Origins

by The Gramarye

Post-BS5/AS2. What if killing Ben and killing Glory were not one and the same? Buffy, Faith, and many other characters from older seasons return for an alternate BS6/AS3. Crossover. WIP.

8. Reunions

      DISCLAIMER:  We both know I don't own Buffy, Faith, or any of the other characters that are making Joss Whedon and his corporate sponsors/affiliates rich.  If I did, this whole college tuition thing would be much less of an issue.

      Also, this is my first Buffy fanfic, so be nice.

      ANTI-DISCLAIMER (would that be just a "claimer?"): Some of these characters ARE my own creation, as well as many elements of the setting.  Use your head.  If it never appeared in anywhere in the Kenshin series, then it's probably mine.  Not that anyone cares but me.

      SPOILERS/BACKGROUND:  Everything from Season 1 to Season 5 and Angel Season 1 to Season 2; this picks up after S5/S2.

            *           *           *           *           *

      CHAPTER 8:

      REUNIONS

      "You know, I thought I had this whole bad streak going, but you are just mean," Faith laughed as Janna emerged from the door of the hotel into the garden.  "How'd he react?"

      "Much more … loudly … than Angel," Janna answered with a wry grin.

      "How much more?"

      "You didn't hear him?"

      "I was across the room."

      "I shouldn't have mattered if you were across the country."

      Faith grinned.  "So are you two making plans for when we get back?"

      "We'll see how he reacts to seeing me in the flesh.  I think he might still think that someone is playing a very bad joke on him, but even if not, I'm not sure how he'll react.  We didn't talk very long, actually, Willow and Buffy did most of the talking."

      "So that's why you did it.  You didn't want to surprise him."

      "Unlike Angel, Rupert is actually vulnerable to heart attacks."

      "Man, it is just weird hearing him called Rupert, by the way."

      "Grown-up talk.  You'll understand when you grow up."

      Faith stuck her tongue out at Janna.

      "Anyway, sounds like a big happy family packing for vacation in there," Faith observed.  "Should we be heading back to your apartment to pick up anything?"

      "I was thinking I might do that," Janna answered.  "But do you want to come or do you want to stay here with Angel?"

      Faith thought about that for a moment before answering, "Sure."  There was obviously a lot to catch up on here.  Besides, she wanted to find out what Wes had learned from the Council about Glory, and from Giles about Buffy.  Janna hurried to her car and drove off.  Faith returned to the lobby.

      Angel had only taken a few minutes to recover.  Actually, on second thought, that was not quite the proper term for it.  It had only taken him a few minutes to regain consciousness.  "Recover" was too strong a term for it.  He still looked half-dazed, as if he were walking in two worlds at once and couldn't tell if anything he was seeing were illusion or reality.  Nonetheless, it was obvious that he intended to get to Sunnydale as fast as possible, and that Angel Investigations would simply have to close for a while.

      Gunn and Fred looked like they were already both all packed, even though it had only been fifteen minutes.  Gunn was sitting atop a large tan suitcase that looked as though it had definitely seen better days … better decades, for that matter.  Fred apparently didn't even have that level of traveling luxury, however; she was sitting next to a large lawn garbage bag that looked as though barely half of it were full.  She was also wearing a travel-worn University of Texas backpack.  Wesley, Cordelia, and Angel were nowhere to be seen; Faith could hear at least one of them packing on the second floor, and she imagined Angel was probably down in the basement.

      "Well, you sure pack fast," Faith noted.

      "Hey, never know when you might have to go on the move in a hurry," Gunn answered.

      "Oh, really?" Fred asked in her thick Texan brogue.  Gunn's suave bravado was completely lost on her.  "Me, I really just don't have much."

      Gunn laughed.  "Yeah, but you're not supposed to just say it like that."

      "So what's your story?" Faith asked.

      "Me?  Me and my crew used to hunt vamps on the street, before I fell in with Angel.  My sister got vamped, and I had to do … well, you can guess.  So I do this partly for Angel, partly for revenge, partly for a little bit of spare change … which ain't much, let me tell you."

      "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry."

      Gunn shrugged.  "You learn to bury these things when they happen on the street.  Just the way life is."

      "I'm sorry anyway."

      "Anyway," Gunn seemed anxious to move on, "her, her story's a little more special.  We rescued her from an alien demon-dimension about three months ago—the home place of the green demon you saw when you was here last.  She'd been stuck there for years, never talked to a human the whole time until we showed up.  No way I have time for the whole story, but making it short: we fought our way free, brought her with us, and we've been trying to bring her back to the human world a little bit at a time."

