guards had been well-trained but few in number, not enough to cover the whole grounds, and the inside had been quiet but not suspiciously so.

That had changed. Their presence inside this place had triggered some sort of mystical defence- something invisible to Giles' simple detection spell- and now near-invulnerable tomb guardians were springing up out of thin air.

With a grunt Angel twisted the head off the arcane cadaver and threw it between two statues of Babylonian gods. "Any ideas?"

Giles saw movement in the shadows but nothing distinct. "How many would you say?"

Angel scanned the darkness. "Three more. No, make that four. Coming at us like the air's a curtain to be pulled back. Dimensional distortion?"

Giles shook his head. "A continuous summoning is more likely. Not a spell but an object. One that can be activated or reversed by..." He thought and looked around.

"By what?" Angel stood up and punched one of the wrapping swathed bodies hard enough to knock it to one knee. Giles saw another staggering monstrosity on the vampire's flank and- swinging his mace like a cricket bat- smashed the creature around one hundred and eighty degrees so it toppled over an Etruscan dais used for ritual animal sacrifice. 'A fine example of the period.'

Giles scanned the room for a likely culprit; tomb guardians were most commonly found in North African, Arabic, or South American occult lore so he should consider something fitting those designs.

"Giles? By what?" Angel sounded a tad peevish as he punched something.

"...Something relatively simple."He spotted something else; a gossamer thin thread that had been strung across the room from one interior pillar to the base of a small stone urn. He quickly hurried over as Angel smashed two dried and desiccated skulls together.

He saw it then; a lever originating from the base that was designed to push up and slide the urn's lid to one side if triggered. Inside he spotted a small mound of earth at the bottom, which must be 'The Dust of Anput' mixed with twice-blessed Rub' Al Khali sand. Ingenious really.

"Any time now!" Angel knocked another mummy away even as two of them seized his arms and struggled with him. They were slow but immensely strong.

Giles pushed the lever that closed the lid down fully. A hiss filled the air and in a hazy swirl the shadows in the room seemed to shrink. Giles turned to see the last of the guardians dissolve in midair. Angel's powerful struggling almost saw him fall over as the resistance ceased almost immediately.

"There. As I said, simple. That's why it tripped us up, no-one expects low-tech these days."

Angel rubbed his neck as he regained his balance. "I think that we should get what we came for instead of congratulating the guy we're about to burgle."

Giles adjusted his glasses. "Indeed. Wesley?"

Wesley's hand was holding steady mere inches from the stone-carved mosaic in the wall, he gestures turning the runic tiles this way and that until finally they stopped. There followed a series of clicks like pebbles falling followed by grinding noises.

Wesley took a step back. "Well, I think this means that we're in. Either that or I've activated a death geas that will kill us all." Wesley gave a slightly uneasy chuckle.

Angel turned to Giles. "You didn't have to come you know."

"And as I said before, only I know what specifics to look for once we get inside."

The vampire glanced over his shoulder. "We've probably alerted somebody by now."

"Then we must make haste."

The stone-like rumbles and rhythmic grinding stopped and then the mosaic- beautifully inscribed- seemed to simultaneously fold in on itself and expand, creating a large shimmering doorway where there was once a circular stone disk.

Wesley gaped. "Remarkable. It's a-"

"Pocket dimension." Giles finished, "No mere vault would do for an antiquarian of Greeley's scope of interest.

He went to enter first but Angel put a hand on his arm. "Let me take point. Wes, wait here and keep an eye out. Make some noise if there's any trouble."

With that he entered the iridescent portal and Giles followed.

Beyond was... well, a bit anti-climactic. The place looked like an old-fashioned Turkish hookoh bar, complete with heavily perfumed air, picturesque tapestries, hanging curtains and colourful cushions littering a floor covered with thick Persian rugs.

"Kind of overly exotic for a treasure vault." Angel commented as he frowned at the surroundings. Giles imagined that the vampire might've seen the real thing once upon a time rather than all this affectation. Still, this was a worrying sign.

"It's also worrisome, given what we're here to acquire. Let's get started."

