Conspiracy Theory

XxxxxxX

"You don't explain to the janitorial staff how the company he works for is a part of a sinister international conspiracy whose goals is to infiltrate and control the government. You just tell them to clean the floors." – Jim Butcher

XxxxxxX

Alex sighed as she paged through the book she'd been given – it was the Peregrinus Stella, which her mind immediately translated to "Stranger to the Stars" without prompting. That morning, Buffy had gone to the bank to get a loan for home repairs, and had been interrupted by a demon attempting – successfully, at least in part, it seemed – to rob the bank. While the three Slayers – and wasn't that just a kick in the head, three Slayers; so much for the entire 'one girl in all the world' thing – were out rousting the usual suspects for information, the rest of the group, plus Alex who was still looked at suspiciously by some of the group, were trying to figure out what kind of demon they were looking for.

There was nothing there covering tall, muscular lizard-demons who robbed banks, at least not in the Peregrinus Stella. Seemed to her that this book was much more Lovecraftian than Bonny and Clyde, concentrating on things from beyond the stars. Still, she promised to help, so she was helping.

Alex pulled herself away from the book and looked around the Magic Box. The entire support crew was there, except Faith and the red-headed Watcher, Lydia Lamontagne. Both women had accompanied the Slayers on their task of busting heads and gathering information.

She stretched and yawned. Normally, Alex had the patience of a saint, but this was just boring. Alex turned her attention to the loft, where the two remaining Watchers seemed to be having more of a tea-and-crumpets mixer than a research party. She could feel the eyes of both Rupert Giles and Diana Dormer on her. They didn't trust her as far as they could spit a dead rat, it was clear. Alex hoped they got over it, since they were her only way home.

But she was still bored, so when Marie Summers approached Willow Rosenberg, having grabbed one of the unoccupied volumes from the shelves, she immediately latched onto it as a distraction. Marie sat down on the other side of Willow from Oz and opened the book.

"I don't think so, missy. If Buffy came in and you had your nose in one of these books, she'd have kittens. Brick-shaped kittens that were eating brick-shaped eggrolls, even." Willow had stopped what she was doing and was focusing on Marie. "You're not old enough to do research."

"Oh, come on, Willow. I am so old enough to do research. I'm not a kid. I can handle mature subject matter." Marie rolled her eyes at Willow. Sensing possible trouble, Alex moved herself around so she was seated on Marie's other side. Out of all the Scooby Gang, Marie had been the one to accept Alex the easiest. She was still getting 'I'm all freaked out' vibes from Buffy.

Willow was vacillating. "Well…"

"It's not that anyone thinks that you're too immature, Marie. It's..." Alex said. She immediately cut herself off. Every eye in the shop turned to her, as if they were surprised she was speaking. It took Alex a moment to realize that she probably shouldn't be saying anything, as she was still an outsider. "Sorry. Shutting up now."

"No, it's a good point." Willow nodded. "I mean, I personally think you're way mature for your age, Marine, but the truth is, you're still just fifteen."

"Right, fif-teen." Marie responded, putting obvious emphasis on the final syllable of the word. Alex took the opportunity to sneak the book Marie had brought to the table out from under the young girl's hands. Oz, the only other person at the table to spot the maneuver, gave her a nod and quirked his mouth at her. "You know, as in 'teenager.'" Marie grinned. "If you don't let me look at the pictures, I'm gonna learn everything I know about demons out on the street."

"Willow." Giles' voice coming from above, carrying an obvious tone of warning, caused everyone to look up at the two Watchers. Alex shook her head as the older man and the Red Witch had a silent conversation before Willow turned her attention back to Marie. Willow stared at the teenager for a long while, not speaking. Then her eyes traveled to the other people in the room, as if taking a poll. Willow finally landed on Alex, who shrugged, as if to say Hey, I'm the outsider here, don't ask me. After a long pause, she sighed and motioned to Alex to hand the book back to Marie, who almost bounced in place as she took it.

"Here you go, kid." Alex smirked. "Knock yourself out."

Above them, Giles let out an exasperated sigh and sat back down to resume his conversation with the other Watcher.

Marie's grin was larger than her actual face. "Thank you." She opened the book at random and began flipping through pages. "See? No biggie. I can totally handle it." She glanced down at the picture on the page in front of her, instantly curious. "Wow, that's a weird place for a horn."

Willow caught Alex's eye behind Marie's head. One eyebrow rose on the redhead's face, and Alex just shrugged in response.

"Oh lord, that's not a horn." Marie slammed the book shut. She sat there, motionless for a moment, before opening the book back up to the very same page for another look.

Alex couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Once you're hooked on that demon porn, you'll never look at Playboy Magazine in quite the same way." Once again, all eyes were on her, but at least some of the gazes held humor. Eventually, they all went back to the books and were silent for a while. Then Xander spoke.

"I still don't get it," he said. "I mean, what kind of demon robs a bank?"

Oz shrugged, and Willow merely shook her head. Alex, on the other hand, went for the obvious answer. "The kind that wants money."

Xander was undeterred. "Yeah, but what do you even call that?"

"This." Marie held up another book, proudly. Her finger was pointing to the picture of the demon. "I'm guessing on how you say it, because it's got an apostrophe, but I think it's 'MMM-Fashnik'. Like 'MMM-cookies'." Everyone laughed.

"Could be 'Muh-Fashnik', like 'Muh…' Xander was silent for a small moment, before finishing. "… fashnik." They were still rolling their eyes at him when Buffy, Dawn, Vi, Faith, and Lydia entered from the back room. As the two Slayers approached the table, Marie stood and thrust the book at her older sister.

"That your guy?" Marie asked.

Buffy didn't answer, but gave Marie a bemused look. "So, you do research now? You want a cappuccino and a pack of cigarettes to go with that?"

"Would you just look at the picture?" Marie held the picture up so that her sister could see it clearly.

"Doesn't exactly fit the profile of your typical bank robber." Dawn said, scrutinizing the pages over Buffy's shoulder.

Buffy smiled at that. "I dunno… maybe they turned down his loan application." To Marie, she said, "Yeah, that's him. Big, bad… this thing was stronger than I was, guys. No weapons I could see, but still real dangerous."

