Chapter 2
Xander wiped the sweat from his forehead before rolling over onto his back, exhausted and out of breath. "Sorry An, honey," He squeezed out in between breaths. "I just can't keep going."
"Are you sure?" Her disappointment was obvious as she turned to face him. "Another couple of minutes and you would've been there…Please?" She lay on the bed, her eyes pleading with his as she gently bit her bottom lip.
"You know I love making you happy sweetheart and I know how much you enjoy it, but I really can't. I wish I could, but I'm so worn out." His bare chest heaved as the sweat glistened on his skin, the occasional droplet trickling down the side of his torso. He faced the ceiling, before letting out a loud sigh.
"Well…okay." She picked up a small book from the bedside table and flicked a couple of pages before sitting up excitedly. "This one looks good! Maybe you could have a go at it later?"
"Ah, come on An. I've already done pages thirteen through twenty-six today. Maybe tomorrow, okay? I mean I'm not the Duracell bu…er...battery thing." He looked at Anya's face as the excitement left her eyes to be replaced with acceptance of defeat, her lips pushed out into a pout. He smiled a little; she looked so cute when she did that.
"Tomorrow then." She crawled onto her front and lay across the bed with her face perched between her hands, her elbows resting on the edge. She looked at Xander lying on the floor. "You know I love watching you exercise. All the flexing muscles and the sweating." She smiled down at him, her small camisole top exposing a large portion of her breasts, which caught Xander's attention.
"Well maybe there's one more exercise I could manage." The familiar look in his eye informed Anya just what he was thinking. She adjusted herself slightly, pushing her chest out at him.
"What might that be then?"
"Well, It would involve a lot of muscle flexing…" Xander grinned. "And most likely some sweating."
"But honey, I thought you were to worn out?" She enjoyed playing this game, teasing Xander with her body. She knew he enjoyed it too.
"Well, you could come here and help me out?" He extended his hand to her. Anya rolled onto her side and swung her legs around over the edge of the bed, placing her feet on the floor as she brought her body upright. Slowly she stood.
Xander's eyes took in her body. From her feet, over her smooth calves, up over her toned thighs and her slender hips, past her midriff and her pert breasts, her soft neck and finally to her face, where she looked back at him suggestively. She wore only a small pair of black, lacy knickers that matched her camisole. Xander watched intently as she walked over to him and stood astride his legs, taking his hand in hers.
"Ready?" Anya began to pull on Xander's arm in an attempt to help him to his feet. But instead of accepting her assistance, he pulled back, bringing Anya down on top of him. "Xander!" She squealed as he pulled her closer, their faces only inches apart.
"How are you liking the exercising so far?" He kissed the tip of Anya's nose before pressing his lips to hers, relishing in their soft, warm moistness. Anya's hand curled around the back of his head, pulling him up so that their kiss became more passionate. He could feel the blood coursing through his veins; the adrenalin surge from his excitement giving him renewed vigour. Anya groaned as she felt his arousal pushing between her legs.
"Mmm, Xander," She whispered into his ear, her voice low and full of pleasure. "You should've said." She pushed her hips back into him, increasing the pressure on his groin.
His hands grasped at her hips as he pushed against her. Resuming their kiss, their lips parted as the passion grew, tongues intertwined, fluids mingled, their embrace growing tighter. Xander could feel her heat against his hardness. His hand slid from her hip and traced a route over her smooth skin, along her spine. She arched her back and quivered in reaction to his touch. His fingers moved underneath the flimsy material of her loose top and continued round to her side, just brushing the sensitive skin of her swollen breast. A small gasp escaped her mouth.
Anya sat up straight and looked down with lustful eyes. She crossed her arms in front of her as she took hold of her top, lifting it, slowly up over her head, exposing herself to her lover. She reached down, took hold of Xander's hands and lifted them to her chest. He encompassed her flesh, the hard buds of her aroused nipples pushed into his palms as he gently squeezed. She placed her hands flat on his chest as she began to rhythmically move her hips back and forth. The feeling of his hardness rubbing against her moist, excited sex through the layers of material sent a tingle through her body.
Xander brought himself up to her, kissing her neck and running his tongue over her salty skin. He reached down with one hand, caressing her thigh and gliding onto her firm buttock. Her movements became more agitated as he kissed down her neck, over her well-defined collarbone and onto the swell of her breast. He continued further still, his mouth deliberately avoiding the tight flesh of her areole.
