In the Space of a Journey
Chapter Seventeen

England

Cordelia opened her eyes and looked around the room. She saw shelves full of weird jars and crystals, soft lighting that gave the room a comfortable glow in the pre-dawn darkness and Oz laying on a bed next to her. Less than a bed, more like a table -- and very uncomfortable. Cordelia missed her bed at the Ritz.

"How are you feeling, Cordelia?" a cultured, male voice asked.

Then she remembered where she was. Nigel's shop. And when she woke up after the spell, she was supposed to be... a Slayer?

Shaking off the lagging effects of the sleeping spell, Cordelia sprang to her feet, a new energy flowing through her veins. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. But a little thirsty..." She arched an eyebrow at the tall, thin, dark-haired warlock.

He stared at her for a minute. Cordelia almost thought she had lost her touch with men, and then he turned to do her bidding.

"I'm glad you feel all right, Cordelia," Joyce said.

Cordelia turned and gave Buffy's mother a strained smile. It was hard to know how to act around the woman. Her whole being screamed pain and fear, but she covered it well. Joyce stood next to Oz, who had just opened his eyes. The boy sat up and flexed his leg.

Looking at Nigel, he commented, "It's healed."

"Yes," Nigel replied, pouring water into a small, glass flute.

"It doesn't hurt." Oz jumped down from the table and tested his weight on the newly-healed leg.

"If you had been awake during the healing procedure, you would have a rather different opinion." Nigel handed Cordelia the glass.

She grabbed it, and it shattered in her grasp. "I don't know my own strength," she muttered, embarrassed.

"Actually you don't," Nigel replied, unsurprised. He quickly swept up the broken glass and disposed of it.

"Cordelia! Your hand," Joyce exclaimed.

Everyone looked at Cordelia's extended hand. It was bleeding from a couple of nasty cuts.

"Do you have a bandage?" Joyce asked Nigel.

"It doesn't really hurt," Cordelia said, looking at her hand as if the appendage belonged to someone else.

"There's no need," Nigel answered. And he was right. A few seconds later and the cuts began to close and scab over. If they kept healing at the same rate, the scabs and reddened skin would be gone in hours. Or less.

"Whoa," Oz muttered. He reached over and grabbed Cordelia's hand to see for himself.

"Ow!" Cordelia yanked her hand back. "That hurt!" But she pulled too hard and Oz went flying over the table. He landed on the floor with a hard thump.

"Ouch," he said mildly, getting back to his feet. "I guess neither of us knows our own strength."

"You will get used to it soon," Nigel assured them. "We've got a few hours before you must leave for the Compound."

"You don't want us to go when it's still dark?" Cordelia asked, frowning at Nigel. "Like when they can't see us?"

"Ms. Calendar and I have worked out something a little better than that." Nigel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, tin circlet. "This ring will protect you, even in broad daylight."

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "I know jewelry, buster, and that's a dinky Crackerjacks prize. Not a ring. How will that help?"

"Appearances can be deceiving," Nigel replied cryptically, tossing Cordelia the ring. She caught it with no problem. "Put it on, Cordelia, and try not to break it."

"Ha, ha, ha," Cordelia replied sarcastically, but she did as she was told and slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. Then, right before the surprised eyes of Oz and Joyce, Cordelia faded away from sight.

"So, like, is something supposed to be happening here?" her disembodied voice demanded.

Oz looked at the place where her voice had come from. Then he looked at Nigel. "Cool."

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

A pounding at her door in the Compound woke Buffy up just after dawn. She groaned, feeling extraordinarily tired. She didn't want to leave her warm cocoon of blankets and the nice, fluffy mattress.

"Go 'way," she muttered into her pillow, but the knocking didn't stop.

And then she heard Marcus's voice. "Buffy. The tribunal resumes in just a little over an hour, and breakfast starts in half that. Since you're the star witness today we can't have you testifying on an empty stomach."

"All right," Buffy called in a clipped voice. "I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

"I'll be back," Marcus replied. Then she heard his footsteps receding in the hallway.

"Can't a girl ever get any privacy around here?" Buffy grumbled, though she already knew the answer to that question. Then she forced herself to get out of bed. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower. Then, while waiting for the water to heat up, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair seemed kind of limp and lackluster, and there were deep purple shadows marring the thin skin underneath her eyes.

"Gonna need tons of concealer today," she muttered unhappily. "Why does loosing one's powers have such an affect on the looks?" She sighed, but actually she both felt and looked much better than the last time she had lost her powers. Part of that, she decided, was that she only lost two-thirds of her powers, not all of them, and the other part was that she knew what was going on. Her feelings of loss and weakness were not accompanied by the gut-wrenching fear that she was dying or something equally horrible.

When steam began to waft over the shower curtain, Buffy decided it was time to stop moping and get cleaned up. She had a part to play -- the Watchers couldn't think that she was at anything less that full strength or anything less than on their side.

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

"Lass! Yer alive!" Doyle stopped straining against the leather straps holding him to the stretcher as the random Watcher in the white coat wheeled him in next to his former cell-mate. He looked at her, and noticed her wan complexion. "Ye are OK, right?"

"I'm alive," Sonya said simply. "No thanks to them." She shot the man positioning Doyle's stretcher a poisonous glare.

"Shut up," the man replied. "I've had enough of your American melodrama. You should appreciate the time to yourself."

Sonya snorted. "Yeah, Charles, I'm *so* grateful that you gave me a break from the gut-wrenching, torturous tests of my healing powers..." Her voice trailed off, and realization dawned on her face. Her gaze turned back to Doyle. "Oh, no..."

"Wha'?" Doyle asked. Then a woman walked in, wheeling a huge machine. She placed it next to his stretcher and began to attach electrodes to his head. "Hey, what are ye doin', lady?"

"Be still, the test will go faster," the woman replied crisply.

"Ellen, it sure took you long enough," Charles complained, moving away from their prisoners to set up a projector and a screen on the other side of the room.

"I had to charge up the machine," Ellen informed him. "Now, Charles, just do your job, and let me do mine."

"Charge up the machine?" Doyle repeated from under several more electrodes, his voice becoming a high-pitched squeak. He looked over at Sonya. Her gaze spoke volumes of pain experienced and tortures received in the name of testing. Then she turned, as if she couldn't bear to watch any longer. Doyle could see her reflection in the mirrored walls that surrounded the room. Her expression was one of doom and something else... Could that be fear he saw in her eyes? Fear for him? That alone scared him even more than the machine.

"Now," Ellen said, getting up and plugging the machine in to a computer on another cart. Charles connected the computer to the projector. "Just so you know, Doyle, what we're about to do is try to stimulate one of your so-called visions with an electric pulse of varying intensities. If we succeed, this computer will translate the electronic impulses from your mind into a viewable form, and we will all watch it together on the screen."

"Should be interesting," Charles added. He looked at Sonya, who he seemed to really enjoy tormenting. "How about a little pop corn? You Americans like that at the cinema, right?"

Sonya wouldn't look at him. "Shut up," she growled.

"Wait a minute!" Doyle protested. "I thought none of ye Council-types believed in me visions! That's what yer bosses told Aidan anyway."

Ellen stared at him. Her eyes cold. "We do what we are told to help the greater good. Just think how invaluable your gift would be in the hands of someone quick, someone brave, someone willing to devote themselves to the Cause..."

"What cause?" Doyle demanded.

"Saving the world from evil, of course," Charles took it upon himself to answer.

