**********
Quite a story, Doyle said.
It is, isn't it? She giggled softly. That's how I became interested in the otherworld. Finding out that old wives' tales are actually true will do that to you.
That wasn't what it had done to him, but then his story was different from hers. And they have never tried to kill you?
no. Occasionally I have had to protect my friends and family, but I was always safe myself. It really came down to two things. First of all, Spike for some reason finds me entertaining, not to mention useful. Second is that I have always stayed armed, in case his sense of humour would fail him.
What about Drusilla?
, she said distinctly, and Spike's other friends who know what is best for them, leave me alone. I am Spike's plaything, and if anyone is to kill me it's him. That's the way he sees it.
Interesting form of protection.
You could say that again. She sat silent for a while. And in spite of what you might think, it never had anything to do with sexual attraction. Even though I was what is the term nowadays a babe?
He laughed at her self-certainty. You where?
Oh yeah, most definitely. You want to see?

He expected her to get an album or something. Instead, she took a deep breath, seemed to concentrate for a few seconds, and her face began to change. It didn't take much longer than one of his old human-to-demon changes for her to become a slim, blonde teenage girl once again.
Doyle's jaw dropped, and Wilma grinned.
So you had to see it to believe it. Yes, sir, this is what faith can do.
His eyes wandered over her body. Well, she was no Cordelia, but not half bad either. You're right, you are a babe.
Thank you. She immediately turned back, and he frowned.
Can't you keep it on longer than that? he asked. It wasn't so much that he liked her young body better, but if she couldn't stick to it, how could he possibly stick to his?
I can keep it on for as long as I want, she said. But I don't. What's the point in looking like one of my own granddaughters? I actually find that shape a bit creepy.
She didn't seem to be able to explain further, and as Doyle's mind wandered, he said:
Can I ask something? When I'm human again, will it be through and through, or just looking like it?
Ah. Now we're entering philosophy. It's not an illusion, if that's what you mean. I usually shapeshift into a horse or a turtle, and I assure you that if anyone was to kill and dissect me while I'm in that form, they would find nothing strange about those animals, nothing that showed that there had been a human mind in them. My own young self, however I'm not in the habit of self-healing, even though it's entirely possible to do so. So what I just showed you was a young girl with heart and joints like an old woman. If you want to keep your demon powers when you shapeshift, you can do that, but it will take some work. Normally, when you start shifting some parts, the rest just comes along. She smiled when she added: Which is usually a good thing, since it means you don't have to believe in your own pancreas.
I see. He melted the information. So - when are we going to get started?
If you want to, we can start right now.
**********
Found something, Buffy said and placed a finger in the book she was reading.
The rest of the bunch looked up. Anything on the altar thing? Xander asked hopefully.
no, Buffy had to admit. Just a description of some spell that keeps these guys loyal. Apparently, they're not above ordinary methods like drilling, propaganda and brainwashing, but this spell makes sure the troops stay united. So it's not unless that stuff fails that they try the extreme methods, and even then they prefer torture to branding.
She didn't realise at first why Cordelia stared at her, and when she did, she wished she had kept shut.
Doyle didn't say anything about being tortured, Cordelia said, wishing the reason he hadn't was because it hadn't happened.
You don't talk about things like that, Angel said silently. To keep himself from thinking any further down these lines he continued: So, Buffy, do you think this information will be helpful?
Well, by the look of it, it's not a very complicated spell. I'm sure we can counter it by a stronger spell to cause discord among them. On the other hand, in the long run it might only tick them off completely.
Worth a try, Angel said.
She moved for the phone. I'll call Giles and ask him to find a spell we can use.
Or you could let me do it, Wesley said mildly.
She stared at him in a way that clearly showed that the thought had never entered her mind. Finally, she shrugged.
Alright, give it a try.
In spite of what Buffy might have believed, it didn't take Wesley long to work out a spell to divide the army.
This will be very handy in the defence department, Angel said. I still have to do my job, and quite frankly, I don't like the way the demons have cluttered lately. So anytime any of you run into demons, I want you to do the spell on them. That's even more important than killing them right now.
