"We're not even making a dent. Maybe it's time we move on."
Time stopped inside the cavernous warehouse. The normal everyday rustle of activity fell silent, leaving a huge chasm of tension. Eyes darted back and forth; no one wanted to move even their head in the charged ambience.
Othniel Hampton turned slowly, his eyes pinning the speaker like a bug on a cork board. "What did you say?"
Coyne licked his lips. "I said, we're not touching them. Maybe we should cut our losses and move on. His chest heaved as he struggled to meet his master's stare. Screwing his courage to the sticking point, Coyne continued. "Look at us. We're down to a handful. Between the Slayers and Trick's force we're getting our brains kicked in."
Hampton's lip curled and then he was in front of Coyne, his hand closed around his lieutenant's throat, squeezing. "All that keeps me from ripping out your throat now is your loyal service to me in times past." Coyne grimaced. Hampton opened his hand. Coyne staggered backward, his hand going to his gullet. Hampton spat on the floor.
And looked around at his followers. They were gaunt and spectral, hollow-eyed.... well, more hollow-eyed than usual, and there were markedly fewer of them. Hampton felt the skin tighten around his eyes. He turned back to Coyne and extended his hand.
"Forgive me," he said. "Zeal sometimes blinds me. We have suffered. But sometimes the just must suffer at the hands of the guilty. We cannot leave his sin unpunished."
"What sin is that?" Coyne asked. "I'm a little unclear about it."
"He stretched forth his hand against one of the anointed. His presumption is a foul stink in my nostrils. It cannot be ignored." Hampton turned his head to one side and stretched his neck like a man trying to work out a kink. "But you have a point. Frontal assault only depletes us. It is time to adopt a new tactic."
"What's that?" Coyne said, his hand drifting away from his neck.
"Give me a day." Hampton stalked away, then turned back to his flock. "I must reflect and purify myself. Then we will strike, and this blow shall be heavy."
Coyne watched his leader depart, then shook his head. "He's a spellbinder, I'll give him that."
***
Stefan Warner got up from the sofa in the teacher's lounge just as Giles was about to speak. "Just a minute," the history teacher/mystical knight said as he dragged a blue plastic chair from the round Formica table and wedged it under the doorknob.
"What on earth are you doing?" Giles asked.
"Call me crazy, but I'd really prefer that no one walk in on us during this conversation." Warner crossed the room and dropped back down on the couch. "Okay, what's up?"
Matti Hollis leaned against a counter, arms folded in front of her. "Mr. Giles called Gerard last night. He got a strange voice. Since I was at the school, he came to me. We spent a good chunk of the night burning up phone and modem lines and it seems that Gerard is officially missing."
Warner's eyes narrowed. "Missing?"
"Apparently the Watchers are having some sort of internal conflict." Hollis uncrossed her arms and rested her palms on the counter. "Seems some of them have turned up dead, others missing."
Warner frowned. "Organized?"
Hollis shrugged. "Would appear so."
Warner thought for a moment. "Some sort of demonic cult, maybe."
Giles shook his head. "No. The Council's headquarters is undisturbed. There's no general alert. It must be some sort of... coup or insurrection."
"Look, Mr. Giles, I don't want to be rude, but what makes you think they'd inform you of a general alert? You haven't been in the loop for a while, have you?" Warner raised an eyebrow.
Giles struggled to remain calm. "I know because I contacted the Council last night. None of the protocols were in effect, and even if I am somewhat persona non grata at the moment, I don't believe they would change them all on my account."
Warner grimaced. "I really wish you hadn't contacted them. We don't need attention directed our way."
Giles stood, walked over to the coffeepot and poured a cup of hot water from the carafe he'd placed on the warming pad. He took a tea bag from the box he kept in the cupboard and dropped it into the cup to steep, then turned back to the two teachers. "I don't think we'll be bothered by any attention, at least not for a while. The last matching of Watcher and Slayer was tampered with. Gerard sent me proof. This is... I cannot think of a greater offense. Whomever would do this..." Giles sipped his tea and shook his head. "It will mean civil war. I may be in some danger, but no more than any other Watcher who remains loyal to the traditions of our order."
"Nice speech," Warner said dryly. "You might get nominated for a People's Choice award."