And within the first fifteen minutes Giles had come across what he sought. On a wide circular desk behind layers of bothersome diaphanous veils sat a set of scrolls surrounded by pages and pages of hand written notes. The pages indicated many long hours of research, interpretation and translation on Greeley's part.

With no small sense of satisfaction Giles scooped up the scrolls and all the accompanying notes. They would hopefully prove invaluable in cutting down any time needed to research the djinn, its history and its powers. Any help there would be a blessing, for Buffy's sake.

Batting aside the curtains with his elbow Giles saw Angel intently examining one of the tapestries hung on the wall; his usually intense expression now seeming even more troubled. "Angel, I have what we came for. We should leave."

Angel turned and scanned around the room slowly before meeting Giles' eyes. "Agreed."

They left; Giles sense of triumph now tinged with an edge of foreboding.

Buffy jerked her head up as the back of the van creaked open; she quickly shifted herself around until the broken weapon was secreted against the small of her back.

"Getting comfortable my sweet?"

Buffy shuddered at Ethan's mocking tone and term of endearment as she sat upright again, shoulders against the inside of the van; she glared at his triumphant, smiling face even as she tucked her bound wrists between her thighs.

She could see a new sheen of sweat on his forehead and a tense strain in his neck but his overall mood was the same as it was on the drive back to Sunnydale. She'd watched him closely as he'd driven leisurely back through town, glared as he stopping by a Happy-Burger drive-through and then cringed as he devoured four burger and fries like he wanted to inhale them.

Buffy hoped that she didn't look like such a pig after a big slay. The sight had pretty much killed any appetite she had.

He had stopped the van a while ago and, after wiping most of the demon gunk off himself with some napkins, had actually taken a nap right there in the front seat. He hadn't stopped any place to wash up- so he now reeked of demon guts or whatever- or even looked in Buffy's direction to acknowledge she was there still tied up in the back.

So evil, gross, stupid and arrogant, that was like the evil-doers trifecta right there...or more than a trifecta actually, a four-something. Like four cherries on a slot machine; an evil slot machine.

But Buffy had taken advantage and had busily continued sawing her way to freedom; the broken metal axe was still sharp enough, but was also covered in slimy residue that quickly covered Buffy's wrists and the rope that bound them. It was so frustrating, and also beyond foul. But at least now the two-inch thick ropes had been whittled down to almost a centimetre.

Still, she had seriously considered making a run for it while Rayne was napping, but the back doors were securely locked which meant sneaking into the front partition and out the passenger door, all whilst tightly bound and without waking a guy who now had slayer-sense. 'Not happening.'

So Buffy had dismissed it, reasoning that she only had one shot at trying to escape and she had to pick her moment carefully; when she had her hands free and was closer to any safe place in town.

However now she wondered if she'd lost her shot. Rayne was awake now and he seemed more wired and confident than ever, peppy even.

Buffy peered over his shoulder. "Where are we?" She made her voice sound subdued and tired; resigned to her fate.

Rayne glanced at his watch and then looked around at the night outside. "The where isn't important, but the when..." He sighed in mild irritation, "That watcher should be here by now."

Buffy blinked. "Watcher? Then...you know who she is?"

Rayne's eyes snapped towards her. "She? Well now, that is interesting. But I've talked with enough Watchers – former and otherwise- to know how they talk and think. I wonder why she would go to such lengths to hide her identity."

Buffy kept her tone light. "You should just go ahead and ask her. Better do it nicely though, bad idea to tick off the boss."

Ethan chuckled softly in response before suddenly reaching over and pushing a hand against Buffy's throat; he tightened and forced her head back hard against the metal wall behind. "Careful my dear, you misunderstand the nature of our relationship and should be wary when voicing your idiocy."

Buffy tried to struggle and twist in his grasp before he abruptly took his hand away leaving her coughing at the red rawness coming from her throat. She blinked tears from her eyes and turned her head away so he wouldn't see.

Ethan looked at his hand and smiled. "I don't know how you do it you know, deal with all the...temptation. The sheer immediacy of the power right at your finger tips."

Buffy cleared her throat and kept her voice cold. "Easy. I just start with 'don't be a massive jerk' as my base and the rest comes naturally."

Rayne caught her eye and sneered. "Restraint. I'm not sure that particular notion's done you any favours my dear, considering your current circumstances."