Both Giles and Dr. Dormer came down from the loft. "So, what have you found out about this demon, Marie?"

"Other than he robs banks," Willow added.

"Yes, other than that." Giles continued to Marie, who had returned to her place at the table. He leaned over her shoulder to take in the book. "Ah, M'Fashnik."

Marie immediately whirled in place to confront Xander. "See? Like MMM-Cookies!"

"Ah, no. Quite different. The M'Fashnik comes from a long line of mercenary demons. They are known to perform acts of mayhem and slaughter for the highest bidder."

"Well, that is the American way," Xander joked.

Giles's face moved into the momentary smirk that he always made when one of Xander's jokes amused him. The expression never lasted. "Hmm. Quite. But it raises an even more important question: who out there is powerful enough to control one of these things?"

"That's even less like you're typical bank robber. I mean, really? Would a sorcerer powerful enough to hire this guy really need to knock over a bank?" Dawn took the book from Marie, stared at the picture for a while, then handed it around.

When it came to Alex, she memorized what the thing looked like. "Well, I can do a sweep of the town, see if I spot him for you. Shouldn't take me too long, either."

The Slayers and their Watchers held an impromptu conference using nothing but facial expressions. It made Alex shake her head. "Come on, guys, this isn't rocket science. Given my sensory abilities, I can probably spot this guy from the moon. You saying you don't want me to find out where the Guy Behind the Guy is holing up so you can take him down?"

"It's not that we don't…" Dawn began. Alex held up a hand and she stopped speaking.

"Sure, it is," Alex said. "You're still not convinced I'm not just some weird demon here to infiltrate your lives and kill everyone. You've got this 'Henry Gyrich-something that powerful must be planning on attacking us in our sleep' vibe going on. I can smell it on all of you. It's been three months, really, I just want to go home. That's all. There's someone back home waiting for me, and she doesn't know where I am or what happened to me. That's all. No attacks, no ambushes, just homesickness."

Buffy had the good grace to look sheepish. "Yeah, okay. I still think you're a little freaky, but I guess… I mean… you haven't done anything so far and you've offered to help, and I love how you helped with the car the other day." She took a deep breath and gave Alex a smile. "So, okay, you're right. You're absolutely right." The Slayer took a deep breath and let it out. "Tell you what. You and Vi go see if you can spot this thing, find out where its hiding, and then we can all go in and shut this sorcerer guy down."

The two stared at each other for a long moment, before Alex nodded, relieved to at least reached a somewhere in the middle with Buffy. "Okay. Me and Vi will go do that." She glanced over to the youngest Slayer, who was standing next to her boyfriend. Jonathan, for his part, had a hand around her waist, which was easy since when he was sitting and she standing, her waist was at his shoulder height. "Hey, Vi, looks like…"

"Yeah, I heard." She leaned over and kissed Jonathan on the top of his head. "Be back soon, sweetie."

Alex headed out of the shop's front door, Vi in tow. "I figure we can do a quick patrol of the town, and then maybe grab a pizza or two for the group. I don't know what everyone likes, but you can't go wrong with a meat extravaganza, right?"

Vi shrugged off the pizza question. "I like 'em, and I know Jonathan does too. But it's going to be hours if we're patrolling the whole town, right?"

Alex stopped and turned, facing the Slayer. "Well, not quite."

"What do you mean?" Vi put a hand on her hip and tapped her feet impatiently.

"Well, I was thinking we could go the express route." Before Vi could react, Alex stepped into the younger girl's personal space, spun her around gently, and grabbed her by the waist. Then she launched herself into the sky.

Vi's frightened scream made the practical joke aspects of the situation worth it.

XxxxxxX

Louise woke slowly, and into darkness, and the wet feeling of the transport gel covering her body. This time, at least, she hadn't panicked. The first couple of times she had come to surrounded by darkness, feeling gooey and slow because of the gel, with the breathing mask firmly on her face, she'd nearly suffocated herself before the assholes who were moving her noticed and increased her sedation.

Her captors did this now and again. Every so often they stuffed her in a metal tube filled with 'confinement gel' – some colorless goop designed to slow movement – and moved her to yet another undisclosed location. One of the guards – saying he was a 'friendly' guard was a misnomer, as he was merely less antagonistic – had explained it to her once. All the high-value prisoners were moved around a lot. If the prisoner's friends and family didn't know where they were, they had a harder time breaking them out of prison.

The logical, non-emotional side of Louise would say it was probably a good plan. The snarky, sarcastic side of Louise would say it smacked of over-dramatics. The terrorized innocent who was being held prisoner by the military on trumped-up terrorism charges could say it was torture.

Alex, come get me, I need you! Please come get me!

The worst part about what she was going through was not knowing how long it had been. She knew it was more than a few days, but beyond that? She had no idea. And Louise knew that keeping the prisoners disoriented like that was another method of control. She had asked one of the guards once, and they told her – except the next time she asked, they told her another number, and it was smaller than the first one. Just another type of torture.

Louise found what comfort she could in cataloging all the things that could have happened, but hadn't yet. She hadn't been raped. Even though she was kept naked – she was naked right now, in fact – she hadn't been sexually violated beyond a certain level. The soldiers holding her might get grabby while moving her around, but there was a line they didn't cross, apparently. She still had both her eyes, and her fingers and toes were all there. The only thing they'd ever cut off was her hair.

It helped her cope.

Alex, please hear me. I'm not sure how long I can endure this without going crazy. I can feel it all in the back of my head, just waiting to drown in it. Please come get me!

XxxxxxX

As soon as the frightened surprise wore off and the roller-coaster-thrill caught on, Vi was a more than ideal passenger on the flight over the town. Alex had shifted Vi around into a bridal carry to make the other girl feel safer – she absolutely was not going to let Vi ride her piggy-back style; that was fun reserved for Louise and only for Louise.

"It might be a little difficult to spot it. We're moving pretty fast." Vi had to raise her voice above the sound of the wind. She was keeping an eye on the ground as it passed under the two of them.

