Author's Note: Hello everyone! I'm sorry for the tiny delay on this chapter...it just didn't want to stop! So it's definitely a bit longer than usual, and I hope that makes up for the wait! I should have the next chapter out soon, but with school winding down, things are becoming somewhat chaotic. I will do my very best to get it to you ASAP!

Chapter Thirty-Five: Attempted Deflections

"Truth is stranger than fiction because fiction has to make sense."

- Liralin Li

Downtown Sunnydale…earlier…

"All right, 'Ro. You're gonna have to lead from here," Logan said. "You've been here before, so where do we go?"

Instead of answering him, Storm turned to Jean. "Jean, can you contact the Professor now?" The teen had been attempting to reach the Professor via her telepathic powers for over an hour, with no luck. Now that they were in Sunnydale, and more within Jean's range, it was time to make another attempt.

"I'll try," Jean replied quietly, closing her eyes. Her hands drifted up to her temples in an unconscious gesture as she focused her powers, concentrating on trying to reach the Professor. Professor? Can you hear me? It's Jean. She paused for a moment, waiting for a response. Professor? Please, if you can hear me, answer me!

For several minutes she continued to call out to her mentor, with no luck. When that tactic failed, she switched to a mental probe, using a technique the Professor had taught her to make a wide sweep of the town as much as she could. It was a skill she was still learning, and it was easier in Bayville, where she was familiar with the town. As her probe swept through the town, she carefully and lightly touched the mind of each person she encountered, absorbing their mental pattern and comparing it to the mental pattern that she had of the Professor.

Normally, when she was more confident as to where she could find him – for example, if she knew he was at the mansion – she could simply shoot a probe at him and locate his mental pattern with relative ease. But this was an area that she was unfamiliar with, and since she had no idea where the Professor might be, she had to take the time to do a more detailed search.

Unfortunately, she had no more luck with the probe than with calling out to the Professor. Opening her eyes, she shook her head at Logan and Storm's expectant looks. "He's not answering, and I tried a mental probe too. I was thinking that he might have been in a position where he can't answer – that he might be unconscious – but a probe would still tell me where to find him."

"And the probe didn't give you anything?" Logan asked.

Jean shook her head. "No. Either he's being blocked by something like you suspected, or he's not in Sunnydale anymore." Or he's dead…but she wasn't going to say that out loud.

She suspected that Storm and Logan had come to the same realization, but like her, they weren't going to say anything to the others. No one would want to admit that the Professor might be dead. The idea was too horrible to contemplate – what would they do without him?

"All right," Storm said. "I know where the Professor's daughter lives…we'll start there, with Elizabeth and Mrs. Summers. They might be able to tell us more than she did on the phone."

"Let's go," Logan said.

Outside City Hall…present time…

"Capture the flag?" Charles said, incredulously. "Elizabeth, you don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

Angel interrupted before Buffy could respond. "We don't have time to discuss this here. Professor, can you hold your questions until we get back to the high school?"

Charles desperately wanted to know what was going on, but he saw the wisdom in what Angel was asking, and – reluctantly – he nodded in agreement.

Angel looked around again. "Okay, let's go."

Buffy bent down, not thinking about what she was doing, and once again scooped her father up into her arms, cradling his weight easily before she started to follow Angel.

It took all of Charles' control not to comment on his daughter's casual display of strength. Logically, there was no way that she should be able to carry him, but she was doing so as if he weighed no more than a couple of grocery bags. He had noticed it two nights ago when she had pulled his wheelchair up the stairs as if it was nothing, but had dismissed it as knowing how to use the proper leverage, and the added strength that she had to have from being a cheerleader and a black belt.

It seemed that assumption had been drastically wrong.

The three of them were silent all the way back to the high school, which, by Charles' estimate was at least two miles, if not more. And Elizabeth carried him easily the entire way, without showing any kind of strain or breathlessness when they finally reached the campus. Angel continued to lead the way as they walked around the building to a door that had a sign next to it reading "Library".

