Author's Note: Hey everyone! I'm so sorry about the wait on this one. I've had the chapter written for almost two weeks, I just hadn't had time to sit down and type it up! My life has been insane since the last post. But, here it is, and I think it's the longest one to date. Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Best Laid Plans…

"The best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew…"

-Robert Burns

Bayville…

"Logan, calm down," Ororo said in her most soothing voice.

"Like hell I will," Logan growled.

"Running off without a plan won't help Charles."

"I've got a plan, Storm. I go to Sunnydale, track the Prof down, and then tear the people holdin' him apart." Wolverine headed out of the room.

"Logan…" Storm called after him with a sigh attached to his name. She didn't even know why she had bothered. Wolverine would never take the cautious route when his temper was inflamed, like it was now. That meant it was up to her to take the precautions that would help to keep him safe while he was charging headlong into trouble.

Fortunately, it was Saturday and if Logan was determined to go on a mission to rescue the Professor, there was no reason that he should go alone when the students were home and would provide excellent back-up. Reaching over to the intercom switch that was built into the Professor's desk, she keyed the system on. "X-Men, assemble in the hanger in five minutes!" It would take Logan at least fifteen minutes to prep the jet, so the students shouldn't have any trouble getting down there before he left.

Leaving the Professor's office, she headed for the elevator that would take her directly to the hanger. Before she reached it, she saw Scott and Jean hurrying down the stairs towards her.

"Rogue and Kitty went down together, and Kurt grabbed Evan and 'ported with him," Scott said.

"What's going on Storm?" Jean asked. "Did Cerebro find another new mutant?"

"I'll fill everyone in when we're all aboard the jet," Storm said simply. The other two nodded and they all entered the elevator as Scott pushed the button that would send it down to the hanger.

The other four students were milling around outside the plane as Logan worked on prepping it for takeoff. When they saw Storm arriving with Scott and Jean they all stood quietly, waiting to hear what was going on.

"X-Men, we're going to California. We're not entirely sure what is going on, but it seems that Professor Xavier might be in some type of trouble."

Looks of concern and alarm flashed across the faces of each student that was present. They all cared greatly about the Professor, and they weren't used to him being in trouble. His telepathy was powerful, and even though he was in a wheelchair, he usually had no difficulty defending himself on the occasions when he came with them on a mission.

"What happened?" Evan asked.

"We received a message from him a short time ago that indicated that he might be in trouble, and when we called his daughter, she wasn't very clear on what was going on," Storm said. Elizabeth had mentioned that she suspected that the Professor was being held against his will, but Storm had no desire to turn the entire team against the Professor's daughter – not if they hoped that she would come to New York to join them.

Storm sighed as she saw Jean's eyes narrow. The younger telepath had undoubtedly picked up on some of her worries, despite her shields. Jean's powers were growing quickly again, which seemed to be common for the young woman. Her telekinesis and telepathy would (sometimes unpredictably) strengthen dramatically before leveling off for a time, only to spike again. It was an unusual pattern, according to the Professor, and he usually took great care to work with Jean to make sure that her powers didn't strengthen so explosively that she lost all control of them. If the cycle was about to start again, it was quite possible that Jean would pick up on any "leaky" thoughts that slipped past Storm's shields without meaning to.

"There's something that you're not telling us, Storm," the young telepath said quietly, but with no accusation in her voice. "How can we help Professor Xavier if we don't know everything that's going on?"

Storm hesitated and glanced at Logan, who was watching from a few feet away as he fueled the plane. He only shrugged and turned back to his task. She turned back to the students and nodded. "There's a chance – and we're not sure of anything yet, which is why I didn't want to mention it – but there is a chance that something may be preventing Professor Xavier from using his powers. Elizabeth claims that he has yet to get in touch with her telepathically, but unless she's a much faster learner than any of us have ever seen, or much more powerful, there's no reason that the Professor shouldn't have been able to reach her – unless something was preventing him from doing so."

More mutters from the students, along with looks of disbelief mingled with outrage. The idea that someone had the ability to keep the Professor – one of the most powerful mutants on the planet – from using his powers was offensive to the youngsters.