"Ye save the world from evil by kidnappin' people and torturin', excuse me, testin' them?" Doyle would have shaken his head or thrown up his hands in disgust, but he couldn't, so he settled for a fierce glare.

"Pretty sick, isn't it?" Sonya said dryly, her calm voice at odds with the fear in her eyes. "Gotta love a group of fanatics with a goal."

"Neither of you are worthy of such special powers!" Charles exclaimed, getting red in the face.

"Charles!" Ellen broke into his tirade. "Hush, and make sure the projector is ready." Suitably abashed, Charles moved over to the projector. Ellen looked at Doyle. "Ready?" Without waiting for any acknowledgement she hit a blue button and Doyle began to twitch as several joules of electricity poured into his brain.

He tried to fight it, but soon he was just riding along on a wave of pain. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Doyle didn't move. His brain felt like so much mush, his thoughts scattered to the winds. He had to consciously remind himself to breathe.

"It didn't work," Charles said unnecessarily.

"We'll just try a higher setting," Ellen replied.

From behind closed eyes, Doyle heard her click a few knobs on the machine and then the pain poured in again. As he jerked on the bed, his demon spikes came out -- a defense mechanism. By the time they were on their fourth try, he was screaming in agony.

"Stop it! You're killing him!" Sonya cried out in protest, "It's not worth it!" However, a slap from Charles stopped her voice for the moment.

Doyle lay on the stretcher, his limbs still twitching from his last bout with the machine, his eyes rolling back in his head. Ellen reached a hand over to the machine, ready to up the voltage for a fifth try. Before her fingers could reach the dial, Doyle began convulsing from an entirely different kind of pain. The pain of a vision.

"It's working!" Charles exclaimed.

Ellen let her finger fall off the button. Her eyes glued to the screen and the images forming as Doyle writhed on the stretcher.

"How do you know he wasn't going to have one anyway?" Sonya muttered. Charles glared at her, and she knew if he hadn't been next to the projector she would have gotten slapped again. Sonya didn't care about that. It would just make her revenge sweeter when he slipped up and she got free. She had to keep telling herself that.

Then her eyes reluctantly moved to the screen, almost against her will, and she watched the vision play out. The images flashing across the screen were grainy and hard to recognize, and their speed was startling. She was amazed that Doyle could ever even decipher any of these visions. To her it looked like a movie on fast forward with the image scrambled up and the sound turned off. But every once in a while, she could recognize something.

She saw figures in golden robes, one of them familiar. But before she could focus on that, the scene changed to show the usmistakable visage of a vampire. Seconds later, saw a woman, Gwendolyn Post if she remembered correctly, standing off to the side, watching. And then she saw Cordelia Chase, wearing a business suit consisting of a tweed jacket and skirt and a white blouse. Her hair was hidden under an extremely bad wig. Sonya wondered if any of the Watchers recognized Cordelia, but they didn't appear to. Sonya's breath caught in her throat when she recognized Oz standing beside Cordelia, also wearing tweed and holding a briefcase. She was equal parts relieved and dismayed when the image shifted, glad that the Watchers didn't have any more time to figure out the significance of Oz and Cordelia's appearance in the vision but sad to lose Oz's comforting image. And then there was a face that made her blood run cold.

"Nathan," she whispered, panic beginning to set in. "Oh my god."

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

"So, are you guys ready for this?" Joyce asked as she pulled Nigel's car over onto the side of the road a mile or so away from the Compound. A small lane intersected the main road, probably leading to someone's country house or something. She maneuvered the car into it, and turned around so she was facing the highway. When she turned off the motor, the car was positioned far enough away from the road not to be obvious to passing cars, but where she would have a good view of everyone that passed by. Nigel's car was hunter green, so it blended in with the foliage well.

"Yeah," Oz replied, trying to look confident.

"Of course, we are." Cordelia tried to bolster the strength of her words with a huge smile. "I just wish I didn't have to wear this stupid wig, or this tweed. Ug! Who wears tweed nowadays anyway?"

"Watchers," Oz answered.

Joyce didn't buy the kids' acting for one second, but she pretended she did, knowing that her confidence in them would give them confidence in themselves. "I know you're ready. You can do this."

"Thanks, Joyce," Oz said, opening his door.

"I'll be here waiting," Joyce promised as Cordelia got out of the car as well. "And remember, if you need me to get closer to the gate, shoot off that flare Nigel gave you." Her mind still boggled at the idea of a magical flare calibrated so only she could see it, but Nigel was full of interesting surprises.

Oz patted his pocket, which contained the few magical aids Nigel had given them for the mission. Joyce nodded, and then watched. Cordelia put the ring on her finger and slowly faded into invisibility. Oz reached out his hand, and Cordelia must have clasped it with her own, because seconds later he was gone, too, and Joyce was alone with her thoughts for the duration.

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

The room in which the tribunal was being held was already full when Buffy got there. She scanned the benches for a place to sit. There was one spot left, right behind Giles. The same place she'd sat yesterday. Giles turned and noticed her. Then Barrows walked up to her.

"Buffy, dear, since you're testifying today, I thought you could sit with me at the prosecution's table," he said, giving her his best smile. "Your choice, of course."

The smile intensified the knot in Buffy's stomach. He must not want her anywhere close to Giles. But there was only one thing she could do. She nodded at Barrows and followed him to the seat he had prepared, right next to him. She walked right by Giles without giving him a second look, though it hurt to do so. Buffy just hoped that he would understand her pretense when all this was over.

"Are you ready to testify, Buffy?" Barrows asked as she sat down in the chair and smoothed her skirt over her legs. "I know we haven't gone over your testimony..."

"Don't worry," Buffy assured him, keeping her face blank. "I'm ready."

"Even with all this stuff going on about your... er... friends?" Barrows questioned delicately.

"Even so," Buffy replied, looking away from him and hoping he'd take the hint. She was pretty sure that this Watcher didn't trust her. But she had to keep playing her part, despite the weakness in her muscles, the butterflies in her stomach and Barrows's gaze on the back of her head.

Soon the trio of judges entered and sat down in their customary spots. The beginning remarks and recap of yesterday's testimony must have taken twenty minutes, at least, but to Buffy it seemed mere seconds before the proconsul allowed Barrows to call his first witness.

"Let me introduce to the court, Ethan Rayne," Barrows said in his booming voice. A short, thin man walked up from the back of the room and was sworn in. Buffy snuck a peek at Giles and noticed that his face had gone whiter than usual. That puzzled her. Giles, her Giles, Xander and Sonya's Giles, didn't have anything to hide... did he?

Barrows walked over in front of the witness. "Mr. Rayne, how do you know the defendant, Rupert Giles?"

"We hung out a bit when we were young."

"'Hung out,' you say? Doing what? Please, share with the court."

"Well, the Ripper and I -- we used to call him Ripper -- had a whole gang of friends."

Barrows narrowed his eyes and focused on the man in the chair. "Or, perhaps you might call it a coven?"

"Yes, yes, you could call it that," Rayne admitted, a small smile on his lips. "Except that we weren't all witches and warlocks. Ripper wasn't."

"But he did participate in your castings?"

"Of course. Ripper was head research guy. He found all the best spells to try and demons to summon. Once we did this love spell... well, we had the whole of London almost knocking down our doors." At the end of his revelations, he gave Giles a self-satisfied look. "Quite the ride, wasn't it, old chap? Several rides, actually."

A collective gasp was heard around the room. Buffy looked from Rayne to Giles. Giles wasn't denying anything. In fact, was the look on his face guilt? The look on Rayne's face bordered on enjoyment. Then the question and answer session continued, as Buffy's faith in her Watcher took it's another plunge.

