Chapter 3
Research was nothing new to Tara, and the hours in the Magic Box seemed to pass quickly. Periodically, customers would come in and be served by either Anya or Giles, and Buffy got restless and went to work out for a half-hour after lunch. Other than that, it was strictly research.
At about 3:00, Dawn came bursting in the door. Buffy's inquiry as to how her day went led to a detailed account of the implosion of the Kevin James/Annie Padget/Keegan Troy love triangle in the middle of the Quad at lunchtime, the revelation that approximately 60% of the school's population believed the band teacher, Mr. Cross, smoked pot in his office, the fact that Dawn believed there was either a slime demon inhabiting E hall or something had gone terribly wrong in Mr. Howell's Chemistry class, and that Jordan Myers, "serious hottie," had told Dawn she looked like "that chick from Smallville." Tara was amazed at how Dawn managed to get all this information into one long sentence.
"So what's been going on here?" asked the teen after she finally took a breath.
"Researching portals," answered Buffy.
Dawn's eyes went wide. "Nothing that needs a Key, I hope."
"Definitely not," said Giles. "This portal closes of its own accord, but is unstable enough that the use of any magic around it can cause it to open again—as happened when Tara used a spell to set some vampires on fire. Unfortunately, that's about all we know at this point."
Dawn plopped down at the table between Willow and Xander, wriggling out of her backpack. "Can I help?"
"What's the homework situation?" Buffy asked.
"Not bad. Five Geometry problems, a chapter of U.S. History, and I've got to pick a poet to profile for English."
"Ooh! Do Sylvia Plath," said Willow, lighting up. "I've got some books on her at home. She led a fascinating life, in a depressing, killed-herself kinda way."
"Cool." Dawn wrote something down in her English notebook. "Maybe you can help me with my math, too."
"Hey, if it's Geometry, ask Carpenter Man," Xander said. "I use it to make money."
"Great. I didn't quite understand some of the stuff about volume . . ."
Tara found her attention divided between the codex she was reading and Dawn's homework session. Xander was using construction analogies to help Dawn understand how geometry worked, and Willow was helping her with the equations.
"You okay?" The softly-spoken question came from Buffy.
Tara shook herself. "I'm okay. It's just . . ." She looked at Willow, Dawn, and Xander. "It's strange, is all."
Buffy followed her gaze and her thoughts. "I can imagine."
They continued to research, eventually joined by Dawn when her homework was completed. Finally, Buffy glanced out the shop windows at the deepening evening. "Think I'll go take a patrol. It's about time for the vamps to start stirring."
"I could go with," volunteered Tara. "I'm used to patrolling, and honestly, I'm getting stir-crazy."
Buffy cocked her head, considering. "Sure." Buffy grabbed her jacket. "Think I'll see if I can roust out Clem, get the scoop on what the demons are saying. Maybe they've gotten wind of all this Order of Aurelius crap. I've got my cell phone; call me if you guys find anything else out. Ready to go, Tara?"
"Ready." The blond witch left with Buffy, and the two headed toward the Edna Mae Wilkins Memorial Cemetery.
Buffy felt a moment of hesitancy as she approached Spike's crypt. Always, she expected to see him either inside or exiting. But she hadn't seen him since . . . that night. His absence both worried and relieved her. Worried, because the specter of him getting the chip out of his head and coming back to Sunnydale to get some of his own back was ever-present in her mind. Relieved, because the longer he stayed away, the longer she could avoid dealing with him and her own mixed-up emotions about him.
Normally these days, Clem would have greeted her cheerfully when she knocked and called. This time, there was no answer from within the crypt. Carefully, the Slayer opened the door.
"HE'S NOT HERE!"
The panicky, shouted words had Buffy in an instant defensive stance before she even located their source. Tara was right there with her, calling for light. A soft radiance filled the crypt, and Buffy located a quaking lump of fabric against one wall. The crypt had been thoroughly ransacked.
"Clem?" Buffy asked. The lump slowly lifted its head, revealing a bruised and battered demon.