"Until we learn more, however, we are not going to assume anything," Storm cautioned them sternly. "There is a great deal that we still don't know about the situation, and this may prove completely unnecessary."

"We can only hope, Storm," Cyclops said quietly.

Sunnydale…City Hall basement…Saturday night…

Charles made another note on the pad of paper in front of him as he turned another page in the file that the Mayor had left for him. He hated to admit it, but the last few hours of looking through the information that had been left for him had pricked his scientific curiosity and awakened his interest in the project.

While the information was a little scant on details and corroborating proof, there was enough detail given to make him wonder what other information might be out there. It had been a long time since he'd had a new project to sink his teeth into. He was still charting and analyzing human mutations when they appeared, but that was an ongoing project and most of the initial work had been done already. At the moment he was in the data-amassing stage, but many geneticists worked on multiple projects at once due to the sheer amount of data needed to confirm a theory. So, having a new project to work on – even if it wasn't by his own choice – was enough to peak his interest.

The click of the door being opened drew his attention away from the files. He looked up to see Faith standing in the doorway. The last time he'd seen her had been when she had brought his lunch down to him, and since then she'd changed her outfit. Before, she'd been wearing tight-fitting black jeans, a very low cut maroon shirt, and black leather boots that came up to her knees. Now, she was dressed even more seductively – a deep V-neck black silk shirt with a sheer midriff, blood-red leather pants that hugged every curve of her hips and legs, and black leather boots with silver chains and buckles that came up to mid-calf. Her dark wavy hair was half pulled up in a careless twist, with the other half down around her shoulders.

"C'mon, Prof. Time for you to go back to your room for the night," his guard ordered impatiently.

Charles closed the file folder, watching her carefully as he did so. He wished he knew what was driving her to help Wilkins – and what her relationship to his daughter was. He was tempted to probe her mind to find out some of the answers, but his ethical considerations made him hesitate. Thus far, she hadn't acted openly against him, and invading her privacy in that fashion was not only rude, it might cause her to fight back in a way that could damage her mind. At the very least, it was an incredible violation of self for her – no matter how careful he was, without getting her permission first, it would seem like a type of mental rape, and he couldn't bring himself to do that to her except in self-defense.

There were also some other considerations for his own safety to consider. Given the barrier over City Hall, and the way that people in this town seemed to react to his telepathy, he didn't want to reveal a hidden asset to her when he might need it later. If he moved to take control of her mind and she had some protection against him the way the Mayor did, she could react violently and he wouldn't have any way to stop her. He couldn't afford to take the chance until he was sure that any action on his part would be successful.

Setting his hands on the wheels of his chair and turning it away from the counter, he faced her. With gentle, controlled pushes, he sent the chair across the room to where she stood at the door. As he passed her, she pushed the door shut and fell into step beside him as they headed for the elevator.

"Faith, how old are you?" Charles ventured to ask her, keeping his voice light and gentle. He wanted to find out some of the answers to the questions that had been bothering him, and he decided to start with something simple.

"What's it to you?" she snapped, her voice full of irritation. Beneath the outward front that she presented, however, he could sense uneasiness and defensiveness.

"You seem to be about the same age as my students and my daughter, and I'm curious as to why you're working with the Mayor like this," Charles replied honestly. "You must have noticed that he is not a good man."

The elevator doors slid open and Faith brushed past him and stepped inside to hold the doors open. Charles moved in beside her, carefully turning his borrowed wheelchair around in the cramped space, still waiting for an answer.

His patient silence was apparently enough to wear his "escort" down. "He's the only friend I've got – the only one who cares about me," Faith finally said, before she fell silent.

"What about your parents?"

She showed no outward response to his question, but despite his shields and the fact that he did have them up, he got an answer nonetheless. A powerful memory slammed into them and, catching him by surprise, slammed past his shields. Images of a tall man beating on a young, dark-haired girl and a woman in her thirties, more images of both adults perpetually drunk, and worst of all, images of the man forcing himself on the girl filled his mind, unchecked.