"So, Mr. Rayne," Barrows said, after a long pause to let the enormity of the revelation sink in. "Are you saying that this man, Rupert Giles, otherwise known as 'The Ripper,' despite his vows to protect the world from darkness and evil willingly participated in occultic activities that harmed the populace and summoned demon-spawn from the gates of Hell?

"Well, that might be a tad harsh. And I know nothing about any vows. We were fun-loving machines. Sure, a few people got injured, but no one died."

The questioning didn't go on much longer. There weren't many more damning statements that Barrows could elicit from Rayne. Wesley was given a chance to cross examine, but, surprised as he was, he couldn't think of anything to add that would help Giles. Buffy hoped that Wesley would put Giles on the stand later to explain himself. She was shocked beyond words at the revelations about Giles. "Ripper" was so different than the Giles she knew today. She knew that he probably had reasons. And everyone went through some sort of rebellion, didn't they? But she couldn't shake the feelings of betrayal that merged with the feelings of love and respect she usually had for her Watcher.

And then Barrows decided to call her to the stand.

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

It was hard to run holding hands, but that's what Oz and Cordelia had to do to stay invisible. It would have been even harder to climb the gate holding hands, but luckily a latecomer for the tribunal passed through just as they got there. They noticed a slight burning sensation as the crossed the boundaries of the Compound, but Nigel had warned them about that.

"Ward spell," Oz whispered as they continued.

Cordelia nodded mutely. The spell worked in such a way that they could see each other, but no one else could see them. Luckily, the warlock who had bespelled them was extremely powerful. His experiences with the Nathan spirit had given Nigel much understanding of the magical world, and access to much more knowledge than he would have had otherwise. Nigel had said that they might feel a ward spell, but they would not be detected as much more than a blip as long as they were under the cover of his invisibility spell.

They followed the same latecomer into the building, made it inside with no mishaps, and, thanks to Joyce's description, found the secret door in the fireplace beneath the stairs easily. Then they were in the hallway that led to where they knew Doyle's cell to be. They had a plan as to how to get inside, but it would just take time.

When they got to the door, Cordelia, the taller of the two, stretched up on her tiptoes and looked through the small window. She nodded, signaling that Doyle was inside. Now they just had to wait for someone to come.

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

Buffy stood and walked to the witness chair, trying not to let her nervousness show. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room upon her, and she knew they were all wondering what she would say. Compounded with her mild sick feeling from losing two-thirds of her power, and it was hard for her to do much at all. But she managed to make her way up to the chair and sit down.

It was hard not to look at Giles, but she passed right by him without a word or a gesture. She hoped he wouldn't think she hated him because of the revelations that had been unearthed. She was angry at him for hiding the truth, but she knew she would get over it. The question now was, what could she say to Barrows that would help Giles but not give her secrets away to the bad elements on the Council?

She took her place in the chair, and nervously smoothed her skirt across her knees. Barrows walked over and smiled at her. His version of a kindly smile didn't do much for the butterflies in her stomach.

"Now, Buffy," he said mildly. "Tell us about training with Mr. Giles."

"Well," Buffy replied, keeping her face as emotionless as possible, "he is very good at his job. He knows all about weapons and fighting techniques and things."

"Good, good. But tell us more. How did he relate to you as the Slayer?"

"He was kind of stiff at first, but he loosened up after a while. It was kind of hard with Sonya still in the picture..." Buffy bit off her words, but Barrows seized on the comment.

"So, are you saying that by taking the Choosing of the Slayer upon himself, Mr. Giles created a difficult situation? The former Slayer, Sonya, was still in his custody. It must have been hard for him to balance the needs of a crippled former Slayer with the those of the new Slayer. One of you must have felt a lack of attention."

"It was kind of hard, but we made it work," Buffy tried to assure Barrows and the judges, breaking character, be damned. She wasn't going to lie. Not about this. She hoped they would attribute it to a Slayer's natural respect for her first Watcher and not hold it against her and put her under house arrest, too.

"But you shouldn't have had to just 'make it work,' should you?" Barrows asked triumphantly. "Had the proper rules for selecting a Watcher for a new Slayer been followed, then you would not have been forced to make do with an inferior situation."

"It wasn't a bad situation, most of the time," Buffy protested. "Giles knows a lot. He was a great trainer. Yes, there was some initial stickiness with the Sonya thing, but it was fine. Really!"

"Even when Mr. Giles ignored you to help Sonya get her legs back?" Barrows asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"How do you know about that?" Buffy shot back.

"Does that change the fact that it happened?"

"It wasn't Giles' fault," Buffy tried to explain. "This warlock put a spell on Sonya that made her wishes come true."

"If one of Sonya's wishes was for Mr. Giles to care more about her than about you, it just goes to prove my point," Barrows said, giving Buffy a suspicious look. "You don't agree?" Buffy was silent, so he added, "And it also shows that Mr. Giles breached another section of the Codes. He got too close to Sonya. Watchers are supposed to keep their role well-defined so they can have perspective to help the Slayer. Caring about her too much leads to a Watcher being willing to sacrifice the good of all for the good of the few."

Buffy sighed and looked at Barrows. "What do you want me to say here?"

"Tell me the truth, Buffy." He looked at her with a piercing gaze. "Just tell me the truth about your relationship with Mr. Giles."

Buffy looked at Giles. She could see he was waiting for her response, too, as was everyone in the room. "I think that Giles shouldn't be condemned for what might have been bad choices at the time. I think he did the best job he knew how to do, and he is good at his job." She hesitated before adding the last part, but she had to be honest. "Yes, sometimes it has been hard, and there were times that I wished I had my own Watcher that I did not share with Sonya. But I think that overall, Giles has been a good Watcher and done the job to the best of his capability."

"I suppose, then," Barrows said, "the question is that is 'the best of his ability' good enough for the job."

After that, he sat down and turned things over to Wesley. The other counselor asked a few more questions clarifying that Buffy thought Giles did a good job, but there wasn't much new to add to the knowledge. And the point about Giles getting too close to Sonya definitely hadn't done him any favors with all the Watchers present.

When Buffy went back to her seat, she couldn't bear to look at Giles. Everything was so confusing now. She felt like he'd let her down by lying about his past, but that she'd let him down for not giving a completely glowing testimony. But, one good thing, she wasn't getting personal hate vibes from the other Watchers, so that must mean that they didn't find her defending Giles too out of line. Her cover was still safe, for all the good that would do her.

Then the proconsul hit his gavel against the desk and announced, "We will now recess for lunch. Everyone be back in no more than one hour."

Buffy sighed in relief. At least she would have a break before the torturous proceedings began again.

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

Oz and Cordelia waited for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. Then a man in a white coat came bearing a lunch tray. Oz watched as the man punched in the correct key code, and committed the number to memory. The man opened both doors and set the tray down on the floor.

"Food," the man announced.

Doyle was laying on the floor near the window, not moving. He didn't respond. There were a couple of circle shaped bruises on his head barely visible in the lighting that was dim even in the middle of the day.

Oz looked at Cordelia. He had a plan. He just hoped she would be quick enough to go along with it. She looked back at him, trying to be ready. Oz looked from her to the man and made a kissy face. Understanding dawned in the brunette's eyes. She nodded. Oz let go of her hand and stepped to the side of the door. Cordelia quickly removed the ring.

