A Grey Justice on the Horizon

by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Young Justice/DCAU/Marvel Comics) Ever dress up for Halloween intending to be one thing only to be seen as something else by those that saw you? The Scoobies certainly do because thanks to the chaos spawned by the spell of Ethan Rayne they will become people who are quite different from what they'd intended to be. A difference that will echo throughout the world.

2. A New Chapter Begins

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this fanfic whatsoever and have no intention of changing this within my lifetime. I write fanfic because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if you did not file a lawsuit against me. I can promise you that any money you get from me won't cover even half of your legal fees.

Eight Days Later, Sunnydale High School, Library, Morning, Xander's POV

"So what's the situation, G-Man?" he asked as the Scooby gang assembled in the library to hear the results of the Watcher's research into a counter spell.

"Well, I have completed my research on the spell that Ethan used on Halloween and have determined it to be the Janus variant of the Somnium Appareo spell," Giles replied as he took his glasses off to clean them. "Normally its effects are temporary and fade swiftly after the spell is terminated, so your cases seemed rather odd given that the effects haven't diminished in the least since Halloween. I looked into past instances of the spell being used and determined that the deviation was caused by the influence of the Hellmouth on the spell. Conducting the spell on top of a barely contained dimensional rift most likely destabilized the transformational properties of the spell, resulting in the four of you retaining large portions of your costume personas."

"Leave it to the Hellmouth to put a new spin on an old spell," he grumbled once again cursing the thing that made his town 'interesting'. "Okay, so we know the why and the how, so howsabout you tell us the fascinating tale about how you're going to get the four of us back to normal. I know I'd like being able to get six hours of uninterrupted sleep again each night again."

"I am… afraid that locating a counter spell…may not be possible." Giles placed his glasses back on his face, "When a spell is created by a sorcerer or witch, they invariably create a counter spell so as to undo any mistakes made after its been used. However the counter spell must take into account not only the arcane forces being employed in the original spell but also the way they were used. If even a single element is altered or mutated, as it were, then the original counter spell must be altered accordingly or else it wouldn't work."

"Then make your alterations and cast the darn counter spell, English!" Cordy yelled, not being her usual aloof self. "Ah ain't soundin' like some Mississippi hick a second longer then I haveta."

"It is not that simple, Ms. Chase. It takes a sorcerer of great skill to invent a spell, much less alter an existing one to cope with unforeseen changes," G-Man said, trying to sound understanding but firm. "I am afraid that, while not unfamiliar with magic, I do not possess sufficient skill to even begin attempting to create a counter spell."

"Then find someone who is, Giles," Buffy said in a cool tone that indicated she meant business. "I want Ms Super Spy out of my mind as soon as possible."

"That is why I did not say it was impossible from the beginning," Giles stated calmly but with a look that implied he was surprised at his Slayer's tone. "I have taken the liberty of reaching out to a few sorcerers that I am amicable terms with in the hopes that they can assist us. However I am not certain how long the alterations will take to devise and join together. I will, however, inquire with each of them at least once a day to stay apprised on their progress."

"Why don't you just go to the Council?" he asked with a bit of puzzlement. "Aren't they the Starfleet of the supernatural? The go to people?"

"I would if I thought that they would give it the proper attention," Rupert replied, sounding somewhat bitter with regards to his fellow Watchers. "However they are likely to drag their proverbial heels on the matter given that the changes Buffy has undergone as a result will be viewed as beneficial. As for the rest of you… they will likely see you as collateral damage and of no concern to them."

"WHAT!?" was the general response that everyone save Giles and, mysteriously, Willow.

"Suffice it to say that thirty years ago there was a change of leadership between the modernizer faction and the traditionalists. The former believed in changing with the times and updating the way the Council fought the demonic in terms of weaponry. However an event occurred in the mid-sixties that badly damaged the modernizer's standing amongst the rest of the Council," Giles explained, recalling the event from memory. "The traditionalists pounced on the opportunity to seize power, citing that the deviation from the old ways was responsible for the whole debacle. Sadly enough of the Council agreed with them and so a change of leadership took place with a great many programs started by the modernizers being terminated. One of those programs was created with the intention of aiding those civilians who'd been affected, directly or indirectly, by the supernatural to a degree that warranted such a response."

"But why? A program like that sounds like a good thing," Willow asked with a bit more aloofness than he'd come to expect from her.

"They considered such a program to be a waste of resources and shut it down, along with the weapons research and development department," Giles explained sounding not very fond of that period of history. "That is why I do not believe they would be of any assistance. Travers would likely state that civilians who dare to 'interfere' with the Slayer's duty have only themselves to blame for what happens to them and therefore should be left to fend for themselves."

"Sounds like a bunch of obsolete fools who don't understand that evolution is the way of things," he said angrily as the past year and a half began to make sense. "Those that don't change to match their environment don't survive long."

The others looked at him quite oddly after he spoke but he couldn't understand why since he was fairly sure that the rest of them felt the same.

"I think you just let a bit of Erik out, Xander," Willow said quickly, guessing (or maybe not guessing) what he was thinking. "Everything you just said was in German and it didn't sound very nice."

Cursing himself for letting his anger weaken the barrier he'd put around Magneto's essence in his mind, he took a moment to reinforce it before speaking again.

"I was just saying that they're a bunch of assholes who don't understand that you have to evolve or die. If we would have continued to do things their way, we'd still be living in drafty castles and using chamber pots to go to the bathroom." He knew that what he'd said kind of sounded like something Magneto would say but that didn't make it any less true. It was absurd to stop developing new weapons to deal with demonkind and it was heartless to let people suffer when you have the ability to help.

"Ew! No thank you, sugah," Cordy said with disgust at the idea.

"How can you work for people like that, Giles?" Buffy asked, sounding like she might turn in her letter of resignation sometime soon.

"By believing that the modernizers will regain control and restore those programs," Giles replied with conviction and faith in his tone.

"Whatever the political climate of the Council, is it's clear to me that we won't get any help from them," Willow said with a disapproving tone of voice. "Guess we just have to wait until Giles' sorcerer pals call him. Still, it's not all bad that we have to wait, or have you guys forgotten how I found out what Ford was planning?"

Indeed it had been a bit of good luck that his friend had been as suspicious as he was about Buffy's old friend coming to Sunnydale out of the blue. It had been the one time that her telepathic inquisitiveness had been a good thing and had allowed them to put an end to the idiot's plan and discourage the club patrons from trying something similar in the future. However the difference between her and the rest of them was that she had embraced the changes she'd undergone and apparently had no problems with the Emma Frost baggage in her head. The rest of them had all tasted what sort of people they'd become Halloween night and not one of them could be considered innocent and law abiding. Magneto was a mutant supremacist more often than not and never quite managed to stay on the side of the angels for very long. According to Cordy Rogue had started out as a villain and, while she had managed to successfully redeem herself and become a hero, she still had dozens of mental echoes bouncing around her mind with most of them being from villains. Buffy had described her personae as being a super spy with a license to kill who took missions ranging from espionage to infiltration to assassination. depending on whom she was working for at the time.

All three of them were doing their best to keep their minds and those of their Halloween selves separate. with the desire to be rid of them as soon as possible.

"Maybe for you. Sugah. but ah'd rather not havta deal with voices in mah head for the rest of mah life." Cordy shook her head with a growl, "And sounding like some bayou brat is SO not doing wonders for my reputation."

"I've got enough on my plate with being the Slayer and all that means," Buffy said, making it clear which way she was leaning. "I don't need some killer's baggage on top of that."

"According to Emma's memories, Buffy, Black Widow was no more a killer than any other government agent or solider on this planet," Willow said, taking the opposite position of the now strawberry blonde Slayer. "Are you going to call all of them killers? Are you going to call all those who fought to defeat the Nazis during World War 2 murderers?"

"NO! But they chose to become what they are!" Buffy replied angrily at her friend's questions. "I got both the Slayer and the Black Widow dumped on my head without my permission! I might not be able to do anything about being the Slayer but there's no way in HELL I'm I keeping the Widow in my head if I don't have to!"

"Now see here, both of you! Calm down!" Giles shouted, getting between the two of them. "Willow, while the memories you gained from Ms. Frost might paint the people the others became as being… respectable, that is simply her point of view. Also what one sees from the outside and what exists on the inside are not always the same. It is all a matter of perspective."

As was usually the case, the wisdom of the Watcher served to slice through their preconceptions and restore order.

For the most part, anyway, but then again what could you expect from four teenagers?

"Now, I have said that I will exhaust any and all resources at my disposal to see Ethan's spell reversed and I shall honor my promise," Giles said, looking each of them in eye to convey his resolve. "It will simply take time."

Thinking on the strain he'd been forced to endure since Halloween and the cracks that had formed in the mental lock box he'd put Erik into, he did not know how long he could endure.

"Let's hope that these friends of yours are good at what they do," he said to Giles in a serious tone. "Or else we won't be who we are now this time next year."

Two Weeks Later, The Student Lounge, Noon, Buffy's POV

"'Are you a people person, or do you prefer keeping your own company?' Well, what if I'm a people person who keeps his own company by default?" Xander asked her from the other side of the table they both sat at.