"Yeah, about that. My eyesight is a lot better than average. Even better than the enhanced senses you get as a Slayer." Alex swept the neighborhood beneath them, tuning her eyes to X-Ray when she needed to.

"Oh yeah? So, what else can you do?"

"I'm pretty much impossible to hurt, I can hold my breath for a really, really long time. I'm stronger than you would believe, even after watching me beat Glory's ass. I'm really fast." Alex shrugged. "I told you guys I was a Kryptonian."

"I was always more a Marvel fan than DC. You know, Spider-Man. Storm is my favorite superhero. All that girl-power yay me." Vi smiled as she watched the road beneath her. "When that one guy took her out of X-Men and made her Black Panther's arm candy, I sort of lost interest. What a waste of a wonderful character. That writer was an idiot, anyway. He even turned the Panther into an arrogant jackass"

Alex smirked. I might have to go visit the Panther when I get home just to find out what she's talking about. Now that – wait! She surged over a housing development at the foot of Sunny Hills. "Look, over there. Is that our guy?" She pointed with the arm that was supporting Vi's back. "Over there! I think that's him!"

Vi followed Alex's arm. "I can't tell, I can't see him."

"No problem. He walked through the door of the garage on that house there." She squinted, searching the garage using X-Ray vision. "There's three guys in there, and they seem to be talking."

"Well what are we waiting for? Get me on the ground and we can see what's what."

"Right, hold on." Alex dropped like a rock, but slowed enough to land lightly, right outside the garage. She held a finger to her lips, then pointed the same finger to her own ear. Vi nodded and did the universal 'locking my lips up tight' sign that caused Alex to grin.

She turned her attention to the voices inside the building. The loudest, angriest of them was obviously the M'Fashnik. "You hired me to create carnage and chaos for you! You told me you were powerful men, commanding machines, magicks, and the demon realms below!"

A second voice, coming from the tallest of the three people, replied, "We are"

A third voice, this one sounding weak and unsure. "Yuh-huh."

And lastly, the fourth, a voice sounding like the third, if a bit deeper. "We're like, super-villains." Then there was a round of laughter that obviously was meant to be evil and maniacal. To Alex, it sounded like it needed work.

The demon growled out, "Which of you is leader?"

That was enough for Alex. Motioning for Vi to follow her lead, Alex grabbed the garage door by the exterior handle and lifted. There was a grating sound, the sound of metal grinding on metal. Within seconds, the garage was open to the air, the door permanently raised and jammed into the rails of the opener system. Inside, there were three teenaged boys and the demon.

"Hello, boys! Did we miss the invitation to the party?" Alex smirked at the four. She recognized Tucker Welles and his dweeb baby brother Andrew, but the third guy was a mystery. The entire garage had been converted into a dweeb's paradise: large screen TV, game system, stacks of bank boxes full of comic books, a wall full of action figures.

And two garbage bags filled with cash from the bank.

"Warren Meers? I thought you skipped town! Aren't the cops looking for you?" Vi cried out. It figured that the third guy had some sort of history with the Scoobies. Alex ignored it for now.

"You know, boys, summoning a M'Fashnik demon to rob a bank for you is naughty-naughty." The boys just sat there, but the M'Fashnik roared and charged her. Behind it, the teens had apparently got the message and bolted from their seats.

Alex stepped up to the demon, which swung one of its massive arms at her. She didn't even attempt to dodge the blow; she just took it on the cheek. The thing roared again and stumbled backward, holding its shattered fist to its chest.

In her peripheral vision, she could see Vi taking this 'Warren' guy down with a basic wrist-lock. "Don't you two move. Not an inch!" The Slayer screamed at the other two boys, who froze. Alex was impressed. For as mousy and unmenacing as she was normally, when she was on the job, Vi was a hard-ass.

The M'Fashnik bared its teeth at Alex and threw another punch. This one Alex caught in one hand and just held there. "Sorry to say, dude, but your ticket was punched when you robbed the bank." Alex pulled the demon by the arm and twisted, and suddenly its arm was off. Black blood spurted all over the drive-way. A follow-up punch caved in its skull.

She eyed the three boys. Warren was face-down on the pavement, being held there by Vi. The other two were staring at her in horror. "Okay, assholes. Grab up those bags. We're going to the cops, all of us. Which of these cars is yours?" Andrew Welles pointed to the black van down by the side of the road. "Perfect. Keys?"

Tucker Welles pointed to Warren. After some fishing about, Vi tossed the car keys to Alex. "Let's get them loaded into the van."

"Right." Vi said, hauling Warren to his feet. "You know, Buffy's going to freak out again."

"Why the hell would Buffy freak out? I tracked down the demon, found the bad guys who hired him to rob the bank." She held up the garbage bags full of money in one hand. "Found the stolen money, which is getting returned, I might add. What the heck does she have to get freaked out over?"

"It's – "Vi waved toward the garage, where the mangled door still hung in the air. "—all that! You're just so – you can do all this – and it's not…"

"Oh, for crying out loud, really? More of this horse shit?" Alex huffed. "What part of helping isn't penetrating your thick skulls already? What do I have to do for you to get that I'm not a threat? Die? Should I just die? Will you be happy then?"

"Hey, you don't need to – ", but that was as far as Vi got.

"Whatever. What the fuck ever, all right? Just… just shut it. Let's take these assholes to the cops, and then you and your friends can get even more paranoid about me, and I'll just see if I can't find some other group of ungrateful, unhelpful assholes to send me home, since you're all so intent on treating me like shit. And you can tell Buffy I got the fucking message, all, right? You assholes don't have to keep treating me like I'm some kind of fucking bomb about to explode on you. I'll just get the fuck away from you and leave you the fuck alone, all right?"

Alex swiped at the tears in her eyes. Fuck! She hated crying in front of people who hurt her.

XxxxxxX

Peter Parker tapped on the steering wheel nervously as he drove. There was no way this was going to work. He sighed, and then gave voice to his nerves. "You know, Cap, there's no way this is going to work."