The man in the white coat turned to see a woman with bushy, red hair in a tweed suit standing in the doorway of the cell. She looked sort of like a Watcher -- the same uniform. But somehow she was too sexy to be a normal Watcher.

"Who are you?" he exclaimed. His hand moved toward the alarm button, but Cordelia stilled it with a smooth gesture. With her other hand, she touched the man's chest. He started to blush, but didn't move.

"Who do you want me to be?" Cordelia replied in her sexiest tone. She let go of his hand and put her fingers to the top of her blouse seductively. The man's eyes bulged. He stepped out of the cell just as Cordelia ducked out of the way and Oz punched the guy right in the face with all his might. Since his might had been incredibly enhanced, the man went flying across the cell and hit his head on the opposing wall with a resounding crack.

Oz hurried into the cell. "Come on!" he urged. "Let's get Doyle."

Cordelia followed Oz inside, making sure the door was as open as possible. Then she got an idea. Looking from Doyle to the man's white coat, she said, "I think we need to leave a decoy..."

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

Xander paced back and forth in his room. It was nicer than a cell, granted, but it was still a prison. And he was hungry. There hadn't been any breakfast, and now it was almost noon.

The sound of a key in the lock made him stop. Xander turned and watched as the door opened to reveal none other than Gwendolyn Post.

"Miss Post," Xander said with some surprise. "To what do I owe the... er... honor?"

Gwendolyn glanced behind her carefully and then shut the door, locking it and pocketing the key. "I'm here to warn you."

Xander laughed. "Good one. Next try and convince me that you play first base for the Angels."

She gave him a cutting glare. "Enough of this! I picked you because I thought you would understand..."

"Understand a kidnapping?" Xander interrupted in amazement. "Yeah, right!"

"It's not a kidnapping." Gwendolyn walked into the room and sat down on the bed. She patted the bed next to her. "Sit down and let me explain."

Xander raised and eyebrow and remained exactly where he was.

Gwendolyn sighed. "All right. Make this more difficult. I'm on your side. Yours, Buffy's and Giles's."

"Sure," Xander remarked with as much sarcasm as he could muster, but inside he was beginning to wonder if there was any truth to her words. He took a few steps closer to the woman, but did not sit down next to her.

When she spoke, her voice was breathy and anxious -- a far cry from the in control woman he'd known her to be previously.

"You know how Buffy missed her calling the first time?"

Xander nodded. After Buffy moved to Sunnydale, that story had come to light.

"Well, when she got hurt, it set off a chain reaction through the Council," Gwendolyn told him. Her blue eyes were serious. "There was a faction who believed that we needed to take drastic measures to ensure that the world was never left defenseless if something should happen to the Slayer. If Buffy had been Chosen a few seconds sooner, we would have had a crippled Slayer on our hands, and that would have been disastrous. People began to see that just being destined to be the Slayer was not enough to keep a girl safe from harm.

"The proconsul had just been elected by the Board of Directors, and he formed a committee to see what we could do. I was on that committee. We devised a plan to train potential Slayers and others with special powers to help in the Cause."

"Like Faith, and Terrance and the others," Xander realized, becoming interested in her story in spite of himself. He sat down on the bed next to her.

Gwendolyn nodded. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but at that time in my life I was experimenting with the occult. I don't know if it was simple rebellion against my destiny, or something darker. But this committee saved me. I focused on that and found a way to pursue my interests for good instead of evil. But then things changed. After I proved myself to him with my aptitude, Chamberlain appointed me his vice proconsul. Then I got to know all his secrets. He let me in on the function of the committee that no one else, including the great majority of the Watchers, knew about."

She paused, and Xander urged, "Go on!"

Her face was more pale than normal. "I told you that they were training people... well, kids mostly, kids are the most malleable... with special powers. Well, they were doing more than that. This special branch of the committee was trapping demons, and even humans unwilling to use their special powers to fight for our Cause. After months of testing, they found a way to steal these abilities from the 'undesirables' and put them into more supportive and willing candidates."

Xander looked at her in shock. "But what happened to the people who lost their abilities?"

"In most cases," Gwendolyn told him quietly, "they died. And if they didn't, they had to be eliminated to keep the secret safe. But there was something else. Something worse. Something that made me vow never to mess with the occult again, except to destroy it."

"What could be worse than that?" Xander was almost afraid to hear the answer to this question.

"The ones who got the powers -- especially those who were elevated from mere humans -- it takes too much energy for them to keep the powers in any natural way. The first ones who received the extra powers burned up their life force in a matter of days, sometimes mere hours, trying to keep it. I was there. I saw them burn themselves from the inside to a charred husk, and none of us, not even them, could do anything to stop it. Until one of the committee members, a promising girl named Ellen, figured out a way. They could use the life force of others."

Realization dawned on Xander's face. "So to fight the evil, these commandos have to kill innocent people to do it?"

"The committee members and the proconsul thought it was worth it -- an ends justifies the means sort of thing." Gwendolyn looked at him with pain-filled eyes. "But I don't think so. I think it's completely wrong. I've been working behind the scenes to stop it, but there's not much I can do without compromising my position. That was why I tried to alert Buffy..."

"The anonymous letter," Xander realized.

"Yes, but it didn't work. Now she is confined to the grounds, and Giles is under house arrest. They would have caged you downstairs with Sonya and Doyle, but I hid you and put you up here. I'm sorry about the lack of food, by the way. I couldn't risk attracting attention to where you were."

"What happened to Joyce?" Xander asked. He'd been worried about her all this time.

"She is a very resourceful woman," Gwendolyn said. "She got away. Council operatives tried to catch her at your hotel, but she and the others were gone when they got there."

Secure in the knowledge that Joyce, Cordelia and Oz, at least, were safe, Xander turned his mind to other matters. His mind was whirling with the new knowledge Gwendolyn had given him. She'd given him the answers to so many questions, even questions he had not known he had. He began putting the pieces together, speaking out loud as he did so.

"So, that's why you guys kidnapped Doyle and Sonya, isn't it?"

Gwendolyn nodded. "They want their powers."

"What about Buffy and Giles?"

"Buffy is safe, as long as she is willing to play their game. She's doing a good job of that right now. Giles, however, is about to be made a scapegoat."

"But you're a judge, can't you...?"

She shook her head. "Not without compromising my position. I walk a fine line here. If I get caught, no one will be around to keep an eye on the Council. And, I'm not sure if Aidan would vote with me. They may have gotten to him."

Xander stared into her eyes. "What do I need to do?"

"Get out of here," she replied. "Now. When I leave, the door will not be locked. Wait a few minutes, until I'm gone, and then sneak away under the cover of the lunch crowd. Tell your friends, and maybe you can think of something. I'll give you all the help I can, but..."

"But if they ask, you'll disavow all knowledge," Xander filled in for her in a slightly bitter tone. "How very Mission Impossible."

Gwendolyn took him seriously. "Yes, it is an impossible mission, but I've read Giles's reports about you, Xander. Maybe you can think of something. If not, then at least I'll know that I saved one life." With that, she stood and walked out of the room, leaving the key in the lock this time.

Xander sat on the bed, ingesting all that she had just told him, and tried to come up with a plan. Mission Impossible indeed. Then he stood, walked through the unlocked door and began trying to sneak out of the mansion without being detected.

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

Doyle felt himself being moved about, not of his own volition. Remembering the pain that had resulted last time, he forced himself to open his eyes. He looked into the most beautiful face he had ever seen, framed by the worst red hair ever.

"Am I dead?" he asked in wonderment and he stared into Cordelia's caring brown eyes. "Is this heaven? On a bad hair day?"