It was on this day that the entire student body was taking a career aptitude test to determine what job they'd be best suited for and which booth they'd report to tomorrow. However that wasn't what was on her mind at the moment and she figured it was safe to say that the same could be said for Cordy and Xander. For the three of them, their sole item of interest for the day was the meeting they were scheduled to have with Giles after school concerning the results of his efforts to locate a counter spell for their conditions. He'd chatted with them briefly before classes but, before he could go into detail, Snyder had come down the hall and threatened them with suspension if they didn't get to class immediately. Reluctantly they'd gone to class but as soon as lunch hour hit they'd gone to the library only to find a note on the table stating that he had one final thing to check and would see them after school. This had caused Cordy to throw a bit of a fit, in which the full Southern drawl came out to be heard by whomever was within earshot but they'd gone their separate ways. She, Willow and Xander had gone to the student lounge to complete their career aptitude tests but, personally, counter spell or no counter spell she pretty much knew what her future held.

Fighting.

Death.

Blood.

Those were the things that were constants in a Slayer's life and she'd likely have to deal with them until the day she died. It almost made her wish that Giles could find a counter spell to her Calling as well but he'd pointed out once before that, if there was some sort of spell or ceremony that could do, the demons would've found it centuries ago.

"So, mark 'none of the above'."

"Well, there are no boxes for 'none of the above'. That would introduce too many variables into their mushroom head, number-crunching little world," Xander said, trying to sound like his usual lovable yet goofy self.

He almost managed to cover up the strain she could pick up in his voice but Slayer hearing told her the truth.

Like her and Cordy, he'd been feeling the strain of keeping their real selves separate from their costume selves but it looked like time was short for all of them. Despite her best efforts, she'd already seen signs of the Black Widow creeping into her day to day life and, even though she tried to forcefully stick to her usual routine, she found herself slipping up with increasing frequency. Whether it was languages or how she moved or even the clothes she wore, the changes were popping up more and more. She'd told her mother that she was just trying to broaden her interests and with Giles' help was learning new languages in case she wanted to go on a trip after graduating high school. Naturally her mother had been completely in favor of this newfound interest in learning and so she had a smokescreen to cover her slip ups.

Hopefully she would not need it for much longer.

As for Xander, he too was having language issues and had started dressing in clothes that weren't as sloppy or as loud as he normally wore. However the most telling change that she'd noticed was that he wasn't cracking jokes or making with the quips as often as he used to, and when he did they looked almost forced, like he was trying to keep up a routine, an act, that he thought everyone expected him to do in order for everything to be considered status quo. The only problem with that was, since it was forced, the quality of the quips and the jocularity of the jokes was definitely substandard. She could also see that, while it wasn't as bad as it had been in the beginning, he still wasn't getting enough sleep at night. Even though he only went out on patrol with her every third day or so and tried going to bed earlier, she still saw dark circles under his eyes and he still occasionally looked like he was going to nod off in class. The only thing that had kept her friend from getting detention had been the fact that either she or Willow would elbow him into alertness before the teacher could notice. She could only imagine the sort of nightmares he must be having thanks to that godforsaken Halloween spell, especially after she'd watched that documentary on TV about World War two Germany in history class.

As for Cordelia, she'd completely lost the battle with how she spoke and had been forced to throw out a flimsy lie about being approached for a TV role and that she was practicing for it. She hadn't heard all of the lie but most of the Cordettes half believed it and, predictably, Harmony had fallen for it completely. This, of course, had lead the airhead blonde to pestering the self-proclaimed queen of Sunnydale High School about maybe getting her a part in the TV show as well.

It brought a smile to her face every time she remembered that scene.

"I'm sensing bitterness," Willow said, sounding a bit more snobbish than she should.

That was another thing she'd noticed but she couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. In the little over three weeks since Halloween, Willow had changed more and more both in how she dressed and how she acted. In the beginning they'd managed to convince her to wear clothes that would make it hard for people to tell that she'd had a major body upgrade. In terms of her friend's face, everything was pretty much the same and the hair could easily be explained away with dye, but an increase in cup size as well as over three inches in height was not. Therefore, between herself and Willow, they'd managed to go with more billowing shirts and pants that through some sort of optical illusion she didn't understand would make her legs look shorter. However as time wore on, Willow became less and less satisfied with hiding the new her and it had shown with bolder outfits that did less and less to hide the changes. People were beginning to notice but, so far, Willows reputation as a nerd and an undesirable was keeping anything dramatic from happening.

"No, it's just these people can't tell from one multiple-choice test what we're gonna be doing for the rest of our lives. It's ridiculous!" Xander declared even though he continued working on the test.

"It's just supposed to take what you like and don't like to give you an idea of what you might like to do when you graduate," Willow said as she calming colored in her choices on the test. "Fortunately for me, I already know what I want to do."

"Oh? And what's that?" she asked even though she had a sneaking suspicion in that regard.

"Stunning inventor to begin with and then, once I have enough money, C.E.O of my own company." Willow replied with a smug smile on her face.

"Getting' a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you, sugah?" Cordelia asked from a nearby table. "Going from small town egghead to big time company girl ain't as easy as it might sound."

"Normally you'd be right but, thanks to Emma, I'll be able to avoid the mistakes most people make and her memories have shown me a couple of shortcuts that'll make things easier." Willow barely 'deigned' to notice Cordy, something else that was new and that infuriated Cordy. "With a little luck, I'll be twice as rich as your family in just four short years."

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about your telepathy when you say shortcuts, would you?" Xander asked with a bit of disapproval in his voice.

"Maybe," Willow replied with an indifferent shrug.

"But you won't have it once Giles casts the counter spell," she pointed out to her friend.

"Who says I want to be there when he casts it?" Willow asked rhetorically as she looked up from her career test. "Just because you guys want to go back to the way you were doesn't mean I do. I like how I am now and I'm not going back."

"But this isn't who you really are!" she said, trying to make her friend see the unnaturalness of what had happened.

"Says who? You?!" Willow asked rhetorically with a bit of an edge. "Just because you want to go back to being Miss Prom Queen, Miss Normal, doesn't mean the rest of us do. For some of us change is a good thing."

This took her aback and left her wondering just how deep Willow had let the Emma Frost within her seep because never had her friend spoken to her like that.

Perhaps that is because I never had the backbone to stand up to you before.

Shocked at the sound of her friend's voice in her head, she turned to Willow and gave her a look that was just a bit shy of angry, though it was more due to the invasion of her mind than the message sent.

Don't give me a reason to send you a message this way and it won't happen again.

Turning back to her test, she found herself wondering if she really was guilty of projecting her own desires onto her friends. She'd never considered it before because, in her mind, she couldn't understand why anyone would trade a perfectly normal life for the bizarre, the freaky and the deadly. Still… she had to admit in a world where superheroes were real and there were so many ways for a normal person to die in a normal manner, it was probably safer to join the abnormal than be your average Joe or Jane America.

Maybe she had some serious thinking to do the next few days.

The Next Day, Late Morning, Willow's POV

"Willow!" exclaimed Xander as he fell into step beside her. "What are you doing here? Fly! Be free, little bird. You defy category!"

Smiling a bit at this display of the pre-Halloween Xander, she wonder what had inspired him to approach her and, for a moment, almost reached out with her telepathy to find out. She managed to restrain herself, though, if only because it'd compromise one of the objectives she'd set for herself if she went into his mind without his permission. She was sure that once she managed to destroy the infernal 'sister' label he'd placed on her and got him to see her as girlfriend material, he'd be perfectly fine with her entering his mind whenever she chose.

She had been patient this long to become what she desired. She could wait a little while longer.

As for Xander's question, he was likely referring to the fact that, unlike other students, her name hadn't been on the list telling people what booth they were assigned to. This had been a bit puzzling so she'd located the member of the faculty in charge of the career fair in order to find out why her name hadn't been included. It had taken some doing but eventually she'd learned that she'd been pre-selected by a private party for an equally private interview. However she hadn't been able to telepathically find out who this private party was, not even where she was supposed to meet with them, so that left her with a bit of a mystery on her hands.

"I'm looking for Buffy."

"Oh, she went with Giles about an hour ago. Some kind of follow up to a vamp she dusted last night," he explained as they continued down the hallway. "Some fang faces were digging around in one of the mausoleums and one got away."

"If she doesn't get back soon, Snyder's really..." she began to say before she sensed the approach of a particularly foul mind.

Turning around, she saw Snyder approaching and internally cringed at the waves of pettiness and anger rolling off of the man. Before Halloween, she'd known he was an angry little man that ran the school like his own personal maximum security prison but, now that she could see into his mind… it left her wanting some psi-bleach pretty badly.

"Principal Snyder! Great career fair, sir! Really! In fact, I'm so inspired by your leadership, I'm thinking principal school," Xander said, trying to sound like he was Snyder's biggest fan when mentally he felt the opposite.

"Where is she?" Snyder asked with an 'I will not be denied' tone of voice.

"Can you be a bit more specific sir? There are a lot of people who could be 'she'," she asked, only barely able to keep the mocking out of her voice.

"Where's Summers and don't feed me that 'I just saw her a minute ago, she's around here somewhere' crap." Snyder replied with increased menace that was just plain sad from a spectator's point of view.