"What are we doing?" Charles finally said. "Won't the school be locked?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Nope. Giles was going to meet us here, so he'll have the door open for us."

Angel reached forward and pulled on the handle, and true to her word, the door opened easily. He stepped aside and held the door open so that Buffy could get through with her burden, before he slipped inside behind her and allowed the door to close.

The hallway lights were off, but the two of them moved unerringly through the passages, ignoring the various classroom doors that lined the halls. They rounded several corners until they reached the double doors leading into the library. Once again, Angel pulled open the door and held it for Buffy so that she could carry her father inside.

Charles looked around the library as they entered. Mr. Giles was standing next to the checkout counter, looking at a book. The younger man that he had seen the day he'd come to the school looking for Elizabeth was standing near the table, as were two boys about Elizabeth's age. One had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and the other had sandy brown hair and fingernails that had been painted black.

In the middle of the floor was a pedestal made of iron, with a large ceramic pot resting on it, and on the table next to the two boys were various herbs and plants. Inside the pot, something was burning, since a thin trail of smoke edged up from beneath the rim.

Buffy stopped and studied the others as they looked up. "Where's Willow?"

City Hall…

"Well this is very unfortunate," Mayor Wilkins looked around the destroyed conference room. The vampires who had been guarding the room looked nervous and chagrined at the fact that the Slayer had been able to steal the box – and the prisoner. "I just had this conference room redecorated, for Pete's sake. At taxpayers' expense too!" He looked around the room and picked up a chair that had been turned over in the fight. "And, oh, yeah…" He grabbed the chair and flung it into the corner. "THEY'VE GOT MY BOX!"

"Yeah. They do."

Wilkins turned around at the sound of Faith's voice. The dark Slayer had entered the room with Willow in her arms, her new knife pressed to the other girl's throat. A deeply satisfied look was on Faith's face, while a look of fear and apprehension was on Willow's.

"But lookee what we got."

A slow smile crossed the Mayor's face. "Well, well…this might work out after all." He crossed over to where Faith and Willow were standing. "What were your little friends going to do with my box?"

"I'm not going to tell you anything," Willow said, defiantly, although she couldn't keep her voice from trembling. She had made it off the roof, but before she could make it in sight of the van, Faith had come up from behind her and grabbed her, putting the knife to her throat to keep her from screaming.

She hadn't been this close to Faith since the other girl had gone rogue, and she didn't know what the younger Slayer would do. Faith was apparently willing to hurt others, but Willow had done her best to be Faith's friend, even when it had seemed like Buffy was spending more time with the other Slayer than with her. She had tried to understand that Buffy and Faith were much stronger when they worked together, and she knew that Buffy had never really liked it when she and Xander would patrol with her – she had always been too worried about their safety.

Frankly, she had been jealous of Faith – she'd thought that the other Slayer was stealing her best friend away from her – and no doubt some of that must have been conveyed to the other Slayer, which might have been one reason why it was so easy for her to join the Mayor.

The Mayor shook his head. "You know, if I wanted to, I could have Faith take your head off right here, and she'd do it, wouldn't you, Faith?" His tone was mild and completely calm, as if he was just asking Faith what she thought about the weather.

Faith nodded and pressed the knife a little more deeply against Willow's neck, as if waiting for the order.

"But," the Mayor continued, looking at the two of them. "For the moment, I think we'll wait on that. By now your friends must know that we have you, just like I know they have my box. The ball's in their court, so to speak. I think we'll wait and see what they do." He turned to look at the vampires that were waiting behind him. "Take her back to the Professor's room and lock her in."

The Professor? Could that be Buffy's father? Willow wondered. If so…maybe together the two of them could find a way to escape.

As the vamps moved forward, Wilkins reached out and took the elbow of one of them. When the vampire paused, looking at the Mayor for further instructions, he nodded.