"Snap out of it, Doyle," Cordelia ordered, her worried look quickly replaced by an expression of frustration. "We've got to move it if we're going to get out of here."

That was when he remembered some of his latest vision. Doyle looked down and noticed that he was wearing a white coat. Then he saw the unconscious man lying on the floor in Doyle's place and wearing his bloody clothes. There was a large bruise on the man's face. Doyle glanced at Oz, looking quite odd in tweed. "Did ye do that?"

Oz nodded.

"How?" Doyle asked.

"There's no time for that," Cordelia replied briskly. Satisfied that he could stand on his own, she let him go.

That was when Doyle realized that the thin, lithe, young woman had been holding him up all by herself. Now, Doyle knew he wasn't a heavyweight, but Cordelia wasn't even breathing hard. "Somethin' weird's goin' on here..."

"Come on," Cordelia urged. "We'll tell you later. Now, let's get Sonya and get out of here."

"Do you know where they have her?" Oz asked.

Doyle nodded and lead them to the room. Sonya was inside, laying on her bed. It looked like she was staring right at them through the windows. Oz motioned for her to come to the door.

"No good," Doyle told him. "Those are two-way mirrors. We can see in. She cannae see out."

They went to the door, but it was locked with another electronic, keypad lock. Oz punched in the number he'd memorized from before, but the number was rejected. Then an alarm went off. Oz turned around, grabbed a nearby chair, and with one hand threw it at the window with all his Slayer-strength behind it. There was a loud sound as the chair broke into bits. The window was scarcely dented. Sonya didn't even move. She hadn't heard a thing.

"They must be enchanted, man," Doyle said. "Or really strong. These guys don' want nothin' gettin' in or outta there wi'out their say so."

"Oz!" Cordelia exclaimed. "We've got to get out of here. We know where she is now. We can come back for her."

"I'm not leaving with out her!" Oz insisted.

Cordelia reached into her pocket, pulled out the ring and gave it to Doyle. "Here. Put this on and follow us. It will make you, and anything you touch, invisible. We can fight our way out -- we have some of Buffy's Slayer power. It's a long story, don't ask. But you use this and get the hell out of here!"

Doyle looked at the ring, and then back at Cordelia. "I'm not leaving you."

Cordelia glared at him. "Don't leave then, but put on the ring. It's the only advantage you've got right now, and, in case you haven't noticed, you look like crap. I don't think you could fight very well even in your demon form after whatever they did to you."

Doyle did still feel less that his best after the whole electric shock treatment from earlier. Secretly, he thought that the flighty beauty was revealing some impressive hidden depths during this whole thing. Putting the ring on, he said, "Let's go, and I'll be yer secret back up."

Cordelia turned to Oz, still trying to find a way through the door. "We can't do it, Oz!" she told him. The alarm was getting louder. "We've got to get out of here and try again later."

He turned and glared at her. Cordelia winced at the anguish in his eyes.

"Oz," she said, more softly, "Sonya wouldn't want any of us to get killed for her, especially you. If we could do this once, we can do this again. We *will* get her back."

The light of hope in Oz's eyes died, but he finally gave in to Cordelia's demands. "Let's go."

They ran up the stairs -- Cordelia assumed the invisible Doyle was behind them -- and out into the entry way. Up here, she could not hear the alarm, so maybe they still had a chance.

They were making best possible speed for the door when someone crashed straight into Cordelia. She flipped to her feet, reached out and grabbed the person by the arms, ready to use her new strength however she had to, and then she recognized the person she was holding with his feet dangling a little off the floor.

"Xander? You're alive!"

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

Those in the room where the tribunal was being held had no idea what was going on elsewhere in the mansion. They couldn't hear any alarms coming from the floor beneath them, even though the silence was thick as they waited for the judges to come out again.

Finally, Marcus announced the judges, and Aidan and Chamberlain came out to take their seats. Buffy was just beginning to wonder what had happened to Gwendolyn, when the woman came out, her cheeks a little pinker than usual and still straightening her gown.

As Buffy watched, a man came and whispered something to Marcus. Marcus motioned for the man to leave, and then went up to the proconsul and whispered something in the third man's ear. Chamberlain's face twitched and then went unfathomable again. He whispered something to Marcus, and the lackey disappeared.

Chamberlain looked at Barrows and Wesley. "Are there any further arguments, or have we heard them all?"

Barrows said smugly, "The prosecution has presented all relevant evidence, sir."

Chamberlain nodded and turned to Wesley. "Mr. Windham-Price?"

Wesley stood, and swallowed nervously. "The defense calls..."

Giles reached out and touched Wesley's jacket, stopping his words. Then, as Buffy watched, Giles said something in a soft tone that made Wesley's eyes go wide behind his glasses. The two men seemed to disagree about something for a moment, but Giles won the argument.

Wesley turned around and said to the room at large, "Mr. Giles has elected not to testify in his own behalf, so the defense has nothing else to offer in this matter. We just hope that you will think about all this with open minds before you make your decision and realize that there is more to everything than meets the eye."

Chamberlain gave Wesley a tight smile. "I'm sure there is, Mr. Windham-Price." To everyone, he said, "Then the tribunal judges and I will retire to chambers and discuss the case." The three judges walked out.

Buffy looked at Barrows. "What happens now?"

He smirked. "We wait. No one in their right mind will leave the room now. They won't want to miss the end results."

Buffy sighed deeply, then schooled her face to look nonchalant as she waited.

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

Aidan followed the other two judges into the room with a sinking heart. He didn't want to vote against his former mentor. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, Aidan believed in Giles completely. Working with kids like Faith had taught Aidan that everyone has a rebellious side. Giles's past had come as a shock to Aidan, but he didn't think the man should be condemned for his actions. Lying to the Council was another story, but Aidan knew that sometimes things had to be taken into one's own hands. If Giles had not acted and instead waited for the Council to vote on things, life in Sunnydale would have been unlivable, Aidan was sure of that.

It was funny that it took sitting in judgement over his former mentor for Aidan to get his beliefs in order. He knew now that it was too late that he should have listened to Doyle from the start. Aidan was really worried about his friend. But now he didn't know where Doyle was and there was nothing he could do for Giles either.

"Well," Chamberlain said, getting the judgement started, "that was something, wasn't it?"

Gwendolyn smiled at him, but remained silent.

"So, let me be the first to state my opinion," Chamberlain went on. "I believe Mr. Giles is no longer worthy to be a Watcher. I think we have to find him guilty, and remove him from his position as Active Watcher immediately. Further punishment will be decided later, as tradition dictates, but my vote on that is that he should be expelled from the Council without further ado, if nothing else." He turned his gaze on Aidan. "What do you think, Mr. O'Shea?"

Aidan was silent for a long moment. He looked at Gwendolyn, wondering how she would vote. If she voted in favor of Giles, and he did, too, they could save him. The proconsul's vote was not given any heavier weight in such proceedings. But Gwendolyn seemed like the proconsul's lap dog. She had never contradicted him on anything Aidan had ever seen, what was the likelihood she would this time? And if he voted against the proconsul and she did not, he would be hung out to dry, too. It was a lose-lose situation, and Aidan didn't know what would be the best thing to do. Should he take the risk now, or bide his time and keep his position secure until he could help later?

He could see that Chamberlain was getting impatient behind his fake smile. Aidan had to make a decision. With a deep sigh, he said, "I agree, Proconsul Chamberlain."