"Very droll." Giles sipped again, savoring the moment. "I believe I may know something else that will hold your interest." He smiled slightly. "I know what the Mayor wants."
Hollis pushed herself away from the counter as Warner unfolded from the sofa. "Mr. Giles," he said, "I believe you have my complete attention."
The librarian looked from Hollis to Warner. "I'm telling you because I believe that we must work together. There can be no territorial squabbling, agreed?"
Warner shrugged. "You've got my vote." Hollis nodded.
Giles took a deep breath. "What do you know about the Seal of Solomon?"
"Wow." Hollis took a step back.
Warner rubbed the knuckles of one hand over his forehead. "Honestly, not that much, but we can put people to work on it."
"That would be best," Giles said. "I--"
The doorknob rattled. Warner pulled the chair away in one swift, smooth motion. He was already sitting in it when the door popped open and Principal Snyder stumbled in to the room. The short, bald man looked at the three teachers, all of whom stared at him.
"The, uh, the door must have stuck." Snyder drew himself up to his full but still negligible height and left the lounge.
***
"I saw him leave with them!" Willow was apoplectic. "I was coming out of the Chem lab and I saw Principal Snyder go into the teacher's lounge, and then he left and then Giles came out with Ms. Hollis and Mr. Warner."
Buffy made a skeptical face. "Will, do you think you might be going a little Taxi Driver about this whole thing?"
Willow shook her head. "No. Giles never blows off research, and now he's just hangin' out in the teacher's lounge with his compadres." She waved her arms in the air.
Buffy stifled a laugh. "Compadres? Okay, Will, you've shown intensity before, but now you're edging into Walken-in-Deer Hunter territory."
Willow winced. "It was cheesy, wasn't it?"
Buffy's eyes widened as she took her friend by the arm. "A little, yeah." She looked thoughtful. "Why do you suppose Giles is hanging around Ms. Hollis so much?" Her look changed to one of shock. "You don't suppose... they're... dating, do you?"
Willow shook her head. "He wouldn't..." She stopped and stared at the Slayer. "You don't think they could be, do you?"
Buffy shrugged. "It has been a while since..." Her voice faltered. "You know," she concluded lamely.
Willow's mouth puckered. "It's going to be the eight-hundred pound gorilla for a long time, isn't it?"
Buffy nodded. "Ooooohhh yeah."
***
Othniel Hampton's lanky frame stretched across the floor of the old supervisor's office. He had been here, face down, since leaving his flock. Not even his preferred method of mortifying the flesh was sufficient to inspire him. Coyne was right; they were truly in desperate straits. Trick sat in his fortress, untouchable, and killing his minions was not having any effect on him whatsoever.
Hampton raised his head. That could be the key. Yes, it could.
***
Willow slammed her locker, turned, and screamed. "Don't do that," she gasped, hand over her heart.
"What?" Tyler Pittman asked. "What'd I do?"
"Have you ever heard of personal space?" Willow asked, annoyed.
"No," he replied. "When do you want to do it again?"
"I already told you," Willow said as she turned and stalked away, "I don't want to do it again."
He stood by her locker, a puzzled look on his face as he watched her leave. He shook his head, turned and went the other way.
***
"Gee, I appreciate it, but I don't think you'd enjoy what I'm doing," Buffy said.
"Try me," Xander said. "And I mean that. Try me."
She shook her head. "Sorry. I'm going to see Angel, try and find out some stuff, then it's study, study, study. The down side to a surprisingly high SAT is increased maternal expectation." Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Why don't you patrol with Faith? She could probably use the help."
Xander shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could."
"Besides, I think having one of us around her kind of keeps her grounded, you know?"
Xander nodded. "Sure. That's me, the understanding, grounding guy. The eunuch."
Buffy frowned at him. "That's not what I meant." Her face softened. "You are one of the best guys I've ever met. How can being around you not be a good thing for her?"
Xander looked away in irritation. "I know you think that's a big compliment, but it makes me sound like a big safe puppy."
The Slayer smiled. "Which you kind of are."
"Don't say that! Do you know how that makes a guy feel?"
Buffy shook her head. "Gee, Xander, I guess you'll just have to get used to our respect and friendship." She gave him a quick hug. "So treat Faith nice."
"Geez," he muttered as she walked away, "I'd swap a little loved and respected for some feared and wanted."