"It is going to work. And don't call me Cap when we're dressed like this. Call me General, or General Rogers. If you do anything else, you'll blow our cover." Peter nodded, still nervous. He looked down at himself. He was dressed in a US Army Class A uniform. Rogers had informed him were called 'dress greens'. There was a small selection of ribbons on the left side of his chest, and a few medallions and stuff hanging from his right side. His collar on one side had a weird flowery insignia, and the other collar had two silver bars on it.

Next to him, Steve Rogers was dressed in a similar uniform. His medals and decorations were much more extensive, including one on top that Pete recognized as the Congressional Medal of Honor. Cap's collars had a single star on each of them. And sitting in the back, Janet Van Dyne completed the set; she wore these gold things on her collar that Steve had called 'oak leaves" but they didn't look like any oak leaves Peter had ever seen.

"For the record, I don't like the dress-up part of this mission. I mean – I know this is going to sound like amateur hour and all, but I never served in the military, not even Junior ROTC in high school. It feels…" Peter searched his feelings for a moment. "It feels like I'm doing something wrong by doing this." He felt dirty, somehow.

"Understandable." Cap – General Rogers, Peter reminded himself – glanced out his window. "To be honest, I hate having you doing it. No offense, Pete, but civilians dressing up in military uniform and pretending to be soldiers is an offense against every real serviceman who ever lived. But you know the saying about hard choices."

Peter just nodded. "So, that's how you deal with this odd feeling of guilt about wearing a uniform you didn't earn? By repeating that it's all for the greater good?"

Rogers just smirked and shook his head. "Uh, Peter?" Janet said from the back seat. "Steve's not wearing a uniform he didn't earn. He really is, uh, a real general. All those medals are really his."

Peter gave the man next to him a quick, curious glance. "Really?"

Rogers shrugged. "Yeah. All those years I was in a block of ice, the Army had me listed as missing in action, not killed in action. If you're missing, your file is kept open, so that if you return, you get everything you're due, like back pay and such." He shrugged again. "When I formally retired from the military, I was given a permanent retirement rank of Brigadier General." Rogers tapped the stars on his collar.

Peter whistled in appreciation. "Wow. So, uh, the medals, they're all – "Rogers nodded again, silent. "Even the CMH?"

"Even the CMH. Got that in… what was it… 1943, for doing this airdrop into the Schloss Adler. It was a castle the Nazis were using as a planning headquarters in the Bavarian Alps." Rogers sighed. "That was a different time. Here's the turn."

"Right. Sure." Peter turned into the drive that led directly to the entrance of the military base. "So, all those times Carol pulled rank on you, all those times she gloated about how she was a Lieutenant Colonel and you were a lowly Captain…"

"Yeah, I was letting her get away with that. If I wanted, I could have put a real block on her military career for insubordination. But I didn't." Rogers shrugged. "Not worth it at the time. Now everyone ready. If Miss Rosenberg and her people are a third as good as Stark says they are, this will be smooth. If not, we'll figure it out as we go."

"Right. No pressure." He stopped the car just in front of the barricade, the driver's side window even with the door of the guard shack. The guard stepped out, giving a clipped salute to the car – Peter knew it was to Rogers, as he was the guy with the stars on his uniform, but it was in the direction of the car – and then leaned into the car's window.

"Good morning, sir, ma'am. I need to see your orders and authorization for entry, please."

"Certainly." Rogers nodded to Peter, who fished the manila folder from between their seats. Janet handed Peter the identity card Stark had given her, while Cap handed over his. Peter fished his own out of his breast pocket, then handed all three cards and the folder to the guard.

"One moment, sir." The guard stepped back into the shack, opening the folder as he went.

"There's no way this is going to work." Peter said through clenched teeth. His lips barely moved.

"This is going to work. Calm down. Stark assured us that Rosenberg's people were solid. We have to trust them." Peter could hear Janet take a deep breath. "Stay calm."

The guard was tapping at something unseen, probably a computer terminal. Occasionally, he'd glance at the car. After two minutes, he strode back to the window and handed everything back. "Thank you, sir. Have a good day." With that, the guard stepped back into the shack. The gate opened and the barricade rose, and as Peter drove on through, the guard saluted again.

XxxxxxX

There was a bump. Despite the transport gel holding slowing everything down and making it hard – but not impossible – to move herself around, or to feel the tube moving, there was a bump. Louise felt it, she knew she felt it. There wasn't any other indicator of sensory input other than the sound of her own pulse in her ears, and then there was another, harder bump. This time, the bump was followed by a ripple in the gel, like a wave that went from the top of the tube, where her head was, down to the bottom near her toes, then back up.

As if the tube was sloshing.

Alex! I'm here! I'm here! Please, God, come get me! I'm here!

A third bump, and this time there's absolutely no mistaking it. The entire tube shudders.

That's right, baby! I'm right here! Please, come and get me! I love you! I just want to be with you! Please come and get me out of this, Alex! Please!

Without warning, everything shifts. While the gel kept her suspended, there was still the pull of gravity on her inner ear; it wasn't like floating in water, more like floating on a water bed. She'd always been able to tell which way was down when she was being moved. But now…

Now gravity was pulling a different way, and there were bumps. Louise latched on to the sound, and to the sense of sudden motion, like a lifeboat.

Something had happened.

She's coming for me! My baby is coming for me!

XxxxxxX

Everyone looked up as the bell above the door dinged. "Violet, you're back. How did it go?"

Vi only looked sheepish at Dr. Dormer's question. "Well, it, uh, it went, I guess. We, uh, well, we flew around town, looking for the demon, and – "

"Wait, you flew?" Buffy was wide-eyed. "As in, she made you fly somehow?"

"Uh, no, Buffy, she picked me up and carried me." Vi held her arms out in front of her and mimed picking something up in both hands. "You know… like I was a kid. And then she flew."

"Oh. Well, that's a relief, I guess."

Vi stared at Buffy with a sense of growing aggravation. Alex hadn't said a word to her since they left the Welles house. They drove to the cops, turned the three dweebs in, signed some papers, and left, all without Alex once saying anything to her. She talked to the cops – she even talked to one of the dweebs when the little jerk made some sarcastic comment – but she never once said another thing to Vi. And then she just flew off to who knows where.