Anya, not wanting to be teased, reached behind his head and guided him to her nipple, which he took eagerly into his hot mouth. His tongue danced across the erect pink tip as he felt a small shiver of pleasure run through her body. She arched back, pushing her breast to him as her hand reached behind and found his muscular thigh. Moving up his leg and over his boxer shorts, squeezing the base of his erect manhood through the thin material. Xander's whole body stiffened with anticipation.
Anya took control, comfortable in a more dominating role. He placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backward, laying him flat on his back. She leant forward and began to kiss his chest, her soft lips barely touching his skin. He moaned her name as her mouth reached his nipple. Her tongue darted over the small bump of hardened flesh before trailing across his breastbone and treating the other nipple to the same pleasure. She began to move down his body, her mouth kissing and occasionally biting gently as she descended. Hooking her fingers under the waistband of is underwear; she eased them down over his buttocks and thighs, his rigid shaft stood exposed as she closed in on it. Xander trembled. He could feel her hot breath only an inch from his throbbing erection. The anticipation was overwhelming. She lowered her head and extended her moist tongue and then slowly she glided it up the length of his shaft. His hips bucked at the sensation. Bringing her head up, her lips parted as she hovered over the tip, teasingly close. There she stayed for a minute, watching Xander shiver with excitement, before sliding her moist lips over the tip of his hardness, using her tongue to swirl around the hot flesh in her mouth. He tensed, all the muscles in his body becoming rigid. His fingers dug into the carpet, trying to grip the floor as if hanging on for dear life. Anya rolled her tongue around, teasing his glands with its snake-like dance. Finally she lowered her head, his large shaft filling her mouth completely. Underneath her, Xander's legs twitched in ecstasy. She built a rhythm, slowly at first, then gradually increasing her pace. Her head bobbed as she pleasured her lover.
The minutes she spent doing this, Xander was in heaven. The familiar feelings that started to tingle in his testicles as they tightened warned him of impending climax. He sat up and, with a twinge of regret, gently pulled Anya up to face him.
The kiss that followed was passionate and full of hunger for each other. He pulled his legs from beneath her and stood up, removing his boxers completely in the process. He bent down to Anya and placed an arm around her back, his hand resting below her armpit. His other arm curled under her knees. With hardly any effort made, he swept Anya from the floor and cradled her in his arms. He stared into her eyes as he slowly walked over to the bed, where he placed her down gently. He lay almost on top of her, taking his weight on one arm as he pressed his lips to hers. His leg moved between hers, meeting little resistance as she parted them slightly. His free hand wandered down to the cleft of her thighs, there to press the thin material of her knickers against the moist heat of her arousal. A soft moan escaped her lips as she parted her legs further. Xander ran his fingers along the seam of her underwear before slipping them underneath. His heartbeat increased as his probing digits were met by the creamy wetness between her legs.
He teased around the fleshy outer lips before sliding a finger inside. She writhed in ecstasy at his touch, her internal muscles squeezing his finger. She wanted him inside her. But Xander had other plans.
He moved his head to her swollen breasts, where he pleasured each nipple in turn, flicking his tongue across the hardened flesh. He continued onward toward her stomach, kissing her navel before easing his fingers under the lacy band of her underwear. He slowly removed the item of clothing and knelt on the floor. He turned his attention to her feet, caressing them and kissing their soles. Anya's breathing had become heavy and laboured under the onslaught of sensations that raced through her body. Xander moved up her legs, kissing over her smooth ankles and up her calves. He reached the back of her knees and with a knowing smile, traced his tongue across the crease, pausing at the small pit and tickling it with his tongue. Anya squirmed as Xander continued up the inside of her thighs, the soft warm flesh heaven beneath his lips. Her scent was in his nose as he reached the tops of her legs; she lay on display to him, her glistening sex crying out for attention.
His hands gently parted her, exposing the tender flesh of her most intimate opening, the swollen bud of her clitoris tempting his eager tongue. Anya's body trembled as he took the small protuberance between his lips, gently adding pressure while lightly circling the tip with his tongue. He added to the sensation by pushing one finger, then two inside her. The rhythm of his hand coupled with his oral skills brought Anya to a shuddering climax, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave as her legs clamped around Xander's head. He continued pleasuring her until she was overcome with the need for something more. Now she had to have him inside her, she couldn't wait any longer; she needed to feel his presence inside her body.