"Oh, Slayer, it's you!" Clem breathed out a sigh of relief. "You wouldn't believe what I've been through."
"It's a demon," noted Tara with some disapproval.
"Clem's harmless; don't worry. He gives me information sometimes." Buffy stepped over to Clem. "You look awful. Who did this?"
"Search me." Clem sounded on the verge of tears. "They said they were looking for Spike the Heretic, which I thought was kinda weird on account of Spike's never been into religion, if you get what I mean. That and they said something about a remainder, or a--"
"Remnant?" supplied Buffy.
"That's exactly it. They said they were the Remnant, and Spike had to die for his betrayal."
Buffy sighed and helped Clem to his feet and over to the couch. "First Angel, now Spike. This is not good," she said.
"Who's Spike?" asked Tara.
Clem noticed her then. "Say, didn't you die?" he asked. "Not that I mean to pry or anything. It's your business. Forget I asked."
"This is . . ." Buffy sighed. "A different Tara. Long story. Tara, Spike's the vampire who used to live here. He helped us out sometimes. There was a microchip in his brain that kept him from eating humans. Another long story."
Tara shook her head. "This world is really, really different."
"Anyway," Buffy went on, "the important thing is that Spike is descended from Angel, which I guess makes him another member of the Order of Aurelius. I guess they think he's a traitor, too. Clem, have you heard anything unusual from the vampires lately?"
"You know, come to think of it, I remember Davey talking about it at the poker game last Wednesday. He said something about a bunch of vampires getting all nostalgic for the Master and wanting to start up the Order of Aurelius again. You don't think they will, do you? 'Cause I kinda think of Sunnydale as a nice town, good place to raise a family, but that bunch—whoo, if they come back, there goes the neighborhood! Nasty element."
Buffy patted his back. "Well, we're going stop it. Do you remember anything else?"
Clem thought. "Just one thing. This vampiress who led the others in, she was a real meanie. One of them called her Adrienne, I think. Long, curly brown hair. Kinda pretty, actually. I'll bet she conditions. She was wearing white, too. I remember that—dressed all in white."
Buffy thanked him, set the TV upright, and left the shaken demon with a glass of Kool-Aid and a Highlander marathon on FX. She and Tara left.
Tara had been wearing a puzzled expression since Clem had told them about Adrienne. "You know what? I remember that the Master had a lieutenant named Adrienne in our world. Pretty deadly, looked like a Botticelli wet dream. Faith dusted her, though."
"Know anything especially special about her?" asked Buffy.
Tara shook her head. "Nothing that'd help, I don't think."
Buffy pulled out her cell phone and started to dial. "I'm calling Angel," she explained. "He might know Adrienne, and—hello, Cordy? This is Buffy. Can I talk to Angel? Thanks . . . Angel? We've been doing some digging here, and I came up with a name. A female vampire named Adrienne, long, curly brown hair, dressed all in white. Sound familiar? Okay. Okay. Uh-huh. Yeah. Oh . . . no, that doesn't sound good. Okay, thanks a bunch. We'll keep an eye out. Any more problems there? That sounds all ouchy . . . well, saves me the trouble of staking 'em. Take care, okay? 'Bye, Angel." Buffy clicked off, then dialed again.
"Hey, Giles," she said as the phone was apparently answered. "Just dropped by Spike's old crypt. Clem got roughed up by some vampires looking for Spike. Well, looking to stake Spike; seems they think he's a traitor to the Order, too. Anyway, Clem said one of them was a female named Adrienne. I just called Angel, and he said she's a dangerous one. She's actually just a few years younger than he is, and she was turned by Darla. He says she was one of the higher-ups in the Order when he left—and that was over a century ago. She usually travels with a male named Paulo who looks like a teenaged boy, probably because he was turned when he was sixteen. That help?" Buffy sighed. "Yeah, this is just getting better and better. I hate to say it, but it looks like our working theory is turning into fact real quick. Let the others know. Tara and I will be back after we finish our sweep, okay?"
Clicking off, Buffy looked at Tara. "You catch all that?"