Suddenly there was a stirring in the breeze and a prickling in the air and Rayne turned away. Buffy saw the cloaked figure of Morley standing on the in the middle of an alley they were parked in.

After a moment she spoke. "Buffy." Buffy gave her a little wave just to be whimsical.

Then Morley inclined her head. "Ethan, do you have what I asked for?"

Rayne nodded, a mixture of smugness and eagerness, and opened the other door, exposing the back of the van more fully.

"That Mavlak was difficult, exceedingly so. I understand now why you would have need of a slayer at full strength. The thing's lair was the proverbial treasure trove, but here is what you wanted,"

He reached in and grabbed the bronze shield that had been making Buffy queasy whenever she'd tried to look too directly at it. Rayne's fingers clamped down hard on the metallic surface and he pulled it out.

"Careful!" Morley sounded alarmed as she gestured to Rayne, "Careful with how you hold it. Its power is... responsive to contact. It would be best not to attract too much attention."

Rayne looked about the deserted alley as he carefully placed the artefact on the ground. "Attention of whom?"

"Not of whom, but of what." Morley stated quietly. Then she gestured at the van, "Let us have some privacy Ethan, so that I might explain its purpose."

Rayne turned and regarded Buffy balefully. "Our time is almost up slayer." He grinned at her as he slammed the back doors closed with a violent clash.

For a moment Buffy fought the urge to slide closer to the door and get a load of whatever evil scheme they were dreaming up but she stopped herself. Rayne's last look at her, all his behaviour, was getting way unstable. Getting minimum safe distance was the only priority right now. She had alone time, a weapon, and an empty vehicle.

Buffy swung her legs up and around, twisted so the axe near her hip, and then tucked the remains of her ropes underneath the jagged edge to start cutting.

Almost there.

"Ugh, this is so frustrating!" Willow tossed another book down on the floor and scowled at it, and then at the three empty coffee cups stacked on her bedside table. Her caffeine buzz was wearing off and she was getting nowhere.

Running her hands over her face she slumped forward; elbows on crossed knees, wondering how to get her brain to work better.

'Witness my impression of the frustrated and jittery college version of 'The Thinker'.'

Tara looked up from her place on the floor where she was busily searching through her collection of various crystals, rune stones and talismans looking for anything that would help. "Maybe you should take a break."

Willow raised her head. "And what, go and get more coffee? The mocha magic isn't working on my mojo. I'm tapped." Willow pouted and then met Tara's eyes, "It's just... we really don't know what we're dealing with. 'Slayer essence'? Is that something pure magic-like or elemental force, spiritual or maybe demon-y? We're fumbling in the dark here."

Not for the first time she glanced over at the phone and wished that Xander would call in for an update. That was her reasoning for bringing all of Tara's materials over to her place, so that Xander could contact her in an emergency or if anything happened before dawn; if Faith ran off or was somehow reckless.

Or, on the bright side of things, if they both actually managed to find and rescued Buffy. It had been hours and nothing.

But the main reason for being here was that it made Buffy seemed closer to her and somehow more tangible. Less lost and alone.

Tara placed a large piece of spirit quartz down next to an illustrated version of itself. "It's basically energy, right? The s-slayer power? And- and it's linked to the person's life force in some way." Tara seemed to hesitate as she pushed some hair behind her ear, "When I saw Faith she had... this aura around her, really intense and fascinating, different from any-" she stopped and nibbled her lip, "Maybe Buffy has it too but it, I think it could be an indicator. But I'm not sure of what."

Willow frowned, not exactly liking the idea of Tara finding anything about Faith fascinating. "What kind of aura? I mean is it like a colour?"

"Partly. Like a shimmer of different things. Colours and shapes, fluid or jagged lines, emotional expressions that can flow and change depending on mood and behaviour. Sometimes it's not even really visible unless you really look, but with strong emotions it's...more prominent. And also with slayers and powerful wiccas..." She shrugged and glanced at Willow shyly, "Like you."

Despite her tiredness Willow swelling a little with pride. She smiled. "Little me? Oh, that's really kinda neat." Then as her thoughts took hold her smile faded and she shook her head, "Not sure I want to know what it looks like now though."