      Fred just smiled, half-knowingly, half-absently.

      "We got back just in time to meet that little redheaded wicca from Sunnydale … you know who I'm talking about?"

      "Willow?" Faith asked, though there could be no one else.

      Gunn nodded.  "Yeah, that was the name.  We got back just in time for her to break the bad news to Angel, and he's been like that—or at least, like he was until yesterday—ever since.  So he hasn't been exactly available to help her, so it's just the rest of us."

      Faith nodded.  "You do anything … special?"

      "What, like burn up in the sun or some such?" Gunn asked with a  grin.  "Nope, just a guy doing what he can.  She ain't exactly a Slayer," he continued, pointing at Fred, "but she's the biggest brain I've ever met."

      Faith looked back at the innocuous woman, who was actually blushing shyly.  "Smarter than Wes?" Faith asked.  "That's saying something."

      "Not like that," Gunn answered.  "I mean in the more … schoolroom sense, I guess.  She could probably catch up with Wes in no time, though.  You should see her room.  Whole thing's covered in physics equations.  Apparently she was working on dimensional physics in grad school when something happened that left her in Pylea, but she still knows her stuff."

      Fred looked like she was about to say something, but then eventually seemed to think better of it and just sat there, smiling again.  Faith was about to prod her to say whatever it was that was on her mind when she was distracted by movement on the stairwell.  Wesley was descending the stairs, balancing a three-bag luggage set and also wearing a large frame backpack in near-mint condition.

      "Wes!" Gunn greeted him with mock magnanimity.  "Good to see that you're prepared just in case we get caught in the Himalayas on the way."

      "The Himalayas aren't on the way to Sunnydale," he replied.

      Gunn buried his head in his hands.  Wesley grinned knowingly a moment later.

      "Gunn, can I get you to help me with the second load?  I'm bringing all the books that might have anything to do with Glory."

      "Yeah, yeah, sure," Gunn said, rousing himself to his feet and following Wes back into his office.

      Faith hesitated on the verge of offering to help as well, but suddenly realized that there was someone else she'd rather be talking to and there probably wouldn't be many chances to catch him alone before they got to Sunnydale, so she left the two men to their work and headed for the basement stairs.

      Angel looked as though he were almost done packing.  Of course, his needs were a little different than the others; he was filling a thermos container with flasks of his favorite drink, and Faith could see a fire blanket folded on his cot.  His back was to her as she descended the stairs, but Faith had no illusions about him being unaware of her presence.

      "How're you feeling?" she asked.

      He did not turn around, and leaned wearily on his suitcase.  "I don't think I've had this many surprises in a day since the day I woke up in a coffin, more than two centuries ago."

      Faith actually grinned.  "Think of it as payback.  I seem to remember you pulled a back-from-the-dead act once, too."

      Angel smiled and managed a weary breath that might have been a laugh had he more energy.  "I know, but that's just it, Faith," he answered.  "Being gone like that … it changed me.  If the same has happened to her …"

      Faith understood, but wasn't going to let that stand.  "…Then she's going to need you," she finished for him.

      Angel nodded, and quickly threw the rest of the things he had laid out, save for the thermos chest, into his suitcase.  He finally turned around to look at her.

      "You packed?" he asked.

      "Janna's taking care of it.  She should be back in half an hour or so.  Not like I really had much of my own, anyway."

      Angel shrugged.  "Don't let it get to you.  Which reminds me, I was going to ask you your own question: how are you feeling?"

      "Physically?  Five by five.  Best I've ever felt, actually.  The rest … I don't know, the last two days have been a bit much to take.  I'll survive, though."

      "I believe you will.  We both will," he said wearily, as though he believed it but knew it wasn't going to be easy.

      "Ah, there's that legendary Angel optimism!" she chided.

      He grinned.  "I wonder if Giles will?" he mused.

      Faith actually laughed.  "I wouldn't worry about him, he's a tough old bastard.  Come on, let's get upstairs."

            *           *           *           *           *

      "Breathe, Giles, breathe!!" Willow was crying.

      "And watch the lamp!" Buffy added.

      Giles was stumbling around the room, ranting and babbling in several different extinct languages, or maybe simply sounds that weren't languages at all, for all Buffy could tell.  His hands were clasped to his head and he was bent over as though a herd of rhinos had decided to run circles around inside his skull.  The receiver still dangled from the phone on the wall, bouncing against the wall.  The former librarian had already bumped into nearly every piece of furniture in the room and Buffy had had to jump in front of some of the more delicate pieces in order to prevent him from breaking anything valuable.