She pulled Xander up, the pleading in her eyes telling him what she needed. He positioned himself at her entrance, the soft tip of his manhood pressing against the fleshy folds of her labia. Slowly and gently he began to ease into her, his wide shaft spreading her open. Her legs crossed behind him and pulled him into her, his manhood buried deep inside her pulsating channel. She wanted it hard, she often felt that way after a long bout of foreplay.
With her legs she dictated the rhythm that she wanted, Xander only to happy to comply kept going after she let her feet drop back to the bed. He hooked his arms under her knees so that they sat in the crease of his elbow as their lovemaking became more frantic. He thrusted deep into her, his pace quickening as they both neared climax, their bodies becoming one entity, united in their ecstasy. With his final thrusts Anya screamed her elation as the orgasm shot through every nerve in her body as he filled her with his seed.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, exhausted. The waves of pleasure still rolled over their bodies, a gentle reminder of the heaven that they had just visited. Slowly, they began drifting off to sleep, still entwined in each other.
A light rapping at the door woke them. Xander sat up, still tired from all the physical energy he had depleted earlier. "Uh," He rubbed is eyes. "Who can that be?" He climbed out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe before heading to the door.
******
The newly painted grey-blue interior walls of Sunnydale's Police Department radiated a coldness that was barely compensated for by the ancient wall-mounted heater that rattled contentedly as it hummed with electricity. It had been a warm day, but the temperature outside had somehow failed to penetrate the building's sterile interior and now as the sky grew darker the chill in the air became even more noticeable. Just inside the main entrance, stretching along the wall was an uncomfortable looking wooden bench, capable of seating more than twenty, but tonight, only two people were on it's cold, hard surface.
Above the bench, a yellow sign dictated that no loitering was permitted. Directly below, in a blatant act of defiance, an ageing homeless man had sprawled onto the bare wood in an attempt to use it as his bed for the night, the smell of stale whiskey and beer the only things keeping him company. Perched at the very end, giving her co-habitant the occasional disdainful glance, sat a middle-aged lady who had come in to report the terrible murder of her cat and was waiting for an officer to come and take her statement.
It had been remarkably quiet for a Saturday night. The usual phone calls that came in their dozens, frequently regarding some weird and fantastical creature running rampage through someone's garden or house, never came. All-in-all Officer Davis had answered the phone three times while he sat at the reception counter, carefully stacking and re-stacking the paperwork in front of him.
The last call had been over an hour ago and he had resigned himself to the fact that his shift was going to last forever. So he got comfortable, putting his feet up on the small pedestal that he had pulled from beneath the desk and fumbling through the assortment of magazines that he kept in a small pile behind the counter. He sat back and relaxed after making his choice, his head just high enough to see if anyone approached.
Halfway through reading an interesting article on the mating habits of the Praying Mantis, a car screeched to a halt outside, grabbing his attention. Swinging his feet from the makeshift footrest, he stood up and dropped the still open magazine onto the top of it. He craned his neck to try and see what was going on, only to find that the action was taking place just around the corner of the doorway. He decided to take a look and moved decisively around the barrier between him and the entrance hall and over to the threshold.
Outside he saw a tall man, his face filled with rage. He had left his car in a hurry, the engine still running, as it stood sideways across the road, blocking the whole lane. Two police officers were trying to calm him down with little success.
"LET ME SEE HIM!" The anger was clear in his voice as he charged in an effort to break through the mini barrier that the two officers had created between him and the doorway.
"Now just take it easy!" One of the officers continued to try and calm him.
"NO, I WON'T TAKE IT EASY! THAT BASTARD IN THERE KILLED MY LITTLE GIRL!"
The look of recognition crossed their faces. "Mister...Thompson?"
"YES! NOW LET ME IN! I'M GONNA KILL THE SONOFABITCH!" He barged the first officer with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. The second officer reluctantly drew his baton and brought it down on the back of Mr. Thompson's knees, sending him sprawling across the ground. Davis ran to assist, pulling the handcuffs from his utility belt as he approached. He arrived as the second officer pinned the distraught man to the ground. Davis snapped one cuff around the thrashing wrist of Mr. Thompson and pulled it up behind his back before making a play for the second arm. Once in place the cuffs did their job of keeping his hands restrained, but the sheer determination of the grieving father took them by surprise. He struggled relentlessly, finally shaking off his repressors as he staggered to his feet, his large frame and build, powered by pure anger and grief, too strong for the officers to keep down. Unhindered, he charged into the station, past the reception, his eyes darting from left to right, looking for the right path. He saw what he wanted and ran down the long corridor leading to the cells.