***
Faith held up two fingers. Xander nodded, then squinted into the darkness. He could just make out the shadowy figures Faith had spotted. He followed her as she moved to flank them. Crouching behind a hedge, Faith pressed a stake into his hand and brought her lips to his ear.
"I'm going over. You go around and we hit 'em from two sides." He nodded and duck-walked to the end of the shrubbery. He looked back over his shoulder. Faith nodded, then vaulted over the hedge. Xander sprinted around the bushes, feet slipping on the wet grass, his vision bouncing. He caught fragmented glimpses of Faith and the vamps engaged in combat as he charged and then one of the vamps turned toward him.
"Oh shit," Xander said.
Having finally gained momentum, he was unable to slow down on the slick grass and that saved his life. The vampire was prepared for him to do the smart thing and pull up, but Xander barreled right into the flatfooted bloodsucker. Xander felt himself catapulted through the air as the demon kicked. The boy landed flat on his back but adrenaline helped him scramble to his feet. He rounded on the advancing vamp and swung his stake, but the creature caught his wrist and twisted. Xander yelled in pain as his arm was twisted in an unnatural way. A white-hot streak of pain shot through his shoulder. He felt the joint grinding and then blessed relief flooded through him. He staggered a few steps and turned. The vampire swung its arms wildly, trying to dislodge Faith. She'd jumped on its back and had both arms wrapped around its head. The vampire stumbled backwards and slammed into a tree. Faith's ribs creaked with the impact, but she held on. The creature repeated the process. Faith threw her head back and howled, "Dammit, get a new move!"
Xander stumbled forward, arm dangling. The vampire tried to ram Faith into the tree again but he missed and they tumbled over backwards. Xander arrived and did the only thing he could think of-he flopped down across the struggling vamp. Faith kicked at the demon's head, trying to free herself. She wriggled out from underneath him, pulled a stake and dusted the bloodsucker.
"Come on," she said, getting to her feet, "we're done here. It's time to party."
"I don't think I want to hit the Bronze," Xander said, rolling over onto his back and rotating his left arm slowly in order to see if the joint still worked correctly.
"I'm not talking about the Bronze," Faith replied as she picked up her stakes. "Come on."
Time stopped inside the cavernous warehouse. The normal everyday rustle of activity fell silent, leaving a huge chasm of tension. Eyes darted back and forth; no one wanted to move even their head in the charged ambience.
Othniel Hampton turned slowly, his eyes pinning the speaker like a bug on a cork board. "What did you say?"
Coyne licked his lips. "I said, we're not touching them. Maybe we should cut our losses and move on. His chest heaved as he struggled to meet his master's stare. Screwing his courage to the sticking point, Coyne continued. "Look at us. We're down to a handful. Between the Slayers and Trick's force we're getting our brains kicked in."
Hampton's lip curled and then he was in front of Coyne, his hand closed around his lieutenant's throat, squeezing. "All that keeps me from ripping out your throat now is your loyal service to me in times past." Coyne grimaced. Hampton opened his hand. Coyne staggered backward, his hand going to his gullet. Hampton spat on the floor.
And looked around at his followers. They were gaunt and spectral, hollow-eyed.... well, more hollow-eyed than usual, and there were markedly fewer of them. Hampton felt the skin tighten around his eyes. He turned back to Coyne and extended his hand.
"Forgive me," he said. "Zeal sometimes blinds me. We have suffered. But sometimes the just must suffer at the hands of the guilty. We cannot leave his sin unpunished."
"What sin is that?" Coyne asked. "I'm a little unclear about it."
"He stretched forth his hand against one of the anointed. His presumption is a foul stink in my nostrils. It cannot be ignored." Hampton turned his head to one side and stretched his neck like a man trying to work out a kink. "But you have a point. Frontal assault only depletes us. It is time to adopt a new tactic."
"What's that?" Coyne said, his hand drifting away from his neck.
"Give me a day." Hampton stalked away, then turned back to his flock. "I must reflect and purify myself. Then we will strike, and this blow shall be heavy."
Coyne watched his leader depart, then shook his head. "He's a spellbinder, I'll give him that."
***
Stefan Warner got up from the sofa in the teacher's lounge just as Giles was about to speak. "Just a minute," the history teacher/mystical knight said as he dragged a blue plastic chair from the round Formica table and wedged it under the doorknob.