      "Buffy, can you hold him still?!" Willow shouted, reaching for the phone.

      Oh, yeah, Slayer strength, Buffy thought to herself, but she didn't want to use it unless she had to.

      Giles tripped over the coffee table and sent an ornamental vase tumbling off the end table.  Buffy dove and played wide receiver, cradling it and preventing it from breaking, then quickly leapt back to her feet.

      All right, I guess I have to, she thought, diving on Giles before he could get up again and pinning him to the ground.  He didn't struggle.  Instead, he let out a roaring bellow right in Buffy's face.

      "Ms. Calendar?!" Buffy heard Willow's startled voice cry out, and she looked up to see that Willow had picked up the receiver and was now talking to whoever had been on the other end.  Giles seized the opportunity to bellow even louder, this time right in Buffy's ear.

      "Let me answer that bellow with a headbutt," she seethed back at him, doing exactly that.  For some reason, it gave her a faint sense of déjà vu.  She hadn't put a whole lot of force into it, but Giles was stunned momentarily, and Buffy looked over at Willow again.

      "Please don't tell me you're about to start doing the same thing, I can't hold the two of you down at once.  Plus you might blow up the whole house."

      "No, no, I'll be fine," Willow answered, in a voice that implied the exact opposite.

      "Who's that on the phone?  Ms. Calendar?" Buffy asked.

      Willow nodded.

      "Well, so, what did she say?" Buffy asked.  She turned to Giles a moment later without waiting for the answer.  "Stay," she ordered.  For some reason, that seemed to drain the adrenaline or whatever it was out of Giles' system, because he collapsed to the carpet in a faint.  Then she realized that Willow had been saying something to her.  "What was that?" she asked.

      Willow covered the mouthpiece with her hand again.  "Jenny was dead."

      Buffy shrugged, as images of the computer science teacher floated back into her awareness.  Once reminded of it, she did remember that; she hadn't been there, but she remembered attending her funeral.  Still, it was hazy, and it wasn't affecting her the way it did Willow, much less Giles.  In fact, she suddenly grinned impishly.  "So?  Been there.  Done that."

      Willow was saying, "yes, sure, come on back, we'll find room."  Then she caught up with what Buffy had said, and suddenly said, "Here, actually, why don't you dead people catch up?  I think Buffy might be taking this better than me."  She handed the phone to Buffy.  "Here, why don't you take this one."

      Buffy grinned and gave a light shrug as she took the phone from Willow, motioning the redheaded wicca to attend to Giles.

      "Hey, Ms. Calendar," Buffy said.

      "Hello, Buffy," the teacher's voice answered.  "And you can call me Jenny, we're adults now."

      "Not exactly," Buffy corrected her, "but I don't have time to explain it all at the moment.  Anyway, how've you been?"

      "Dead," Jenny answered blandly.

      "Yeah, me too," Buffy answered back.

      "So I've heard.  Good to hear your voice again—though you weren't dead, last I remember, so I guess the shock of your being back is a little lost on me."

      Buffy laughed.  "You weren't dead last I remember, either."  She proceeded to give a quick, completely incomplete explanation of what had happened to her, and how her memories were returning in bits and pieces after Willow's spell.

      "I see," Jenny said when Buffy was finished.  "Well, I guess we're both going to have a lot to catch up on."

      "Looks that way," Buffy answered.  "Where are you?  Are you coming over?"

      "Actually, we're in Los Angeles at the moment, with Angel," Jenny answered, and Buffy's heart skipped a beat.  She had long since remembered all about what had happened between them, as her memories returned as she thought about connected memories, and Angel had been on her mind almost continuously since her return, and even more so since her mother had died.  Nevertheless, at her heart she was still the girl she had been the night of the sophomore dance, and all the additional memories did was make her feel like she had been away from him for years.  Jenny was continuing, "I think from the look of things, though, we should be there later tonight.  Probably sometime after midnight, but I imagine you'll be awake."

      "Slayers don't get much sleep," Buffy agreed.  "I was actually about to leave for a patrol, but I think I'll stick around now."

      "You still have time, if you want," Jenny answered.  "You've got at least three hours."

      "Oh, I know," Buffy answered.  "But I was thinking I might need to stick around just in case Giles has another nervous breakdown and decides that my furniture would look better broken."