Tara looked sympathetic. "Acting out of fear is never good. B-but you were looking out for your friend And-"

"Yeah and doing what I knew was wrong, justifying myself and lying to Buffy at the same time..." She trailed off, "I was more afraid of us drifting apart even further. Seeing how she was so invested in Faith and putting her first." Willow shook her head, "It was never really about Buffy being in danger. It was more about the two of them always having this really intense... like a close connection that kinda made me a little jealous."

She looked up at Tara to see that the blonde girl was frowning in thought. "What...What is it?"

Tara seemed to be considering something. "How come there are two slayers? Didn't you say that Buffy was some sort of special chosen? As in singular?"

"Uh, yeah. Usually. But what happened, see Buffy kinda, well, she drowned whilst fighting an uber-baddie and died for a little while. But Xander brought her back- obviously- and that was that."

"Faith showed up later?"

"No, there was another slayer first, Kendra, who arrived in town and later died fighting a vampire at the school and," Willow shrugged "The year after that, Faith just showed up."

Tara seemed to be working something out. "So... that means that they don't share the same power, the power comes from the same source but... is in them all along like, a part of them. A part that awakens when the next in line..." She trailed off.

"Kicks the bucket? I guess." Willow shook her head, "But I don't see what you're getting at."

Tara took a shaky breath. "I-I think I know how we can get Buffy's power back. At least part of a way, but it might be dangerous."

Willow scooted to the edge of the bed in excitement. "What do you-"

She was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Automatically she tensed up, sitting and staring at the doorway for seconds that seemed to stretch out indefinitely. She exchanged a wide-eyed look with Tara. The knocking, although gentle, seemed louder at this time of night. It was so incongruous.

"Who?" Tara mouthed quietly.

Willow shrugged. It was late. In fact it was getting really, really late, too late for anything likely to be friendly. Except that bad guys rarely knock. Although there was that one time with Spike. And also more recently Rayne...

The knocking was continuing, quiet but persistent, maybe a bit desperate. Willow let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding until that moment.

Well, Willow wasn't going to make the mistake again. She called out. "Who is it?"

There was a pause then softly. "It's Riley Finn."

Willow looked at Tara again before quickly making her way to the door and opening it. "Riley, hey."

She looked at him before belatedly thinking to ask, "Uh, are you alone or with any, y'know, squads of soldiers?" Her eyes darted to the corridor either side of him.

He smiled easily. "Just me." He took a quick look over her head and must've seen Tara. "Is Buffy here? I, well I came to see how she is, then maybe apologise, and there would also be definite grovelling."

"Um, you better come in." She flapped her hand and indicated him to get in out of the hall. So he moved through and stopped in the middle of the room, looking as awkward as Willow felt.

"Hi." He nodded pleasantly at Tara.

"Um, hello." Tara nodded as her hands nervously fidgeted on her lap.

This was the second time Riley had seen her and Tara together so Willow hurried into an explanation. "Tara is here helping me with a-a situation. A Buffy-situation, sort of mystic-y."

Riley turned to her, frowning in concern. "Is Buffy in trouble? Is it..." He hesitated and lowered his voice, "Is it Adam?"

Aware of her previous not-so-stellar efforts to get Riley involved with Scoobie business Willow chose her words carefully. "No, not Adam. It's a more complicated something else of bad. You remember Ethan Rayne?"

"I sure do. The Initiative took him into custody after that whole thing with Buffy's uh, friend. Mr. Giles, right?"

Willow inwardly smiled at Giles being called Mr. Giles, like a proper grown-up. "Exactly, but he escaped- not sure how exactly- and he came back to revenge himself on Buffy. He took her."

Riley's tone was incredulous. "Took Buffy? How the-"

"With magic, basically. And Tara and I are finding out a way to reverse the spell." Willow paused to steady her nerve, "...And Xander and Faith are out tracking down Buffy right now."

The incredulous tone continued, only slightly softer. "Faith is... You're working with that-"

"No. She's helping us." Willow stated firmly, before struggling to explain the whole mess to Riley in simple terms, "Just think of it as Faith believing that the only person who gets to hurt Buffy is her, okay? She's on our side, for now."