"What on earth are you doing?" Giles asked.
"Call me crazy, but I'd really prefer that no one walk in on us during this conversation." Warner crossed the room and dropped back down on the couch. "Okay, what's up?"
Matti Hollis leaned against a counter, arms folded in front of her. "Mr. Giles called Gerard last night. He got a strange voice. Since I was at the school, he came to me. We spent a good chunk of the night burning up phone and modem lines and it seems that Gerard is officially missing."
Warner's eyes narrowed. "Missing?"
"Apparently the Watchers are having some sort of internal conflict." Hollis uncrossed her arms and rested her palms on the counter. "Seems some of them have turned up dead, others missing."
Warner frowned. "Organized?"
Hollis shrugged. "Would appear so."
Warner thought for a moment. "Some sort of demonic cult, maybe."
Giles shook his head. "No. The Council's headquarters is undisturbed. There's no general alert. It must be some sort of... coup or insurrection."
"Look, Mr. Giles, I don't want to be rude, but what makes you think they'd inform you of a general alert? You haven't been in the loop for a while, have you?" Warner raised an eyebrow.
Giles struggled to remain calm. "I know because I contacted the Council last night. None of the protocols were in effect, and even if I am somewhat persona non grata at the moment, I don't believe they would change them all on my account."
Warner grimaced. "I really wish you hadn't contacted them. We don't need attention directed our way."
Giles stood, walked over to the coffeepot and poured a cup of hot water from the carafe he'd placed on the warming pad. He took a tea bag from the box he kept in the cupboard and dropped it into the cup to steep, then turned back to the two teachers. "I don't think we'll be bothered by any attention, at least not for a while. The last matching of Watcher and Slayer was tampered with. Gerard sent me proof. This is... I cannot think of a greater offense. Whomever would do this..." Giles sipped his tea and shook his head. "It will mean civil war. I may be in some danger, but no more than any other Watcher who remains loyal to the traditions of our order."
"Nice speech," Warner said dryly. "You might get nominated for a People's Choice award."
"Very droll." Giles sipped again, savoring the moment. "I believe I may know something else that will hold your interest." He smiled slightly. "I know what the Mayor wants."
Hollis pushed herself away from the counter as Warner unfolded from the sofa. "Mr. Giles," he said, "I believe you have my complete attention."
The librarian looked from Hollis to Warner. "I'm telling you because I believe that we must work together. There can be no territorial squabbling, agreed?"
Warner shrugged. "You've got my vote." Hollis nodded.
Giles took a deep breath. "What do you know about the Seal of Solomon?"
"Wow." Hollis took a step back.
Warner rubbed the knuckles of one hand over his forehead. "Honestly, not that much, but we can put people to work on it."
"That would be best," Giles said. "I--"
The doorknob rattled. Warner pulled the chair away in one swift, smooth motion. He was already sitting in it when the door popped open and Principal Snyder stumbled in to the room. The short, bald man looked at the three teachers, all of whom stared at him.
"The, uh, the door must have stuck." Snyder drew himself up to his full but still negligible height and left the lounge.
***
"I saw him leave with them!" Willow was apoplectic. "I was coming out of the Chem lab and I saw Principal Snyder go into the teacher's lounge, and then he left and then Giles came out with Ms. Hollis and Mr. Warner."
Buffy made a skeptical face. "Will, do you think you might be going a little Taxi Driver about this whole thing?"
Willow shook her head. "No. Giles never blows off research, and now he's just hangin' out in the teacher's lounge with his compadres." She waved her arms in the air.
Buffy stifled a laugh. "Compadres? Okay, Will, you've shown intensity before, but now you're edging into Walken-in-Deer Hunter territory."
Willow winced. "It was cheesy, wasn't it?"
Buffy's eyes widened as she took her friend by the arm. "A little, yeah." She looked thoughtful. "Why do you suppose Giles is hanging around Ms. Hollis so much?" Her look changed to one of shock. "You don't suppose... they're... dating, do you?"
Willow shook her head. "He wouldn't..." She stopped and stared at the Slayer. "You don't think they could be, do you?"
Buffy shrugged. "It has been a while since..." Her voice faltered. "You know," she concluded lamely.
Willow's mouth puckered. "It's going to be the eight-hundred pound gorilla for a long time, isn't it?"