      Jenny laughed.  "Ah, sorry about that."

      "Hey, don't worry, it probably would have been worse if you had just shown up here, so thanks for calling."

      "Hey, no problem.  All right, I've got to get packed, since it looks like people are going to want to hit the road ASAP.  We'll catch up in person.  Stay out of trouble and be sure to get your homework done."

      Buffy laughed.  "Yes, Ms. Calendar," she said in her best mock-kindergartener voice.  They exchanged farewells, and Buffy replaced the receiver and returned to Willow and Giles.

      Willow had managed to work the fainted former librarian onto the couch, where he was making soft groaning noises as though he were suffering from severe headaches in his sleep.  He seemed to be halfway back to consciousness, or maybe halfway back to unconsciousness, depending on how one looked at it.  Willow had brewed him a green tea and was doing her best to get him to swallow small sips of it.

      "Well that conversation was heavy on the weirdness," she said, as Buffy took a seat on the coffee table across from the couch.

      "Story of my life," Buffy answered.  "How's he doing?"

      "I think he's going to make it," Willow answered with mock-levity.

      "That's good to hear.  Dying would be horribly inconvenient.  Besides, going from alive to dead seems to be so out of vogue at the moment."

      "I was noticing that, too."

      "Think you can hold down the fort here?"

      "Sure, why, you going out?"

      "I think so, I think I need to clear my head a little.  Besides, they're all on their way and I'm not going to want to go out again when they get here."

      "Clear your head?  You were taking it all really … wait … they're 'all' on their way?" Willow repeated.

      Buffy nodded, and hoped she was managing to hold her breath steady.  "Angel's coming back," she said.  Apparently she wasn't doing as good a job with the whole holding steady thing as she hoped.

      "Roger that.  All right, I'll call up Tara and Anya at the Magic Box.  They don't know Jenny, so if they show up before you get back, they shouldn't freak out as much."

      Buffy nodded.  "I'll stop by the library and pick up Xander and Dawn while I'm out."

      "Sounds good.  Do you think we should go get Spike?"

      Buffy's head ached whenever she thought about Spike.  She hadn't even known him yet when she had died, then he had been her enemy, now he was helping them even though he swore he was still going to kill them if he ever got a chip removed from his head—a chip put in by people she had never known.  It was too confusing and had absolutely no anchor in anything she remembered from life.  "I think we can hold off on that," she said after a moment.

      "All right, your call," Willow nodded after a moment.  "I'll go call the shop."

      Buffy nodded and headed over to the trunk where she kept her weapons, picking up her old friend Mr. Pointy, a few vials of holy water, and a small dagger.  Taking one last look around to see if everything was under control, she headed out into the night.

      She was halfway across town en route to the farthest graveyard—there were seven scattered across Sunnydale, for some odd reason—when she began to have a feeling that she was being watched.  Her eyes narrowed, and she stopped, looking around the street.  It was an old light-industrial zone that had been withering for years, made a brief comeback by capitalizing on the tech bubble, but had been hit hard recently when the bubble had burst, so it was actually suffering the effects of two different business downturns.  The streetlights were far apart, and at least a third of the businesses and faceless office buildings along the street were vacant.  There was a dimly lit bus station in the distance.  There was no one in sight, but the feeling would not go away.

      She continued to work her way carefully down the street, keeping an eye on every shadow until she caught a hint of movement.  There was someone or something watching her from the shadows of an alley.  She lowered herself into a fighting stance, and worked her way towards the shadow.  "Who's there?" she cried out as she got within fifteen feet or so of the entrance.

      A muffled, incoherent chortle was the only response.

      "Come out."

      The chortle only got louder and more incoherent.  Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and she thought she could see a humanoid silhouette moving around in there, but she couldn't tell; the only lights in the alley were dark.

      "I'm warning you," Buffy continued, a little more forcefully.

      "Nobody warned me," a voice responded.  It sounded human, at least, and didn't have a threatening ring to it, but she was not about to take any chances.

      "Who are you?"

      "Heeheeheeheee."

      "And we're back to the chortling," Buffy sighed, blowing out an exasperated breath.

      "Chortling, heeheehee!  She said 'chortling!'"

      Buffy lunged down, grabbed an empty beer bottle off the curb, and launched it into the alley.  Her aim was true.  There was a muffled thud as the bottle struck the figure in the stomach, and the figure folded to the earth and began coughing and making gurgling sounds in his throat.  Buffy wasted no time in darting over to him and leaping on top of him, rolling him over three times out into the light at the far end of the alley, ending by rolling up on top of him and pinning his shoulders to the concrete.