It took him a moment to recover from the surprise, but he immediately reinforced his shields, cutting off the images that she was sending. Unfortunately, it was too late for him to avoid seeing the memories that she was projecting, and it made some things crystal clear to her. He had noted that she had a mental aura that was tainted by pain, torment, and anger, but he'd had no idea what could have caused such a complete darkening of her mental signature. Now, however, it made sense, as did her attitude of seductive sexuality and aggressiveness.

And, knowing what he did now, he couldn't use his powers to control her, unless it was a matter of life and death. She'd been through enough, and been hurt enough. Unless and until she attacked him or someone else, he wouldn't act against her.

They rode in silence up to the top floor of City Hall, and didn't speak again until they reached the room that was Charles' prison. Faith unlocked the door and pushed it open, and Charles steered himself inside. She followed him into the room.

"The chair, Prof."

Charles turned the chair to face her. "May I request that you leave it here? It is much more comfortable for me than sitting on that cot. I can't escape, if that is what the Mayor is worried about, given the guard that is outside the door. Does it really matter if it is in the room or not?"

Faith hesitated for a moment, obviously considering his words, before she shrugged. "Whatever." With that, she turned and left the room, locking the door behind her.

Charles sighed and looked around the room again. He had a little more mobility now, but no real freedom. He wondered if his X-Men had received his message – surely they had by now! – and if they had understood it. If he knew Logan as well as he thought he did, they were already on their way. If that was the case, and he was still a prisoner when they arrived, the Mayor would quickly learn the error of his ways, because Wolverine would show no mercy.

All he could do – all he had to do – was wait.

Sunnydale High Library…same time…

Oz picked up the large ceramic pot that Willow and Giles had left for them to use in the ritual and carried it over to the stand in the center of the room. While he would have preferred to be with Willow for this raid, they were going for speed and secrecy, not outright fighting.

The doors opened to admit Xander, who was carrying a bag from the magic store.

"You got the goods?" Oz asked.

"Yeah. Essence of toad, twice-blessed sage…" Xander paused and looked at the ingredients in his hand. "Or maybe that's the toad?"

For a moment, Oz wondered if Xander had goofed and bought the wrong ingredients. "We'd better be sure. Destroying this box is supposed to be a pretty delicate operation." The last thing they needed was to do something to cause a bigger threat than the Mayor.

"Then they shouldn't leave it in the hands of the lay people," Xander complained as he headed over to the table.

"Will's got it pretty well laid out," Oz handed Xander several sheets of pink paper.

"Wow, she even drew helpful diagrams." Xander studied the papers for a moment. "That's the pedestal?"

"And all the ingredients. And us. See. There's me - and that's you."

"How can you tell which is which? They both look kinda stick-figure-y to me."

Oz pointed at one of the figures. "That's me. That's my guitar, see?"

"Oh. Got ya."

"Nobody like my Will," Oz said fondly, before a faint feeling of worry filled him. But after a moment, he banished it. Buffy would keep Willow safe, and they'd be back soon."

"No sir, there is not," Xander agreed.

"Okay. Toad me."

City Hall…nine forty-five P.M…Saturday

Wesley pulled up in the driveway and shifted the van to park, leaving the motor running.

"Okay, end of the line," Buffy said quietly as she slid the door open. She jumped out, and then reached back in for a black backpack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she stepped back to allow Angel and Willow to jump out after her. Angel took the bag from her as she slid the door closed and then stepped up to the passenger-side window.

"Now remember, if anything should go awry, Wesley and I will create a diversion," Giles told them, a look of concern on his face.

"Let's synchronize our watches. I have twenty-one four…" Wesley trailed off as Buffy and Willow showed him their bare wrists. He sighed. "Yes, yes. Typical."

"Maybe we could just count. One one-thousand, two one-thousand…" Willow offered.

"Be careful, all of you," Giles admonished them gently.

Buffy smiled at her former Watcher before she led the way over to the east side of the building and located the fire escape ladder. As Angel – the tallest of the group – reached up to pull it down, she frowned at an odd sensation that went through her. It wasn't her vamp-sense, which was tingling enough to let her know there were definitely vampires inside. It was something else…something both foreign and familiar.

Willow had already started up the ladder, and Angel was waiting to let her up first. When she didn't move, trying to place what she was sensing, he touched her on the shoulder. "Buffy? What's wrong?"