The walk back to the Magic Box had given Vi time to think. She'd thought about Alex and her abilities, and then she thought about how Alex had helped them with Glory. They had needed the help. Even with three Slayers and a super-strong robot girl, they had been getting their asses kicked. Marie had almost been sacrificed. Had Alex not shown up like that, the old guy in the suit would have opened Marie up with his knife like a ripe piece of fruit and it would have been all over. Who knows what would have happened.

Since that night, Alex had helped take out vampire nests, had sealed leaks in the basement pipes of Buffy's house, had spent time with Joyce making sure that Buffy's mom was okay when the rest of them had to go out for other things. She'd helped clean around the house, she'd helped cook. She'd done nothing to merit the paranoia that Buffy, Xander, Willow, and Giles all insisted she be held to.

It had been unfair, and they'd driven the woman away. And all she had wanted was some help getting back home.

"What's with the face? You're looking at me like I did something wrong." Buffy just stood there, staring.

"Why do you have to be a bitch all the time?" Vi was startled. She hadn't intended to say that out loud.

"What? Why the –," Buffy's mouth dropped open, obviously surprised.

Vi took it as an opportunity. "I'm serious. All Alex wanted was our help getting home, and in return you and your 'Scoobies' have been treating her like, like –," Vi thought about it for a second. "—like she was a yeast infection or something! Even worse, you've got us -" Vi motioned to the rest of the group. "– doing it too! What has she ever done to you, Buffy?"

"Where is Alex, Violet?"

Vi turned toward her Watcher. "She flew off. She told me to tell Buffy that she 'got the message' and then she just flew off. And she did this after taking care of your bank robber demon, I might add. She was crying as she flew off, Buffy. Crying. Guess that just proves what kind of evil, despicable demon she was after all, right? What with the helping, and the stopping the bad guys, and the crying at being treated like shit by the people she came to for help?" Vi looked down at her hands. They were shaking. She closed her eyes and took some deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She wasn't sure why, but her sudden realization about how she and Buffy, and all the Scoobies, and even Dawn – everyone but Mrs. Summers – had been treating the newcomer really, really bothered her.

"Vi, look, we don't know what 'Alex' is really, she could be –," and that was as far as Buffy got before Vi's punch caught her right in the nose. Buffy didn't fly backward so much as she sat down, hands going to her now bleeding nose.

"Shut up, Buffy. Shut – shut up. I don't want to hear it from you anymore. I'm a Slayer, too. Just like you, just like Dawn. Which means I get a say in the big decisions, too. And I say, we treated that girl badly and it's all your fault because you were too damned paranoid to just help her." Vi stood over Buffy for a minute, then straightened. "I'm going to the training room. Work out some anger."

Everyone else in the room watched the youngest of the three Slayers leave. Then everyone turned their attention to Buffy, who was still sitting on the floor.

"What was that all about? What the hell did I do?" she asked, dumbstruck.

The gang just looked at her, silently, until finally Tara spoke up. "Vi has a point. You and Xander and Willow and Giles have been treating this girl like she was about to cut our throats in our sleep, but she's never done anything to warrant it."

"What about how she took down Glory? What about that?" Xander asked.

"You mean when she helped us beat a Big Bad who was kicking our ass? Yeah, what about that, Xander?" Tara visibly swallowed. She wasn't used to being the assertive one, or the center of attention. "You all promised to help her. But it's been three months. Has anyone found anything that can send her back yet?" Tara turned her eyes to her girlfriend, and Willow almost flinched. "Has anyone even really tried yet?"

"Well, I, uh…" Giles began. Then his shoulders slumped. "Right. We'll get started. I'll take Tempestus Libra. The rest of you, check the codexes. Maybe some sort of homing beacon spell…"

XxxxxxX

Peter Parker hung upside down, hidden by the shadows on the ceiling of the loading dock. He'd finally ditched the army uniform for his usual blue-and-red fighting togs. He was waiting for a very specific cargo to be brought in and loaded into one of the trucks. As he waited, he played a game with himself, inventing backstories for the soldiers and marines who scurried around the dock beneath him. Captain America had told him that the fact that members of two different services were deployed to this base was the huge clue something odd was going on. Normally, the Army and the Marines hated each other, even more so than the Army/Navy rivalry. Something about the Marine Corps having to justify its existence as a 'second army' or something. Having never been military, Peter wasn't sure that he understood it all, but that was fine. It was a military thing, as childish as it seemed.

"Look alive, Pete. Surveillance says they'll be there in about 30 seconds," Tony Stark's voice sounded in his ear. Peter resisted the urge to hold a finger to the earbud he was wearing.

"Got it. What am I looking for, specifically?" When they planned this attack, all they knew was that the target item was going to be transported by truck. They didn't even have a rough idea about the route, hence the entire 'sneaking onto the base' thing. The rest of the details were being learned on the spot.

"From what Rosenberg's told us, it's going to be a long silver tube with lights and controls all over it. Sort of like a big metal coffin. I've got Janet following it, but she's running silent so the solder-boys don't catch on."

"Right. I'll keep an eye out. Where is Cap?" Peter shifted his position so that he was over the inner set of doors, and flattened himself as close as he could to the ceiling. Given his powers, Peter knew he could hold this pose for hours without so much as blinking.

"Cap's beneath you. He switched out his uniform so he looks like just another scut-worker. Don't worry, when the monkey poo is about to start hitting the rotary ventilator, we'll let you know." Trust Stark to make jokes at a time like this.

"And this person we're grabbing, she really is that important?" Peter didn't really mean to bitch; it's just that he had some important concerns. Concerns like, 'is this person really so important that it was worth risking the entire leadership of the resistance in one go?' Not to mention, 'Is this person worth it going head to head with Carol Danvers and her so-called 'New Avengers' over?'

"Trust me, Pete. Call it long-term planning if you want." Stark was trying to be reassuring. "We're going to want this person out of the government's hands when the storm finally hits. And believe me, when this storm hits, it is going to be Cat 5 Hurricane. We want to be ahead of that."

