Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat?

A/N: Just a thank you for all the kind words — the reviews make me want to keep posting, and I appreciate every one. Thanks J

Chapter Four — Questions and Answers

CJ heard a shout from Will and turned from the sexy grin of Rupert Giles to find something tall, dark, and hairy — and identical to the monsters in her dreams of Zoey - with its jaws clamped on the speechwriter's neck. The karate coach was shouting orders to the others while she reached into her bag and pulled various objects out.

Before CJ had time to question, a piece of wood was shoved into her hand and more of the creatures were emerging from behind headstones and between bushes. She turned to Giles and waved the stick around. "What -?"

"We've been ambushed. You will not believe me, but these are honest-to-goodness vampires. They turn to dust when you shove that stake through their hearts."

CJ stared vapidly. Crazy people. These were crazy people, and they were going to murder someone. She looked over to where the Latina woman was kicking and punching one of the things with strength beyond that of a normal human. They were going to get thrown in prison — she could see the headlines, "White House staff jailed for murder." And then, Ms. De Vega thrust the stake through the heart of the man attacking her — and he exploded into a shower of dust.

She turned back to Giles to demand more information only to find the British man locked in combat with not one, but two monsters. Without a second thought, she charged at one.

It was instinctive. A side kick to the monster's chest, a left-handed punch to its jaw. It retaliated by trying to sweep her feet out from under her, but she was faster, and landed another kick to its stomach. The thing hunched over from the force of her foot's impact and, driven by something beyond fear, she sunk the stake through its back with all her newfound strength. Just as the other one had done, it burst into dust, which floated away on the breeze and coated her suit in brown earth.

"Oh my God," she whispered, glancing up in time to catch Rupert Giles take out the thing — the vampire — he'd been fighting. "God, God, God... those were really... but how did I know how to..."

Sam was staring at her from the ground, where he was winded and clutching at a nasty looking cut across his forehead. "Jesus Christ, CJ, where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Giles dusted himself off and moved over to gingerly remove the stake from CJ's fist. She didn't fight it. "Miss Cregg, I know you've found today to be... difficult, for many reasons. But earlier, around the time you heard about the earthquake in Sunnydale, did you start to break things? Did it seem as though you had more strength than before?"

"A mug... and a zipper... bent a spoon..." CJ whispered. "I broke a door, it shattered the glass, and Carol got hurt..." She watched as Sam was hauled to his feet by Ms. De Vega, and Ms. Rosenberg pulled his hand away and started tending to the cut.

"When you were between the ages of 13 and 18, was there a British faculty member at your school?"

"I changed schools. There were... yeah, there was a different one at each school, but I didn't think... Mr. Price the librarian and Mr. Pullman the gym teacher, the soccer coach. But why is that —?"

Giles cut her off. "They were your Watchers, Miss Cregg. Into each generation is born a Slayer, one girl in all the world chosen as an instrument of Good to fight vampires and demons. The next Slayer is Chosen when the previous dies. Slayers are likely to be Called between the ages of 13 and 18; Potentials who age beyond are unlikely to be a Slayer. Did you turn 18 in high school?"

"Yeah... and Mr. Pullman retired that year..." CJ stared down at her hands. "Wait, does that mean this Slayer person died in the earthquake? And through some fluke, I'm the next one?"

"It's more difficult than that. Buffy, the Slayer, was trying to prevent a great evil from destroying the world. Willow found a spell to help, and Called every Potential to be a Slayer, all across the globe. Kennedy and Lindsay are both Slayers now, along with about 4,000 women all over the world. Willow shattered the line and gave Slayers the weapon to overcome evil." Giles came over and took CJ's shoulders carefully. "This power is a gift. You are not the Slayer, but you are a slayer, one of a community we've yet to create."

Sam finally succeeded in brushing Rosenberg and De Vega away. "While this is all well and good, I've a few questions. First and foremost — can we get out of this damned graveyard?"

Buffy crossed to CJ and Giles, half-carrying and half-dragging Will with her. She was holding a rag ripped from the hem of his shirt to a wound on his neck. "Back to the van, guys. I think the ones we dusted aren't alone. Giles — do you think this is the group holding the girl?"

"My dream!" CJ yelped. "I dreamed — I saw Zoey, and there were a bunch of things, and they were planning to sacrifice her. They were vampires, weren't they? And it wasn't just a dream." She turned to Giles, grabbing the tweed sleeve of his jacket. "Not a dream. Right?"