Still just small potatoes, Cordelia said with a pout. With this demon uprising, all the extra work ought to mean a lot of extra money as well, but they were too busy to actually get any paying clients. What had started with Doyle's condition had moved on to another one of those tedious apocalypses. Cordelia trusted Angel, she knew he could stop the bad guys. She just wanted it to happen quickly.
Yeah, I know. He sighed. That training camp Doyle was in might be worth a try, though. The demons there aren't full-fledged yet, our counterspell will most likely have the greatest effect there.
Most likely?
He shook his head. Hey, no guarantees.
**********
That ought to be the guys Harry knew, Angel said when the doorbell rang. They had decided that the best way to approach the camp was by infiltration, and to do that, they needed demons. When Angel called Doyle for directions and happened to hint something like that, Doyle had assumed they wanted him to come along, and sulked a bit when it turned out they didn't.
They know you by now, Angel had said. Total strangers who have no connection to you or to us, that's what we need. Although he wouldn't admit it to Doyle, it wouldn't have mattered if the camp people had never seen Doyle before in their life. Angel still wouldn't have wanted him to come. This time around, he wanted to keep that little half-demon alive.
Cordelia opened the door, and if she was startled by the looks of the four big demons, she didn't show it. Instead, they shook hands and introduced themselves. Two of the demons were Brachen, one male and one female, and their names were Veta and Ord. The other two were Laexara demons. When Cordelia had first heard that word, she wasn't sure if she had ever met one. Looking at these two brothers, Halvor and Haren, she was certain she hadn't.
Considering that they were demons, the Laexara weren't bad looking. Their statures were almost human, not counting the four arms and the short white fur. Their heads were shaped human, too, but the ears and faces looked more like goats' than anything else, if you could imagine a goat with fangs. Hair more like a horse's mane grew from the back of their heads. All this thrown into one, they most definitely looked weird, but not scary. Toy stores might actually be able to sell Laexara demons as stuffed animals.
Veta immediately turned to Angel.
We are here to help you with your mission, she said solemnly. We too have had trouble with this cult. There are always wars between the clans, but now even our own kind turn against us. If we can do anything to stop that, we will. Her eyes moved towards the Laexara, and she seemed hesitant. These warriors have the same cause as we do, and have promised their help in every way.
I appreciate that, Angel said, and with a few short instructions he explained the plan. And please remember, he concluded, killing them will *not* help our case. If you must kill them, do so, but first choice is always to cast the spell. Is that clear?
Very clear, Halvor muttered. Not that I wouldn't prefer to rip their bloody heads off.
What's your problem? Cordelia asked sourly. Too much testosterone?
Halvor growled at her, and Angel drew her aside and mumbled:
You may not want to provoke him.
I thought Harry said the Laexara were benign, she breathed. The demon's attitude had frightened her a little.
Oh yes, they're benign. They have nothing against humans. However, they *are* warriors, and they are well known for their short temper. Okay? He let go of her with a smile.
Ord looked around and asked:
Are the humans coming, too?
Not all of us, Buffy said. However, since I'm the Slayer and Wesley here is the one who knows the spell best, you are going to hand us over as a present to the leaders. You know, just to show your appreciation that you're allowed to join them.
**********
This is not usually how people join us, the camp leader said, but he viewed the five applicants in a rather appreciative way, and setting his eyes on the two human gifts, he almost folded.
How did you say you got here? he asked.
I have learned a lot from a demon called Elil, the vampire said. The camp leader nodded, he knew the name. Since Elil is dead and can no longer help me, I had to search further. I found information that lead me from his place to yours.
That was a plausible explanation. The camp leader nodded pensively.
Alright then. Welcome, and thank you very much for your gifts. We will take proper care of them before you start your education.
A bunch of demons grabbed Buffy and Wesley and dragged them off into different directions. Buffy let herself be dragged through damp corridors until she decided that she had waited long enough. Quickly and rather quietly she repeated the spell that Wesley had taught her.