"So, who is she, anyway? All you said was that she was important." Peter counted the figures moving around below him until he spotted one that could only be Captain America in disguise. "Eyes on you, Cap. If you could confirm…" The one he figured was Captain America rubbed the back of his head and then flashed a quick 'V for Victory' as his hand dropped.

"Didn't I tell you? She's Louis Harris. Superwoman's domestic partner." Stark's voice was sardonic, almost.

"Her what?"

There was a sigh. "They're married. Wives. What you call it. A committed domestic relationship."

Peter was silent for a moment. "Huh. I didn't even know she was gay." He started to say something else, but then stopped. "Heads up, the package has entered play." The silver tube, as described, was rolled onto the loading docks by a quintet of marines. At their head was a man in a one-off Captain America costume. A copy of the shield was strapped to his back. Janet squirted through the closing door and flew toward the ceiling, where Peter gave her the high sign. "So, guys, were we expecting Captain Faux-Merica?"

"Walker's here? Crap. Okay, no problem. It wasn't beyond possibility. Everyone get ready. Steve, you know what to do. Wait for them to load the tube onto the truck." The marines below opened the back of one of the cargo trucks and maneuvered the tube toward it. Cap climbed into the driver's side the truck in question and started the thing's engine. The Wasp, on the other hand, jetted over the truck, and then in through one of the open windows. With everyone's attention on the tube and not the truck, it was easy.

"Repositioning." Peter quietly crawled to a new position over the back of the truck's cargo trailer. The tube was loaded into position, several of the marines climbing onboard as well. "Okay, we've got six shooters in the back of the truck with the tube. Walker's just standing there."

"Right. Cap, when you get the signal..." One of the other marines raised the loading dock's exterior door and made some sort of hand sign. Cap returned the sign and hit the accelerator. As the truck began to move, Peter dropped, to flatten against the top of the trailer.

"All right, folks, Operation Booty Call is now underway."

Peter rolled his eyes again. He lifted his head just far enough to see John Walker – the fake Captain America – sprinting after the truck. "Guys, I think I might have been spotted. Walker's chasing the truck. I think he might catch us, too."

"Yeah, this thing drives like a, well, like a truck." Captain America spoke for the first time. "Standard acceleration for a vehicle of this size, yeah, he's going to be on us shortly. Can you handle him, Peter?" It was a fundamental truth of the universe that Spider-Man's greatest advantage when it came to fighting others wasn't the fact that he could bench press an elephant that had a family sedan strapped to its back. Neither was it the fact that his reactions were so fast and his agility so acute he could dodge through machine-gun fire without getting hit by a single round. Nor was it his semi-psychic 'spider-sense' that allowed him to anticipate incoming attacks. It wasn't the fact that his IQ landed somewhere on the scale between Tony Stark and Reed Richards. It wasn't the fact that he had willpower matched by none of his fellow heroes outside of – maybe – Captain America.

No, Peter Parker's real advantage was that – no matter how often he triumphed under adverse conditions – other people insisted on underestimating him. Even his friends, people who had known him for decades, continued to underestimate him. And as far as Peter was concerned, that was just fine. Case in point, the question, "Can you handle him, Peter?" For the second and a half it took Walker to catch up with the truck and leap onto its back, Peter considered John Walker, the man the federal government had hired to take Steve Rogers' place in Carol Danvers new 'Avengers' team.

Walker had been subjected to the same sort of experiment which had turned a weakling from Brooklyn into the Star-Spangled Avenger, and thus had gained superior speed and strength. Years of combat training had turned the man into a living weapon, and his dedication to the country and the people therein had turned him into a hero. The man was, by all accounts, a worthy successor to wear the costume, even if he'd been recruited into this new team for purely political reasons. Peter figured that he and Walker might have gotten along, had circumstances been different. Unfortunately, circumstances weren't different. Walker wanted to arrest Peter and his friends and enforce an unreasonable and fascistic decree coming out of the White House, and Peter just wasn't having any.

"Cap, don't worry about Walker. I've got this. John Walker was about to find out the harsh truth. All that 'superior speed and strength – living weapon' stuff meant diddly-squat to Spider-Man. To Peter, someone with all of Captain America's strength and skill might as well have been Joe Blow from Kokomo.

Walker ran along-side the truck for a moment, then leaped up onto it, catching just enough of to cling to. Having no more reason to hide, Peter stood straight up, unperturbed by the truck's movement. "Hey there! Would you like a hand up?" Walker said nothing, instead choosing to swing himself up and onto the roof of the truck. Peter watched the man gain his feet. Unlike Spider-Man, Walker didn't cling to things; he was looking decidedly unsteady.

"How are you doing today? Nice day for a drive, don't you think?" Peter tried again to get a reaction from the other man, but it wasn't going to happen. Walker reached around and grabbed his shield, mounting it on his arm.

"Peter Parker, you're under arrest for treason, violating national security, and violations of the Registration Act." Walker stepped forward in no doubt what he thought was a threatening manner. Thing was, Peter wasn't having any of it either.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to let you arrest me today." The big man didn't bother to listen. He swung at Peter's head, shield-edge first. Peter didn't even bother to dodge; he just grabbed the edge of the shield and held it there. "Strike one!" Walker tugged on the shield – and his arm – to no effect, then brought around his other first to strike at Peter. This one Peter did dodge, ducking under the swing, which had the added effect of pulling Walker off balance as he hadn't let go of the shield yet. With an open hand, Peter shoved the Captain America wannabe away. Walker slid across the edge of the trailer's roof, grabbing desperately at the edge to prevent himself from falling. "Strike two!"

"Keep him busy, Pete. We've got trouble up ahead. They're forming a blockade." Stark sounded out of breath.

Walker kipped to his feet, then threw the shield at Peter, simultaneously rushing at him. It was a classic Cap maneuver. Unfortunately, to Peter, the shield was moving like it had to plow through nine feet of molasses. Almost casually, Peter snagged the shield out of the air with his webbing, spun in place, and planted the disk firmly in the gut of Captain John Walker, US Marine Corps.