Tara nodded. "Most of it."
"Good. 'Cause there's vampires to kill." Buffy pointed over to a cluster of dark-clad figures gathered around a grave.
"I'll go with that," said Tara, and the two headed over.
The vampires around the grave noticed the two young women before long, and two of them turned to meet Buffy and Tara. One charged heedlessly at Buffy, who barely broke her stride to stake him, and the second rapidly back-pedaled and ran away. A few of the remaining vamps hesitated.
"Incente!" Flames leaped from Tara's fingers and consumed the vampires. As they did so, Buffy looked at Tara's face. It disturbed her. The gentle, sweet Tara Buffy had known and loved was nowhere to be seen in the stony glare of the woman beside her. There was also something else, too—a dark kind of satisfaction that played over Tara's face as the vampires screamed and were reduced to ash.
"Careful with the fire," was all Buffy said.
"Why?" Tara shrugged. "It dusts them as well as anything else."
But it gives me the willies, Buffy thought. She chose not to speak that aloud, saying instead, "Yeah, but it's been dry lately and we don't want the whole town going up in smoke."
"Oh. That makes sense. In my Sunnydale, burning shrubbery is the least of our worries." Tara watched as Buffy stepped up to the grave. "Is one going to rise here?"
"That's my guess," said the Slayer. "The other vampires here were waiting for somebody, and my guess is it was Alicia Jane Carter, 1984-2002."
A few minutes passed, and suddenly, the earth covering the grave swelled and broke. A woman's bloodied hand burst through, followed swiftly by the rest of her body. She was young and pretty, with blond hair cascading down her back and over her black dress. Somewhat to Tara's surprise, she wasn't in vamp-face. Instead, she just looked confused and lost.
Buffy stepped forward and calmly staked the girl though her heart as she was struggling free of her grave. The Slayer was looking into the fledgling vampire's eyes as she dissolved into dust.
"Rest in peace, Alicia," Buffy murmured.
Tara was staring at her. When Buffy finally returned her gaze, Tara asked incredulously, "You feel sorry for them?"
"The fledglings, yeah," acknowledged Buffy. "Wasn't so long ago I had to claw my way out of my own grave. It's fairly traumatic. No wonder they're all in such bad moods when they first rise."
"But they're vampires," Tara protested. "Don't you think it's a weakness to have compassion for them?"
Buffy met her gaze steadily. "They've got to be killed, and I do that. But I do feel sorry for Alicia, whoever she was. Either she was turned against her will, or something was so wrong with her life that she wanted to be turned." Buffy shrugged. "Either way, I figure it's doing her a favor to kill the demon wearing her face before it does any damage."
Tara shifted her stance, crossing her arms. "If that's true, why do you buddy up to demons and vampires?"
"I don't."
"No? What about the two you told me about, Angel and Spike? What about that Clem thing? And Anya?"
"Angel and Spike are very unusual cases," Buffy explained. "And even then, I learned a hard lesson with Spike. As for Clem, he's harmless. I even had Giles look up his breed—they haven't caused any problems since the 12th century, and they're dying out anyway. No harm, no foul. Same goes for Anya. She helps us, she doesn't kill the men she curses, I've got no problems."
Tara wasn't convinced. "In my world, we just kill demons. We don't get to know them."
"In your world, you're at war. In my world, I'm just trying to keep Sunnydale safe. All the demons here know that if they start doing the hurt-maim-kill thing, the Slayer and her friends will hunt them down and kill them. If they keep quiet and don't kill humans, they've got a chance. I don't want an all-out war where innocents get caught in the crossfire, and for the most part, I don't have one."
"What if some of your harmless demons turn out to be not-so-harmless?" Tara asked.
Buffy shrugged. "I kill them when I find out."
"And the people they kill in the meantime?"
Buffy looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath. "Look, I have to do what I believe is right. What I believe will keep the most people alive and able to live semi-normal lives. This is what I've chosen. For the most part, it works. When it doesn't . . . I bleed for the people who die, I do. But I've got to consider the ones that are alive. There are no easy answers, as much as I'd like them. Humans kill humans in this town too, sometimes, and I can't do anything about them. I just fight my battles the best way I know how."