"Good!" Chamberlain said, clapping Aidan on the back. "And you, Ms. Post?"

Gwendolyn's gaze was inscrutable as she said, "Of course, I agree with you, too, sir."

Aidan's heart sank even further as Chamberlain's smile widened. "Let's go back out and make our announcement."

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

It took the judges less than five minutes to make their decision. Buffy looked at Barrows in surprise. "Shouldn't that have take longer?"

"No," Barrows replied. "They are right on schedule."

Taking his seat, Chamberlain said, "Rupert Giles, please stand and face us."

Giles did as he was told. Buffy bit her lip as worries fluttered through her brain. What would happen if they found him guilty?

Chamberlain's face was unreadable as he spoke the words that sealed Giles's fate, and in some ways, Buffy's as well.

"Following the Codes of the Council, we have heard the testimonies and evaluated them fairly. We three have now come to a unanimous decision. We find you, Rupert Giles, guilty of violating the Codes on many different counts -- most importantly, you are guilty of falsifying reports, becoming too involved with *both* of your Slayers, breaking into the Compound and stealing information, revealing our secrets to many outsiders and, finally, of taking it upon yourself to Choose the next Slayer instead of leaving it to the mystical fates as has been done for centuries. As such, you are immediately deposed from the status of Active Watcher. The Board of Directors is to be assembled immediately to help us decide your sentence. Do you have any questions?"

Giles looked at Chamberlain calmly. His face had gone pale, but otherwise he did nothing to show how the sentence made him feel. "No questions at all, Proconsul."

"Good," Chamberlain replied. He looked at the front row of those sitting in the spectator area. "Are the Board members present and accounted for?"

The first row center, twelve men and women wearing the traditional tweed, stood up and began to file out toward the chambers in the back. The proconsul motioned to two guards who moved to stand next to Giles and Wesley. Then he, Gwendolyn and Aidan joined the disappearing group, heading off to decide Giles's fate once and for all.

Buffy watched them leave, conscious of Barrows next to her and his tiny, self-satisfied smile.. Only one thought went through her head. (What am I going to do now?)
Sunnydale

Terrance was silent as he drove Amy's car back to the motel where he and the other commandos were staying.

"So," Amy said finally, hoping to break the silence. "Are you really doing OK, Terrance? You're not usually this quiet."(It's almost like he's forgotten I'm even here) she thought, a worried frown wrinkling her forehead.

He glanced away from the road and gave her his best smile, the one that always melted her heart. "I'm actually doing much better just being in your presence, Amy."

"Really?" Amy couldn't stop her giggle of happiness, or her blush.

Soon they pulled into the parking lot, and Terrance stopped the car. "Do you want to come with me to my room?"

"Are we going to call Jenny?" Amy asked. She didn't want to bring the subject of Terrance's problems with Angel up again, but it really needed to be addressed. Every time he looked at her, her eyes were drawn to the huge, purple smudge decorating his jawline.

Terrance paused for a second, and then he said, "Perhaps. But first I've got to see if Faith ever came back."

Amy nodded. They got out of the car, and she followed him back to his room. Terrance unlocked the door and let Amy in. When he didn't follow her over the threshold, she turned back and looked at him quizzically.

"I am just going to check if anyone is in the girls' room," Terrance explained. "It doesn't look like Rio is in here, so just make yourself comfortable until I get back."

"All right." Amy smiled at him.

After Terrance closed the door, Amy walked over and picked up the phone. (Might as well check my messages while I'm waiting) she thought, and quickly dialed the number.

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

"So, what do you want from us?" Jenny asked Faith. The teacher had her hands on her hips, and was giving Faith her most teacherly look.

Angel looked at Faith, wondering what the girl would say. Jenny's words from before -- words of distrust for Faith and her motives, in addition to the motives of all those on her team -- echoed in Angel's mind. He had to wonder about her true motives. Angel wanted to believe in Faith and her honesty, despite all the mixed feelings they had between them, but he needed a little proof.

Faith glared right back at Jenny. She was not about to be intimidated by a mere teacher. She had faced much worse in her short life. "You guys are supposed to be helping me! At least, that's what you said when all this started. I thought you would help me find my missing team. If not, maybe I should go!" She turned and headed for the door.

Angel grabbed her arm, stopping her forward momentum. "Wait! We want to find your team as much as you do. And we want to find Amy. She's missing, too."

"Yes," Jenny interjected. She narrowed her eyes on Faith. "But what are you going to do if we find out that your team members are involved in these attacks?"

Faith jerked her arm out of Angel's grasp and walked in front of Jenny. Faith put her hands on her hips and bit out each word of her reply with exacting, angry enunciation. "*If* my team members are involved in these attacks then they will be dealt with. And not just by me! But, if they are not involved, then you two will have to apologize to each and every one of them."

"Fine," Jenny replied with a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. "Now we have to figure out a plan." Her gaze flashed to Angel, and the vampire saw something he didn't understand in their flashing depths. "Angel, Giles left you in charge here. Any ideas?"

Angel turned to Faith. "When was the last time you saw them?"

Faith's face went blank. "Last night."

"They've been gone all night?" Jenny demanded. "This is not good. They could have been out there doing anything!"

Angel was glad, for once, that he was a vampire. He couldn't blush. He knew why Faith hadn't seen them since the night before, but he sure wasn't going to tell Jenny all the juicy details about his latest romp in the sack with Faith.

Faith paused for a second, then she said, "I haven't seen them since last night because I did not spend the night at the motel."

If Jenny was taken aback by the declaration, she hid it well. "Oh, really? And what, pray tell, were you doing?"

The commando's hands were back on her hips as she faced down the computer teacher/witch. "Yes, really. But my personal life is not up for debate here. I can do whatever ... or whomever ... I want when I'm not patrolling. That doesn't change the fact that my team is missing, and I will do whatever I have to, to find them."

Jenny stared Faith down for a few tense seconds. Neither woman moved a muscle. Then Jenny relaxed and said, "So, how do you suggest we find them?"

Faith loosened her stance, too. "I wish I knew. Then I wouldn't have had to come here."

"Ladies," Angel interrupted suddenly. "I have an idea."

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

It didn't take Amy long to dial her home phone number and connect to her answering machine. There was only one message, and it was from Jenny.

"Amy, it's Jenny. When you get this, call either me or Angel as soon as possible."

Amy frowned, hearing an underlying tension in her mentor's voice. It sounded like something was wrong. Jenny usually didn't call her in the middle of the day, and if she did, she usually gave more information than that.

Deciding that she should call and check in, Amy click the button to hang up the phone. Then she started to dial the number of Jenny's apartment. The phone rang on the other end, but Jenny didn't answer. Amy got the machine. She decided that she should try the condo, but Amy decided to leave a message at Jenny's, just in case.

"Hi, Jenny. It's Amy," Amy said, putting as much cheer into her voice as possible to assure Jenny that whatever was wrong, it wasn't with her. "Terrance and I had plans, which is why I missed your call. Right now I'm in his motel room. We will probably catch up with you shortly, or I will try and reach you at the condo. Terrance has some issues to work out with Angel. Well, I'll talk to you soon!"

As Amy hung up the phone, the door opened and Terrance walked into the room.

"Was Faith here?" Amy asked, letting go of the phone as it clicked into place.

Terrance's eyes looked at the phone suspiciously. "No," he answered shortly, "I don't know where she went, and I'm not sure I should even care. She obviously doesn't care about us! Who were you calling?"