"You are responsible for guarding her. If she escapes…dusting will be the most pleasant thing I do to you. Is that understood?" Wilkins had a calm smile on his face as he waited for a response.

The vampire, already pale, blanched a pure white at the Mayor's words and the calmly sincere tone, which Willow would have found hilarious if she didn't have a knife at her throat. He nodded and moved quickly to Willow's side and took her arm, twisting it behind her back as Faith released her.

"Buffy'll stop you, you know," Willow called back over her shoulder as the vampire marched her out of the conference room.

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that," the Mayor said cheerfully, waving the vampires on before he turned to Faith. "Good job, my dear," he continued. "Once again, you've proven your initiative."

Faith shrugged off the compliment. "What are you gonna do about the Prof? Buffy rescued him – not sure why – but now he can't work on your project."

The Mayor nodded thoughtfully. "I'll put a little call in to Moira MacTaggert – although I suspect that Xavier will contact her first and warn her not to listen to me. At the least, I need to put in the effort of trying to get her here. If I can't get the project finished, my friend will find a way to get it done – and its possible that Xavier's interest will have been pricked enough that he'll try to find a way to continue the research on his own." He shrugged. "Either way, I'll let my friend know and if Xavier does continue the research, he'll find a way to get hold of it."

Sunnydale High Library…

Buffy moved further into the room slowly, still holding Charles, and not even aware of it. The tension in the room – already high while Xander, Oz, Giles, and Wesley waited to see if the theft had been successful – had risen to a boiling point.

"How did you let –" Buffy paused for a moment. Blaming anyone wouldn't help the situation. After a moment she continued. "How did this happen?"

"We thought she stayed with you," Giles replied quietly.

"They must have grabbed her when she hit the ground. Buffy, I'm sorry –" Angel began.

"It's nobody's fault; we just gotta focus and deal. Oz, I swear I won't let them hurt her." Buffy realized that she was still holding her father and without saying anything else, she walked over to where Giles had left his wheelchair and carefully set him back in it. "Dad, are you all right, really?" she asked quietly.

Charles settled back into his chair with a sigh of relief. "I'm fine, Elizabeth," he told her quietly. Elizabeth had been trying to be as careful as possible when she was carrying him, but it had still been painful and at least now any movement he made could be made under his own power and to his own degree of comfort. He still wanted answers, but it was plain that right now Elizabeth's focus was on her friend. He checked his impatience and his need for answers and focused again on the conversation, hoping to at least glean some answers from what his daughter and her friends were discussing.

"It's simple," the dark-haired boy said firmly. "We go back. Full on assault."

"No, Xander. They'll kill her if we do," Mr. Giles protested.

"We're assuming they haven't already," the other man said, which made the boy with the black fingernails clench his hands tightly although he didn't speak.

Elizabeth ran her fingers through her hair. "No. They know what she means to us. She's too valuable, and as long as we've got the box –" she paused and her green eyes lit up. "The box. We trade."

"We can't," the other man spoke again.

Elizabeth shook her head. "It's the best plan; it's the safest way, right?"

"It might well be –" Mr. Giles agreed.

"We call the Mayor, arrange a meeting."

"This box must be destroyed."

"I need a volunteer to hit Wesley," Xander said.

"Giles, you know I'm right about this," Wesley appealed to Mr. Giles.

"Wes, you want to duck and cover at this point?" Elizabeth asked, a frown crossing her face as she balled up her fist.

"Dammit, you listen to me!" Wesley snapped, his voice full of authority. Charles almost interceded at the tone in the younger man's voice – no one talked to his daughter that way. But after a moment, he stopped himself. He still had no clue what this was about, or why his daughter had stolen the box from the Mayor in the first place. No one would welcome his interference.

"This box is the key," Wesley continued. "Thousands of lives depend on our getting rid of it. Now I want to help Willow as much as the rest of you, but we will find another way."

"There is no other way," Elizabeth protested. "If we destroy the box, the Mayor will kill her. If we try to go back for her, they will either kill her, or they will be waiting in such great numbers that even I couldn't fight my way through them."