Riley shook his head. "I've gotta say that doesn't sound like a solid plan to me."

"It isn't. But it's all we have. Giles is away and...I don't really think calling up your squad buddies would be very helpful."

Reluctantly Riley nodded. "I suppose we're really not in the best shape to take any offensive action right now."

Willow gave him a sympathetic look. "'We', or you? Buffy said you were badly hurt fighting Adam."

Riley pressed a hand to his side. "I'm walking it off. Also I'm able enough to lend a hand when it's needed."

Willow accepted that. "Well, we're going to be meeting with the others back at Giles' in a few hours to go over stuff."

Tara stood up holding a crystal in her hand. "Willow? W-we have to go there now. There are a couple of things that I need from my place but then we can do the casting when we get there. It'd be easier if we're all together." She nodded at Willow and then gestured to a couple of books.

Willow eagerly picked them up, feeling a small glimmer of hope for the first time that night. "Okay then, so we're going..."

Riley moved over and opened the door for them. "Lead the way ladies."

Morley was usually very cautious about staying on the physical plane for any longer than necessary. But here and now, to be in the presence of something that made her goal tangible after so many years, she needed this tactile assurance. She needed to know that she was on the right path, for her Master's sake.

So she crouched down to examine the mirror, holding it upright and at an angle so that the quickly waning moonlight would catch the surface just so.

"What does it do?" Asked Ethan jovially, to Morley his tone seemed insincere. He was on edge and seemed to vibrate with unspent aggression.

"This, if it is the Eibon Mirror, is a powerful scrying device. With it, one is able to view and communicate with others in this or any dimension, no matter what boundaries or wards may be in place to prevent it. No dark world, not even Quor-toth, is beyond its gaze."

Of course depending on the powers of the two doing the communicating, it could do far more. But Rayne didn't need to know that.

"I assure you this was in prize of place where I found it. It's the only thing that remotely resembled what you described. It is what you wanted?"

As Morley's eyes trailed across the surface of the mirror, she could see from the corner of her eye that Rayne's leg was jittering intently even as he stood there.

In truth Morley hadn't been entirely wrong when she'd said that Rayne was in danger, but not physically. He would in time get more aggressive and eager to commit violence, his temper would shorten, and he would rage and inflict pain for the sheer pleasure of it. Without any strong moral governance, and Morley knew he lacked that entirely, he would be under the thrall of his newfound power sooner rather than later.

To take any demonic power into you, especially power that was so potent, was a risk to sanity much more than health. Rayne would last a day, perhaps two, before he would loose himself to oblivion.

Without another thought Morley turned her attention back to her prize.

At first examination the metal was bronze with a filigreed edge with intricate patterning and symbols that curved and melted into each other and crossed behind the back of the mirror to form an arcane lattice.

But the metal was not bronze. It was no metal that could be found in this dimension. Not anymore. It was slick, almost greasy to the touch, and what its surface reflected did not wholly depict what was real and tangible.

It was a relic, a tool of the Old Ones, forged by their magic long ago. It was a mere trinket to them but a treasure to her. She almost shivered with delight at the realization, knowing that the time was almost here. All there was now was for the two slayers to play their roles to perfection.

"Is it what you wanted?" Rayne asked for the second time. His patience, not strong to begin with, was weakening.

"One moment Ethan, these things can't be rushed. I need to be sure." Slowly she reached out her senses, a simple spell of clairsentience, to move her perceptions past herself and Rayne, out of the alleyway and into the van. There she saw Buffy, free of her bonds, climbing into the front seat and glancing over her shoulder as she reached down for the keys in the ignition.

'Oh Buffy, you continue to impress. Even without your power you are still a slayer.'

Morley heard Buffy muttering to herself "I can do this. I'm good at this. Drive."

Simultaneously she also heard Rayne's aggravating voice. "We had a deal, I have done my part, and admirably I have to say. Now, the sacrament of potency, you promised me-"

With a roar the van sprung to life; coughing and spluttering exhaust towards the two of them.

Morley quickly let her full consciousness come back to herself and she stood up. "What is the meaning of this?"