Amy frowned at Terrance's harsh reaction. That wasn't the boy she knew. Her voice was soft as she answered his question. "I just called home to check my messages. Is something wrong?"

Terrance seemed to push his attitude away, and he smiled at her. His smile made Amy feel better. He sat down next to her on the bed and assured her, "Of course, nothing's wrong with that. I'm just upset about Faith."

"You sure are," Amy replied. There was a niggling worry in the back of her mind, but she tried to push it away. She didn't want there to be a worry, or anything bad when she was with Terrance. It had been a long time since she met a boy she was this interested in, who was interested in her, too, and she didn't want to spoil that for anything. Looking up into his blue eyes, she asked, "So... what are we going to do now?"

"It's a bit of a surprise," Terrance told her, giving her the smile that made tingles shoot up her spine. "But it starts something like this." He leaned in and kissed her.

The tingles in her spine increased to full-fledged sparks that radiated from every inch of their touching skin. Amy surrendered to the kiss with a small sigh. She knew there were other, more important things, she was supposed to be doing, but that didn't matter when she was in Terrance's arms.

He reached up with one hand and cupped the back of her head. His fingers wound themselves up in her long, blonde curls and tickled her scalp. His other hand found its way under her shirt, but instead of wandering into forbidden territory this time, it was content to draw circles on her back.

The kiss deepened even more, and Amy felt the sparks increase until her head was whirling. She grabbed on to his shoulders for support. Terrance pulled back, and Amy looked up at him. The room was spinning around her. His cheeks were flushed. The last thing Amy heard as she fell into unconsciousness was his whisper next to her ear. "You, my sweet, are amazing."

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

"When you said you had an idea, I thought you meant something more than random patrolling." Faith broke the awkward silence between herself and Angel with the snide comment.

Angel glanced at her briefly, noting the way her face looked illuminated by the last vestiges of indirect sunlight. It was dusk, and the actual sun had recently dropped below the horizon, freeing Angel to patrol without a blanket or sewer ducts.

"This isn't just 'random' patrolling," he answered her finally. "We're checking out the places that Terrance seemed particularly interested in last night. When we patrolled together, he was extremely curious about every park and cemetery, in addition to a few other, more habitable places. It's likely that he was doing that to find a well, lair, for lack of a better word, for himself and the others."

"Oh." Faith scanned the surrounding cemetery with renewed vigor. "I guess that makes sense."

"Thank you," Angel said, glad that she'd finally seen something his way. It was a small victory, but a sweet one. "If you have any ideas of places he seemed to like, we could try them, too."

Faith nodded. "I'll let you know."

Angel sighed as she lapsed back into silence again. He hoped Jenny was having better luck. Her assignment had been to try all the public places: the mall, restaurants and hangouts Amy and/or Terrance liked, etc. The more time that passed with no word, the more worried Angel became for Amy's welfare, though, diplomatically, he decided not to share that with Faith just yet.

They continued on their way, fanning out and working together to scour each place they recognized. Angel thought about asking Faith where she stood on the whole Terrance-commando issue, but he didn't. Though part of him wanted to know, the other part was afraid to hear, afraid that Faith would say something that Angel could not condone. So, he waited, and they continued patrolling, hoping against hope they could find Amy, and soon.

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

When Amy opened her eyes, she didn't know where she was. It wasn't the motel. She found herself lying on a small bed. Tied down was more accurate. From her position, she could see a window. It was dark outside. (How long have I been unconscious?) Amy thought, panicking.

Craning her neck, Amy could see that she was in some sort of warehouse. She had never been here before, but it looked just like an old, abandoned warehouse should look. Except for this bedroom suite in the corner.

"Amy. You're awake." Terrance came into view above her.

She jerked reflexively, but she couldn't move anywhere. He sat down on the bed next to her. The springs creaked.

"What did you do to me?" Amy asked. Tears had already formed in the corners of her eyes. Her Terrance -- her sweet, handsome, bone melting, almost boyfriend -- couldn't have really done this, could he? Part of Amy's mind wanted to convince herself it was all a dream, but in her soul she knew better. That kiss Terrance had given her. Well, the dizziness and resulting black out could not have been based on Terrance's sexual prowess alone. Something Hellmouthy was going on here, as much as Amy loathed to admit it.

Terrance reached down and caressed Amy's cheek. He tucked an errant blonde curl behind her left ear.

"Amy," he said in a low, husky voice, "you have the most amazing soul..."

"What are you talking about?" Amy bit her lip as she waited for a response. Something in the gleam of his blue eyes was scaring her even more.

"You see," Terrance explained, "I wasn't always like I am now." He made a gesture with his hand and a glass of water floated from a nearby table into his grip. "Drink?"

"No!" Amy pressed her lips together. No way was she going to ingest anything he gave her!

His eyes narrowed. "That's rather rude, don't you think?"

"When you're the one strapped down to a bed an a strange warehouse, you can talk to me about rude!" Amy snapped.

Terrance started to laugh. "You see what I mean, Amy? Your soul, your spirit, your very essence. It's beautiful and yet so strong. I need it."

"You need it?" Amy repeated for lack of anything original to say. Her mind was spinning.

"I need it," Terrance confirmed. "To keep my powers bound to my body. If I don't have it, then all the extra power living within me will burn my body up from the inside."

Her eyes widened as connections began to form in her brain. "There was no Kun'gi, was there?"

Terrance's eyes narrowed in response. "Unluckily for us, there was. And he was innocent."

"The others are in on this, too?" Amy gasped. "Rio? Nicole? Faith?"

Terrance reached down and smoothed her hair off of her forehead. "There's no need to worry your pretty head about any more of this, Amy. Soon, you'll be in a new place, where none of this matters."

"What you mean is you're going to kill me!" Amy glared at him, pain evident in her gaze. "Was that what it was about from the beginning? You just seduced me to kill me and steal my soul, or my essence, or whatever."

"Of course not!" Terrance looked genuinely affronted. "It wasn't until I kissed you that first time that I realized what a powerful spirit you had."

"That makes it all better," Amy muttered.

His hand in her hair stiffened, pulling several strands painfully tight. "Be quiet, Amy. Transference is a spiritual thing. You're ruining it."

He leaned in -- a mockery of the sleeping beauty scenario. Amy shrank back on the pillow, but she didn't have very far to go. He closed his eyes for the kiss. She would have twisted her head away if an unseen force hadn't held it in place. Terrance's lips touched hers, and she felt the tingling again. But this time, it was in no way pleasant.

"Terrance, stop it!"

He jerked off of her, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. A rescuer had arrived! Then she looked over his shoulder to see who it was. "Nicole."

The red headed commando spared Amy a tiny glance before turning her attention to Terrance. She was holding a thin, leather-bound book. "Terrance, you cannot have this one."

His handsome face contorted into an expression of dismay. "Why not, Nicole? You knew that I wanted her..."

"If you must, you may have her later, but right now, we need her alive."

Terrance stood and walked over to Nicole. "What are you talking about?"

"We've found a way for you two to bind your powers to your physical bodies permanently."

Amy craned her neck and saw Rio making his way into the room.

"What do you mean?" Terrance asked. Amy shuddered to think what they could mean, but at least it had bought her a little time before becoming a shriveled up husk.

Nicole gestured to Terrance with the book. "Do you know what I have here?"

"No," Terrance replied, his patience obviously waning. "Report, Nicole! And hurry up about it."

"You are not my commanding officer yet," Nicole protested.

Rio stepped forward, interrupting the brewing argument. "That is the Watcher Diary of one Rupert Giles. I found it in the office of the library at the high school."