"Haven't a clue but I'm sure she'll be here momentarily," she said as though she hadn't noticed his threatening tone at all. "I think she was helping Mr. Giles with something earlier, so maybe she had a few loose ends to tie up with him."

"We'll see about that," Snyder said before storming off in the direction of the library.

"Why did you tell him that?" Xander asked with a bit of concern. "He's just going to find an empty library and that'll just piss him off even more."

"Then he'll be pissed somewhere else and hopefully he'll find someone else to be pissed at by the time we're back in class," she replied, uncaring if her bit of news caused someone else grief.

The principal was always a mass of anger and vindictiveness so she very much doubted that anything she did would make things any worse than they already were. As far as she was concerned, as long as it was aimed at someone or something other than herself or her friends, she didn't care what the impotent man did.

"Well, love to stay and chat, but I got an appointment with the warden on standard riot procedure," Xander said, looking over at the far corner of the lounge.

"You do know that if you tapped into Erik's knowledge, you could easily be at STAR Labs booth," she said, trying one last time to entice him into letting her divert a bit of Magneto's scientific knowledge into his mind.

"And you could wind up putting me right back where I started with my nightmares. Thanks but no thanks, Wills," he said in a tone that gently implied that the discussion was over with before walking away.

When is he going to realize that while Erik Lensherr might have had his problems and made his mistakes, he wasn't quite as bad most people in that universe thought he was? she thought to herself as she looked about the area for signs of someone looking for her.

She wasn't going to paint Magneto as a saint or anything but, if you took a moment to look at things from his perspective, all of his actions were perfectly understandable. Maybe not condonable in some cases but, when you saw the signs of another round of concentration/extermination camps coming into being a couple of years down the road, how could you expect a person to react any other way.

"Ms. Rosenberg?" asked a female voice from her left.

Turning her head, she spotted a brunette approaching wearing a grey business suit and carrying an expensive looking briefcase at her side. There wasn't any company logo or a name tag, which didn't help her much with the identification side of things, so she waited for more information that she could work with.

"Yes?" she responded, hoping for the woman to provide more information.

"My name is Tess Mercer and I'm here to offer you a job after you graduate from High School." Tess extended a hand for a friendly shake, "Lexcorp's always been on the lookout for young talent that have the potential to rise above others."

"What kind of job?" she asked, wondering if it'd be good enough to put off creating her own company for a while.

"If you come this way, I've managed to acquire an empty classroom where we can talk," Ms. Mercer said, pointing at a door with a 'do not enter' sign on it. "Some of which I have to tell you needs to remain confidential and there are too many ears here."

Interesting, she thought. "Lead the way."

It took only a few minutes for them to enter the room and for the door to be locked, but then the brunette took something out of her pocket and activated it, setting it down on the table that had obviously been put there for this meeting. There was nothing on the outside that hinted at its purpose and, without breaking it open, she wouldn't be able to identify its components.

"It's a jamming device designed to neutralize any bugs or surveillance devices in the room," Tess explained, obviously picking up on her interest. "As I said some of the information I have to give you is confidential, so certain precautions need to be taken."

"Reasonable. So, what sort of job are you offering?" she asked, repeating her earlier question.

"Normally new employees would start at the bottom as part of a team, then move up to being an assistant to one of our more prestigious employees. However our investigation into your academic history, as well as other areas, leads us to believe it might be prudent to give you advanced placement in the company." Ms. Mercer opened the briefcase and began to remove several folders, "Therefore I am authorized to offer you the following position: there is a job opening for a research assistant in the electrical engineering department at our Los Angeles facility. You would be aiding Dr. Silas Stone with his cutting edge cybernetics development. Interested?"

"Tell me more," she said, already imagining the possibilities and how she could turn this to her advantage when she founded her own company.

After all, it'd be quite the feather in her hat to steal away some choice employees of Lexcorp right under Luthor's nose.

Sunnydale High School Library, 3:30pm, Xander's POV

"So what's the word, G-Man? Your sorcerer sources fax… I mean, mail you the counter spell?" he asked, lounging back in his chair waiting for the good news.

He was less sure of that good news when he saw the Watcher perform what he called 'The Giles Maneuver', given that the man only did that when he was significantly disturbed about something.

"I am… afraid… that all of my sorcerer contacts, after researching the matter thoroughly, have concluded that reversing the effects of the spell cast by Ethan Rayne last Halloween is… impossible," Giles said in a manner that made it appear that never had there been a harder thing for him to say. "According to them, chaos magic by its very nature is unpredictable and therefore its reaction to any magic attempting to undo its effects would be equally unpredictable. They theorized it could do anything from cause the lingering remnants of your Halloween selves to take over to leave you both physically as well as mentally a jumble of both your old selves and your current selves."

"What about contacting Janus? You said that was the Roman god that powered the spell right?" he asked fear rising within him as his hope dwindled to a flicker, "Can't we get him to do something?!"

"Xander… appealing to a god or goddess for a favor is not an easy thing to do, especially given how most of them have fallen out of favor with mankind over the last millennia or so. Those few who still have followers are generally untrusting of mortals that have not been raised to worship them from childhood," Giles replied, trying to convey the difficulty of the request. "Then there is the fact that it is unlikely that Janus will be sympathetic to your plight. Given that he powered the spell and he is a god of chaos himself, it is quite likely he is in favor of the changes. Wanker probably finds it all amusing!"

So overwhelmed was he by the news that his hope for a return to his old life had been shattered that he wound up slipping right off his chair and down to the floor. The others reacted in different but no less profound ways that made their opinions easy to comprehend.

For Buffy, it was a reaction of anger most likely because she'd viewed her Black Widow baggage as yet another burden placed on her shoulders that kept her from having a normal life. He'd always known that she had a bit of an obsession regarding getting back her old life and leaving her Calling behind her. She might not have been able to do anything about being the Slayer but she'd obviously held onto the hope that their resident expert on all things weird would be able to get rid of this newest bit of weirdness. Indeed, he figured that all of them had faith that the Brit would figure out a solution because, ever since he'd shown up in Sunnydale, that's what he'd done: They'd find the problem and he'd come up with the way to solve it, even if it took a couple of days of researching through dusty old books to find the solution. To find out in this way with this problem that there was no solution and that they'd be stuck the way they were now forever must've been the last straw.

As evidenced by the fact that the library table was now sporting a rather large hole in it the size of a dainty woman's fist.

Cordy wasn't happy either but she chose to let her displeasure be known with a verbal tirade of biblical proportions and, given that she had both her own vocabulary to work with as well as Rogue's, it was unlikely to end anytime soon. The southern drawl was out in full strength, making it so bad that he doubted someone native to the southern states of America would be able tell she wasn't a local. She'd probably calm down, eventually, but all it'd take to start her up again would be someone commenting on the stripe of white hair she had or her southern gal accent. How long would it be before she got used to her new self and moved on with her life?

He'd put good money on it not happening sooner than five years.

As for Willow, she was probably the calmest out of the four of them but that was only because she had embraced the changes she'd undergone and he couldn't say that he blamed her. Her looks had upgraded her from pretty to hot and had scored quite the payday in the mind department, given that, according to her, the telepathy she'd acquired was of the most potent variety. He'd seen her when she'd come out of the private meeting with some corporate lady, whom he presumed was another career rep like the one he'd met with. She looked like the cat that caught the canary, implying that the meeting had pleased her greatly. Normally he'd be happy for her and wish her the best but he was concerned that the look on her face was another sign of her becoming more like Emma Frost and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. He still had Magneto's memories of the woman locked away and, even now, the box was in reasonable shape but what little had seeped through that involved Frost implied a woman that treated morality like stock options and the law like a set of guidelines that she didn't have to obey if she didn't want to.

He really didn't like the possibility that existed in his mind, wherein Willow pretty much became a chip off the old diamond block.

As for him, the emotion he was feeling the most of at the moment was fear, with anger coming in a very close second. The fear was from what he believed he would happen once his efforts to contain the portion of Magneto he had inside failed, resulting in a merger that would change him forever. His nightmares had shown him what life had been like for Erik Magnus Lensherr, or at least the more memorable parts of it. The man had been through hell and had been willing to bring about hell on Earth in order to make sure history never repeated itself. It wasn't that he was evil per se but that he was a firm believer in the phrase 'the ends justify the means', or maybe that he was willing to go that far to fight his inner demons. In any case, he didn't see himself like that and didn't want to become that because, while he might be willing to go pretty far for the people he cared about, he would never let himself cross certain lines. He refused to become the enemy to beat the enemy.

However it looked like, unless some miracle happened to expel Magneto from his mind once and for all, Xander Harris would cease to exist and in its place would be Xander Lensherr. It was now only a matter of when and where it would transpire.

As anxiety and fear began to rise within him, he knew he needed to get out of the library as soon as he could because the alternative was letting them see him freak out in a way that was beyond the normal. Getting up from his chair, he quickly yet calmly strode towards the large swinging doors of the library, hoping that he'd make it a couple of blocks from the school before his inner turmoil started to show.

"Xander? Where are you going?" Giles asked with genuine concern.