"You're the one who said take the fight to the Mayor, and you were right. This is the town's best hope of survival," Wesley pointed out.

"All right, let's deal with this rationally –" Giles inserted.

"I can't believe you're taking his side!" Elizabeth turned on Giles.

"Nobody said I was taking his side."

Angel shook his head and took a step forward. "None of this is helping."

"I'm still for the "let's hit Wesley" movement, if anyone cares," Xander put his two cents in.

"Listen to you people!" Wesley yelled, bringing everyone else to silence. "You'd sacrifice thousands of lives – your families, your friends? It can all end right here! We have the means to destroy this box –"

Charles was completely lost, but before anyone could say anything else, the boy whom his daughter had referred to as Oz stood up, calmly walked over to the pedestal and seized the pot. Turning away, he then flung the pot across the room to shatter in the corner, spilling charred leaves and powders across the floor along with the pottery shards.

The violent destruction brought the entire argument to a halt. All eyes turned to the boy who stared at them before he turned, quite decisively, to Buffy, giving her the floor.

"Giles make the call," Buffy ordered. "Mayor McSleaze comes here, with Willow." Giles nodded and moved toward the phone on the counter. Elizabeth turned to Xander, Angel, and Oz. "We'll make the exchange in the lunch room. Go make sure they have a way in."

The three boys nodded and left the room, leaving Wesley standing at the table. He looked at her sternly. "You're making a mistake."

"Maybe," Buffy agreed. "But it's done." She turned her back on Wesley dismissively and moved over to her father.

"Elizabeth…what –" Charles shook his head, completely overwhelmed. He didn't even know the first thing to ask, and his daughter stood there looking calm and confident, if slightly worried.

"Are you all right, Dad?" she asked. "The Mayor didn't hurt you?"

Charles shook his head mutely, as Giles hung up the phone and nodded at Buffy. "One hour," the librarian said.

Buffy nodded and her eyes flickered over to the book cage. Giles nodded in response and moved over to it, beckoning for Wesley to help him. Together they began to pull out a series of clubs and knives.

"I want answers, Elizabeth," Charles finally managed after observing the silent exchange. He didn't know why, but it made him intensely jealous of Mr. Giles. The other man seemed to be nice enough, but still… "And don't tell me capture the flag. Whatever you're involved in, you're talking about it costing lives."

His daughter sighed. "I didn't think you'd go for capture the flag," she admitted ruefully. "All right. All of this –" she waved her hand to indicate the room, the two other men, and implied that her friends were involved, "– is a Take Back the Night group."

"Take Back the Night?" Charles echoed. He'd heard of such groups – civic minded adults, usually, who would watch for anything illegal going on and make anonymous reports to the police – most often involving crimes against women, although it could also include any illegal activity that could help to prevent attacks against women. But…what his daughter was involved in…it didn't feel right. For one, the groups that he'd heard about never used weapons, and for another, they never actively involved themselves in illegal activities such as breaking and entering or burglary, both of which he'd seen his daughter do that night. No matter what some people said, Take Back the Night groups were not vigilantes. "You mean you're trying to stop crime by reporting things that you see to the police?" He shook his head. "Elizabeth, you told me that the police were ineffective."

"Um…we're not a traditional group," Elizabeth attempted. "That box over there…um…the Mayor's been bringing in drugs from Mexico, and um…we didn't want them to get out onto the street." She stammered, which told him she was lying, even without needing to use his powers. It was almost impossible to lie to a telepath – even if he wasn't actively using his powers at the moment to probe her mind.

Charles shook his head, hurt that his daughter felt that she had to lie to him. "Please, don't lie to me, Elizabeth," he pleaded with her. "Just tell me."

"I –" her eyes darted to Giles, then to Wesley, making Charles' eyes narrow in suspicion. The men must have some kind of hold over his daughter – and it was going to stop.