Sam crossed to Buffy's side and helped the woman maneuver Will's limp body. "He'll be okay, right? He won't get turned into a vampire or something?"

"He'll be fine. Just have a nasty headache from blood loss. I managed to dust the vamp before he drained Mr. Bailey here completely. And Ms. Cregg — we've all been having those dreams. They're Slayer dreams. They tell the future, and they direct which way we're supposed to go. Now, we just have to figure out where they have Zoey Bartlet."

Willow and Kennedy were taking the rear guard as they hurried back across the cemetery. "The one I dusted looked just like the guy in the dream I had in the car," Lindsay offered. "I think they must have a nest somewhere nearby."

"Danny's van better have a map of Bethesda," Sam muttered. "We can call Josh, have him drive over at dawn to jump the battery."

"We can call a cab and a tow-truck then," CJ countered. She turned to Giles then, ignoring Sam's moaning and whining. "What does all this mean to me? Will I have to leave my job and go back to California? Do I need another Watcher guy? Will my life be fighting these things?"

"We haven't worked all of the kinks out of the system, yet," the British man offered, hesitantly. "You see, we've several thousand Slayers, and no more Watchers. The evil that Buffy defeated was trying to destroy the Slayer line, and the Watchers went with them. We have a system to reinvent."

"But we can save Zoey," CJ put in, "preferably without the President knowing it wasn't the FBI?"

Giles nodded. "That we can. At least stealth is something we Watchers are good at."

+

Donna had dozed off when the phone started ringing. She was disoriented when she woke — after all, it had been years since she'd slept on Josh's couch out of her own volition, and she wondered for a few moments if she were stuck in some odd sort of dream. However, a loud thump from Josh's bedroom followed by a string of loud curses (interestingly enough, several seemed to be in languages other than English) roused Donna the rest of the way. She snagged the phone. "Josh Lyman," she muttered groggily.

"Donna? It's Sam. Danny Concannon's van broke, and we got attacked, and we're stuck in Bethseda." There was some commotion in the background.

It took a long moment before everything processed. "Wait. Attacked? Sam, are you alright?"

"It was — sorry, what's that? CJ wants the phone. I just wanted to — hey!"

"Donna, it's CJ. We were jumped by a group of high schoolers who were grave tipping or something. They ran off, and we wouldn't be able to identify them anyway. Sam's cut his forehead and the guys stabbed Will in the neck with something pointy. He'll be okay, but he needs some medical attention." More commotion. "He doesn't need a doctor, he's just woken up. We need you and Josh to come get us."

Josh wandered into the living room, hair sticking in all directions. "Donna? What's going on?"

"It's Sam and CJ. We've got to go pick them up. Danny's van broke, and something happened. CJ... where are you, precisely?" Donna grabbed a receipt and turned it over to jot down the information."

"Near the entrance to the Peaceful Hills Cemetery. It should be on a map. Listen, be careful, alright? And Donna — you know that cross necklace your grandma sent you? Wear that. And if Josh has one, he should wear a Star of David."

Donna's eyes narrowed. "CJ, what the hell -"

"Trust me. Bring some pencils or firewood. Something wood and pointy. Chopsticks! Bring as many wooden chopsticks as you can get your hands on! Hurry up and get here, there's a lot we've got to discuss." CJ hung up abruptly as a roar of commotion began in the background.

"You look confused," Josh stated blankly, rubbing at his eyes.

Donna shook her head. "Go put pants on. We've got to pick them up. Josh... what's a cross supposed to ward off? You know, in myths?"

Josh paused in the doorway to his bedroom. "A cross? Uh... vampires? Maybe werewolves or witches or something?" He frowned and scratched at his receding hairline. "Donna, what precisely did CJ say?"

"She told me to wear the cross necklace from my grandmother. I've never worn it. And she said you should wear a Star of David. You're not even religious — do you have one?" She rubbed at her tired eyes. "Go on, get dressed. We've got to pick up a bunch of chopsticks. We'll demand an explanation later."

+

Over two hours until dawn. The group in the van was none too comfortable, especially with the middle seat left open for Will to lie down and Buffy to tend his wound. He was conscious, if feverish and slightly delirious, and the Midol CJ had in her purse didn't seem to have any effect. Crouched between the driver's seat and the passenger side, Giles was cramming as much vampire and demon lore as possible into the short time available. "Religious symbols and holy water will ward off a vampire, stake through the heart and beheading will kill them and turn them to dust. After a vampire is created, the soul of the dead being leaves and the body is inhabited by a demon, which has access to the human's memories and experiences. However, the vampire IS NOT the human, the person it was before death. For example, if Mr. Seaborn were to be Embraced — that's the term for one being turned into a vampire, it requires the sharing of blood -"

"Hey!" Sam put in. "Will's the one who got his neck ripped open. I was just fine!"