The van screeched and then lurched forward, roaring down the alley at a far-too fast accelerated pace, swiping the side of the alley at one instance and half-colliding with a dumpster a few seconds later. Then the vehicle jumped out of the mouth of the alley. It bounced haphazardly across the road, turning sharply to the right and barely managing to avoid a telephone pole before disappearing from sight.

Rayne gaped after the van for a moment, before turning back to Morley. "How did she-? "

"Idiot!" She sneered, for once actually enjoying the role she was now playing, the one of thwarted villain.

Rayne looked impatient and waved behind him. "No matter, without her power she's no threat. The sacrament-"

"I told you that you needed the slayer, unharmed and intact, for any such casting to be successful. Dolt." She muttered. She pretended to think about it, "You need to follow her, track her down and bring her to me, we've wasted enough time."

"How am I supposed to do that, she's moving quite a bit faster in case you haven't noticed."

"You are still connected to her, by the power you stole if nothing else. As long as she lives you'll be able to feel where she is, no matter where she goes or tries to hide. After all, who can stop you?"

Rayne's hands tightened into fists. "Who indeed. But still-"

"I will do my best to slow her attempted escape but I am still weak." She made her form shimmer and almost fade from view, but she took care to keep the mirror close in her grip. "Hurry Ethan, it's almost daybreak. When you find her, I will find you. Until then..." She blinked out of sight and watched Rayne hurriedly turn and walk out of the alley.

'YES! Escape success! With driviness! Look at me, all driving and not crashing! Driving, Buffy's driving a van and oop, watch out for the inanimate object that somehow moved in front of me. But still this is a solid performance. Who cares about moving in between all those little cones anyway? I'm a driving master. Or mistress actually.'

But despite the adrenaline high of a masterful… mistressful? getaway there were also down sides, Buffy's legs were still numb and cramping a bit, which meant that putting the pedal to the metal was very much easier said than done. Her calf muscles were total jelly. The bad kind. And she had pins and needles covering her legs and butt.

Not to mention her fingers felt tired and raw from all the sawing, her wrists were in red agony and there as a relentless pounding behind her eyes. Being a hostage was a lot of sitting around and doing nothing that was really, really tiring. She'd never take for granted being action-girl ever again.

Buffy swerved around a corner, turning left past a chain-link fenced warehouse to get as much distance between madman's alley and her sweet Buffy-mobile as possible. She risked pushing the van into a higher gear and scanned the neighbourhood frantically, figuring that she'd recognize a landmark or something soon enough. A cemetery, one lovely tomb-filled cemetery and then she'd be able to tell her exact darn locale in relation to Giles'. After that? Get to Faith. Hug Faith. Point Faith at Rayne. Victory dance.

Amid her hazy, hopeful scenario and focusing on not-crashing Buffy thought back to the alley and what she'd witnessed. That was some serious quid-pro-quo going on. The fact being that Ethan Rayne had been in the process of giving Morley some kind of creepy, evil shield? Or possibly a platter. Like for an evil tea set or something.

Still, it was important and a major clue to Morley's endgame with Faith. Buffy tried to commit what she could remember to memory for later and talk with Giles and-

'Bingo. Cemetery!'

Buffy saw a sweep of green on her left, glinting with dew in the early dawn light. Then she saw trees, rows of dull grey markers and a white building- a church- in the distance. A cemetery with zero mausoleums, next to a north-south road with a mid-size church would make it... Holberry Green, maybe?

'Okay, that means-'

That was when Morley appeared on the road in front of her, dark ragged robes blowing in an unseen wind. Buffy hesitated for a moment and then mashed down her foot on the accelerator instead of swerving to one side. Ghost-lady or not she wasn't going to stop Buffy.

But almost instantly Morley made a quick hand gesture and the steering wheel wrenched from Buffy's grasp and spun hard to the left like it was alive. The van lurched violently and sprung high upwards as it mounted the curb, engine still roaring, and crashed through the wooden barrier and hedgerow that separated the sidewalk from the churchyard. Buffy was jolted in her seat and her head slammed against the wheel before she was thrown back, and slammed her shoulder against the cab door.