What did you say? one of her guards asked her and shook her a bit.
I said, you're a bunch of fine morons, Buffy said. This was it. If the spell didn't work she was dead meat. I mean, why even bother to give me away as some sacrifice or whatever you guys are doing? You could just eat me yourself, here and now.
Hey, that's not a bad idea, a demon said.
Shut up, Gard, you know our orders, another snapped.
A third one entered the conversation. Only idiots like you let yourself be ordered around. I do as I like.
The spell had worked perfectly, and Buffy could easily run off into the corridor once her guards started to really hit it off with the fighting. The first one she ran into was Wesley.
I see it worked for you too, she said.
The Englishman smiled a little.
Yes. I told them they had to take me back, but since some of them thought it was a good idea and others thought it was a bad one, I offered to go myself. They were still arguing on whether or not they should let me do that when I took off.
Buffy laughed at this. Wesley usually wasn't much to hold onto in a thunderstorm, but any company felt good at the moment, and the fact that their defence actually worked felt even better.
A big lumber door led to a yard were hundreds of demons were working on drills. Or that's what they were supposed to be doing. There were already uneasy voices, and the humans could spot Haren in the middle of the group. He had sat down on the ground and refused to move.
I'm tired, he declared, and I'm not in the mood for this.
Several of the other demons yelled their agreement and sat down as well. The leader grabbed a whip of the kind called nine-tailed cat. This made Haren rise and growl at the leader. When he stood up, his eyes met Buffy's, and he grinned at her. None of the other demons noticed the humans, they were far to upset.
Come on, you ninny! Haren said to the leader. What sort of a coward are you? Can't you get into a proper fight, demon to demon?
the leader yelled. He was as affected by the spell as anyone else, and he longed to show this snotty Laexara who was in charge. The fight didn't last long. Within seconds, Haren had ripped his head off.
Buffy cried. This caught the other demons' attention, and they turned disbelievingly towards the humans. Haren, we *told* you not to kill if you could avoid it.
Oh. Right. The demon looked a bit guilty. Then he noticed the looks the other demons gave the humans, and he held up the leader's head. Anybody want some?
A massive roar of I do! answer his request, and he casually threw them the head.
That will keep them busy for a while, he said to the humans. I'm sorry about the killing, I forgot. Shall we find the others?
When all seven of them had found their way back to each other, they shared a few laughs retelling their stories. However, they all had a feeling this was only helping marginally.
We were thinking, Ord said. It will take the cult some time to get this mess sorted out, but not very long.
I know, Angel said. There's just nothing more we can do right now.
Yes there is, Halvor said, and he sounded very grave. The four of us could stay here and keep using the spell on everyone who comes here. With the mess around here, nobody will notice that we don't belong here, and we will be able to cause quite a lot of trouble before anyone finds out.
It wasn't a bad idea, but good Lord, how dangerous! Angel hesitated.
They'll find out sooner or later, he warned them.
Hopefully, we will be able to escape. And in any case, it might buy you enough time to do something about the altar.
Angel looked at the four demons. Are you all sure about this?
They nodded, and after a moment's thought he agreed.
Alright then. Good luck, and thank you for your help.
The goodbyes were sombre, they all knew they might never meet again. When Ord took Angel's hand, he squeezed it hard and said:
Speaking for all of us, it has been an honour to work with you.
You too, Angel replied. Try to stay alive, will you?
**********
After the first day of practice, Doyle had been shown into a bedroom that contained quite a few bookshelves but no other personal things, unless you counted a model of a bird sceleton. He was surprised at his own tiredness. Most of the work that hadn't been pure discussions could mostly be described as meditation tecniques, and that sort of stuff was supposed to be relaxing, wasn't it? Instead, the welcoming softness of his bed made Doyle drift away.
Before he had fallen asleep completely, he heard a low, strange sound. It was a lot like a little motor, but Doyle drowsingly knew that it wasn't, and that he ought to know what it was. Something carefully trodded over him, and a pair of yellow eyes showed up by his face. He couldn't help but give a startled cry before he realised that it was only an ugly old tomcat.