Buffy nodded. "Ooooohhh yeah."
***
Othniel Hampton's lanky frame stretched across the floor of the old supervisor's office. He had been here, face down, since leaving his flock. Not even his preferred method of mortifying the flesh was sufficient to inspire him. Coyne was right; they were truly in desperate straits. Trick sat in his fortress, untouchable, and killing his minions was not having any effect on him whatsoever.
Hampton raised his head. That could be the key. Yes, it could.
***
Willow slammed her locker, turned, and screamed. "Don't do that," she gasped, hand over her heart.
"What?" Tyler Pittman asked. "What'd I do?"
"Have you ever heard of personal space?" Willow asked, annoyed.
"No," he replied. "When do you want to do it again?"
"I already told you," Willow said as she turned and stalked away, "I don't want to do it again."
He stood by her locker, a puzzled look on his face as he watched her leave. He shook his head, turned and went the other way.
***
"Gee, I appreciate it, but I don't think you'd enjoy what I'm doing," Buffy said.
"Try me," Xander said. "And I mean that. Try me."
She shook her head. "Sorry. I'm going to see Angel, try and find out some stuff, then it's study, study, study. The down side to a surprisingly high SAT is increased maternal expectation." Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Why don't you patrol with Faith? She could probably use the help."
Xander shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could."
"Besides, I think having one of us around her kind of keeps her grounded, you know?"
Xander nodded. "Sure. That's me, the understanding, grounding guy. The eunuch."
Buffy frowned at him. "That's not what I meant." Her face softened. "You are one of the best guys I've ever met. How can being around you not be a good thing for her?"
Xander looked away in irritation. "I know you think that's a big compliment, but it makes me sound like a big safe puppy."
The Slayer smiled. "Which you kind of are."
"Don't say that! Do you know how that makes a guy feel?"
Buffy shook her head. "Gee, Xander, I guess you'll just have to get used to our respect and friendship." She gave him a quick hug. "So treat Faith nice."
"Geez," he muttered as she walked away, "I'd swap a little loved and respected for some feared and wanted."
***
Faith held up two fingers. Xander nodded, then squinted into the darkness. He could just make out the shadowy figures Faith had spotted. He followed her as she moved to flank them. Crouching behind a hedge, Faith pressed a stake into his hand and brought her lips to his ear.
"I'm going over. You go around and we hit 'em from two sides." He nodded and duck-walked to the end of the shrubbery. He looked back over his shoulder. Faith nodded, then vaulted over the hedge. Xander sprinted around the bushes, feet slipping on the wet grass, his vision bouncing. He caught fragmented glimpses of Faith and the vamps engaged in combat as he charged and then one of the vamps turned toward him.
"Oh shit," Xander said.
Having finally gained momentum, he was unable to slow down on the slick grass and that saved his life. The vampire was prepared for him to do the smart thing and pull up, but Xander barreled right into the flatfooted bloodsucker. Xander felt himself catapulted through the air as the demon kicked. The boy landed flat on his back but adrenaline helped him scramble to his feet. He rounded on the advancing vamp and swung his stake, but the creature caught his wrist and twisted. Xander yelled in pain as his arm was twisted in an unnatural way. A white-hot streak of pain shot through his shoulder. He felt the joint grinding and then blessed relief flooded through him. He staggered a few steps and turned. The vampire swung its arms wildly, trying to dislodge Faith. She'd jumped on its back and had both arms wrapped around its head. The vampire stumbled backwards and slammed into a tree. Faith's ribs creaked with the impact, but she held on. The creature repeated the process. Faith threw her head back and howled, "Dammit, get a new move!"
Xander stumbled forward, arm dangling. The vampire tried to ram Faith into the tree again but he missed and they tumbled over backwards. Xander arrived and did the only thing he could think of-he flopped down across the struggling vamp. Faith kicked at the demon's head, trying to free herself. She wriggled out from underneath him, pulled a stake and dusted the bloodsucker.
"Come on," she said, getting to her feet, "we're done here. It's time to party."
"I don't think I want to hit the Bronze," Xander said, rolling over onto his back and rotating his left arm slowly in order to see if the joint still worked correctly.
"I'm not talking about the Bronze," Faith replied as she picked up her stakes. "Come on."