Walker collapsed around the shield, the force of the impact knocking him from the roof of the truck. Peter let him go, and watched as the man skidded along the road into the grass, then tumbled away uncontrollably. "Walker is done. What's up with the roadblock?" Peter crouched at the end of the truck, trying to spot any further hostiles. He could see vehicles maneuvering in the distance, but they weren't going to be in time to stop them from getting the truck and its cargo off the base.

"Being taken care of as we speak." Peter whipped around, watching as the roadblock at the base's front gate got closer. Before he could blink, though, a single figure suddenly appeared as if she had teleported into place. The woman – it was a blonde woman, Peter could see that much – waved her arms, and every single car, the spike strips, and all the soldiers and marines – were swept aside as if someone had cleared a table by tipping it. Even the guard shack was ripped up from its moorings.

"Pete, Sue's going to need a hand up as we pass. Give her a boost, would you?"

Peter moved to the edge of the truck and then over the side. He clung there, and as the truck passed, Sue Storm raised her arms. Careful not to injure her, Peter caught her under the arms and lifted her to the truck, then walked her to the roof.

"Wow, Sue, you're looking good. Funny meeting you here!" Peter smiled under his mask, knowing that Sue could tell it was there anyway.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is, Spidey." Sue shrugged as she scooted around, maneuvering to take best advantage of Spider-Man as an anchor on top of a moving truck. It caused Peter's breath to hitch. Despite being happily married, Peter was still a man, and having a beautiful woman wriggle against you like Sue was doing – however much unintentionally – would make anyone's breath hitch. "You spend your entire life married to one man, things go a little south, and now that you're a free woman again, there's nothing much to do on a Tuesday night except pop some corn and watch movies."

It was meant as a joke, but Peter could catch the pain in what she wasn't saying almost as easily as the humor in what she was. "Right." Reed got custody of the kids. "When's the last time you saw Franklin or Valeria?"

"Okay, children," Stark's voice again. "Looks like we've got about eight minutes before the serious hunt begins. Let's get someplace safe where we can unload the cargo, lose the truck, and be in the wind again." There was a chorus of acknowledgements from everyone.

Sue looked at Peter with a dour expression. She just shook her head and looked away.

XxxxxxX

Alex sat on the end of the pier, soaking in the sunshine and occasionally kicking her feet in the water. She wasn't sure why she came here at all, but for some reason it was helping in a 'not quite really helping' way. At least it was keeping her calm. Besides, sitting in the sun always felt good to a Kryptonian, and this was no different.

She felt the man approach from the vibrations he imparted to the ground. Probably the property owner. I should say something to him. She stood up and brushed off the bottoms of the jeans she had borrowed that morning – from Xander, of all people – and turned.

"Hi there. Sorry, I just needed to think for a moment."

"You needed to think?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Uh, okay. Needed to think. And you, uh, chose my dock to do it on?"

"Sorry, it was a spur of the moment decision."

"Right. Did you see the private property and no trespassing signs?"

"Sorry, no, I really didn't. I do apologize. I'll just go, okay."

"All right, this time. If I catch you back up here on my dock again, I'm gonna hafta to call the Sheriff. I don't like strangers moving around my property."

"Not to worry, sir. I'm leaving." Alex picked up the sneakers – also borrowed from Xander – and glanced at the house. It might have been the very same yard as the one she and Louise had bought, but the house was very different. Very different indeed.

Still on stilts, though. That was something.

She sighed. It had been stupid of her to just run away like that. She needed to go back, swallow her pride, apologize, and try and be good until Giles and the other Watchers could figure out how to get her home. She rose into the air, slowly at first to not knock the man over.

"Bye now," Alex called to the man. Then she was off like a shot.

XxxxxxX

They were roughly ten miles from the base, and beginning to feel rather secure that they'd managed to pull it off, when Ares ran across their course, slamming the truck onto two wheels. The truck rocked, almost tipped, and then crashed back down on all fours. In the cab of the truck, Captain America and the Wasp were jostled but okay. Still sitting on top of the truck, Peter managed to catch Sue Storm's wrist in one hand before she was thrown off and into oncoming traffic.

"Stark, we got trouble. Looks like Ares found us," he heard Cap report.

Stark's response was instant. "Do your best to hold him off. Backup is on your way. ETA fifteen seconds."

Peter looked down at the Invisible Woman, who nodded and faded into non-existence. He let go of her wrist, knowing she could take care of herself, and then leapt from the top of the truck toward the God of War. He managed to tuck into a roll to dodge Ares' counter-attack, then kicked the god in the back of the legs. It was like kicking iron girders; Ares' knees barely moved, but it was enough to throw the Olympian off balance. Spider-Man dodged four more punches, each faster and closer to the mark than the last. He knew that it was only a matter of time before one connected, but that was what they needed. Time.

Peter sprang over the god's head and rolled toward a parked car. With a strength few knew he had, he flung the car toward his opponent. Ares looked braced to knock it aside when suddenly the God of War was knocked back on his heels. The Invisible Woman, suddenly visible, gestured, and an unseen force again slammed into Ares.

Captain America sprang from the truck, leading with his shield. The disk bounced from one of Ares gauntlets back into Cap's hand. The Star-Spangled Avenger went high, aiming punch and shield-strikes at Ares' upper body, and dodging as the god retaliated. Spider-Man dove for the god's legs and came up standing, dumping Ares on his back, but he couldn't get out of his opponent's reach in time. Ares grabbed Peter by the ankle and tossed him into the wall of the closest building. Peter's vision grayed out, but he clambered back to his feet as best he could. Ares was advancing on Sue, apparently gritting his teeth through the force of her strikes.

And then the cavalry arrived.

A quinjet rushed overhead, pausing long enough for Wonder Man and Hercules to both come plummeting out of the sky. They landed to either side of Ares and immediately waded in on the God of War. Ares tried to resist, but it was fruitless. The other two men, with the assistance of the Invisible Woman, had him down and unconscious quickly.

"Peter, are you okay?" Peter shook his head to clear his vision. It was Sue. "Peter?" He tried to answer her, but there was something keeping him from taking a deep breath. Sue turned away from him. "I think Peter's hurt."