Giles glared. "Fine, then. If Mr. Bailey were to be Embraced, he would no longer be the man you know. Killing the demon is preferable to allowing the vampire with his face to live. As you're here in Washington, Ms. Cregg, you shouldn't be dealing much with the supernatural. As I understand it, the presence of the media and politicians drive away the majority of the mystical community. They prefer to operate beneath the government's radar."

CJ nodded. "Alright then. So why do a bunch of vampires want Zoey Bartlet? She's the president's daughter, yes, and her family's been in the United States for a long time, on both sides... why is she special? Why take her, and when's the shit gonna hit? She's been gone for a full day."

"How do we know these Slayer dream things are real?" Sam demanded. "I mean — I've seen those monsters. And I saw how Ceej fought them; she couldn't do that a few months ago, that's for sure. However, prophetic dreams are a little beyond even my extent of belief." He drummed idly on the steering wheel. "It's nice that we'll be able to do something. I just don't know how much of this I can trust."

"You'll only dream about the really important stuff, CJ," Buffy put in, from her position on the floor of the van. She was the only member of the Sunnydale contingent to feel comfortable enough to use the press secretary's name — Will's too, but after being bathed in someone's blood, surnames became a moot point. "Apocalypses. Always dream about the apocalypses. And one time, the First Slayer came and haunted us all in our dreams, and there was this weird cheese guy. But mainly, the dreams tell you what to focus on, when you've got to throw the unimportant stuff aside and go for the big one."

She sighed. "I should be taking notes, shouldn't I. I'm in a reporter's van, and there's not a snip of paper!"

"Don't worry about that," Giles countered. "I'll send you photocopies of several of my reference books, including the book each Slayer is presented with traditionally. In addition, I'd suggest finding yourself a researcher, whom you trust enough to bring into your confidence in this matter. I'm absolutely positive the National Library has a fine collection of texts on the mystical world, should you search long enough."

"Maybe Donna?" CJ muttered, sharing a glance with Sam.

He shook his head. "She's busy enough keeping Josh afloat. She doesn't need extracurriculars. You should tell them about this stuff, though. Swear Josh to secrecy, of course, but they should know."

"I'll figure it out later. Mr. Giles, we've got to figure out what Zoey's part in all of this is." CJ rubbed at her temples. "We have to get her back. Now."

Giles shook his head. "Tomorrow night is the full moon. The majority of rituals involving blood — and, as Lindsay said from her dream, Zoey Bartlet was chosen for her bloodline — occur on the full moon or the new moon. We know they're here. We need to know what they're doing, or we could interrupt the ritual at the wrong time and kill everyone in the process. Now, I've got a few thoughts concerning their projected outcome, but I can not be sure until I've fully examined -"

"Damnit, tell me what you think they're doing to Zoey," CJ snapped. "The whole senior staff can't be missing tomorrow, with this! Walken's gonna notice if something's up, and where President Bartlet might overlook it if we give him the right excuse, Walken can't wait to tear this Democratic White House apart! If you're looking for evil, you should check out the Speaker of the House."

"As I said, I need more information, but..." He glanced back to Ms. Rosenberg, who was busy braiding Ms. De Vega's hair and laughing with Lindsay Simon. "I think they're attempting to create a new Hellmouth."

Sam shifted around in his seat to try and face Giles head on. "A what? That sounds... foreboding."

The British man gave a snort. "Foreboding is, perhaps, an adequate word for it. Hellmouth — it's what it sounds like, the mouth of Hell. It is a portal through which demons can access our plain. Heaven and Hell are real, Mr. Seaborn. Hellmouths are our proof."

Buffy glanced over again. "Sunnydale was a Hellmouth. When the city collapsed in the earthquake... well, the earthquake wasn't caused by the San Andreas Fault. It was caused by the Hellmouth being closed violently. It took the new Adrienne Vittadini store, too," she muttered.

CJ sighed, rubbing her face. "So if they make a Hellmouth here, in Bethseda, it lets demons loose on not just Maryland, but Capital Hill, the Pentagon, and the White House. Great... now, why Zoey?"