He moved his chair past his daughter, out of the corner where he'd stayed after she'd put him back in his chair, and into the center of the room. "What is going on?" he demanded. "I don't know what the two of you have gotten Elizabeth involved in, but it ends – right now." He glared at both of them, and despite his anger was careful to keep his voice even and calm. Sounding off at them like an outraged parent – even if that was what he was – wouldn't help the situation, and he'd fought too hard for his control to lose it now, even if his daughter was involved.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Xavier, that the information you want cannot be shared," Wesley began.

Charles jumped all over him before he could continue. "I am a telepath, sir. If no one will tell me what I want to know, I will take the information – and I don't have to make it pleasant, or gentle." Ordinarily Charles would never think of making such a threat, but whatever these men had gotten his daughter involved with was serious – and he was going to find out what it was. It was his job to protect her.

Elizabeth looked over at Giles for a long moment before she nodded. "All right, Dad. I'll tell you."

"Buffy, the secrecy –" Wesley began again.

"Shut up, Wesley," Giles snapped suddenly. "Buffy has the right to tell him." He turned to Charles. "Professor, I understand your frustration with the situation, but Buffy was only trying to protect you – and herself."

"Bad things happen when I try to tell adults," Buffy agreed quietly. "When I tried to tell Mom and Hank, they threw me in an asylum and got divorced. Then Mom forgot all about it until last year – and when I told her, she kicked me out of the house." His daughter looked oddly vulnerable, completely at odds with the dominating personality she'd been showing all night. "I didn't know if I could trust you, not just to keep my secret, but not to hurt me. If someone else threw me out, or away – I couldn't take it."

Charles heart ached for what his daughter had apparently gone through. "Just tell me," he pleaded with her. "I don't think there could be anything stranger than what I deal with daily with my students."

"I doubt that," she muttered, but nodded and came to stand in front of him so she could look him in the eye. "Dad, I'm trusting you with my secret." Please don't hurt me.

The emotion in her telepathic plea was so raw and powerful that he knew she hadn't meant to send it to him. She had unconsciously broadcast to him – and given the stress of the night, it wasn't surprising.

She swallowed nervously, and took a deep breath before she spoke. "I'm a Vampire Slayer."

City Hall…

"Check out the bookworm."

Willow looked up with a start from the book that was open in her lap. She had managed to get out of the room where she'd been imprisoned by using magic to stake her guard with a pencil – although it had been completely unintentional – and then, in making her way to the door, been forced to duck into another room to avoid Faith and the Mayor. Unfortunately, the Professor they'd spoken of hadn't been with her, so she hoped that Buffy had managed to get him out.

Faith and the Mayor had been exiting his office, and following a spur of the moment idea, she'd ducked inside once they were gone and snooped around, looking for information about the Ascension. Partly by luck, she'd found a secret cabinet that held the Books of Ascension and had immediately sat down to read them, trying to learn everything that she could.

"Faith!" she exclaimed, watching as the Dark Slayer entered the room with a predator's lope.

"Anybody with brains, anybody who knew what was going to happen to her, would be trying to claw her way out of this place," Faith observed. "But you, you just can't stop Nancy Drewing, can you?"

Reaching out for the book, she slammed it closed, almost catching Willow's hand inside. It was only because Willow had half-expected her to do that very thing that allowed her to pull her hand out of the way in time. There had been too many times when bullies had done that to her at school.

"I guess now you "know too much." And that kinda just naturally leads to killin'," Faith finished, tossing the book aside as Willow scrambled to her feet and backed away a few steps.

"Faith, I want to tell you something," Willow started.

"Oh, yeah, please give me the speech again: 'Faith, we're still your friends, we can help you, it's not too late'."

"It's way too late," Willow corrected her, which actually stopped Faith in her tracks, not having expected that response. "It didn't have to be this way, but you made your choice. I know you've had a tough life. I know some people think you've had a lot of bad breaks, and that you've hardened your heart to protect yourself from the pain."