She blinked the stars out of her eyes as up ahead she saw the van swerve directly for a sturdy looking tree. She barely managed to duck down into the foot well just as the careening rumbling van slammed headlong into the thick trunk. There was a shriek of metal and fierce moments of juddering before the noise died with a cough. The world stopped vibrating and came into silent focus once again. Buffy pulled her arms away from her head and scrambled upwards onto the seat. The cab door had popped open on impact and various intense fuel-like smells were wafting in from outside.

Buffy pushed her legs forward and jumped to the ground, oomfing as her legs folded and she fell on the wet grass.

"Ow. Let the record show that the crash was so not me." She muttered as she pulled herself up, peering around the half-light looking for Morley.

She saw her, still on the road, seeming to watch Buffy with interest. Her arms were half outspread like she was readying another spell.

Buffy turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, keeping the van and tree line between her and Morley. She seemed to remember, or maybe just pray, that lots of harmful spells need line of sight to get the intended target.

So Buffy ran for shelter, she ran for the church.

"Will you... wait up... ?" Xander gasped out after Faith, as she marched further and further away from the beach. She stopped and brushed some hair out of her face. The sea breeze on her skin might've actually been nice in other circumstances.

Faith turned towards him as he approached, letting her face show frustration. "Waste of goddamn time. A dead end."

Xander stopped and bent over to put his hands on his knees. "Literally. What with the dead... thing, at... the end. Whew. Man, that's one stinky cave."

Faith shook her head as she grumbled to herself. "You woulda thought he'd bleed a little y'know, leave us a trail to follow. And also he'd be in pain, so that's a bonus." All they had found instead was some huge, dead lizard-crab monster surrounded by busted swords, blackened glass and half-buried boxes of supposedly mystic junk

Xander craned his neck to look at her as he got his breath back. "Rayne has a van. He'd just be bleeding all over the inside of his van. Still no trail."

Faith looking at the sun that was peaking over the horizon, scowling. Why did it always feel like she was failing? Ever since she woke up from her coma she couldn't get anything right. Not the fighting, not the dying and now this. When Buffy needed her badly, she couldn't even pull it together.

"All night and nothing to show for it. One dead vamp and Rayne still has hold of B, and now he's got some cruddy beach-doodad."

Xander straightened up. "He's got to be moving back into town, its broad daylight now. Somebody will see them both or Rayne'll slip up or hey, Buffy might escape. She's been powerless before and made it out okay."

Faith frowned at that. "Huh? When 'zactly?"

Xander shrugged. "Last year with the Watcher's scary test-thing. On her birthday."

Faith scowled in anger. "Damn, they actually did that to her? Sons of bitches." She actually thought Giles was better than that.

Suddenly he twigged. "Oh hey, yeah. Did you get that Crew-whatever as well? Actually when is your birthday?" His eyes widened comically, "Oh man, how old are you?"

"I didn't let them get the chance. Read my old Watcher's diary and boom, there it was. 'Watcher strips the slayer of their power on their eighteenth, what a jolly old test'. 'Cause damn if anybody can let a woman go having too much power, gotta keep 'em in line." Then she cast a smirk his way, "And relax stud, we were legal. Real quick, but legal. You could work on your stamina a bit more though." She gestured towards his exhausted stance, "Take up jogging or somethin'."

He looked stung and started blustering defensively. "Hey, I jog, okay. I... jog all the time nowadays. I'm a pretty good uh, jogger. I think."

"I mean jogging with someone else, dude."With that she turned and continued walking, mystified as to why Buffy would keep a guy like that around, if not to let off some steam now and then. Yeesh.

Faith felt the sea breeze blow up against the back of her neck stronger than before and, acting purely on instinct, she turned around.

"Ya-hah!" Xander cried out as he almost walked straight into the figure that was now standing on the road between them; a guy in hooded robes, a monk or something. Faith couldn't see his face but could sense that they were looking straight at her. Something about the way the dark hood seemed to focus on her gave her the creeps.

Xander put a hand on his chest and took a quick step back. "Oh my god I just had a flashback to watching The Frighteners... Okay, I'm good now."

Faith's hand went to her belt and she levelled her eyes at the spook. "So I'm guessin' you must be Morley."

The figure nodded. "And you are Faith, the Vampire Slayer. It is a privilege indeed."