"Shit!" Davis scrambled to his feet and followed as fast as he could.
The detention area was quiet but for the sound of someone approaching at speed, running. Only one of the cells was occupied, the detainee sat huddled on the lower bunk, rocking slowly, trying to comfort himself by pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. A long sliver of drool hung from his lip as he wiped his tired, tear-filled eyes with the back of his hand.
"What the hell are you crying for you sick bastard?" The large figure of the man that blocked the light from the cell must have stood at least six and a half feet tall. "What possible reason could you have?" His voice grew louder.
"I didn't do anything…I…I…"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"
"Mr. Thompson…that's enough!" Davis spoke from behind him.
"I haven't even started yet! I'm not gonna stop until I see this piece of filth dead!" The anger spilling out of him was almost tangible.
"This is your last warning. Mr Thompson, please step away now!" Davis couldn't manage to voice his authority with any degree of effectiveness.
"Just piss off and leave me alone with this scum!"
While filled with sympathy for the grieving man, Davis grew annoyed at his tone. He lifted his hand, which contained a small black box and pressed the red button on top. A thin wire shot forth, flying across the room. The tiny hooks on the end tore through material and embedded themselves in the muscular back of Mr. Thompson, followed a split second later by fifty thousand volts of electricity. The large man jerked and convulsed as the current flowed through his body before his legs buckled underneath him, his large mass crashing into the hard stone floor, still twitching.
Davis kneeled beside the unconscious man, feeling his throat for a pulse, checking that he was still alive. He looked over to the cell. "You're lucky you were locked in there." He spoke to the cowering man on the bunk.
"Who…who is he?" The feeble voice came back, choking from fear.
"This," Davis pointed to the still body on the floor. "Is Mr. Thompson, father of Jessica Thompson. You remember her don't you? She was the little girl you murdered."
"But I…I didn't kill anyone." The man pleaded from his confines.
"Yeah and I've never heard that one before." Davis stood as his fellow officers entered. They gathered around the large man on the floor and with effort lifted him and slowly moved him down the corridor, past the board on the wall that listed the inhabitants of each cell. The only name on scribbled the board…Robert Birch.
******
Xander pushed the door to the Magic Box and it swung inward with a light creak, the light jingles of the bell announcing the arrival. He stood, holding the door for Anya as she stepped into the dim light of the interior. He followed closely behind, the door swinging back behind him before jarring and flying back inwards as Spike barged through in the door. "Bloody ponce!" He aimed his derisive comment at Xander.
"Ah, bite me!" Came the swift retort. "Oh, you can't can you? Poor wittle Spikey got no fangs." The sarcasm was scathing.
"You're first when I get this soddin' chip out my head!" He walked up to Xander and came face-to-face, glaring at him.
"Back it up momma's boy!" Xander shoved Spike backward, his bravado stemming from the fact that his antagonist couldn't hurt him.
"Will you two grow up? I can't take much more of your macho posturing!" Buffy sat at the table, the rest of the gang sat around it. Books were stacked in their dozens on the surface in front of them. Xander and Spike stood, heads hanging down, looking like a couple of scolded children.
"So, what's with the Scooby meeting?" Xander finally spoke after a moment of contemplative silence. "Another big boogie man looking to find the wrong end of a stake?" He aimed the last word to the blonde vampire standing next to him.
"We don't really know what it is we're looking for." Giles snapped another book shut as he spoke. "Buffy had a dream, possibly a vision. But we think it might have something to do that." He extended a finger and guided the new arrivals eyes to the small, bloodstained doll sitting on the counter across the room.
"What the hell is that?" Spike walked over to the small toy, pulling his cigarette packet from his coat.
"Man that's spooky!" Xander stated from where he stood. "It didn't come alive or anything did it? 'Cause I saw this film once where there were a load of little doll things and they all came to life and started…"
"No, it didn't come to life Xander. It was under my pillow." Buffy stood, trying to avert her eyes from the doll, which was now in Spike's hands.
"Oh great, that's just dandy." Spike lit the cigarette in his mouth. "Now you're organising a lost and found centre for children's toys. What next? A home for mistreated pets?"