      It was a human, and not just a homeless man, by the looks of things; he was cleaner than most homeless people, and though he was grimy, it all looked fairly recent.  He was dressed in a business suit.

      "Wow, that was fun," he said, giving her a most inappropriate stare, and she realized that she was straddling his waist.  "Do it again!"

      "Oh God," she swore, clambering off him and rising to her feet.  She stayed on her guard, just in case, but it didn't really seem like he was dangerous.

      "Awwww …" he said, and giggled.

      "All right, something's obviously driven you crazy in the fairly recent past, and I have a feeling you're not going to tell me what it is, because that would just be too simple, wouldn't it?"

      "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful," the man replied.  However, for some reason, it didn't sound like another leering remark in Buffy's direction, and for a split second afterwards, the man's face contorted as though two different personalities were at war within him, and one actually wanted to answer the question.  The other one won, however, and he collapsed to gibbering on the pavement.

      Buffy had seen enough to warrant thinking that there was hope for the man yet, however.  She walked over, crouched down, slung the man's arm over her shoulder, and hoisted him to his feet.  "Come on," she said.  "Let's get you to the hospital.  Not sure what they'll do for you, but it'll be better than here."

      The man made no effort to resist her as she pulled his wallet free of his back pocket.  She gave a low whistle; whoever had done this to him had clearly not had money on their mind.  There was at least two hundred dollars and three credit cards left in the wallet, which confirmed her suspicion that he had not been in this state long; no one who had been out on the street in his condition for long would be carrying that kind of cash around.  His driver's license listed his address as being in one of the nicer parts of town, and his business card listed him as vice president for customer relations at a local financial firm.  He was definitely not homeless.

      "All right, …" she read his name off the card, "Jason, let's get out of here."

      She dragged him out of the alley just in time to catch the bus at the station down the road.  The driver gave them a strange look when they boarded, but didn't give them any more trouble; one got used to odd sights after a few years working in public in Sunnydale.  Buffy paid for both of them, and sat with him near the back of the bus.  She cast one last glance out the window of the bus as it started off and thought she caught sight of another silhouette retreating into the darkness, but she couldn't tell for certain, and it was gone a moment later. 

She stayed silent on the trip to the hospital and hoped that her addled fellow passenger would follow her lead.  He seemed to only really betray his insanity when she talked to him, so keeping mum seemed to be the best policy, and it worked.

      She left him at the hospital and resumed her patrol; she decided not to go back to the scene where she had found him that night, as the diversion had taken a lot of time and she wanted to get back in time for Angel's arrival, and she was not far from the library where Xander had taken Dawn to help her with a research project for history.  She guessed that they had gone there mostly just to hang out and deal with her return, though, as if they were really serious about studying, Willow was right there at Buffy's house and would have been a much better study partner than Xander.  She was only half expecting to find them at the library at all.

      In that much, at least, they surprised her, as the two of them were actually in the library.  They had occupied a small study table in a corner of the library used by groups, where talking was allowed.  A small stack of books lay by them.  They were both poring intently over one of them, so much so that neither one of them realized she was there until she was almost on top of them.

      "Buffy!" Xander said as soon as he laid eyes on her.  A quiet thought tugged at the back of Buffy's mind; there was something about the way he said that.

      "Hey, you remember me!" she answered with an mischievous grin, and settled down sideways in his lap, wrapping her arms flirtatiously about his neck and enjoying his reaction.  "Now then, what are we studying?" she asked, quickly turning around and reaching for whatever book it was that he and Dawn had been reading, and which Dawn was quickly trying to hide, thinking Buffy had been distracted.  It turned out that it wasn't a book, it was a magazine.

      "A bridal magazine?" Buffy's eyes widened.  It wasn't quite what she had been expecting, from the way they were acting about it.  "Is someone here getting married?"

      "Uh, Buffy, that would be me," Xander answered.  "Anya and I are …" he trailed off.

      "Oh, really?" Buffy answered, her mischievous, mock-airhead voice returning.  "I'm sorry, then, I guess it was so horribly inappropriate of me to do this … what was I thinking?" she continued as she got up off of Xander's lap.  "I'll never do it again, I promise."

      "Well …" Xander said nonchalantly.  Buffy grinned.

      "Buffy!" Dawn seemed shocked.

      "Yeah, you're not exactly acting like you … not that I'm really complaining, of course … but what's up?"

