Author's Note: Once again, I can only apologise for the long gap between uploads. The busy nature of life and the cyclical nature of creativity both worked against me on this one. Rest assured, I have no intention of abandoning 'One Girl in all the World', at least until its done. I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to leave a review, as always.


Chapter 8: Waiting in the Wings

In a basement below an ordinary, middle-class home in Sunnydale, three young men were in way over their heads. They were huddled together in a corner, casting furtive glances behind their turned backs to the intimidating figure that had invaded their isolated sanctuary. Across the room from them, the patience of a particular violent Mm'fashnik demon was wearing dangerously thin.

"Are we really gonna kill her?" Jonathan asked. "That's so sad!"

Warren narrowed his eyes scornfully. "Shut up, Whine-athan."

Andrew shifted nervously. "But ... I, I don't want to kill Buffy either."

"Yeah," Jonathan emphatically agreed. "She saved my life a bunch of times! Plus… she's hot."

Andrew firmly nodded his agreement.

Warren remained unmoved. "It's her or us. I mean, we have to do it. "

"We're talking about murder," Andrew pointed out squeamishly.

"No," Warren dismissed callously. "We're talking about staying alive, and since this is my mom's house, I think what I say goes."

The cloak of authority in which Warren had enveloped himself seemed to fall to the floor as he finished that particular sentence.

"But aside from the moral issues, and the mess, we can get in trouble for murder" Andrew insisted, a childlike fear in his naive blue eyes.

"Duh!" Warren scoffed. "You know, the last I checked, the authorities also frowned on bank robbery too. Genius!"

"I don't even know if we could kill Buffy," Jonathan weighed in again. "She's got super-strength. "

Andrew nodded emphatically. "And, you know, killing people… this is not why we got together in the first place."

Jonathan agreed. "Yeah. We teamed up with one clear, super-cool mission statement. Remember?

All three young men stared into space for a moment, almost as if they were re-living a seminal moment in their lives.

"Of course I remember," Warren insisted, snapping them all back to reality. "It was last month."

"Then you know we have a mission!" Jonathan exclaimed, pointing at a whiteboard against the wall in front of them, before beginning to read the agenda aloud. "Shrink rays... trained gorillas. Workable prototype jetpacks... and chicks, chicks, chicks. I know that's the action I signed on for."

"Me too." Andrew added. "Ixnay on the urdermay."

Frustrated, Warren gave in. "Vote!"

"Okay," Jonathan began. "Who's for not killing Buffy?

Andrew and Jonathan immediately thrust their arms into the air, parting their fingers in a Vulcan salute. Eventually, reluctantly, Warren raised his own.

"Agreed." All three called out in unison.

"So what are we gonna do about this Mm'Fashnik guy?"

A glimmer of cunning came into Warren's dark eyes. "Ah, wait here. Okay, I got an idea."

The two underlings watched in utter disbelief as their leader fearlessly rushed up to the Demon, put an arm around its enormous scaled shoulders, and whispered something in its ear. The next thing they knew, the Demon seemed to grunt in agreement, before vanishing towards the exit stairs – which creaked burdensomely as he ascended into the late afternoon.

Andrew and Jonathan merely continued to stare at Warren in breathless amazement as he swaggered over to them once again.

Jonathan struggled to find his voice. "How'd you make him do that?"

"What are you, some kind of... Jedi?" Andrew asked foolishly.

Warren eagerly lapped up the sycophantic awe in their faces. "The Force can sometimes have great power on the weak-minded…"

"Huh…" Andrew murmured thoughtfully, staring off into the distance – or rather as it turned out, staring blankly at an unoffending garden rake hanging off the basement wall about five metres hence.

Jonathan seemed to find equal solace in the air conditioning unit.


Dawn strode back into the Summers' residence in a state of triumph.

She had done it – amidst a Scooby gang which had been researching demons for years, she had been the one to identify the mysterious Mm'fashnik demon. Well, a lot less mysterious now she knew what it was. The Mm'fashnik - not the Muh'fashnik thank you Xander – as it happens was little more than a demon for hire, causing chaos, murder and mayhem for a quick buck. Figures.