Faith rolled her shoulders in anticipation of getting to finally fight something. "Not many evil types feel that way for long after meetin' me."

"Ah, apart from the ones you worked for that is." The figure replied in a mocking voice, "I'm sure those became quite fond of you."

Faith felt a flash of anger and before she knew it her knife was out and ready. "Just so you know I'm not the witty banter-type slayer, more about dishing out wicked amounts of pain." She took a step forward.

"Oh please." Morley's gestured dismissively with her hand, "I didn't come here to fight you girl. I came, as always, to help you."

Faith raised her eyebrows sceptically as she readied her first strike. "Hard to believe. You hurt Buffy."

There was a huff of amusement. "No more than you have. You tormented her and so she returned that particular kindness. And yet you still want to save her after what she did to you."

Faith didn't like this chick or the way she was mouthing off. It made her feel hesitant and unsure. Instead of dishing out some damage she found herself spitting back. "Oh yeah, what the hell do you know about it?" But her words sounded forced even to her.

"It was I who brought you out of your coma, child. I guided you through layers of nightmares. You're welcome by the way. And if you don't believe me I can simply describe some of the worst ones to you. Quite twisted they were."

Faith shook her head; she couldn't believe her even though the woman's voice sounded so knowing and certain. She found herself taking an uncertain step back. When she spoke her voice sounded weaker. "Why would you even... why?"

The cowled woman leaned closer; Faith could almost feel her gaze. "It is because I believe in you, Faith. Like all the powers of darkness I watch your journey with interest, and I wish to help. And so I will aid you in saving Buffy. She will soon be in terrible danger."

Faith didn't say anything, those words, the choice of them made her head spin. Buffy's soft promise given a creepy-ass spin. 'Maybe it was true.'

Morley continued. "Return to where you and your allies are gathering. Then all you need do is turn on the television and take the next appropriate step."

Faith blinked at the loco instruction. "Huh?"

"You heard me. Follow my directions and they will lead you to Buffy, just in time. And oh, how she'll thank you." The last words were mocking and then the robed figure was gone with a swirl of cloak.

Faith looked around belatedly, feeling all kinds of stupid for falling for some twisted sister's mind games. She could've gotten Buffy's location out of her but now...

"That was awesome. And also creepy. And really ominous. This Morley's like a proper super-villain. She's got the flashy powers, the walking against the wind, the outfit, and the eerie proclamations down just-"

Faith put her knife away, much good that it did her. "We should get going."

"Hey wait, we're not going to talk about the boat-load that Evil-Lynn just blabbed-"

"Nope, we're gonna head back to Giles and regroup." Faith turned to go before frowning and giving Xander a questioning look, "Giles's TV works? I thought it was fancy British art or somethin'."

Xander smirked. "Heh. I know, right?"

Buffy entered the back of the church, banging on the solid wooden door before trying the handle. With a protest of stiff hinges the heavy door gave as she pushed it.

"Hello!" Buffy called out.

The room she was in was small and cosy, with thick carpets and lots of old wooden furniture. Some place for the priest guy to hang his cassock or something. Buffy craned her neck as she looked around, hoping for some sign of life or activity. She wasn't sure when church services started but she got the impression that it was usually really early. It was a Sunday so the church would have plenty of business. Hopefully Buffy wouldn't be crashing a wedding. Or a funeral.

She made her way across the room and into the next one; a larger and darker place with a higher ceiling and coloured windows which provided the only source of light. She blinked upwards at the stained glass as she tried to get her bearings, and then tripped as her legs hit something solid.

She fell, sprawling heavily against a wooden bench. She gently cupped her ribs where she banged them, thinking that she was going to be one massive bruise by tomorrow.

She turned over and her eyes bugged when she saw the body; a man dressed in black with a white collar. The priest-collar was heavily stained with blood.

Then she heard a voice in the gloom. "Didn't I tell you boys? Didn't I say, this was the place to test our faith?"

Then she saw them, four vampires standing in the shadows near another doorway.

The voice continued, now vaguely familiar. "A place to find our purpose and show no fear."

The largest vampire took a step forward. It was Gravedigger.

He grinned at her. "What's say we have ourselves a rematch?"