Buffy shook her head slightly and reached for the ladder. "Nothing. Just thinking." She scaled the ladder quickly and pulled herself over the edge of the roof. Angel was right behind her and as soon as she was clear he tossed the backpack up to the roof.

Buffy scooped it up and carried it over to where Willow was standing next to the skylight. She reached into the bag and pulled out an old book. Willow took it and began flipping through it, looking for the spell she needed.

Angel joined them and opened the skylight as Buffy reached back into the bag and removed a glass jar filled with a crystalline powder. The box was below them, sitting in the center of the conference table. There were no outward, visible signs of protections or alarms, but they had to be there. There was no way the Mayor would leave something this crucial to his Ascension completely unguarded. She handed the pack off to Angel, who immediately began pulling the last surprise from it – climbing rope and harness, and a pulley system.

"You ready, Wills?" Buffy asked in a whisper, uncapping the jar and handing it to her best friend.

Willow nodded and consulted the book before she started carefully shaking the powder out of the jar and through the skylight. As it fell, glittering, toward the box, a softly glowing blue dome shimmered into sight. "Sis modo dissolutum exposco, validum scutum! Diutius nec defende a manibus arcam, intende!"

As she spoke the last words, there was a bright flash before the dome melted away, leaving a ring of powder around the box, just before a second, softer flash crackled between the box and the skylight. Both girls jumped slightly.

"What was that?" Buffy whispered, half-expecting that they'd tripped an alarm. But nothing seemed to happen.

"I – I think there must have been a second shield protecting the room," Willow said after a moment. "The spell must have taken them both out."

They waited several seconds more, but everything remained quiet and calm. Slowly, a grin crossed the young witch's face. "Oh, yeah, I'm bad."

Buffy smiled. "Four stars Wil. Now take off." She paused again at the odd feeling that went through her. It was so familiar…

"Taking off," Willow agreed, taking the backpack from Angel and stuffing the book and the now-empty jar inside. She swung it onto her shoulder and started toward the fire escape. As Angel turned to Buffy and started helping her into the harness, she clambered over the parapet and onto the ladder, heading for the ground and the van where Wesley and Giles were waiting.

Charles looked up alertly from his meditations as he sensed something change in his surroundings. The supreme, almost hyper-awareness that he had developed with his powers in regards to the people around him applied equally as well to other types of changes. It took him barely a moment to process the sensation before he closed his eyes and focused his powers.

He sent out a mental probe and tested his surroundings, and realized almost immediately that the strange barrier that had been blocking his telepathy was gone as if it had never been there at all.

However tempting it as to call out to Elizabeth, however, he held himself in check. It could be a trap of some kind, perhaps a ploy of the Mayor's. He had not learned the proper use of his powers without some risk, but there was a difference between making a calculated risk and diving into a situation without taking the time to test it and make a plan.

If it was a trap, what was the point? The Mayor must already suspect something, given that he had not only repelled Charles' psychic attack, he had actually sensed it. Granted, he had mistaken it for some kind of witchcraft, not telepathy, but that was only more reason why this could be a trap. It could be that the Mayor was trying to force him into making a rash action that would reveal the limits of Charles' powers to him.

He continued to "watch" the area where the barrier had been, waiting to see if it was only down temporarily and would suddenly snap back into place when he didn't do anything about the changed situation. But nothing happened after several moments. Either the Mayor was incredibly patient and was willing to wait as long as it took Charles to take advantage of the "gift" or it wasn't a trap at all and something else had forced the barrier to fall.

But what could it have been? It was true that barriers and shields were always easier to break from the outside than the inside, but given the strength of that particular one, he couldn't think of anyone who would have the knowledge or the skill to do so. Jean's powers were still growing, and although he had no doubt that she would one day be able to do something of this sort, dismantling a barrier of this type required skills he hadn't taught her yet. The same went for Elizabeth. And since it wasn't a physical barrier, none of his other students had any power that could affect it.

Finally, he decided to take a chance. He mentally braced himself and sent out another probe, seeking his daughter's mental signature. The fledgling bond that they had would make it easier to find her than even finding one of his students – and he knew their mental signatures much more intimately than he knew his daughter's.