Faith's face actually softened as she listened to Willow. There was real pain in her dark eyes, which told Willow that she was right about that much at least.

"Well, boo-hoo. Poor you," Willow attacked suddenly. "You had a lot more in your life than some people. You had friends like Buffy. Now you've got no one. And you were a slayer! One of the Chosen. Now you're nothing. Just a selfish, worthless, waste."

There was a beat as Faith absorbed that. The next thing Willow knew, Faith's fist had impacted her face. She blinked, dazed, as she stumbled, holding her throbbing nose, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You try to hurt me, I try to hurt you. I'm just a little more efficient."

"And here I thought you just didn't have a comeback," Willow retorted through the tears that thickened her voice.

"You're begging for some deep pain," Faith hissed, moving closer.

"I'm not afraid of you," Willow snapped, standing up straight and holding her ground as Faith moved closer. She wanted to rethink that statement when Faith suddenly pulled out her knife.

"Let's see what we can do about that."

Downtown Sunnydale…same time…

"How much farther, Storm?" Scott asked as they walked down the almost deserted streets. He didn't like this – it was too quiet.

Storm paused and looked around, matching up landmarks with what she remembered from her trip out here two weeks ago. "Three more blocks, and then we turn…left, onto Revello Drive, and then we have four more blocks." She looked around again, and then waved them on.

Scott sighed. He wished they knew more about what was going on. Why wouldn't the Professor's daughter have wanted them to come out to find him? Was she involved somehow? Or did she know who was?

And there was something about this town…he couldn't put a finger on what was making him so uneasy. On the surface, Sunnydale appeared to be just like Bayville – a small, quiet town. But it was Saturday night and it was too quiet. Even though it was late, it was still only ten-thirty or so. Teens and young adults should be out on dates, people should have been driving to the movies, or on their way to clubs…police should be patrolling…

Instead, the streets were almost deserted. Scott's group was the only actual group he'd seen since they arrived. He'd seen a few individuals walking, but they hadn't stopped to talk, and they'd been hurrying on as if there was some reason that they shouldn't be on the street. The quiet was eerie and uncomfortable.

Logan sniffed the air. "I don't like this. Something's wrong with this place. It's too quiet."

Scott glanced around. If Logan was sensing it too... "Do you think it has something to do with what happened to the Professor?"

"Something to make the whole town go quiet?" Logan shook his head. "It would have to be –" he paused and held up his hand, signaling the team to stop. He sniffed again, his whole body alert and wary.

"Logan?" Storm whispered. "What is it?"

Another sniff. "The Prof. I've got his scent."

The X-Men let out a collective sigh of relief. Waiting for Logan to lead the way. After a moment, the half-feral mutant continued to lead them down the main road.

"Chuck wasn't alone," Logan continued after a moment. "There was a female with him. Similar base scent…has to be his daughter. And a man – not the Prof…but there's something odd about it – it's almost a dead smell."

Scott exchanged puzzled looks with the rest of the team. Why would a man have a dead smell clinging to him? It was yet another mystery that they would have to try and solve.

"Logan, can you tell if the Professor was hurt?" Storm asked.

"No, he's not hurt," Wolverine said immediately. "But he had some major adrenaline going for him – and these scents are recent – less than an hour old."

"Lead the way," Scott spoke for the rest of the team.

Sunnydale High Library…

"I'm a Vampire Slayer."

The words – which made no sense – kept repeating in Charles' head after his daughter spoke them. All he could do was stare at her wordlessly and wonder if she had really said them.

For her part, Buffy watched him closely, her hands absently clenching and unclenching in a nervous gesture. She wondered what he would say. Would he react like Hank and Joyce and try to throw her into an asylum again, or just dismiss her and want no part of her life?

Charles blinked as he heard his daughter's worries in his head. Because of her nerves and fear, she was unconsciously broadcasting her thoughts, and she was doing so loudly enough that he was able to pick up on them through his shields. The raw, powerful emotion that he felt behind the sending was enough to shake him out of his shock.