"Get him on board the jet, we'll get him to a hospital." Stark's voice ordered. "Janet too. She's still out from where she hit her head when Ares hit us." The quinjet maneuvered into a wider spot on the road and then landed straight down, the benefit of being a VTOL aircraft. "Simon, Herc… grab the cargo. Try not to hurt the soldiers too much."

Peter fought away unconsciousness while Sue all but carried him up the jet's back ramp. She strapped him into one of the jump couches in the back, the ones designed for quick naps. Next to him, Cap did the same to Janet van Dyne, who had a smear of blood above one eyebrow. "I'm… I'll be… fine," he managed to wheeze. "Just got to…"

"Just got to shut up and rest." Sue patted him on the wrist, then moved to make way for the tube they were after. Peter could see Sue grit her teeth. The woman inside the tube had been mistreated, badly, and they all knew it. Now it was their job to heal the woman's hurts and sooth her situation. Tony stark had repeated this, endlessly.

If Louise Harris has been harmed by this government, then I swear to all of you blood is going to rain from the sky, by the gallon. It's only a matter of time before she – Stark never elaborated on who 'she' was supposed to be, but knowing now that this was Superwoman's girlfriend, Peter could figure it out – returns from wherever they sent her. Stark never elaborated on this, either, but he was certain that Superwoman would be back, and would be back relatively soon. And when she gets back, if Louise Harris isn't in good shape physically and psychologically, then the mountains will fall and the seas will boil.

As Peter finally gave in to unconsciousness, his last thought was of the operation: I think we might have just averted an apocalypse. How about that?

XxxxxxX

"So, you're telling me they got away with her?" The President of the United States glanced at his wrist-watch for about the eighth time.

General Thaddeus Ross, known better among his troops as 'Thunderbolt Ross', cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. Unfortunately, that's what I am saying. We found the truck in a side-street near the base. The tube we found in shallow water near Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. Looked like it had been dropped from a great height."

"Like maybe they tossed it out a that airplane of theirs? That figures." The president huffed, but nodded. "Nothin' on the surveillance satellites yet?"

"No, sir."

"All right, General. I'm sure yer men did as best they could. You can go. You can all go."

Ross straightened, then said, "Thank you, Mr. President." There was an echoing round as everyone else in the room followed Ross's example and left, leaving only the President and the Vice-President in the oval office.

"Well, this is God-damned inconvenient, don't you think?" The president's Texas accent vanished, replaced by a slight tinge of Eastern Europe.

"It is, yes." The Vice-President shrugged. "No use worrying. We have to advance the plan."

"Yes, I am aware, but I'm the one who had to make the report." With that, the president removed a key from his pocket, and used it to open a locked drawer in the bottom of his desk. From it, he removed an old fashioned looking phone base and receiver. It had to dial or punch-numbers, just a thick wire leading back to the desk. The president lifted the receiver and waited.

"Yes?" The voice sounded electronic and slightly inhuman, but it always did.

"We no longer have our insurance card against Karen Starr. She was rescued. Looks like Rogers did it with a little help from his friends." The president glanced at the vice-president, who nodded. "The Avengers we still have who are loyal to us were ineffective."

"No doubt." There was a dry chuckle on the other end of the line. "These 'New Avengers' are hardly equal to Stark, Rogers, and their teammates. I'm sure the fact that they are all under the effects of Phillip Masters' compound didn't help. From experience, I can tell you it makes your head feel like it's stuffed with cotton, you end up an emotional wreck, and it's simply hard to act rational. It is to be expected. But you know the saying about eggs and omelets."

There was a pause. The president started to speak, but was cut off.

"Don't worry. If there is one thing I've learned over the years, when dealing with superheroes sometimes things work out, and sometimes they don't." The voice on the other end of the phone sounded reassuring. "When this mission began back in the summer of 2002, you knew it would take patience. Now that patience is paying off. You are doing an excellent job, Mr. Smerdyakov. Do not let a few set-backs break your dedication to the mission. It isn't over yet"

The Chameleon, still wearing the appearance of George W. Bush, smiled even if the man on the other end of the phone call could not see it. "Of course, Baron. You are correct. I'll get back to work. Hail Hydra!"

XxxxxxX

Author's Notes

I had some trouble with this chapter. For the longest time, I couldn't get it to work and couldn't get it to work and couldn't get it to work. And then suddenly it worked. It did not end up like I thought it would. Well, I mean, the last bit with the president was the first thing I wrote. No, I meant, the rest of the chapter went to a place I didn't suspect it would when I started.

Captain America at one point mentions Schloss Adler castle. For those out there who are fans of war films, Schloss Adler was the castle that the heroes infiltrated in the 1968 film Where Eagles Dare, which starred Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. It's an excellent and fun film and I recommend it.

Speaking of Captain America, Steve Rogers' retirement promotion to Brigadier General (that is, to "One-Star General") is an official part of the Marvel canon. It happened in the "Homeland" storyline in 2002. This promotion has never been retracted, contradicted, or ret-conned into non-existence, which means he remains a Brigadier General to this day.

Steve Rogers being awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor is my personal interpretation of something that happened in the pages of Captain America, in which he received the "Presidential Medal of Valor" from Franklin Roosevelt. In that issue, the "Medal of Valor" was described as "the country's greatest medal for bravery." Stan Lee later explained that they didn't call it a "Medal of Honor" because he felt that would be disrespectful to the soldiers, sailors, and marines of time who had earned the real thing.

So, all I did here was change the name.

And he's wearing the medal because it's a part of his uniform.

To all those people who have been complaining about me distorting characters, whether it was the President of the United States or Carol Danvers or anyone else, all I can say is next time, trust the author to know what the fuck he is doing. And to Demona over at Twisting the Hellmouth, who ran me and several other from the site because she objected to how I was portraying Bush, well… now you know why he was acting that way. And you're still an idiot.

Always trust your author to know what he is doing until he absolutely proves he doesn't.

And to the one chucklehead who responded to that last sentence with "So, we're not allowed to criticize you?" do me a favor and go soak your head. You know as well as I do that no, that's not what I mean. What I mean is that I know more about the story than you do, so maybe you need to think about just what you've decided is "wrong" with the narrative of my story.