To his surprise, his probe had barely left before it found her. She was almost right on top of him – literally! She was on the roof of City Hall…but what was she doing there?

Elizabeth?

Elizabeth?

The mental voice flashed through her consciousness as Buffy hung from the harness they'd brought, with Angel slowly lowering her towards the box via a pulley system. She started, stiffing abruptly, causing her to swing back and forth for a moment. She caught Angel by surprise and the rope suddenly slipped, dropping her several inches towards the box before he caught the rope and held it fast while she stopped swinging.

"Buffy?" the vampire called down. "What happened?"

Buffy shook her head slightly. At first she thought it was a trick, but she slowly lowered her mental shields a tiny bit and called back to the voice. Dad?

Elizabeth, what are you doing here? Her father's "voice" was calm, but tinged with surprise and curiosity.

Um…honestly, Dad, you really don't want to know.

She didn't expect that answer to satisfy him, and she was right. A moment later, she blinked as he father appeared in front of her – or rather, an image of her father, since it was eerily transparent and floating in mid-air. For a wild moment, she thought it was a ghost, until she realized that the faint feeling of her father – through their bond? – was still telling her that he was alive and well.

He took in the sight of her hanging from a harness suspended in mid-air over the conference table, and the box below her. What are you doing? he asked, and this time his voice was stern and demanding an answer.

"Buffy?" Angel called, softly, again. "What is going on? Are you all right?"

"Nothing, Angel," she called back. "Keep going! I'm almost there." As Angel started to lower her again she turned her attention back to her father. Are you all right, Dad? I've been worried.

I'm fine, but you haven't answered my question.

Crap…Buffy thought. How am I going to explain this? She looked back at the image? – of her father. Dad…please…I'll try to explain later. But where are you? Why haven't you done this before?

I'm here in City Hall. I'm locked in a storage room on the top floor, Charles told her, throttling back his impatience at her refusal to answer his question. Whatever she was up to, she would be explaining it later. The Mayor had one of his men bring me here last night. He had some genetic project he wanted me to help him with, and he threatened to get one of my friends involved if I didn't help him.

He could feel his daughter's suppressed fury at his answer. Although she kept her face expressionless, he could see her green eyes blaze for a moment. The Mayor? Why that…that…evil, manipulative, son of a –

Elizabeth! Charles snapped at her.

I can't, Dad, she told him, although her mental voice didn't sound sorry at all. He watched as she suddenly looked up and called softly towards the ceiling. "Okay, Angel, stop! Get ready to pull me back!"

Elizabeth…he started to say as she leaned her weight forward, flipping over in the harness so that her head was pointed towards the floor. Her hands were inches away from the box that Faith had brought the Mayor the previous night.

Whoops, um…sorry Dad, she told him. No time right now. Hang tight though…I'll get you out tonight.

Elizabeth…what…he tried again, but too late. All he could do was watch as she hesitated for a moment, before she reached down and grasped the handles on the sides of the box. She paused for a moment, her eyes closed as if expecting something.

Nothing happened.

Breathing out slowly, she lifted the box a few inches off the table. "Got it!"

BRRRRRRINNNNNG!

If she'd been on her feet, she might have jumped at the sound, even though she'd been more than half expecting it. Instead, she twisted her head to look up at Angel when she continued to hang in mid-air above the table. "Oh…Angel?!"

"It's jammed!" he called back.

From out in the hallway, she could hear the sound of running footsteps coming closer. She glanced up at the vampire on the roof again. "Like very much to come up now please!"

Elizabeth!

"Not now, Dad, sorry!" Buffy called to his image, hoping that he could still hear her. She looked back towards the door as she heard keys in the lock. "Angel!"

"I know!" he called back, still struggling with the rope.

The doors opened suddenly, revealing two vampires, who both paused at the sight of her hanging there holding the Mayor's precious box. She smiled at them. "Don't suppose you wanna help me get down?"

The vampires snarled at her, their evilly twisted faces looking eager at the thought of killing the helpless Slayer. She sighed. "Didn't think so."

Charles could only watch helplessly through the eyes of his astral projection as his daughter hung in the air, staring at the Mayor's men – both of whom seemed to be oddly deformed. Their faces were twisted in what he would almost have called a demonic way.