She wasn't exactly hoping that the appearance of this enormous humanoid reptile was hearkening an oncoming apocalypse – okay, maybe a little – but only so she could show the gang that she could play her part - a part just as important or special as any one of them.

Willow closed the door behind them, whilst Tara headed for the kitchen, doubtless to start preparing one of her now traditional evening meals. It made Dawn smile to see how much genuine joy Tara seemed to get out of what Dawn had always seen as a tedious chore. Thinking back – perhaps it wasn't so surprising. Dawn had found out first-hand what kind of family Tara had come from, and afterwards it wasn't hard to put together why she was so quiet, why she stuttered, and sometimes seemed to make herself invisible during her first few months with Willow. But now she had a family she chose, and that had chosen and embraced her in return. Tara didn't hide anymore.

At that, maybe Dawn would help make dinner tonight.

She had just turned the corner into the dining room when she heard the cry.

"WILLOW!"

Dawn froze, unable to move for a moment as she began to hear a series of violent crashes, emphasised by the smashing of glass. She screamed as she saw Tara crash against the doorframe in front of her, her head thumping soundly against the wood. Dawn could only watch in horror, unable to move. A massive figure loomed into her line of sight, covered in scaley skin of a dark turquoise. It looked as though it had be stuffed insight its tight leather jacket and pants, seemingly imitating a standard 'tough-guy' image.

"You are NOT the Slayer! Where is she!?" The Mm'fashnik roared, ripping a long knife from the nearest kitchen surface before catching sight of Dawn.

Then Willow was there, grabbing Dawn by the sleeve of her shirt and pulling her away.

"Dawn, get upstairs – now!"

Dawn didn't even think to question it. She ran. There wasn't room for any other thought in her head besides the demanding terror. Dawn didn't even remember climbing the stairs, only realising after she plunged through the door, tripping over her own feet, that the bedroom wasn't her own.

Dawn reached for the bed, gripping a fistful of the covers and trying to wrench herself up, succeeding only in pulling them onto her. She could still hear the demon's battle cries as she finally emerged shaking onto the bed, grabbing the arms of the still, silent figure lying dormant before her.

"Buffy," Dawn sobbed. "Buffy we need you – wake up, please wake up!"

Buffy was silent.

Dawn tried shaking her sister, trying to set off her detectors or whatever it was she had.

Buffy was still.

Hyperventilating with panic, Dawn scrunched her eyes shut, trying to regain control of her breathing – trying to think.

She caught sight of Buffy's power cable lying beside the bed, and something finally clicked in Dawn's head. She fumbled with the bottom of Buffy's top, pulling it over her stomach and feeling for the access switch. The layers of surface skin peeled away, revealing Buffy's power and access ports and… nothing. Just a few blinking lights, tiny screw-holes and other components Dawn couldn't begin to fathom.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs. Each one louder, each one closer.

Dawn exhaled sharply, her head snapping around to the still open door.

Oh God.

No Dawn, A reassuring voice echoed in her mind. You can do this. Focus, remember. How did Willow reactivate her after finishing her repairs – at Spike's, you were right there with her!

Regaining her focus, Dawn reached for Buffy's neck, slipping a trembling hand beneath her golden hair. She ran her fingers around the top of her neck, searching for the mechanism she remembered Willow activating. As a large shadow passed into the hallway, Dawn felt the skin give way beneath her touch.

Buffy's eyes opened.

"Dawn?" She asked curiously, causing Dawn to let out a sob of utter relief. She immediately tried to pull Buffy to her feet, pulling her towards the end of the bed. After a moment of apparent confusion, Buffy allowed her sister to yank her to her feet.

"Buffy, Its Tara, she's…" Dawn started to explain, just as a hulking figure filled the doorway.

"You!" Buffy exclaimed, clearly recognising the creature. Buffy turned back to Dawn for a moment. "Stay behind me."

For a moment, Dawn forgot that it wasn't really her.