"Out. I need some time alone."

He was somewhat grateful when he didn't hear the pitter patter of someone coming after him since it meant that his friends had enough respect for him to obey his wishes. If they'd followed him, it would've defeated the purpose of his getting some time along to come to grips with the path he seemed doomed to go down. As he left the school itself, the future of losing his sense of self, of becoming someone else, seemed to be getting closer at a speed that was increasing. He tried to think of what he could do to fight it, to somehow beat it, but the options weren't very promising now that magic was taken out of the picture. While he might not have liked the results of Giles' efforts, he did not dispute them and he had no desire to play Russian roulette trying various spells or potions. The science angle wasn't exactly promising for him, either, since if he told any doctor about his condition, they'd likely call him a nutcase before prescribing him some anti-psychotics.

They'd be completely useless, of course, since what he'd be suffering from and what the drugs were meant to manage were completely different.

As he let his gaze pass over Sunnydale, he had to chuckle for a moment as he realized that, while indirect, he'd just become another victim of the Hellmouth. When he'd first learned of it and speculated on the various ways it could claim his life, he'd figured it'd be by vamp or demon, given how numerous Giles had said they were on the Hellmouth. Instead he was going to be killed by a spell cast by someone who just wanted a little entertainment. Oh, sure, his body would live but the mind, the personality, that was Xander Harris would die to be replaced by whomever or whatever was born from the merging of the native personae and the invading one. The question became if he wanted to be around his friends when it happened? Did he want to put them in that sort of potential danger? He had no idea what sort of personae would be born when his efforts to keep Magneto's fragment isolated failed but he doubted that it'd be of the good.

He had a feeling he'd have to make some very difficult choices when that happened.

The Next Day, Sunnydale High School, Library, After Classes, Willow's POV

"I don't need that crap from Halloween to tell me that this guy was a pro, Giles," Buffy said after tossing a golden ring on the newly replaced library table. "Angel seemed pretty freaked by the symbol on it as well."

"I'm afraid he was not overreacting. This ring is worn only by members of the Order of Taraka. It's a society of deadly assassins dating back to King Solomon," Giles said with equal freak out in his voice. "The age of their order is of significant importance since most assassin guilds do not last very long, whether due to rivalry with other organizations or retribution from their victims. To last this long can only mean that their members are quite deadly and are capable of great cunning. In fact, the only other organization active today that can rival them is the mysterious League of Shadows."

"Any idea why these assassins are after me?" Buffy asked, sounding more business-like then she usually would have.

"I don't know, Buffy. I don't know," Giles replied with an exhalation of tension release. "I think the best thing we can do is to find a secure location. Somewhere out of the way you can go until we decide on the best course of action."

"Okay, now you and Angel have both said to head for the hills. Are you saying I can't handle this, that I'm not strong enough to fight these people?" Buffy asked, sounding like a shot had been taken at her pride.

"Yeah. Don't you think you might be underestimating Buffy a little?" she asked, putting in her two cents on the conversation. "With the stuff she got from Black Widow, she could probably hold her own against these Teraka guys."

Indeed, now that the option of having those elements of her mind removed was destroyed, it only made sense for the Slayer to make use of them in her duties. Memories left by Emma had left her with the distinct impression that with Natasha's skills and Buffy's Slayer empowered body, there wouldn't be too many foes capable of being a serious threat.

"They are a breed apart, Willow. U-unlike vampires, they have no earthly desires, only to collect their bounty," Giles explained, trying to convey the severity of the situation. "They find a target, and, uh... they eliminate it. You can kill as many of them as you like, it won't make any difference. Where there's one, there will be another, and another. They won't stop coming until the job is done. Each one of them works alone in his or her own way. Y-you won't know who they are until they strike."

For a time the gang waited to see how Buffy would react to the news and she was no exception to that. In truth, had the Halloween thing never happened, she would've expected this to be the point where her strawberry blonde friend stormed out of the library.

That was why she figured she could be forgiven for being a bit surprised at what happened next.

"Fine. We hole up someplace but only after making sure all eligible hostages are someplace else," Buffy said with a serious edge to her voice. "I am not going to be lured into a trap with live bait. Mom might be out of town at the moment but there's still Miss Calendar, not to mention Xander, Willow and Cordy's parents to think about."

"No need to worry about mine," she said with little concern. "They're still away at a seminar in Denver and won't be back for at least a month, assuming they don't go to some other seminar straight from the one they're at now."

It was something that she'd dealt with for a long time but only recently had accepted as proof that her parents didn't really care for her all that much. Away for the majority of the year, she was more or less left to her own devices and, as a result, had been forced to become self-reliant early on in life. Sure, Xander and Jesse had helped out when and where they could but, with their own issues as well as not being much more experienced then her in the whole cooking and cleaning bit. Prior to Halloween, she'd wrapped herself in the delusion that her parents really did love her and were just a little busy with their academic careers. Now, though, she could see the truth and accepted it and that was why, as soon as she graduated from high school, she was going to leave them and her old life for good. She'd even begun work on changing her identity entirely and, by the time she left the high school for the last time, all it would take would be a single click of a button to make Willow Rosenberg disappear and Sophie Snow to pop into existence.

Who she informed about this change in identity had yet to be decided, outside of Xander.

"Mine won't be a problem," Cordy said, looking like she still hadn't gotten over Giles' proclamation from yesterday. "They've gone up to L.A for a fancy dinner mah daddy got invited to. Won't be back 'til late tomorrow."

"No need to worry about mine, either," Xander said but did not elaborate on why Buffy shouldn't worry about them.

If what she'd found out telepathically and remembered on her own was true, she couldn't blame him for not elaborating. If he had, he'd likely tell the Slayer that his parents were such drunken wastes of space that he didn't particularly care if something happened to them. When she'd learned the true depth of what Xander had to put up with at home, her telepathy she had been SO tempted to psionically lobotomize both Tony and Jessica Harris. What they'd done to her friend and what they were thinking of doing to him was criminal and should've gotten them locked up a long time ago. However, due to the corruption of the local P.D., she could see how their behavior had been allowed to continue without any sort of penalties or prison terms.

She personally hoped that one of the assassins did kill Xander's parents, if only to rid her friend of that piece of darkness in his life.

"Good. Giles, get together any defense magic stuff you have and wait for my call. Make sure it's stuff that can be set up quickly," Buffy said before getting up from her chair. "I'm going to find the place for us to hole up at and get a few surprises as well."

All of them were a little surprised at Buffy's take charge attitude and lack of tantrum but it was Giles that voiced the question the rest of them had. "What do you mean by 'surprises', Buffy?" he asked with a bit of concern.

"You'll see." Was all that the Slayer said before passing through the doors to the library.

This, of course, got her inner curiosity engine running and for a moment she considered telepathically reaching out and reading her friend's mind to find out what the 'surprise' was. Xander, however, must have anticipated this course of action because he placed a restraining hand on her forearm and, when she looked at him, he shook his head in the negative. She didn't need to look into his mind to know that he was concerned about her becoming too much like Emma Frost and, while she wouldn't let that interfere with her training, she was happy that he was concerned for her well-being. The only bad part was that the concern was of the brother-sister variety rather than the boyfriend-girlfriend variety that she'd prefer it be, but for now she'd be content with what she could get. Thus she refrained from peering into the Slayer's mind.

For now.

"Well, we had best do as she asked. The sooner we can relocate to a safer location, the better I will feel," Giles said as he turned towards his office. "Willow, if you would be so kind as to inform Ms. Calendar of the situation, I will gather the components for the defensive spells. Xander? You and Cordelia begin packing some of the weapons from the book cage since I would rather not have to return here to for anything."

"You got it," Xander said, getting up from his chair. "C'mon, Cordy. Let's start bagging the sharp implements of death."

Cordy huffed a bit at this bit of menial labor that was unbefitting the rich bitch she was but followed Xander nonetheless. With Giles now in his office, she left the library and headed towards the computer lab where a quick telepathic sweep had informed her Jenny was located. She didn't peek inside the techno-pagan's head because she knew that the woman had psi-defenses in place, even if they were only mystical in nature. The defenses weren't enough to keep her out if she decided to push but the woman would know that someone was in her head uninvited and, given that the teacher had been briefed on the whole Halloween fiasco, it wouldn't take long for the truth to become apparent.

It was not worth the trouble she'd get into.

As the door to the computer lab came into sight, she began to wonder what sort of offensive telepathic techniques she'd be able to toss at these assassins. Immediately she removed the ones that required that she establish a link with them since she didn't want to take the chance of them sending something back along that connection. That limited her a bit but she still grinned at being able to see how effective she could be under real combat conditions rather than simple training exercises. It'd probably be best to stick to psi-bolts and hope that whatever the assassins were they didn't have a high threshold for pain.

If they did, THEN she'd have to start getting creative.

The Streets of Sunnydale, Half an Hour Later, Buffy's POV

I seriously HATE this! she thought as she came within sight of her destination.