They started to lunge towards her when Angel suddenly dropped down onto the table, feet first. He snatched the box that Elizabeth was holding and held it up like a shield as one of the Mayor's men threw a punch, hitting the box instead of Angel. Immediately after that, Angel kicked out with his foot and caught the second man in the head, knocking him back.

Simultaneously, Elizabeth arched her back and flipped herself upright, managing to kick the first man away from her as she came to land on her feet in a move that Charles suspected Logan would envy. With her feet under her, she unstrapped herself from the harness, reached up and grabbed the harness, and when the man lunged for her again, she picked her feet up so that he went sliding underneath her. She dropped her feet, stomping on his back, and from there jumped to the floor. Her assailant straightened and turned, throwing his momentum into a punch that she ducked easily, before she laid one of her own across his jaw, grabbed him by the shoulders, and flung him away from her.

Meanwhile, Angel had used the Mayor's box as a weapon, smashing it into the second man's face, and then dropping it on his foot before he punched the man squarely in the jaw and sent him flying off the table at the same time Elizabeth had flung her opponent. Angel's attacker jumped to his feet, picked up one of the leather upholstered chairs and tossed it at Angel before lunging for the box.

Angel caught the chair, and brought it smashing down on the man's back, knocking him away from the box long enough for him to slide it down the table to Elizabeth. Then he rolled over the table on his back and kicked his attacker in the face again.

Charles watched it all with astonishment. The men that his daughter and her boyfriend were fighting were taking every blow that the two of them could dish out and coming back for more. But he didn't fail to note that there was a synchronicity in the moves that Elizabeth and Angel were using. Without a word exchanged between them, they seemed to know exactly where the other person was. He'd heard Logan speaking to the students about that many times – about being aware of who and what was around at all times during a fight – but none of the students had ever managed to do it without some form of communication, whether it was verbal or using Jean as a telepathic relay.

Elizabeth had taken the opportunity to kick her attacker back again, and then she turned towards the table and grabbed the box. She dodged away from her attacker, who had recovered from being slammed into the wall twice and backed towards the doors of the room. When he lunged at her again, she allowed him to grab the box. With his hands full and unable to defend himself, she kicked him in the knee, hit him twice across the face, and then kicked him in the stomach again. He dropped to his knees and she kicked him across the face again, making him release the box, which she grabbed and tossed, without looking, across the room to Angel.

He was so aware of her that even as she was beating up on her opponent, he had punched his enemy twice in the face, picked him up and flipped him over the table, and then when the man jumped on top of the table, grabbed his ankles and flipped him onto the floor before he reached up and caught the box when Elizabeth tossed it to him. He tucked it somewhat awkwardly under his arm and waited as Elizabeth picked up a vase full of flowers from a nearby sideboard, and tossed it at the Mayor's men, shattering it over their heads. She ran around to join her boyfriend and without saying anything, they each grabbed the heavy conference table and picked it up, flipping it over and pinning the Mayor's men beneath its weight. Then, taking advantage of the situation, they raced for the door, Angel carrying the box.

Dad! Where are you? Elizabeth called out to him. How far from the conference room are you?

I'm not sure, Elizabeth! There's a guard outside the room, and I'm locked in! he called back to her, hurriedly withdrawing his astral projection back into his mind. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. It was one thing for his daughter to claim to be a black belt and able to take care of herself, but it was quite another thing to see her beating up on a man who was almost twice her size.

It was something that he had never expected to see.

"Angel, do you see any guards up ahead?" Buffy called. "My dad is here! The Mayor's got him! We've gotta get him!"

"Buffy, there's no time! Giles and Wesley would have heard the alarm. We have to get out of here!" Angel called back over his shoulder. "Is your dad hurt?"

"No, he says not…but we can't leave him here!"

"We're going to have to!" Angel called. "We know he's here now, we'll come back for him, but we have to get the box to safety first!"

"I…" she started to argue, but they blundered around a corner just then, trying to get to the main stairs, and almost ran right into another vampire. Angel threw the box up to protect himself as the surprised vampire recovered quickly enough to throw a punch.