Hiya, mate, he said, this your bed? How about we just share it for the night, okay?
The cat walked around in a circle and finally lay down next to Doyle, who quickly fell asleep.
When he woke up the next morning and moved his hand about on the pillow, he felt something wet and sticky. He opened his eyes and realised that it was blood. Rushing out of bed, he went into the kitchen and informed Wilma, who was making coffee, that there was a dead bird on his pillow.
Well, you had better thank Fluffy then, she said. He must really like you.
Doyle stared at the cat, who purred and stroke his head along Doyle's legs. It was apparently an old fighter, because his fur was leathery and scarred.
he asked, and Wilma smiled a little.
Old women are supposed to call their cats Fluffy, whether they are fluffy or not. She poured him a cup of coffee. My youngest granddaughter Janie might be coming this afternoon, if you don't mind having a giggly teenager in the house.
Of course not, he answered. But what about well, does she know that I'm here?
Wilma shook her head, and then, catching Doyle's glance, added: She *has* met demons before.
Doyle didn't push the issue, although he didn't like the thought of showing himself like this. Still, since the faith stuff was so demanding, he forgot all about it until later that day when the doorbell rang. Doyle winced, and as Wilma went to answer it, he sank deep into the sofa, cursing the thought of some kid rushing in and staring at him.
Wilma opened the front door and took in the sight of the two girls outside. The fact that there was one more grandchild than expected outside didn't bother her, she was lucky all five of them didn't decide to come.
Hi Granny! Kitty said. She slurred a little, not sounding drunk, but as if there was hot food in her mouth. I thought I'd go with Janie.
Well, you're very welcome, Wilma replied, and then asked, with a frown: Why are you talking so strange?
Kitty proudly extracted her tongue, and Wilma gave a disgusted cry.
Good Lord! Is there any part of your body you're *not* going to shove metal through?
Not really Kitty said dreamily, which made her sister laugh.
She's insane, Janie explained and proceeded towards the livingroom. We thought we might watch some videos, is that okay?
Well, I have a client, but I guess we can be in the kitchen.
Yes Alf, go into the kitchen, Kitty said.
Janie had already discovered Doyle.
she said, a little surprised maybe to find a demon in her grandmother's livingroom, but not very much so.
, Doyle said and extracted his hand, trying to act casual. I'm Doyle.
She took it. Janie Kincaid. Her clothes were nice but discreet in grey and black, and with the rye blonde hair and grey eyes, she seemed a little colourless.
Yet she looked a lot better than her sister, who had also entered the room. Kitty's checked man's shirt and worn blue jeans were average for a certain style, but her hairdo was most definitely not: her head was shaved at the sides and the hair that was left was dyed black and made into tiny braids. Doyle looked at the chain that went from her nose to her ear and wondered why any girl would want to do that to herself. Rebellion? But she didn't seem like that kind of girl. Mislead ideas of beauty, probably.
Centerfold demon, Janie said to her sister.
Kitty blushed. Brachen. Yeah. She shook Doyle's hand and said her name, then added: I have a picture of a Brachen in my room, but it's *not* a centerfold, it's an old drawing.
Oh yes, Janie said and flung herself into the sofa. I didn't mean to imply that you're a sex object or anything, she told Doyle. The only guys she likes are Cary Grant and a muppet-lookalike.
Oh. Oh, Kitty said, pretending to be upset. Well, at least *my* boyfriend doesn't wear a dress.
Janie took a cushion and threw at her. Doyle's eyes met Wilma's, and the old lady just shook her head and said:
Two giggly teenagers. Why don't we just move into the kitchen and let them watch their videos. Although why you can't do that at home is more than I understand.
Mom won't let us, Janie said. Not since last week, when mrs Carter came while we were watching Star Trek: Voyager.
Episode Blood Fever, Kitty said. We were a little loud.