Nevertheless, she had to admit that it was probably the smart thing to do, all things considered, so she kept walking to the place she hoped she'd be able to find what she wanted. It had been a day since Giles had let them all know that their 'inheritance' from their Halloween costumes was here to stay and that there was nothing that could be done about that. What she hadn't revealed to the others was that she had sort of been expecting such an outcome since it was generally how things tended to go for her when it came to her desires for a normal life. Oh, she had been pissed for a good hour or so after Giles had broken the news to them but, after she'd vented in her usual manner by reducing the vampire population by a dozen or so, she'd calmed down by quite a bit. Afterwards she'd gone home and laid down on her bed, wondering how she was going to deal with the latest burden to be dumped on her shoulders.

Repression wasn't going to do it, as she had already tried that, and it had turned out to be a delaying action at best, with the enemy gradually gaining ground despite her best efforts. Sooner or later it was going to win. She'd recalled all she could of what Willow and the others had told her that their costumes knew about the Black Widow and wondered if the Russian was really as bad as she'd believed. Naturally she'd mostly been opposed to embracing the new mental baggage because, for as long as she'd been alive, she'd been taught one thing: killing human beings is wrong and against the law. The training she'd received from Merrick had only reinforced this since it was the official mandate of the Council that the Slayer dealt exclusively with the demonic and the supernatural. The only time that she could wail on a human was if that human was working the black mojo or in league with a demon and even then only as much as was needed to end the threat.

For Natalia Alianovna Romanova, however, killing was just a part of the job and the woman accepted it.

According to Xander, Willow and Cordy, the woman wasn't some sort of bloodthirsty killer that liked racking up a body count but a professional super spy who often killed people as part of a mission. That had brought her some comfort as she'd stared up at the ceiling of her room going over her thoughts. Going by every spy movie and action flick with skilled female soldiers, she'd speculated that if that was the sort of life Natalia had led, then most of the people she'd killed had probably deserved what they'd received. Willow's words two weeks ago about how just because someone killed humans didn't necessarily make them a murderer in the same sense as some sicko who goes around killing people for fun had returned then and made her think. Soldiers and police officers killed because they had to or because those above them had decided that lethal force was required to accomplish a mission and permitted it. It had been this distinction that had left her thinking that maybe, just MAYBE, she should just take a chance and accept this newfound information.

By the time she had to leave to meet Angel at the local skating rink, she'd decided that she'd hold out just until Giles got word back from his sorcerer sources before making a decision.

Her date with Angel, of course, had opened up a whole new can of worms that she wasn't thrilled about but still had to deal with.

Ever since Halloween, she'd noticed her love (for lack of a better term) for him fading with every passing day. She'd tried to fire it back up the few times that they'd patrolled together or met at the Bronze but, despite their best efforts, it hadn't worked. Within the last couple of days it'd felt to her like she was just going through the motions of being his girlfriend rather than actually being in love with him. Last night, though, had been the real tell factor though because, when the assassin had attacked Angel, she hadn't skated forth thinking 'I have to save Angel' but rather 'target sited, preparing to terminate'. Where before she would have put him and her relationship with him first, she had instead become all business and seen the one eyed biker as an enemy to be slain. She'd pushed the revelation aside when Angel had started going on about the Order of Taraka and, when he'd left to check into a few things, she'd gone home.

Now, in the present, the bottom line of the leftovers from Halloween had been delivered and she'd made her decision about what she'd do with her Black Widow side. She'd take the part she needed and hope that that made it easier to suppress the parts she didn't want to touch with the longest pole on the planet. She'd take the skills and the weapons knowledge but would keep the memories of the missions at bay, if only because she didn't think she could handle 'remembering' them just yet.

That was why she was walking towards a fairly inconspicuous door on the side of a building near the main business district of Sunnydale. She'd noticed this place during one of her routine patrols and, whether she'd wanted to or not, she'd identified several oddities about it and its location bringing her to one inescapable conclusion.

Someone was doing something naughty and didn't want to be found out easily.

The problem with that was that the person in charge had gone too far in their efforts to keep it from standing out and that had made her notice it all the more. Once in front of the door, she contemplated the best way to make an entrance and while sneaking in would probably be the least troublesome she decided to give old Buffy a sendoff by going with the direct approach.

With the strength of the Slayer behind it, she kicked down the door before her and advanced rapidly into the room to find exactly what she'd predicted she'd find there. While not crime central, Sunnydale was not completely free of human criminals and one of the oldest criminal businesses around was weapon trafficking. Seeing guns and various other modern weapons lining both sides of the room, she'd entered into she immediately focused on the living occupants before her, since they apparently didn't appreciate uninvited guests. A man came at her from the right, looking to grab her and take her to his leader, but she evaded his grasp and, after catching a glimpse of metal beneath his jacket, reached for it. Pulling out the handgun, she immediately smacked him in the back of the head with it before taking careful aim at the other people in the room while the Widow side of her reminded her to take the safety off of the weapon. As the second one of the men went for his own weapon, she pulled the trigger, hitting the guy in the shoulder of his gun arm.

"I'm not here for trouble," she said with the Widow's Russian accent seeping through. "Just here to borrow a few things for a couple of hours."

"This is not a rental service, babe," said the man behind the desk, revealing himself to be the leader. "You got money, you get the guns. You don't have money, you don't get anything."

Walking towards him while never once lowering the gun, she held she reviewed several possible options before deciding to go with the most expedient, since the Scoobies would be waiting for her to call. Breaking into a run she leapt into the air, delivering a splits kick to the leader's bodyguards before landing on the balls of her feet and grabbing the guy's head, slamming it face first into the desk. Pulling the man's head back up she looked him straight in the eye and gave him a look that she usually reserved for vamps who had crossed one too many lines with her before pressing the handgun against his forehead.

"I repeat: I am not here for trouble," she said with a voice as cold as ice and an accent that was out in full force. "However if you want trouble, that can be arranged."

"N-n-n-no trouble! Take whatever ya want," the leader said sounding like he realized just how dead he could be if he made the wrong move. "J-just try to bring it all back in good condition."

"I'll do what I can," she said as she slowly stepped off the desk, glared at the recovering bodyguards and then lowered the handgun before tucking it into the back of her pants.

Time to shop! she thought and, while not designer clothes, there were a few weapons that brought a shine to her eyes.

The Crawford Mansion, Two Hours Later, Xander's POV

"You sure this is the place Buffy wants to meet us at?" Xander asked as he looked at the slightly run down looking mansion.

"Yes, I'm sure," Willow replied with a bit of annoyance at the slight to her ability to listen and remember.

"It seems durable enough," Giles said, looking the building over before extending his gaze to the area around them. "Now let us get inside where we may have a modicum of safety."

Not seeing a problem with that, the group of five people advanced towards the front door but, before any could open it, did so on its own to reveal Buffy, who was looking decidedly in Slayer mode. It was then that he wondered what precisely she'd done to fortify the place but, once they were all inside and she closed the door, he got his first glimpse of an answer. Once the door was locked, he watched as she took some nearly transparent wire and what looked to be a grenade and rigged it up so that if the door was opened or broken down, the uninvited guest would get an explosive surprise. He and the others were surprised enough that Buffy even knew how to do this but the answer came to his mind swiftly enough as he remembered the bad news Giles had recently dropped on them. Obviously Buffy had taken the news and in the end had chosen to at least make use of the combat knowledge the Black Widow had given her to plan a few surprises for the Terakan assassins.

"Alright, everyone's going to go to the basement," Buffy said as she led them to a door around the corner from living room they'd been in. "It has access to the sewers if we need an escape route, as well as an exit into the backyard if they try to use the vamp highway to get in here. Giles, I want you to put up defensive wards on the doors once we're all in. Doesn't have to be anything fancy but make sure it'll be enough to keep them out no matter how hard they bang on the door."

"What will you be doing?" Ms. Calendar asked, sounding concerned about the new Buffy they were dealing with.

Buffy didn't answer right away, seemingly focused on getting them into the previously mentioned basement before giving computer teacher a response. Upon arriving in the basement, there were a few things that caught his attention wondering if maybe Buffy was embracing her inner Black Widow a bit too much. Leaning up against one wall were two shotguns with two boxes of ammunition beside each of them and, on a table on the opposite wall, looked to be two rows of items that looked suspiciously like gas spewing grenades. However the most telling thing was the long case that Buffy went over to, put into a large duffel bag and carried over to the entrance to the sewers.

"I'll be showing these assassins that the Slayer isn't limited to obsolete weapons anymore," Buffy replied as she lifted up the grate and dropped into the sewers with her bag.

"Wait! Buffy what are you-?" Giles tried to ask but he soon realized that his charge was already on the move, too far away to hear his words.

"I think it's safe to say she isn't fighting her Halloween inheritance anymore," Willow said with a smile of victory on her face.

"Looks like it, sugah," Cordy said, looking about the basement. "Don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, folks. Widow might've been one of the best in her line of work but Buffy's brand spankin' new to it."

"It shouldn't be that big of a leap, Cordy," Willow said as she began to unpack the spell components she'd carried over to the mansion. "Buffy's never had any trouble using weapons before and that's what guns are."

"Yes… well… as true as that statement might be, she's never actually wielded one before, so far as I know. Even allowing for a Slayer's natural proficiency with regards to weapons, a certain degree of training is required in order to truly master them." Giles sighed as he evidently decided not to chase after his Slayer, "Truth be told, I am a bit more worried about where she acquired these firearms."