Buffy looked at him while he spoke, watching the way he moved. Rousing a desire in her body that she fought to repress. For all the loathing she had felt for him in the past, she was physically attracted to him, his power…his darkness. She spoke, more out of reflex than anything else.
"Shut up Spike!"
"Sorry Slayer, is it your turn to play?" Buffy froze as Spike casually tossed the doll in her direction. "Here you go then pet." The soft toy hit her square in the chest and fell to the floor. All she could do was stare down at it with a blank face, vaguely aware of all the eyes focused on her. Images of the dream began to flash through her mind, the small girl…falling, disappearing into nothingness. "Not again you don't!" Her thoughts were snapped back to the present as Spike took her face between his hands. "Don't want you drifting off into neverland again do we pet?"
"Uh? Oh, yeah. Sorry." Buffy, still slightly dazed, slumped back down into the chair behind her and leant on the table.
Willow reached across the table and laid her hand on Buffy's, feeling overwhelming concern for her friend. Buffy seemed weakened by the whole experience. "Are you okay?" She squeezed her companion's hand gently.
"I'll be fine Will." Buffy managed a slight smile, but the rest of her face betrayed her inner fears. "The dream was a bit unnerving, that's all." She squeezed back, trying to assure her friend that all was okay.
Buffy spent a few minutes filling Xander and Anya in on her experience as they sat at the table, listening intently.
"Man, that's horrible!" Xander exclaimed when Buffy had finished.
Anya interjected. "Yes, almost as bad as the dead child they found today."
The rest of the group stopped scouring the page of the books in front of them and looked at Anya.
"What child?" Giles questioned.
"It was on the news earlier. A child was found dead in an alleyway behind Wilton Avenue this morning." She looked back at them, their faces full of apprehension. "What?"
"Is there anything else you can tell us? What did she look like? What was her name?" Giles removed his glasses.
"Well," Anya spoke, hesitantly "I think her name was Jenny…No. Jessica…Jessica Thompson! Yes that's it Jessica Thompson. They didn't really give out any other information." She grinned at the others, pleased with herself for remembering the name. Then, realising that this wasn't a moment to be happy, dropped the expression from her face.
"When did this hap..." Giles' question was cut off midway.
"She was five years old."
"That's terrible. Anya, do you remember anything else?" Giles pushed on the table as he rose to his feet.
"No, I don't think there was anything else."
"Maybe this is connected." Willow looked up at Giles. "What if it's the little girl in Buffy's dream?"
"We'll have to make some inquiries. See what we can find out about this girl." He thought for a moment. "I'll go and see what information I can get from the police. Willow, can you look on the computer? See if you can find anything on there." He turned to the Slayer. "Buffy, you should go and patrol as normal. Keep an eye out for anything untoward. Take Spike with you. We can't be too careful if this thing is real." He moved away from the table. "The rest of you should look through the books. See if you can find out what this thing is." He gathered his jacket from the counter and pulled it on. "I'll try not to be too long."
"Call us if you find out anything." Willow called out as he headed for the door.
"Don't worry, I will." With that he opened the door and stepped outside. A cool, refreshing breeze poured in through the brief opening before it closed behind him.
They all sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other before Buffy got to her feet. "I'd better go too. Spike, are you coming?"
"Lead the way pet." He gestured toward the door. Striding purposefully to the door, Buffy turned just as she pulled the handle, leaving the door slightly ajar as she spoke.
"Everybody be careful. If you see this thing…run. Run as fast as you can!" She waited for acknowledgement of her statement from the others.
"You got it Buffster!" Xander volunteered after a tense pause. "You watch your back. You never know what sort of blood-sucking scum is roaming around in this town." He cast a sharp glance at Spike, who scowled in return before walking through the now open door.
"Bloody wanker!" Spike muttered out loud, but not meaning for it to be heard.
"Excuse me?" The Slayer looked directly at his pale face, noticing the skin of his jaw pulled taut as his face contorted with frustration.
"Well…C'mon, What d'ya expect? That puffed up ponce has been riling me from the word go." He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled the nearly empty cigarette pack from its dark confines. "I need to get me some smokes."
"Fine. Over there." She pointed at the small store that was still open on the corner. "How do you think people are going to react? Not so long ago you would have been at our throats given half a chance! You can't expect people to change because of a chip in your head. It's going to take more than that. It's going to take time. Remember…Patience is a virtue."
"Hello? Vampire? Virtue's ain't really one of my strengths love." His lips curled into a sarcastic grin as he began to cross the road. 'But time," he shouted as reached the other side "Now time is something I've got a load of."