Tara was silent for a long moment, but seemed to accept this. "We should probably finish our patrol."
They moved on. The patrol was fairly un-dramatic as patrols go. They staked several more fledglings, Buffy broke the neck of a Korvah demon that was sneaking up on a couple making out in the park (they never noticed), and the Slayer and the witch combined forces to deal with a flat-out nasty Reticulated Dybbuk as it slithered out of the sewers. Just as they decided to head back to the Magic Box, something caught Buffy's eye.
"Hold up," she told Tara.
"What is it?" whispered the witch.
"I just saw a tall woman all in white. Could be Adrienne." Buffy moved toward the alley she thought she'd seen the woman enter, motioning Tara to come with her. A moment later, a scream had the Slayer sprinting full-speed into the alley.
When Tara caught up, Buffy was standing a few feet away from Adrienne. She was indeed tall, standing a full head—and some to spare—over the Slayer. Botticelli curls cascaded down her back, dark against the pure white of her shirt and pants. Tara guessed the whole ensemble was linen. The vampiress was holding onto a girl of perhaps sixteen or seventeen who didn't seem to be injured, but was petrified with fear.
"You know," said Buffy casually, "you really shouldn't bite her, 'cause unless you're a really neat eater, the dry-cleaning bill's gonna be a bitch. Trust me, blood and linen just don't mix."
Adrienne smiled. "The Slayer. How perfect. And I see you brought a friend." Her eyes flicked to Tara. "Lovely to meet you both. As for this sweet little morsel . . ." She sniffed the teenaged girl in her grasp. "I suppose she can wait. I don't expect any of the humans in this town will live long, so," she released the girl, "run away, little one. I'll eat you later." The girl bolted out the other side of the alley.
"Is your name Adrienne, by any chance?" Buffy asked, circling a little to her left.
"You've heard of me. I should be flattered, I suppose," Adrienne purred.
"Well, you are kind of a friend of a friend. Don't suppose you're the one who sent a bunch of vamps to kill Angel?" Adrienne's face betrayed a little surprise at that. "We chatted a little while ago. They're all dust, just so you know. Oh, and this little plot of yours to bring the Master back? Not so bright. Just FYI."
"What an arrogant little idiot you are," commented Adrienne. "If Angelus isn't dead already, he will be soon—now that my Master has returned."
"So he's already in town, huh?" Buffy nodded. "Thanks for the 411."
"My pleasure. Particularly as you'll never be able to pass it on." Adrienne's eyes darted past Buffy and Tara. Tara glanced over her shoulder.
Another vampire had entered the alley. He had an extraordinarily young, extraordinarily beautiful face. Black curls fell to his shoulders, framing deep, dark eyes, a sensitive, pouty mouth, and perfect cheekbones. Tara turned so she was back-to-back with Buffy.
"There's my boy," cooed Adrienne, advancing.
Tara started to lift her hand, but hesitated as she realized the alley was half-full of broken-down corrugated cardboard boxes. Flames would take out the vampires, yes, but getting scorched would do neither the witch nor the Slayer any good.
Her hesitation proved costly. She thought of casting a blindness spell on the young-looking vampire, but he was already upon her before she could speak a single word of the incantation. Tara could only duck as he hooked a punch at her head. She tried to back off quickly, but the vampire kept after her and landed a punch to her stomach. She doubled over and fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of her.
Adrienne faked a front kick to Buffy's chest, then turned it into a roundhouse kick at her head. Fortunately, Buffy knew this trick and caught Adrienne's ankle with her forearms, trapping it. She threw Adrienne's leg in the air and sent the vampire into a three-quarters flip, forcing her to land on her hands and knees.
Buffy pulled her stake and closed in for the kill, but Adrienne launched herself upward like a striking snake and slammed her fist into the underside of Buffy's jaw. Buffy reeled backwards, stunned, as Adrienne advanced on her.