Oh, right, Wilma said. Tineke told me about that. Shouting undecent things, weren't you?
We just said 'bonk her', Janie mumbled with a smile.
Hm. What are you watching today?
Press Gang. No sex whatsoever. And don't worry, we're meeting Clifford and the bunch tonight, so we'll only stay until supper.
, Wilma said. I'll give you some soda to play drinking games with, but I'd appreciate it if you keep your voices down.
Thanks, Granny. And for what it's worth, the L word.
Wilma stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, then shook her head and went inside.
Do they do this a lot? Doyle asked her.
My house is a complete hallway for every relative around, Wilma said. That I don't mind. But I don't like the tendency those two have of speaking in quotes.
**********
Doyle sat down by the kitchen table and waited for Wilma to get started. He was a little surprised at the girls' behavior. For most of the time they had ignored him completely, and funny enough, that felt good. He wasn't weird enough for them to cause any attention.
Wilma looked thoroughly at him.
I think we have a bit of a problem, she said.
He felt a bit of panic rising.
Do you remember what I said about shapeshifting? That first you have to acknowledge the shape you're in, then change it. We have been working on part two, but maybe we shouldn't have. By the look of it, I would say you haven't gotten past the acknowledgement part yet.
Well, if I liked being a demon I wouldn't be here, would I? he snapped.
Quite a few demons who liked themselves have come here for practical reasons, she said calmly. Listen, I'm not saying you have to prefer this shape, but you can't be ashamed of it. Then you will block yourself completely.
Doyle felt tears burning in his eyes. What am I supposed to do then? he asked bitterly.
She took his hand, smiling. Don't you worry, there are methods for this as well. I'll turn into a sappy therapist for a while, though.
He nodded his consent.
Okay. Now, which part of yourself do you like the least?
I don't know, he said. I don't much like any part.
Fine, then we'll start with the face. That's a part that gets a lot of attention, let's give it some more. She walked to a cupboard and brought forward a mirror, a notebook and a pencil, all of which she handed to Doyle.
Look into the mirror carefully, she said, and make a drawing of yourself. Not a caricature, a detailed drawing, and if you make something uglier or prettier than it is, don't think I won't make you change it. Is that clear?

It wasn't a very pleasant task, and it took forever with Wilma on his back making him change the picture over and over again, but finally they came to a point where Wilma's comments were fewer and nicer. Doyle actually started enjoying what he was doing, and his wish to do a good job made him glance into the mirror without much emotion.
The phone rang and Wilma took it.
Romanoff. Oh, hello Tineke! What? Her face darkened as she listened. She did what!? No, I didn't teach her to do that! I would never Alright, so that part I might have encouraged, but I never told her she could do it in public This isn't a game, I'm as upset as you are Well, of course I will punish her Sounds good. Bye.
Wilma hung up and went inside the living room, shouting:
Jane Brittany Kincaid, you're in deep trouble!
The girls looked up from the TV, and by the look on Janie's face, she knew exactly what the problem was.
That was your mother calling, informing me that you had put on a rather remarkable act in school today. Not only were you levitating, but producing stigmata as well. Can you deny that?
No, granny, the girl admitted.
Well, I am disappointed in you. I thought you were aware of your responsibilities, but it appears I was wrong. First, you are not to use magic where people can see you, you know that. Second, and more importantly, stigmata are *not* acceptable, ever. Saints got stigmata when they felt cloe to their suffering Lord, and by producing them for fun you are making fun of other people's beliefs. I will have none of it!
Okay granny, Janie said reluctantly. Wilma thought for a while, then took a book from a shelf.
Now, to make you realize that religious suffering isn't funny, I want you to read this.
Janie looked at the title. Perpetua's martyrdom? Granny, you can't be serious!
Go into my bedroom, read it, and when you're finished I will question you of its contents. Also, you are grounded for the rest of the day, which means you'll be sleeping in the vamp room tonight. Is that clear?
Janie tried to meet her grandmother's eyes, but failed.
Yes granny.
**********