Buffy ducked around Angel and grabbed the vamp, picking him up and tossing him over her shoulder and down the hall where he crashed into a chair and a potted plant, bringing both down on top of him and causing a traffic jam as their pursuers tripped over him and went down in a heap.

She whirled to face the door that the vampire had been standing in front of as the faint sense that she had of her father suddenly started tingling like crazy. "Angel, he's in here! Can you hold them off for a few seconds?"

"Hurry, Buffy!"

Setting herself, she pulled her leg back and drove a powerful sidekick into the door, right above the lock, splintering it and causing the door to fly open. Her father was sitting in a wheelchair at the far side of the room, in front of a poor excuse for a cot.

"Elizabeth!" her father cried, shock and surprise coloring his voice. "What're you…?"

She raced into the room, started to reach for the wheelchair, but realized they'd never get away in time if she pushed him out of the building. She had no choice…she had to reveal her secret – part of it at least. Reaching down, she slid one hand beneath his legs and another around his shoulders, scooping him up into her arms with ease. Pivoting sharply, she raced for the door again, her father cradled in her arms.

Angel was blocking the other three vampires from coming after them, and as she ran out of the room, he kicked one back into the other two, making them stumble again. Turning on his heel, he ran after her as she reached the stairs.

Charles couldn't believe it when his daughter apparently kicked the door of the room where he was being held open. The door actually splintered as if it was made of balsa wood instead of oak. She raced into the room, paused barely long enough to look at him, before she picked him up and raced out of the room as if he weighed nothing. She was trying to be careful, but she was moving quickly and another flash of pain came from her unintentional rough handling.

Burdened as she was, she shouldn't have been able to move as fast as she was as they raced through the hallway with Angel on her heels – she shouldn't have been able to carry him in the first place, since he was not a small man! But she wasn't even panting or out of breath from the fight or the race, and it made him wonder – in the few seconds that he had to process what was going on – if his suspicion about her having enhanced strength as a mutant power had been right after all.

When she tore down the marble stairs, barely even looking where she put her feet, he had to close his eyes, expecting that at any second she was going to slip and they were going to go flying down the stairs head over heels. But she kept her balance and darted toward the front doors as they reached the ground floor several flights later.

Angel put on a burst of speed and got in front of them long enough to shove on the bar that would open the door so that Charles wouldn't take the impact of running into it. They paused at the top of the few stairs that led into the building before they turned as one and darted into the shadows at the side of the building. Angel flipped over the low retaining wall head first, hit the ground on his shoulders, and rolled back to his feet, crouching down immediately as Elizabeth leapt over the wall, still holding Charles close to her, and landed lightly on her feet. She also crouched down, lowering him to the ground, and before he could say or do anything, she clapped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

The sound of the doors opening behind them was almost covered by the sound of tires squealing on asphalt. Charles couldn't see what was going on, but the footsteps that had been chasing them ran off in the opposite direction, going the same way as the speeding car. There were two heartbeats of silence before Elizabeth indicated that he should stay quiet and she and Angel rose slowly to their feet.

"They're gone," Angel said in a whisper after a moment. "Giles and Wesley will lose them across town before they head back to the library."

"Let's go," Elizabeth said quietly. "Xander and Oz are waiting for us." She looked down at her father and knelt down to pick him up again.

Before she could, Charles fixed her with a look that he knew had to be a combination of everything he was feeling at the moment. Chief among them were surprise, confusion, suspicion, desperation, and probably a hint of anger. She paused for a moment as she took in the look.

"Elizabeth, what is going on?" he demanded, his tone somewhat harsh and desperate. "I've been kidnapped, forced to work on some genetic project for a man who is clearly delusional, seen my daughter break into City Hall and steal something that belongs to the Mayor, watched you beat up two men, been rescued, and then seen my life flash before my eyes as we raced through that building! For the last time…what is going on?"

She looked at him, then at Angel, and then back at him. "Um…would you believe a really violent game of capture the flag?"

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Latin translation (from the show, not mine!)
Sis modo dissolutum exposco, validum scutum! Diutius nec defende a manibus arcam, intende!" - Be now dissolved, I demand, o powerful shield; no longer defend the box from our hands. Hear us!