Tuesday 8am

            Gavin Park snapped his mobile closed with a satisfied smile, and added a short note to the report on his desk before closing the folder and locking it in the drawer of his desk.  He loved keeping tabs on Lilah's projects, especially when information reached him first. And especially when that information could be pivotal to her success … or failure. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunnydale

Tuesday, 9 am

            "Dear God," Giles breathed, wondering what on earth was going to go wrong next. He took notes as he listened to Cordelia, who had phoned as usual to bring him up to date on developments in LA.  Since the slayer's disappearance, both teams had maintained close contact.  Giles had begun to question the decision to tell Angel, since that knowledge had somehow obviously endangered the vampire and his colleagues as well. They were still looking for the link.

            "There's something else," Cordelia added. "I had a vision."

            Giles was now accustomed to this new addition to the former cheerleader's talents, although he'd been sceptical at first.  He waited, trusting Cordelia to tell him the relevant facts.

            "Yes, thank you, the blackout-inducing pain has subsided," she said cuttingly.

            "Oh, s-sorry," Giles flustered. "Of course. I didn't think. You're alright?"

            "I'll survive," Cordelia sighed. "But man, they …"

            "Cordelia, the vision?" the Watcher prompted. "I don't mean to be rude, but these are difficult times."

            "They sure are," the girl agreed testily. She paused, obviously composing herself. "But bickering with you isn't going to solve anything," she sighed. "This vision was bad – I mean, it was scary. It's still a bit jumbled, but I got a good look at a particular demon, and Wesley thinks it sounds like the one Dawn described.  Huge, ugly, scaly … Angel's working on a sketch – I'll scan it in and send it …"

            "How is he?" Giles interrupted, concern for the vampire compounded by the fact that he was the main protector of the LA team.

            "Improving, but pretty weak.  After this morning's little visit, it's a wonder he's still … well, not breathing obviously … but he's doing okay. Anyway, this demon I saw – I got some scenery with him, but it's nowhere I wanna go.  All purple and dark and don't even start on the weather!  Oh, and Buffy."

            "Buffy?" Giles' heart leapt to his throat.

            "She was there," Cordelia told him, "but kind of … not.  It's difficult to explain, I don't get a whole lot of vision.  Thank god.  I could see her, but kind of like through a veil, a thick cheap veil like they do in Sears, not the gossamer …"

            "Cordelia?"

            "Yes?"

            "You saw Buffy? Is she alright?"

            "I think so," Cordelia answered, struggling to recall details. "She was with the demon, but not outside. It …"

            "With the demon?" Giles could feel his irritation growing: Cordelia had never been as precise a reporter of facts as he would have liked.

            "Yeah, in some kind of room. Brick walls. I think they were bricks."

            "But she's alright?" he pressed, rubbing his forehead and feeling a fine sheen of perspiration at his hairline.

            "Yes, as far as I can tell," came the answer. "I didn't get any scary mojo that she was in immediate danger."

            Relieved, Giles listened to the rest of Cordelia's account without interruption, jotting notes on the pad beside his phone.  He then phoned Willow, and asked her to swing by as soon as she could, so that Angel's scanned sketch could be downloaded on the computer and they could start trying to identify the demon.  He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of this before: they'd been working on verbal descriptions from Dawn and Spike, recounted immediately after the portal incident and no doubt fuelled with emotions.  Each time since then that they'd tried to confirm a physical feature, there had been a slight variation, and the search was becoming more and more frustrating.  Using Angel's artistic talents – not to mention his extensive knowledge of demon physiology – would produce a far more accurate description, and something tangible to use as a counter-check.

            He'd barely replaced the receiver after talking to Willow, when the phone rang again.

            "Me again," Cordelia said before he could utter a sound. "I just remembered the other bit of the oh-so-charming vision.  A huge bunch of keys, big heavy looking things. In a vault or safe or something like that. But I don't think it was the same place, you know, where Buffy and Demon-zilla are – this was more modern, like in a bank.  But there's some connection, I feel they're connected somehow."

            "Have you mentioned this to Wesley?" Giles asked excitedly, then remembered the former Watcher was still in hospital.  "Or, or Angel?"

            "No, like I said – I just remembered it.  What's with the hyper? Is it a major clue?"

            "It seems to confirm, or, at least, suggest the accuracy of, Wesley's translation of a key or guide to the demon dimension," Giles suggested, hoping he wasn't clutching at straws.  "Try to recall more details of the vault – it could be very important.  Perhaps you should work on this with Wesley, as soon as he's fit, and Angel. If we can find this key, it should help us locate a portal to bring Buffy home."

            "No pressure, huh?" Cordelia sighed.

            "It's not just about bringing her back," Giles reminded her gently. "The fact that you and the others are under similar attacks there, and your vision is linked to events here, seems to show that some force is working against us all, knowing our connections.  If we identify the location of the key – and possibly its keeper – we may learn what this is all about.  And with that knowledge, defeat it."