"Though I'm not sure I can say the same about me." Buffy muttered to herself as she continued to stroll along the sidewalk.
******
Willow turned from her laptop. "Well I can't find anything that matches Buffy's description." She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Apart from the obvious references to the Grim Reaper. But there's no decisive information on him. Just a bunch of arguments on message boards about whether he was a Greek God called Kronos who chopped off his father's…" A look of embarrassment flashed across her innocent face as her eyes motioned downward. "Err…Manparts." She continued "Or just the plain old, run of the mill Angel of Death. How about you guys? Anything?"
Xander was still wincing with his legs clamped together when Willow asked the question. "May I just take a second here to say – Ouch! And may I add …" He screwed his face into a painful grimace and inhaled sharply through his pursed lips. "
"Well if it's him, I want you to stay well away Xander. I like your penis where it is." Anya interjected bluntly. A small grin spread across Willow's face.
"Don't worry sweetheart. If it turns out to be Mr Slicendice then you can contact me at my summer house in The-hell-outta-here!" Xander closed the book he had been searching through and placed it on top of the pile that he had already gone through. There were only a few books left that might have any information in them. He handed one to Willow and took one for himself.
"Gee, thanks!" Willow's sarcasm was light hearted.
"You must become one with the written word. Books are the true fountains of knowledge and you must embrace their power. Shun your evil electronic computer doohickey thing and send it back from whence it came!" Xander's poor excuse for a parody of Giles set Willow giggling while Anya looked on, confused by what had just happened.
"I don't believe I've ever called it a 'doohickey'!" The voice from near the shop door took them by surprise.
"Giles! Sorry, we didn't hear you come back." Willow stood, her giggles barely hidden beneath the serious mask she had put on her face. Xander's mind searched rapidly for a way to divert attention from the subject.
"Did you find out anything?" He blurted.
"Well yes and no. I have found out that this girl isn't the only one to have been found dead in the last few months. But there is absolutely no indication as to the cause of her death." He looked drained. The thought of a child's death was always so much harder to accept than the death of an adult. All that innocence ripped away from them.
"How do you know that the others are connected?" Willow posed the question delicately.
"Well, I have nothing concrete. But the evidence I have points in that direction. Firstly, all of the victims had no discernable reason for dying. They just seemed to have ceased being alive." He paused to take stock. "And they were all female, aged between four and eight." He looked at the faces of his audience and could see the feeling of remorse spread across them all, even Anya's, who in the past had shown the remarkable ability to not care less unless it directly affected her. 'Maybe being human is getting to her after all.' Giles thought to himself as he watched her eyes begin to glisten with the moisture that welled in them.
"So, no ideas as to what might be doing this?" Xander sounded hopeful. If anyone had a clue, Giles would be that person.
"I'm afraid not." He removed his coat and placed it on the counter. "There are a few possibilities, but the amount of deaths and the area over which they've occurred in the time period just doesn't fit any of their behaviour patterns." Willow shuffled her feet uncomfortably.
"How many…" She struggled to get the words to leave her throat. "How many deaths are we talking about Giles?" She detested thinking about it, but she needed to know.
"In total, including Jessica, there has been fourteen in California." He studied their faces to make sure that he could give them the information that followed. "Similar cases in the last two months across the whole of the U.S. total two hundred and thirty seven which doesn't include any undiscovered or unreported victims."
"Oh my God. That's..That…" Willow's sentence was lost as she stumbled backwards, grief taking its toll. Xander moved swiftly and caught her before she fell. Gently he guided her to a chair and sat her down. Anya stepped forward and embraced Giles in a tight hug as tears began to roll down her normally rosy face. Slightly taken aback, Giles returned the hug as he reassuringly stroked Anya's back.
After a few moments he spoke, the grief having affected him more than he would care to admit. "I really am clueless as to what could be doing this. But whatever it is must be stopped. Now."
"The bastard's gonna pay!" Xander's sadness had mixed with anger. The ferocity of the words issued from his mouth took his friends by surprise as they all stared at him. "Sorry." Willow reached out and took his hand in hers, understanding his anguish, she squeezed softly.
******
Beneath the streets of Sunnydale, beneath the sewers, beneath the old tunnels that formed a labyrinthine network under the town where so many of Sunnydale's demonic interlopers had made their lair, something stirred. Something ancient.