"I'm thinking ignorance is probably the way to go here," he said as he looked over the grenades to see what precisely they were. "Somehow I doubt that smoke and incendiary grenades are things you can buy down at the local S-Mart."

"Quite. Well, we had best begin setting up the defensive wards since it is quite likely that at least one of the Order's members has been keeping track of us," Giles said, sounding like he'd very much like to change the topic.

"I thought we were comin' here to hide from them!" Cordy said with a bit of surprise. "What's the point in comin' here if they know where to find us?"

"Not hide, Ms. Chase. I merely believed that we required a secure location from which we could plan our next move," Giles clarified as he joined Willow in organizing the spell components. "Given the special talents that most of the Order's assassins possess, I very much doubt that hiding would have worked."

"Ah seriously hate the whole lot of ya!" Cordy exclaimed before finding a reasonably clean patch of floor and sitting down.

Time passed as Giles and Willow cast wards of defense on the entrances to the basement in the hopes of preventing any assassin from getting to them. However he failed to see the point of this since, aside from depriving the Terakans of hostages or leverage, it did nothing to protect Buffy from their efforts to end her life. As soon as the assassins figured out that she wasn't there, they'd leave and when they found the Slayer all by her lonesome, it might take time but they'd kill her without a doubt. He wanted to be out there helping her any way that he could even if it meant putting his own life on the line. After all, what had they been doing since they met Buffy but risking their lives helping her with the nightly slayage and stopping the odd end of the world scenario.

We might've helped her but, when it came to the actual fighting, we were more distractions then people the baddies needed to take seriously. Willow thought into his head without breaking stride with her work. If we went out there now we'd only be in the way.

CRACK!

"What the hell was that?!" Cordy asked as the echoes of the initial noise continued to go through the air.

"Sounds like it came from outside," he said, basing his decision on the amount of muffling there was with the sound.

It was then that he began to realize what Buffy had done and was doing at that precise moment but he couldn't decide whether he wanted to be impressed that she'd used them as bait or angry. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that her plan must have been to put them in a secure location, get out through the sewers and take up a sniping position a block or three away. That cracking sound they'd just heard must have been Buffy taking out one of the assassins, assuming that natural Slayer weapons proficiency plus Black Widow memories were enough to make her a good shot. He sure hoped it did and prayed that a high caliber sniper round would be enough to put down a Tarakan assassin because, as Giles had mentioned once, modern firearms don't impress most demons.

His concern was increased when a boom raced through the air and, unless his ears were deceiving him, he'd bet good money that it came from INSIDE the mansion.

Not good.

"Looks like the party has moved indoors," he said as he walked over to and picked up one of the shotguns that had been left in the room. "Better get the party favors ready."

He began to slide shells into the pump action shotgun while doing his best to figure out where the best places would be to aim when it was likely the target wouldn't be bothered much by the shots.

Face. Both sides of the chest and/or the stomach were also good choices. If the assassin was revealed to be male, then right in the family jewels area would also be good, even if the idea made him cringe slightly.

He just hoped that after hitting one or all of those spots, the killer for hired did go down because, if it didn't, then it'd be all up to Buffy to save them which might not happen if she had caught a bad case of the deads.

One Hour Later, Willow's POV

Well this is getting boring, she thought as an hour finished ticking by without any word from Buffy or any sign that the assassins from the Order of Teraka were coming after them.

It had been more than a little while since the last sign of activity outside the basement they'd been standing or sitting in but no further noise could be heard to let them know how things were going. For all they knew, Buffy was dead and the killers for hire had gone home but, then again, they could be waiting patiently outside the mansion to get some target practice in. Giles had repeatedly advised them to be patient but there was only so many times a girl could go over the spell ingredients and watch Xander check each firearm or grenades Buffy had brought to the mansion.

In the end she decided it was time to put an end to the boredom get some info on what precisely was going on outside.

Sitting down cross-legged on the floor, she closed her eyes and reached out with her telepathy, seeking out any minds that might be close by. She could sense the background noise generated by sub-sentient animals and bugs but moved past them utilizing no more attention on them then one would a gentle breeze. When she encountered a rat that seemed to be close to where they'd heard the explosion earlier, she tapped into its sense of sight to see what the aftermath looked like. It was a bit annoying that the vermin wouldn't keep its gaze centered in the area she wanted but she did see enough to know that a door that had been closed when the Scoobies had arrived was now in pieces on the floor, aflame. Apparently Buffy had booby trapped more than just the front door and one of the assassins had boobied right into it. She could see what she figured to be organic remains on the floor but a lot of it was black ash with the few intact pieces too much on fire for her to identify. The funny thing was that it looked like the door had been closed when the bomb had gone off and it had been inside the room at the time.

So how did the assassin get in and trigger the bomb without opening the door?

Moving on from the rat, she expanded her search until she finally picked up two human minds, one approaching the mansion while the other seemed to be waiting close by, but rather than tap into either of those, she found a nearby bird to watch things through. She seized a bit more control over it than she did the rat since she didn't want it to fly off if things started to get crazy but she doubted her feathered friend would suffer any serious damage from her commandeering of its body.

Looking in the direction of the approaching figure, she saw a man decked out in clothes that looked like he'd taken half of his designer suit and half of his military gear and meshed them together to form an outfit. The strange thing was that it oddly worked for him. Angling the birds head in the direction of the person that was waiting close, by she found out it was Buffy and was surprised by the excellent concealment job she'd done. If it hadn't been for the fact that she could telepathically sense the Slayer's mind, she'd have passed right over the girl's position without being any the wiser. Obviously she was waiting to ambush the assassin walking down the road but a thought occurred to her that had her scratching her head somewhat. According to Giles, the assassins from the Order of Teraka always travelled in packs of three and, by her count, Buffy had successfully dealt with two already.

The biker at the skating rink was one of them for sure, the burning mess in the mansion was another and, after she looked around a bit with the bird's eyes, she found number three minus a head at the front door of the mansion. So who was this new guy?

She didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Come out. I know you're there and I applaud you for luring us into a trap, young Slayer," spoke the man with a slight French accent. "I had been informed by our client that you had no experience with modern weaponry. This is a fact that I will have to discuss with him once I have killed you."

Buffy then did something she thought was pretty dumb, which was rise up from her concealed location and approach the member of the Order of Teraka as though she didn't have a care in the world.

"And this client would be?" Buffy asked with a decent Russian accent, implying she was tapping deeply into the Black Widow remnants at the moment.

"I am not at liberty to say his name but, considering that he failed to inform me of your new skills, I will say that I believe our assignment is meant as a diversion for him," replied the assassin in a professional manner.

"I am afraid I will have to insist that you tell me more," Buffy said with a chilly voice that was pretty damn lethal sounding.

"Then, as you Americans say, make me." The assassin charged Buffy head on at a speed that was easily equal to any vampire she'd ever seen.

What she witnessed next was nothing less than amazing as the two began to move almost as if they were dancing except for the fact that it was obvious they were trying to do grievous bodily harm to each other. At first it seemed as though they were about equal both in physical ability and skill but that began to change as signs of stress began to show up on the assassin's face while Buffy remained as cool and focused as ever.

"Where…did you…ungh…learn…systema…this well…?" the assassin asked as he took a step back.

Buffy didn't respond to his question at all and that was definitely not typical behavior since it was pretty much a constant for the Slayer to quip every couple of minutes during a fight. Made her wonder just how deeply Buffy was going Widow, since no quips made her think it was quite a lot and perhaps too much.

I'll have to ask her about that later, she thought as the Slayer forced the assassin to take two more steps back.

It was at that point that the killer for hire made his first and last mistake when he tried to go on the offensive but wound up over extending himself. Buffy took full advantage of that and began to take the guy apart with attacks to the joints, pressure points and vital areas of the body. By the time the strawberry blonde was done, the guy was a twitching mess on the floor with a body that was both out of whack and in serious pain. She was about to let go of the bird and let the others know that it was all over with when she watched Buffy pull a knife from her boots and advance on the downed assassin. This was definitely venturing into black ops territory and she wasn't sure that the Slayer was ready for that kind of leap considering that, up until twenty-four hours ago, she'd been rejecting the Black Widow side of her.

"Now I believe you have a name to give me and perhaps a location," Buffy said still sporting Widow's accent as she knelt down in front of the man who was miraculously still conscious.

"Never. The Order…does not betray…its clients…" the assassin bit out before going into convulsions with a white foam bubbling out of his mouth.

Suicide, she thought as she slipped back to her own mind and opened her eyes. Guess the Order of Teraka is serious about maintaining client confidentiality.

"So who won?" Xander asked her after she realized that everyone in the room was looking at her expectantly.

"Buffy, just like always," she said with a reassuring smile, "but you might want to have a little talk with her, Giles. I think she might be embracing her Widow side a bit too much."

This caused the British man to pull off his glasses and start cleaning them and that meant he was as disturbed by the news. While not quite as concerned as the Watcher, she did think that Buffy should ease herself into what she'd gained from the Black Widow rather than dive in head first. For her, the transition had been done gradually and, when Emma Frost had been in possession of her body, the telepath had left behind certain mechanisms in her mind to facilitate things. Buffy had been resisting it all since the spell was broken and to tap into this much this quickly without any preparation would definitely have side effects.