"Opening a Hellmouth requires, among other artifacts, the blood of a witch. A powerful one, preferably, and power tends to grow after generations," Giles offered. He gestured toward the back of the van. "Our own Willow would have the power necessary for the blood magics involved though, of course, the death of the witch is an outcome of the spell."

At that, Sam started laughing under his breath. "Oh, that's rich. Zoey? Practicing witchcraft? She's Catholic!"

Buffy and Giles exchanged glances. "Not practicing," Giles corrected. "The ability to touch magic is inherited. We need to trace her mother's bloodline to know for certain but since we know her family is ancient... I believe she's descended from a European witch and, therefore, is acceptable for the spell. She cannot harness her own powers due to lack of practice, but the vampires don't care. It resides within her blood."

"Bloodline." CJ snapped her fingers. "That's it. That's not a problem at all; Zoey was recently inducted into the Daughters of the Revolution. Her mother's bloodline is neatly mapped out in a book or a file somewhere. Will knows where, that was the day I put the olives in his pockets... Will. That's it, too! Will can be research-boy!"

"He needs to stop being bleeding-boy first," Sam commented. "Are you sure he'll be alright without medical help?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I've been dealing with this stuff for eight years." Climbing part way to her feet, she bared her neck to the rearview mirror. "See these? I've been bitten three times. These are from a vampire named Angel, these from one known as the Master, and these from — get this — Dracula. I'm still here, though."

"Good to know," Sam said, peering at the marks. "Did they hurt?"

Before she could respond, something thudded against the door of the van. On the driver's side, something tugged on the door. CJ jerked out of her chair and scooted toward the middle of the van while Buffy and Giles exchanged glances.

"Vampires?" Giles asked.

"Fraid so," Buffy responded. "I think we're sitting ducks."

+

"They should be nearby," Donna said. She straightened out the map again. "Er... the sign over there says this is the right cemetery. Shall we just follow around the outside, see if we can get the van?"

Josh shrugged. "It's your plan. I'm just the chauffeur." He made a comical sight — he was chewing on the end of a cheap wooden chopstick while crookedly wearing the yarmulke he'd been given for his bar mitzvah, still in excellent shape due to years of storage.

They hadn't had time to stop at Donna's apartment after pilfering a hundred chopsticks from Yan's Standard Chinese Take-out, so Josh — though confused by CJ's message — insisted that Donna wear the pendant his father had given him instead. The shape was unfamiliar against her skin but felt, somehow, comforting — however, whether it was because of the symbol's religious nature or the fact it belonged to Josh was debatable.

Or not so debatable. She stared blankly at the map, no longer searching for the intersection as her mind wandered. Amy had asked flat out, and Donna had been cut off by a frantic call from Josh informing her of Zoey's disappearance. It was only a matter of time before Amy brought up the issue again, and Donna wasn't sure what her answer would be. Any answer and Amy would use it against her.

The car turned another corner and Josh let out a wordless cry of alarm. Donna glanced up to see a number of shadowed figures pounding on the windows and doors of Danny's van, which looked to be in terrible shape. "Oh God — Josh, what do we do?"

"She asked us to bring chopsticks, not the National Guard!" he blurted, the chopstick falling from his mouth and bouncing off the steering wheel. "Okay. Okay, we call the police. Where's my cell?"

Unfortunately, the headlights seemed to have caught the attention of the high school attackers. As Josh pulled the car over and lunged across Donna's lap toward the glove compartment — and his cell phone — she sat frozen with panic as about half of the attackers turned from the van to rush the car.

One of them seemed to have a crowbar. "Josh!" She pulled his head to her chest and buried her face against his neck, shielding his face with her arms, as the metal hit the windshield and shattered the glass into thousands of pieces. Donna could feel the pain blossoming across the backs of her hands and her knees, and didn't want to imagine what the impact of cutting glass had done to Josh's back.

Not more than a few seconds passed before the car rocked forward, and she glanced over the top of Josh's head only to catch sight of one of their attackers crawling up the front of the car toward them. If it was a high schooler, it had been in a hideous accident — it had teeth like a dog's and a face far from human. "Gotta get out, gotta get out!" she hissed to Josh, trying to ignore the gasps of pain from her boss. She shifted him out of the way, ignoring the blood — was it his? Hers? — and tugged desperately at the seatbelt release, eyes locked on the thing on the hood of the car.