"Yes, yes," Terrance said, nodding. "Nicole found the spare key at the condo. Go on."

"This book is a record of all events on the Hellmouth by the Watcher in charge," Rio explained.

"A soon-to-be-deposed Watcher," Terrance corrected.

"Yes," Rio replied. "But that is not important. The entry for the night when he took it upon himself to move the powers is what's important." Rio paused. Seeing that Terrance was not going to interrupt again, he took the book from Nicole, opened it to a certain page and gave it to Terrance. "This entry details the kidnapping of one Buffy Summers by a druidic sorcerer named Nathan. Nathan was an expert in transference. He moved his whole consciousness, along with his powers, into many different bodies, expanding his lifetime with each host. The problem was that his hosts, especially those not of druidic descent, could not physically handle all the powers."

"It would burn up their life force from the inside," Nicole spoke up, excitement flashing in her eyes. "But this Nathan had a solution." She paused, a flash of guilt coming over her face, but the momentary lapse was soon replaced by excitement.

"Yes?" Terrance prompted, interested in the story now.

"The solution was the life force of a potential Slayer," Nicole finished.

Terrance ingested that thought for a moment. "How do you know it would work? His situation is somewhat different than ours."

"Not all that different," Rio replied. "I've been researching Council records. A potential Slayer disappeared two weeks after Nathan left the Hellmouth and the Order of Taraka. She was never seen again. It is plausible that he kidnapped her and used her for the ritual instead of Buffy. And then, later in this diary, Nathan came back to Sunnydale."

"And his activities led to the crippled ex-Slayer's renewed ability to walk," Terrance supplied. "I know that."

"What you don't know," Rio said softly, "is that when you compare Giles's debriefings of Buffy from the first time, and Sonya from the second time, Nathan is vastly changed. The first time, Buffy noted Nathan seemed ill. He coughed and took herbs to strengthen himself. But, later Sonya reports no such weakness. Only a strong, competent sorcerer."

"Until they thwarted his plans." Terrance looked at Rio closely. "Do you really think this will work?"

"It has worked already," Rio replied. "And I can do the spell."

Nicole grabbed Terrance's arm. "Rio is a good warlock. He's been practicing since he was practically a babe in arms. This will work, Terrance. Think if it. One more death, and we will never have to kill again. Our work will go on, and we can focus on saving the innocent, like we were meant to."

Terrance's gaze lingered on Amy for a moment. "True. But we will have to eliminate any witnesses."

"Of course," Rio said. "But not at this precise moment. We must have something to lure our exalted commander here." His dark eyes gleamed as he focused on Amy for the first time. "Congratulations, Amy. You've just been given a stay of execution."

The three commandos started when they heard a loud noise, sort of like a bang, coming from the other side of the warehouse.

Terrance motioned to the others, and they fell into a familiar, three-pronged attack pattern. Quietly, powers at the ready, they moved toward where the noise had been. But when they got there, they saw nothing but the door swinging in the wind.

Dropping his tense, attack posture, Terrance slammed the door shut and locked it. He glanced at Rio and said, "Next time you come in late, shut the door all the way."

As Terrance turned back toward the interior of the warehouse and Amy, followed by Nicole, Rio paused and looked at the now-locked door. "I thought I did..."

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

Jaques galloped through the night, sometimes upright and sometimes on all fours, the only thought in his feral mind to get back to his mistress with this news. He didn't quite know what had been going on in the warehouse, but his mistress had sent him to gather the information, so now he had to get it back to her.

When he reached their home, he ran into his mistress's bedroom. She looked at him with her special smile.

"Jaques, my darling. I hope you have returned with something interesting."

The feral vampire moved close to his mistress, keeping himself submissive to her, and allowed her to plunder his mind for his memories of the warehouse. After the golden glow faded, Jaques looked up, expecting a treat. Instead, he saw his mistress with a frown on her beautiful face.

Ignoring her minion, she stared into her hand mirror -- in which neither she, nor Jaques were reflected. "This is not what I wanted. Not at all."

Then she whispered a few words in Latin, and the surface of the mirror clouded. When it cleared, it was no longer a mirror, but a window. Jaques look inside, puzzled by his mistress's fascination. All he could see were the enemies. He growled at them, causing his mistress to smile and pat him on the head.

"Yes, Jaques, they are not for us either. But the question remains, which is worse?" Then she put the mirror down and focused on him for a change. "My pet, have I forgotten your reward for bringing me such important information?"

Jaques whimpered in response.

"Come this way," she said, crooking her finger at him. Throwing open a curtain in the corner of the room, she revealed two hostages chained to the wall -- a large man and a young girl, no more than five.

"Take your pick, my pet. But just one."

Growling in anticipation, Jaques selected his victim and dived on the man. The girl next to him shrieked in fear until his mistress took her turn.

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

After searching for several hours and coming up empty-handed, Angel and Faith returned to the condo to rendezvous with Jenny. The older woman was already there when they arrived. She was on the phone, but set the receiver back in its cradle at their approach.

Angel walked right up to her and asked, "Did you find anything?"

Jenny shook her head. "Nothing. I tried calling again, but it's still the machine."

Faith pulled her radio out for about the hundredth time that evening and tried to raise her troops. Yet again, no one responded on any frequency.

"If all their radios aren't broken, they are going to be in so much trouble!" Faith muttered to herself.

Then they heard a knock at the door. An odd knock, accompanied by some scratching. Jenny, Faith and Angel exchanged looks, all getting a feeling of foreboding from the situation. Then, without having to speak, the three warriors moved into position. Faith prepared to open the door. Angel stood at the ready to lash out at anything that came in. Jenny stood back, ready with a defense spell of her own design.

On Angel's silent count of three, Faith threw open the door. Angel leapt out, ready to strike any errant commando or vampire down. But there was nothing there. Angel straightened up and looked around, puzzled.

"Look," Faith said, pointing down by his feet. Angel reached down and picked up a piece of white parchment.

Stepping inside, Angel unrolled the parchment and read it aloud. The astonishment in his voice grew with every word. "The girl, Amy, has been taken to an old warehouse on the corner of Fourth Street and Elm. Much is being planned by your enemies from across the ocean. Take care with how you proceed." He looked up at Faith and Jenny. "It's signed, 'A Friend.'"

Jenny took the parchment and began to examine it.

"This smells like a trap," Faith objected.

"I can feel the magic radiating off of this," Jenny spoke up. "And it doesn't feel like Rio, or either of the others. This is something much older, much more powerful. It has a feeling of the night in it, too."

There was a crashing noise outside. Angel threw open the door again just in time to see Jaques running away down the street. Angel knew he could have taken the feral out, but it had enough of a head start to be difficult, and they didn't have a lot of time to spare right now.

He came in and told them what he'd seen. "The new question is who's trying to trap us, and why?"

Suddenly there was a burst of static from the radio hooked on Faith's belt. They all looked at it. Faith picked it up. "Report."

Nicole's voice was barely audible over the static. "Faith. Come quick. Please. It's got Amy." She mumbled an address and then the radio went dead.

Angel and Jenny exchanged glances. "That's the same address as in the note," Jenny remarked, just in case Faith hadn't caught that.

"That still doesn't prove anything!" Faith retorted.

"But it does mean that we've got to be careful," Angel told her. "Of everybody."

Faith nodded, willing to admit the possibility. In Angel's opinion, that was progress. He opened the door and looked back at Jenny and Faith. "Ready?" They both nodded and preceded him out the door.