The male vampire, meanwhile, lifted Tara up from the ground by her collar and held her body fast against his. He put his face to her neck and inhaled her scent.
"Mmm," he whispered into Tara's ear. "It looks like Paulo's getting a special treat tonight. You've got the Slayer's scent on you; it will almost be like eating the real thing."
He bared his fangs and pulled her neck to his open mouth. Then, through slitted eyes, he saw a dark shape come leaping over the top of dumpster at the end of the alley.
A sudden blow to the chin sent him sprawling, making him drop his prize in the process. He looked up from the ground at the one who had hit him.
"Who?" he snarled.
"You wanted the Slayer?" the figure said, stepping into a patch of light. "You got her."
Tara would have recognized her immediately as Amanda, the Slayer in her world. Amanda, all of sixteen years old, stood tall and defiant over her friend, her red hair seeming to burst into flame in the light. Blue eyes took in the vampire in front of her, sizing him up instinctually, ready for anything.
Paulo launched himself to his feet and threw a rapid combination of punches at Amanda. When he had forced her back into kicking range, he threw a hard side kick to her midsection that knocked her into the alley wall. She braced herself against it and, when Paulo advanced, she slammed a front kick into his abdomen. Paulo doubled over.
Amanda grabbed Paulo by the hair and slammed her elbow down on the base of his skull. Had Paulo been human, the blow would have broken his neck. As it was, he fell limply to the pavement, unable to move at all. Amanda pulled a stake from her jacket and raised it high.
Buffy closed on Adrienne and began pummeling her with a series of short kicks and rapid-fire punches. Just when Buffy thought she had the advantage, though, Adrienne suddenly jabbed her fingers into Buffy's throat, sending the Slayer into a coughing fit.
Then Adrienne looked to the side and saw Amanda standing over Paulo. Before Adrienne could do anything, Amanda slammed her stake down through Paulo's back and into his heart. The vampire collapsed into dust.
The gorgeous vampire stared into the space Paulo had occupied, inconsolable loss in her eyes. Those eyes found Amanda after a moment of stunned silence.
"You will die," Adrienne said faintly. Then she grabbed Buffy, who was still trying to get her breath, and hurled her into Amanda hard enough to knock both women to the ground. Adrienne turned and ran.
Buffy slid off of Amanda, doing her best not to bruise the girl further. She held out a hand.
"You Amanda, the Vampire Slayer?" Buffy asked, her voice raspy.
Amanda took her hand. "Yeah. Who're you?"
"I'm Buffy, the Slayer in this world. Alternate-universe thingy." The Slayers shook hands, with Amanda looking fairly bemused.
"Nice to meet you," the other Slayer said.
Tara sat up and groaned. Both Slayers turned their attention to her.
"You okay?" Buffy asked.
"Amanda!" called a familiar voice. The sound of footsteps running preceded Giles as he ran into the alley.
"Giles?" asked Buffy, confused. He wasn't wearing the same clothes he had been earlier, and there was a scar across his face he'd never had before.
"Giles," said Amanda.
"Giles!" cried Tara, hauling herself to her feet and running to hug him.
Buffy looked at Amanda. "You brought your Giles?"
Amanda looked back at her. "Do you have a Giles, too?"
"Amanda," said the Giles, "what's . . . wait a moment." He peered at Buffy's face. "Aren't you dead?"
"Occasionally," said Buffy.
"Giles, it's an alternate Sunnydale," explained Tara.
"Yes, that's what I'd guessed," said Giles.
Tara indicated Buffy. "She kept the Master from rising here. She killed him. Now, it looks like someone's trying to bring the Master—our Master—here so he can re-start the Order of Aurelius. At least that's what Giles—her Giles—thinks."
Amanda's head whipped around, and she focused her gaze on Buffy. "You killed the Master?"
"Had lots of help," demurred Buffy. "That and a really big piece of wood. Look, why don't we all go back to the Magic Box and see what Giles—my Giles—has to say before this gets even more confusing."
The other Giles looked into Buffy's face probingly. "That sounds like a good idea. Please, lead on."