Josh seemed to be reacting as well. He was shouting something incomprehensible. Donna got her seatbelt off first and grabbed for the door latch — but it was locked. And then it was too late, and the thing was reaching through the windshield. Josh must've still been restrained: it grabbed for Donna instead and pulled her right out of the car, never mind the damage the shards of glass still clinging to the windshield frame were doing to her legs. Shoving her against the hood of the car, it grabbed her hair and started pulling her shirt away from her neck — only to grab the Star of David as well.

The creature let out a tortured howl, smoke rising from the hand touching the symbol, and sent Donna flying toward the pavement. Pain — she caught herself with her arms and rolled a few times, knocking another of the creatures over as she went. She heard Josh shouting her name and, with the one she'd toppled reaching for her, knew just what she'd tell Amy.

If she ever saw the bitch again, that was.

+

It seemed Danny had been forward thinking enough to splurge for reinforced bulletproof windows. However, when tired squealed behind them and the banging of the crowbar against the van door stopped, CJ realized quickly that something big was going on. Then came the shattering glass.

"Small car, two people inside — we've got six vamps abandoning us to attack them," Kennedy de Vega called from the back. "Shall we take the ones attacking us?"

Two in the car? "Oh, shit. Sam, that's Josh and Donna!" CJ didn't wait for Sam's expletive, though it followed. She smacked Mr. Giles' arm as hard as she could — he let out a gasp of pain — and demanded, "Stake! Now!"

It was Buffy who furnished the weapon and, while the rest dived for their own supplies and someone secured Will into the van, CJ crouched at her door. One of the vampires attacking the van had his back to the car door so, unlocking it as quietly as she could, CJ slammed the door into his back as she threw it open and launched herself into the fray, staking the vampire attempting to bash his way into the back of the van as she went. From the battle cries beginning behind her, Buffy and the others were doing some damage of their own.

She caught sight of a flash of blonde hair on the pavement in front of Josh's car, obstructed by a vampire with smoke rising from his hands. The cross necklace, then? It didn't hear her coming and she staked it from behind before it could do anything else. "Donna?" The dust cleared to show Donna's panicked face and a thick chain bearing a bulky Star of David pendant. "Wait — you're not Jewish."

"Shit," Donna said shortly, the swearing out of place coming from the naïve-seeming Wisconsonite. "CJ, what in God's name — that man just turned to dust -"

"I hope you brought chopsticks," CJ couldn't help but quip. She could sense the vampire stalking her from behind before Donna's eyes widened and spun around to kick him in the chest. He took a few steps back, giving CJ enough time to land a punch and knock him off balance before she staked him. "Is Josh still in the car?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at Donna while the dust settled.

Donna nodded wordlessly and scrambled to her feet, seeming not to notice blood dripping from the cuts on her legs, while CJ turned to assess the situation. Josh had gotten his restraints off and was fighting off a single vampire that had broken the driver side window while CJ was occupied. The vampire had a firm grip on Josh's collar and the yarmulke — flopping around with every attempt at escape — didn't seem to be enough of a symbol to help.

The swiftest road seemed to be across the hood of the car, so that was the direction CJ leapt as Donna headed for the passenger door. CJ slid across the hood and landed on her feet, using her momentum to catch the arm of the vampire and send him flying further from the car. Josh's lapels gave a loud rip (followed by a cry of protest from the man himself, but CJ couldn't care less, as she was in the process of saving his life, not his wardrobe). She pressed the attack before the vampire regained its feet, kicking it in the side to get it back down. To one knee — then through the heart, and a pile of dust.

Commotion was followed by the noise of breathing. CJ climbed back to her feet and surveyed the site of the battle: no vampires remained standing, Sam had a stake in one hand, and Buffy was firmly placed in front of the door to the van, shielding the wounded. Donna and Josh seemed shaken and slightly banged up but alive. "They're okay," CJ called to Buffy, flinging open the drivers side door to access the pile of chopsticks she'd seen on her slide across the hood. "And they brought the motherload. Jesus, there must be a hundred packs of cheap wooden chopsticks. Nice job, Captain Amazing."

"We'll have to inform the police now. All this glass all around... how are we going to explain this?" Sam demanded.

"Gangs on PCP," Ms. Rosenberg replied shortly. "It worked for Sunnydale."

Sam moved to help Josh support Donna, who seemed a little unsteady from her impact on the cement. He stopped short and peered at his best friend. "Josh... are you wearing a yarmulke?"

Josh growled and threw a chopstick at him.