What those side effects would be she didn't know but she made a mental note to prepare herself in case she needed to enter her friend's mind in order to repair the damage.

"You can open up, Giles," Buffy said through the door that led to the interior of the mansion. "It's over… for now."

Two Hours Later, Approaching the Harris Household, Xander's POV

Things are changing and I don't think I like where they're going, he thought as turned the corner onto his street. Willow's more than halfway to becoming Emma's daughter and Buffy's decided to flip through the Black Widow's playbook. How long before I go super villain and Cordy decides to wear completely body covering clothes?

It had only been a half hour since their raid on Spike's lair and he was still stunned by how they'd found it and pretty much cleaned it out. After Buffy had taken out the assassins, they'd all tried to figure out who might've hired them based on the small piece of info the final one had provided. It hadn't taken long to figure out that it was Spike since he was the current Big Bad in town and would have reason to hire outsiders to attack them rather than handling them himself. The problem then became how to find the bloodsucker when there were easily a dozen lairs above ground where he could be and probably twice that amount below ground. It was then that the strawberry blonde Slayer came upon a solution to that issue that was so obvious he'd been surprised that one of them hadn't thought of it sooner. Buffy patted down the last assassin and located his cell phone then began looking through its most recent calls made to see which ones were local. Once that was done, it was simply a matter of looking at the one called both most often and at periodic times each day. It was after all only prudent to keep in touch with your client to give mission updates and also ensure that you had all the necessary info for the hit.

From there it only took a bit of thinking and a nearby phone book to find out which section of the city the suspected phone number was located in.

Giles had wanted to take the time to think things through more but Buffy had insisted that they attack immediately before Spike began to suspect that there was something wrong. The Watcher reluctantly agreed and so they proceeded to the warehouse district with the Slayer's most likely illegal armaments. When they got within two blocks of the target building, Buffy had issued a quick plan wherein she would crash in through the roof drawing the attention of every vamp present to her. At that point she'd told them they should blast their way in the side entrances and try to take as many of the vamps down with the shotguns and incendiary grenades in the first few seconds. She'd told them that by using these tactics, they'd be able to inflict maximum damage in the shortest amount of time, preventing Spike from mounting a defense. He and Giles had been the ones with the shotguns while the others were given two grenades each and within minutes had gotten into position.

What happened next was one of the sweetest memories he'd gained in a long time.

When he'd heard the shattering of the warehouse's skylight, he'd kicked open the door before him and, with Willow at his side, began blasting vamps while she tossed her grenades into the biggest clumps of bloodsuckers within range. Within minutes they'd gone from what had to have been at least fifteen vamps to three or four, with both Spike and Drusilla among them. Before the former could voice a single 'bloody hell', Buffy zipped in and staked him with the utmost speed, skill and precision, taking the Billy Idol impersonator out. However before they could do the same to Drusilla, a new player entered the game catching everyone's attention. She was of obvious African descent, dressed in stylish teenage girl clothes and was very business orient as she immediately honed in on the remaining vamps and attacked.

This bit of chaos, one not of their creation, proved to be more than enough for Drusilla to push past Cordy and get out of sight. By the time that they'd gotten to the room the insane vampire had fled to, all they'd found had been a hole leading to the sewers. Naturally this had been unanimously voted as being a bad thing and so they'd gone to confront the strange girl who'd turned an increasingly successful raid into only a seventy-five percent success. They'd been shocked when the girl had identified herself as Kendra the Vampire Slayer and that she'd been ordered by her Watcher to travel to Sunnydale to prevent a dark power from rising. While he'd thought that the 'dark power' was the priority, Buffy had decided to discuss the issue of a second Slayer first and wouldn't tolerate any interruptions.

It took some logical thinking but the basic scenario they'd been able to come up with was that when Buffy was drowned by the Master six or so months ago, she was technically dead. True, he'd been able to revive her with a little CPR but she'd still been dead and that'd been enough to trigger the calling of the next Slayer. Once that little bit of news was settled they determined that the 'dark power' Kendra had been sent to stop was most likely Spike's efforts to restore Drusilla to health (for a vampire, anyways). With Spike dead, though, it was unlikely that the mad Seer would be able to manage that on her own and with few other vampires on the Hellmouth who'd be willing to help her, the Scoobies decided that they'd done the foreign Slayer's job for her. Naturally the newbie had been of a different opinion and had told them all that she'd be sticking around until Drusilla's death had been confirmed, either by them or by her own firsthand staking of the bloodsucker. In the end Giles suggested that they all go home, get some rest and reconvene at the library tomorrow so that they could discuss what needed to be done with clear heads.

This had been approved by unanimous decision and that brought him to where he was right now at the top of his house's driveway.

Looking at the lit windows, he personally hoped that both of his parents were unconscious at the moment because he would very much like to be able to get to his room without any trouble. Sadly, when he opened the door, he got a very good indicator that at least his father was awake when an empty bottle of whisky came flying at his head. It was mere luck that he managed to evade it but he almost wished he'd let it hit since the pain would've been preferable to pissing Tony off more. He had learned a long time ago that there was a time to dodge the drunken asshole's attacks and a time to endure them.

This had clearly been one of the times he should've just taken the hit if the look of elevated fury on elder Harris' face was any indicator. "Where the hell have you been, you little shit!?" Tony asked with a slight slurring to his words.

"School, Dad. Had a class project I needed to do some research on," he replied letting the usual lie fall from his lips.

"Like shit you were! I called the school and your principal said the place was empty except for the janitor!" Tony yelled back with his anger quickly reaching the point at which violence would likely ensue. "You knew damn well that you had chores to do after school and where the hell are those groceries you were supposed to be getting?! Damn near had to order out and those places rip you off every chance they get!"

He'd known all of this, of course, and had intended to do the chores and the grocery shopping if only to avoid the storm of fury that Tony was likely to bring about if he didn't. However with the whole Order of Teraka bit, he'd put a little more importance on getting someplace safe then doing things he could easily put off until later. While before they'd left for the mansion he'd been a little worried that his parents would still be up and about when he got home, he'd hoped that the two of them would've already drunk themselves silly by now.

"The chores can wait until tomorrow, Dad. Nothing's so bad that it can't wait another day," he replied trying to keep from saying anything to make things worse. "As for the groceries there should've been a microwave pizza or two in the freezer to—"

That was as far as he got before his father crossed the distance between the two of them and backhanded him across the face, staggering him.

"Don't you talk back to me, you useless waste of space!" Tony yelled, spraying a bit of spittle as he talked. "You'll do your chores when I say you do them AND you'll get the groceries when I tell you to! I am the KING of this house and as long as you live here, you will do PRECISELY what I tell you to do!"

Anger began to take shape within him at the nerve Tony had calling him a waste of space when the bastard looked like he'd forgotten how to keep himself decently clean and groomed. From his point of view, it looked like the moron hadn't showered in at least three days and definitely had more than a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. The clothes the guy had on looked like they'd been taken straight off of Columbo's back with how wrinkled and stained they were. When you added Tony's appearance with the fact that they guy drunk booze like most people breathed air and it never ceased to amaze him why anyone would hire the jackass.

Probably just treating him as a pity case, he thought to himself. "Look, I'll do the chores tomorrow morning before I head out to school and I'll get the groceries when classes are over. Right now I'm tired and I'll need to get some sleep if I'm to get everything done before school tomorrow."

His father's response to that was to deliver a punch to the gut that almost made him drop to his knees if his willpower hadn't managed to keep his knees from bending.

"You'll get the groceries NOW and when you get back you'll get all of your chores done before you even SEE your bed, never mind sleep in it!" Tony yelled, his anger as strong as ever. "Now get your fucking ass back out that door, when you get back in an hour you'd best have arms full of groceries or I'm gonna kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a MONTH!"

"Why don't you do it yourself, you fat bastard!?" he said before his brain had a chance to approve anything. It was only after he considered things for the next few seconds that he realized that his brain was in full agreement with his mouth on the statement just issued. Twice Tony had hit him without just cause and he'd be DAMNED if he let it happen a third time at the hands of the filthy bastard before him.

"What…did you just say?!" Tony asked in a low but furious voice.

"You heard me, old man! You want the chores done right away?! You want the groceries bought right now!? Do it all yourself!" he yelled at his father giving into the anger he'd kept at bay for so long. "For almost ten years I've cooked, I've cleaned and I've done my best to try and act like a son should but it's never been enough for you! You want to stand there and act like the Big Man, the King, then why don't you put your money where your mouth is for once! Clean yourself up, get rid of that beer keg you call a stomach and start behaving like a respectable adult! Do that and maybe you'll deserve some respect rather everyone's disgust!"

Even as his father's face turned an interesting shade of red, he had to admit that it felt good to finally get all the things he'd ever wanted to say off his chest once and for all. Maybe now that he'd proven that he wasn't going to just take Tony's abuse anymore the jackass would actually get his act together a bit. Millions of fathers worldwide were capable of keeping themselves and their homes respectable, so why should Tony Harris get off easy! He'd seen pictures of what his Dad had looked like when he'd been younger and, while still looking like he favored the bottle a little, Tony had definitely been better looking.