Turning on the other two men, he didn't hesitate to give them a piece of his mind. "I don't know what this is all about or how you roped Elizabeth into believing it, but it has to stop!" You've got her convinced that government authorities can't be trusted, she's stealing, and who knows what else! I –"

"Dad, stop!" Elizabeth stepped back in front of him, shielding Giles and Wesley from his wrath. "This isn't Giles or Wesley's fault. It was going on for over a year before I met them."

Charles turned to her and took in the serious look on her face. "Elizabeth, what is going on?" He had a feeling that this was going to become his most common question when dealing with his daughter, but he had to know.

Buffy sighed. She really hadn't wanted to tell him all of this, but she was committed now. She wasn't going to tell him everything of course – he didn't need to know about Angel being a vampire, or about her death at the Master's hands, or about the expected lifespan of a Slayer.

But maybe… "Giles, can you - ?"

Giles nodded and stepped over to her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of affection. "Of course, dear girl." After a moment, he looked over at Charles. "It is quite simple, Professor. For thousands of years, since the beginning of time, demons and vampires have walked the earth. As the race of men began to come into our own, the number of demons and vampires were too great a threat and there were too many of them to hope to combat. So the higher Powers chose a young girl and gave her the strength and skill she would need to fight back. Into every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampire, the demons, and the forces of darkness – to hunt them down and stop the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer."

Charles only stared at him wordlessly. He couldn't make a coherent thought come out of his mouth. First magic and witchcraft, now vampires and demons? Has this entire town gone mad? he wondered.

"Dad I know it's hard to believe," Buffy said quietly. "It was hard for me to believe too. If I'd had a choice, I wouldn't have told you about this at all – or I'd have tried to break it to you slowly – but the Mayor forced my hand."

"Elizabeth – I –" was all he could manage. How could she be so calm about this?

"Look, Dad," she continued. "I'll tell you everything I can as soon as I can." She knelt down in front of him to put them at eye level. "But you must know by now that the Mayor is seriously evil – and I can't leave Willow with him and Faith. Let me deal with this, and then you and Giles and I will sit down and talk. I promise."

Charles looked closely at her – saw the maturity, the leadership, and the sincerity in her eyes. Also the fear – for her friend? Or for what he would do after she told him the rest of her secret? He still didn't understand, didn't know if he could accept it – his scientific education and reluctance to believe in the mystical and mythical was warring with his desire to convince her that she could trust him. But that trust he wanted to build with her – maybe it could begin by first giving his trust to her.

"All right, Elizabeth. I'll wait – but I do want that explanation."

She nodded. "You'll get it," she promised again as her friends re-entered the room. "Dad, will you please stay here while we do this? I don't know what the Mayor wanted with you, but I can't protect you and Willow at the same time if something goes wrong."

It went against his instincts – both as a teacher and as a father – to think that his child needed to protect him. After a moment, however, he nodded. "All right." Of course, he would stay in the library – physically. His astral form, however, would allow him to view everything, and perhaps he could start to put some more pieces of the puzzle that was his daughter together.

"Buffy," Angel said quietly. "We need to get into position before the Mayor gets here. I don't trust him not to show up early, and if we're not there…" The tall, dark-haired young man walked over to the table and picked up the ornate box.

"Right," Buffy agreed. "Load up, guys, and let's move out."

All five men moved over to the arrangement of weapons that Giles and Wesley had laid out. They all selected some weapons and headed towards the doors. Charles watched them go, hating that fact that he was confined to the sidelines. But Elizabeth was right. In a physical fight, he'd be the next thing to helpless. But t wasn't easy to stand aside and watch her go off into danger – even though they'd only known each other for a few days.

"Be safe, Elizabeth," he said softly, mostly to himself. To his surprise, she turned and offered him a reassuring smile from where she was about to exit the library.

"Always am."

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