"Slayer… Finally!" The demon practically shouted, raising both of its enormous arms before slamming them downwards towards where Buffy was stood. Buffy neatly side-stepped the blow at the last moment, moving to her left and carefully manoeuvring Dawn behind her.

The bed was not so fortunate. The two nearest legs promptly collapsed under the primal force of the Mm'fashnik's blows, the cushions and covers collapsing into a chaotic heap.

In the brief moment the demon was unbalanced from the force of his strike, Buffy aimed a kick towards his scaly neck, knocking him into the wall opposite. The plaster cracked under the force, and dust erupted over its head.

The monster seemed to explode with rage, letting out a primeval shriek and launching at Buffy once again. Dawn had no chance to escape through the door, the two fighters were rapidly exchanging blows that Dawn was sure could shatter any bone in her body if she got too close.

Dawn dropped to the floor, crawling into the small space remaining under the half-collapsed bed. She watched the duel in fragmented moments, catching small snippets whenever she moved her head out slightly from under the bed. After what couldn't have been more than a minute however, the sounds of struggle seemed to move further and further away, and out of the room.

Dawn took her chance.

She pulled herself out from under the bed, shadowing the wall to the doorway. After ensuring the coast was clear, Dawn sprinted into the hallway, passing behind the Mm'fashnik which was still furiously attacking Buffy with blows and slashes in the hallway. She all but threw herself down the stairs, charging headlong into the dining room, where everything had begun.

Beside the corner of the flipped and wrecked dining table, Willow was on her knees, hunched over with her red hair strewn over her face. After a moment, Dawn could see she was bleeding from a wound on her head, continuously trying and failing to grab onto the table and lift her own body from the dining room floor. Tara wasn't moving at all, still slumped against the entrance to the kitchen. Her heart feeling as though it were about to burst through her chest, Dawn ripped the phone from its rest, quickly speed dialling the number she needed.

"Hello?"

"Xander, we need you here – now!" Dawn shouted, desperately wanting him to hurry.

"Dawn?" Xander asked, clearly taken aback by her panic. "Cool it a sec, what's happening?"

"There's no time!" Dawn insisted. "The Mm'fashnik is here! Willow and Tara are…. please just hurry!"

"We'll be right there. Just get somewhere safe, okay Dawnster?!"

Dawn just nodded, too frazzled even to note before she had put the phone down that there was no way Xander could have seen it.

She crossed the room to Tara, bending down and gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Tara? Tara are you okay?"

Tara didn't respond. Dawn placed two fingers on Tara's wrist, whilst watching for her breathing. She was relieved to see her chest slowly rise and fall, and feel a steady pulse beneath Tara's skin. For the first time, Dawn was grateful for the dull first aid course she and her class had been forced to sit through last Spring. Still, considering the force with which Tara had hit her head, Dawn didn't want to risk moving her into the recovery position.

Instead, Dawn moved on to the dining room. Willow's condition hadn't changed, her hand still struggling to grip onto the fallen table. For the first time, Dawn noticed the kitchen knife jutting out of one of the walls, and the red drops of blood on the wooden floor beside Willow, forming small streams as they came together.

Dawn put an arm around the older girl, helping her up onto unsteady feet.

"Can you walk?" Dawn asked her, trying her best to support Willow.

"Tara…" Willow whispered in a pained voice, placing her right hand over a bleeding thigh.

"She's unconscious," Dawn explained. "But she's okay – at least I think so. She's breathing." Dawn hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

"Where… where's the demon?" Willow asked, seemingly trying to regain her focus.

"Upstairs – Buffy's fighting him. Xander's on his way."

"Help me to the kitchen," Willow told her, clearing the hair from her face with her arm. As she did so, Dawn noticed the nasty cuts which had torn her sleeve open.

Dawn did as she asked, as the sounds of breaking wood and cracking plaster filled the house.

"Dawny, there's a first aid kit in the cabinet," Willow explained as Dawn lowered her to the ground beside Tara. "Just above the refrigerator. Can you grab it for me?"