            "You are way too sensible for this time of day," Cordelia stated bluntly. "But I'll tell the guys what you said."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Buffy stood with her hands on her hips, regarding the giant demon with her head cocked to one side.  It knelt before her, clutching what she assumed to be its stomach, making a soft 'har-har-har' noise through its fang-filled lips.

            "Okay," she said, annoyance giving her a sudden confidence, "and you thought that was funny because …?"

            She didn't expect an answer, or at least any kind of answer that she would understand.  Its language was almost completely vowel-based and made no sense to her at all. 'This being a demon dimension and all,' she thought, justifying her lack of communication skills.  But its soft laughter was really getting on her nerves. 

They'd been fighting for what seemed like hours – hard hand-to-hand combat, no weapons – and Buffy had at one point wondered if this was the first in a series of 'test the slayer' events they had lined up for her. In which case, she so needed to get out of there. Now she looked at her opponent, driven to his knees by her last solid kick to its mid-section, and wondered what was coming next.  She glanced at the door, half-expecting a replacement to burst in, but it was still closed.

"Har-har-har," the demon said again, but this time there was gurgling in its voice and specks of liquid sputtered from its lips.  A large fleck reached Buffy's bare arm and she hastily wiped it away, rubbing her hand on her trousers to get rid of it.  The sticky ichor left a burning itching sensation on her arm, but she tried to ignore it.

Buffy was about to mouth a disgusted 'eeeew' when the demon suddenly keeled over on its side, and a thick grey slime oozed from its mouth into the sand.

"Okay," Buffy decided, "definitely 'eeeew' and also, 'yay me!'"

            She waited, giving the demon time to recuperate or reanimate or whatever totally unreasonable thing it might do to make life worse than it already was, but it didn't move.  And it definitely wasn't breathing.

            "Okay," she said, stepping around it carefully, "demon with a weak stomach – who'd have thought?"

            She tried the door, and was surprised when it began to open without resistance.  Knowing that it creaked loudly on its leather-like hinges, she pulled it slowly, inching it gently from its frame until there was a gap wide enough for her to peep through.  The corridor was empty – at least the vertical slice that she could see was – and she risked pulling the door a little more.  It groaned like a horror-film sound effect, and Buffy froze.  With a quick glance at the prone demon behind her to check he was still dead, or at least not a threat, she peeped out at the corridor again.  She could see a little further, and it was still empty. 

            Deciding on the 'all or nothing' approach, she yanked the door wider – cringing at its loud squeak – then stepped out of the cell.  Quickly checking the corridor in both directions, she spotted steps off to her right and ran for them.  They led upwards into darkness, but she took them two at a time, slowing only when the lack of light made her hold her hands out in front of her in case she hit something solid. 

Feeling her way as quickly as she could, she finally felt a wall of damp wood before her and moved her hands across its surface in search of a handle.  Ripping a nail on a flat metallic bar, she cursed silently and pulled at it, trying to lever it up, down or sideways, but it wouldn't move.  In frustration she thumped it with the outside of her balled fist, and the door moved away from her, silently opening a few inches.

Cold air washed over her and if it hadn't smelled so disgusting she'd have breathed it in thankfully.  Aware that the draft could alert a being beyond the foot of the stairs, Buffy pushed at the door and threw herself outside, quickly leaning back against it to push it shut.  Rain-filled wind whipped at her, and she shivered, rubbing her bare arms to banish the goose bumps. 

The landscape before her was covered in a dark purple carpet of thick spongy grass, interspersed with jagged grey rocky outcrops.  In the distance, steep mountains of black rock rose into the dark sky, which mirrored the shades on the ground.  Thunder crashed among the thick dirty clouds, and the lightning was so constant there seemed little need for sun or moon.  If there had been any.

Leaning against the door, Buffy scanned her surroundings, looking for shelter.  One of the rocky outcrops looked like it had a cave cut into it, but she was reluctant to try it: who knew what lurked in those shadows?  Shivering in the wind and rain, she followed the wall of the building she'd escaped from, easing herself carefully around the corner and along the next wall until she reached the third side.  Then she carefully made her way forward until she could check out the fourth side. The surrounding landscape was identical in all directions, and no other buildings were in sight.  Realising she would have to choose a cave in one of the rocky outcrops, she simply ran for the nearest one, long strides carrying her the forty yards or so across the very strange grass which seemed to squeak under her weight.

Not daring to hesitate, she ran into the cave's mouth, stopping abruptly the moment she felt she could not be seen from outside.  The inside was damp and so dark she couldn't see beyond her nose, but her spidey senses had stopped tingling so she relaxed and concentrated on getting her breath back.  With a sigh, she carefully sat down on the stone floor, grimacing as the cold wet surface created a damp patch that would probably be impossible to wash out, and stared out at the storm.  She could see the high stone building from which she'd escaped, but no-one came rushing out to look for her.  Smiling in triumph, Buffy wrinkled her nose as the stench from outside the cave crept into her nostrils.  Then she passed out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~