The idiot had just let himself go, plain and simple.

"I'll show you respect!" Tony bellowed finally before delivering a passable right hook to his jaw.

He tried to clear his head of the stars so he could start evading the older man's follow up attacks but it looked like the drunken waste knew when to press an attack. Punches were mostly what was sent his way but, after his back hit the wall, the owner of the house decided to up the ante by picking up a nearby whisky bottle and slamming it into the side of his head finally knocking him to the floor.

"It's high time I beat some respect into, you little prick!" Tony said, standing over him with the broken bottle still in his hand. "Beat it into you so hard you won't ever back talk to me again!"

As blood trickled down the side of his head, his anger turned to a fury that was reinforced by something he'd done his best to keep separate from himself ever since Halloween. This was NOT how a father was supposed to treat his son! No matter what a son did, a father was not supposed to treat his child like a slave and DEFINITELY wasn't supposed to treat him like a punching bag! These two statements were adamantly believed both by himself and by the echo of Magneto that lay within him, thus, with a mind that was as one in their point of view, there was only one thing left to do.

"Go ahead and try it, you fat tub of lard!" he said as he got back to his feet, his resolve clearly visible in his eyes.

This had the effect he knew it would and, when his father tried to slash at him with the broken remains of the bottle, he was ready for it. Being used to squaring off against vampires, sidestepping the attack was easy enough the first time. It only got easier the next couple of times, given that Tony was so intoxicated that anything other than direct attacks might as well not exist for the asshole. It got to the point where he couldn't help but take advantage of the predictability of his father's moves and therefore grab the bottle arm sending a punch aimed at the man's jaw. As his old man reeled back from the force of the blow, he prepared to do a repeat when, out of nowhere, Tony pulled a move that was infamous among both men and women: A straight kick to the family jewels. Due how close the two of them were, he didn't have enough time to evade it, at least not entirely.

The pain from the blow was enough to make him lose his focus as he dropped to his knees, allowing his father to free himself. He'd only just managed to get his focus back when his dad managed to nail him with to the face that knocked him on his back.

"Pathetic! Can't even take a decent hit!" Tony said with a cruel smile on his face. "Maybe I should see if those two bitches you hang out with can do better. I bet they're better than you at a lot of things."

Those words banished the fog from his mind in an instant as an image of his father doing to Buffy and Willow what he'd done to him for years came forth. "You do anything to hurt them and I'll kill you!" he growled with deadly intent as he got back to his feet.

"Shouldn't make threats you don't have the stones to follow through on, BOY," Anthony Harris said, the smile never leaving his face. "Besides, I'm sure those two whores would appreciate spending some time with a REAL man!"

You know line in the sand that people metaphorically draw and warn against crossing? Tony Harris had just crossed it.

With a roar of anger he charged his father and, with the advantage of surprise, delivered a punch to the man's face with the same amount of strength he'd usually use against a vampire. This proved to be enough to send Tony to the ground but, in his rage, he was not satisfied with that and immediately he straddled his father's chest to immobilize him, raining blows down on the poor excuse for a man. The inebriated fool tried to get him off but he had the advantage of positioning, so it was pretty much futile for him to even try but as time passed the struggling became less and less.

"You've caused so much suffering and pain in this house, old man! God only knows how many mistakes you've made since the day you were born!" he yelled as he continued to punch Tony with everything he had. "Have you even TRIED to be a good man or were just too lazy and drunk to even put forth a scrap of effort!? Answer me!"

He was unaware of how much time had passed since his confrontation with his father had begun and he was only peripherally aware of the fact that blood now adorned his knuckles. All that he was thinking about were all the times this horrible man had beat him or his mother because of something that was not their fault in the least. For the longest time he'd kept this anger bottled up for the most part because he didn't want others to suspect what was really going on at home. He also didn't want to be like his father and lash out at those around him because of his own personal problems. Now… now he no longer cared about holding it in and being the better man. All that he cared about was returning some of the pain he'd received over the years and pounding into Tony that he wouldn't be taking any more of his abuse.

"Alex, STOP!" came a frightened woman's voice from ahead of him.

Looking in the direction of the voice, he saw something that instantly snapped him out of his violent rage.

Standing at the top of the stairs in her evening clothes, looking at him like he was some kind maniac, was his mother.

On the topic of his mother, he had never been able to settle on a definite opinion of her but there had been enough acts of kindness mixed in with the doormat routine that the way she was looking at him had a significant effect. Sometimes she'd be so nice to him by making him breakfast or doing something special for him on his birthday, but then there were the times when Tony would beat him and she'd either do nothing, or would just leave the room. She didn't fit his image of an average mother, not perfectly, but she was far closer to her role then Tony was to his. Seeing her look at him like he was some kind of monster, like he was a violent psycho, hurt him and made him realize just what he had let himself do. Looking down at his father's face, he was shocked at the level of damage he'd done in what seemed to him to be a relatively short period of time. Bruises and blood made up the most of it but he wouldn't at all be surprised to find out that there were bone fractures. Looking at his hands, he could see his father's blood on them, but there was some of his own as well where his blows wound up breaking his own skin.

What… what have I done?

He'd always been angry with his father for what the man had done to him but it had never gotten so bad that he lost control like that. If it ever got really bad, he either coped with a couple of packs of Twinkies or got into a particularly nasty verbal sparring match with Cordy. Fortunately the socialite queen never failed to provide him with reasons to go a couple rounds with her and he almost always walked away less angry at his dad or he forgot why he was mad to begin with. When Buffy came along and informed him about the truth of the world, he then found a new outlet for his pent up anger.

For him to have so completely lost his temper when he never had before it could only mean one thing. Reaching into his mind briefly, he could feel emotions and thoughts not his own racing this way and that with a damaged mental box at the center barely retaining its square shape.

Erik had been loosed, if only for a couple of minutes, and the result had been beating his father into a bloody mess on the floor.

Fear spiking within him, he bolted for his room and slammed the door shut behind him before he racked his mind for a 'next move' that would work. He wouldn't be able to stay in this house after this because it was a certainty that his father would seek retribution for the beating sooner or later, so that left staying at a friend's house until he was old enough to live on his own. He doubted that the local cops would give a shit, given how much they let slide in Sunnydale, so he wouldn't have to worry about being dragged back to Tony's 'welcoming arms'. On the surface it was a sound idea but it was when he dug deeper that he realized that it was actually worse than if he chose to stay in the Harris household. Thanks to what happened with his father, the container he'd made to keep the remnants of Magneto separate from his own mind was now in ruins and he could feel strange feelings, thoughts and memories seeping through his mind. Keeping him and Erik Magnus Lensherr apart was no longer an option since he didn't possess anywhere near the mental acuity to pick out the foreign elements surging through his mind from what actually belonged there. It was only a matter of time before those foreign elements began to influence his behavior and how he looked at the world around him including his friends.

Some might see Magneto as some sort of tragic character whose actions could be sympathized with, even if they were villainous, but few realized just how far Erik had gone to accomplish his goals. The words 'never again' could be used to justify quite a bit in terms of actions and the Master of Magnetism had certainly justified quite a bit if the nightmares he had those first few nights were any hint. Would he now begin to think in similar ways? Would he wind up committing horrible acts in his quest to end the vampire race? Would he be willing to heartlessly sacrifice his friends if it meant accomplishing his goals?

It was then that a little fact entered his mind that, had he looked in a mirror, would've let him see himself go distinctly pale. What if he was like Willow but his powers hadn't activated yet?

According to the way that Willow had explained the concept of mutants to Giles, most manifested their powers after they hit puberty and usually during moments of extreme emotional duress. Had he just dodged a bullet downstairs with his father? Would he have gained the power of magno-kinesis had his mother not intervened when she had? He didn't know the answer to that but he did know that, given the sort of things that tended to happen on the Hellmouth, it was only a matter of time before something happened to him that brought the powers of Magneto to the surface. Considering that the initial manifestation of a mutants powers tended to be violent and adding to that the sheer power his nightmares had shown Erik had at his fingertips, he could very well wind up killing his friends.

He couldn't let that happen and that left only one option open to him. I have to leave.

His heart cried out in pain at this course of action but it was the only way he could think of handling the situation so that they wouldn't get hurt because of him. Hulled out an old duffel bag out of his closet, along with his book bag, before emptying both of all their contents. Once that was done he began to pack the things he thought he'd need living the life of a runaway, such as clothes, all the money he'd managed to save up for the cross country trip after graduation and any personal items that he couldn't leave without. For that last item on the list there were only three things really that he absolutely could not bear to be parted from.

A picture of the whole Scooby gang that was taken just outside the school the day that Willow thought she should commemorate the founding of the team.

A cross that Giles had given him after neither he nor Willow gave up helping Buffy three months into her first year at Sunnydale High School.

A Saint George medallion that Mrs. S had given him after she'd mistakenly gotten it in a shipment to her gallery.

When he was all packed, he looked about the room he'd lived in for all the years of his life and, on a whim, decided to do one more thing before he hopped on a bus out of town.