Once again, Dawn complied, lifting the surprisingly heavy black box out of the cupboard and placing it beside Willow.

Willow was already tending to Tara, gently moving her hair from around the area where her head had collided with the doorframe. "Tara, baby – can you hear me?"

"Shouldn't we try to help Buffy somehow?"

Willow looked at Dawn for a moment, shaking her head. "She's doing her job Dawn. It's my fault – I shouldn't have shut her down while that thing was still loose. When Xander gets here – we can get Tara out of the house – we need to get her to a hospital."

"I could call 911?"

Willow shook her head again. "We'd just be putting them in danger."

Unable to just wait there with the battle raging above them, Dawn rushed into the living room through the side-door, stopping only to prise open the chest of weapons behind the nearest armchair. Just then, she heard a cacophonous racket booming from the stairs. Dawn pulled the nearest sword from the box, grabbing the hilt with both hands

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as the Mm'fashnik demon stumbled into the room, seemingly pushing itself to its feet after a fall. Dark, green blood was dripping from its shoulder and cheek, and the snarl it unleashed as it saw Dawn was as much hungry as it was furious.

Dawn held the sword out in front of her, begging herself to be brave. As the creature began to limp towards her with clawed hands outstretched, she raised the sword above her head, letting out an involuntary sob as the monster bore down on her, her death in its eyes.

Then, with a sharp crack, the Mm'fashnik fell to the floor, landing only inches from Dawn's feet. Behind the demon, Buffy was revealed, her favourite patrolling outfit grievously torn, and her hair entirely awry. In her hands was the designer lamp from beside the couch. Dawn dropped the sword, backing away as the dam of stress and fear was released. Buffy grabbed the sword from the ground, quickly raising it and thrusting with a downwards strike into the demon's back. The enormous form twitched for a moment, finally ceasing when Buffy twisted the blade, leaving it protruding from his back like a burial cross.

Dawn ran to her sister, wrapping her arms around her and holding on to her as if for dear life as she finally allowed herself to cry.

Buffy lifted one arm in a single, stiff movement, before carefully moving her hand to hold the back of Dawn's head, holding her sister as she gently wept against Buffy's chest.


"I think we have a lot to feel good about." Warren announced, strutting triumphantly around his newly furnished domain.

Andrew was currently gazing into a periscope which appeared to have come straight from a Soviet submarine, whilst Jonathan was delicately arranging some models of various shapes and sizes in a brand-new display case.

"We got the money," Warren continued, "We got the lair. And our one loose end has been taken care of…" He paused dramatically to lift an enormous, seemingly home-made firearm from the floor, "By the Slayer."

A jet of turbulent flame burst out of the tip, neatly emphasising his point and nearly singeing the carpet. "Flamethrower's up."

"Periscope's working," Andrew announced, turning the metal shaft around, which moved the image on the large television screen behind him. At the same moment, Jonathan respectfully closed the display case.

"It looks like your mom's weeding tulips again," Andrew continued to report.

"Action figures - Fully deployed," Jonathan proclaimed, a sense of badass pride on his face.

"I still can't believe it," Andrew said, leaving the periscope and taking a seat on a luxurious armchair. "We did it! We can do anything. We could stay up all night if we wanna!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa don't get all crazy on us, Andrew." Warren snarked, raising his arms sarcastically.

"I was only saying…" Andrew pouted, somehow oblivious to his friend's dripping sarcasm.

Jonathan's expression was touched with uncertainty. "What are we gonna do about Buffy? You know sooner or later, the Slayer's gotta come after us."

"Bring her on…" Andrew replied brazenly.

"We could, uh, we could hypnotize her," Warren suggested.

"Make her our willing sex bunny…" Andrew added.

At that, all three started to chortle adolescently.

"I'm putting that on the list!" Jonathan informed them, rushing over to the whiteboard and beginning to scrawl the words 'hypnotize Buffy' above every other item on the list.

Andrew looked over to Warren sat beside him, a look of utter contentment on his face.

"Is this the life or what?