      "I'm finding that just smiling at everything is the best way to deal with everything that's different," Buffy answered.  "But, more to the point, I think we're all wanted back at base camp.  Angel's coming back, with his whole group."  Saying that suddenly sent images of Wesley and Cordelia into her mind, and more memories began to crystallize before her eyes.  That was going to take some getting used to.

      "Ah, one big happy family all over again," Xander replied.  Buffy didn't even need Willow's spell to remember that Xander and Angel had not always been the best of friends, to say the least.  Then, a moment later.  "Buffy?  You OK?"

      "Yeah," Buffy said, shaking her head quickly to clear her thoughts.  "Memories."

      "Really?  Well OK then," he said, folding up the magazine and gathering up the other books to take them back.  Buffy was pleased to see that the other books he was gathering actually did have something to do with ancient civilizations.

      "Hey, that reminds me, I can't believe I forgot to ask … Dawn, how are you doing in school?"

      Dawn looked surprised at that.  Then again, Buffy had barely talked to her since coming back, which sunny-haired Slayer guessed would have seemed completely abnormal if they had actually been sisters in everyone else's memory.  It was hard for Buffy to make herself talk to her supposed sister, however.  No matter how hard she thought about the other girl, not a single memory of the other girl resurfaced.  Memories of people she barely knew in high school would come flooding back at a moment's notice, as soon as she thought about them, but there were aggravating—and more than a little disquieting—gaps in her memory wherever anything to do with the brunette next to her would have been, and only in her most recent memories.

"All right, I guess," Dawn had answered, and now she was looking at Buffy strangely as well.  "Buffy?  Are you sure you're OK?"

"I'll be fine," Buffy answered absently.

"All right …" the girl at least sounded concerned.

"Shall we?" Xander motioned towards the door.

Buffy smiled, her humor returning.  "We shall."

They placed their books on ancient Sumeria and modern weddings back on the card to be reshelved and headed for the door.

As soon as they had left the door and were in the parking lot, however, the sensation of being watched, which Buffy had almost forgotten, returned with a vengeance.  The parking lot was absolutely deathly quiet.  It was October, but that meant little in southern California; even if no one was entering or leaving at the moment, there should have been birds, squirrels, something.

"Does … something … feel … wrong …?" Buffy asked as they drew near Xander's car.  Looking at the other two, she could tell that something was making them uneasy, too.

"Do you guys smell something?" Dawn asked.

There was definitely a strong odor in the air, and it was not pleasant.  It took Buffy a moment before she realized that there were actually two odors, one unfamiliar, but one alarmingly familiar.  She reflexively cast a glance at the asphalt, where a trickle of a light liquid trickled darkly from underneath Xander's car.  She threw up her hands to either side to stop the other two from moving any farther forward.

"Gas!" she shouted.

She threw herself backwards, expecting someone to light the fuel once they realized that she wasn't going any closer.  Nothing happened for a moment, then an inhuman voice spoke from nearby.  "Now, now, Slayer," it hissed.  "You didn't really think we'd risk damaging the prize, did you?"

Three half-human figures rose up from where they had lain hidden behind other vehicles in the parking lot.  They walked on two legs, and Buffy could tell that two were supposed to be women and the one that had spoken, a man, but they had serpentine features, red eyes, and scales on their legs and outer arms, and probably other parts of their bodies besides.  Each was at least six feet tall, probably closer to seven.  They wore clothing and jewelry that looked like modern adaptations of ancient Egyptian attire, and each carried an ornamental but very sinister-looking knife.  Buffy cursed herself for not paying more attention; she had Angel on her mind so much that she hadn't even been paying attention to her surroundings.  They had her surrounded.

"I'm not even going to speculate on what you're talking about," Buffy said, "but unless the prize is a quick trip to whatever part of Hell you came from, you came to the wrong place."  Then, under her breath, she murmured to Xander and Dawn, "I'll try to make an opening, you get out of here, don't stop until you're back at the house."

Dawn looked as though she were about to make a retort, or plea, in response to that, but appeared too frightened to put anything into words, which under the circumstances might have been just as well, as she might well have blurted out something loud enough for the encircling demons to hear.  Xander simply nodded nervously.

Buffy acted hesitant for another few moments, then barked, "Now!" and charged at one of the serpent-women.  The woman's eyes widened in momentary shock, but Buffy's body blow failed to knock her off her feet.  The woman staggered back against the minivan she had been hiding behind moments earlier.  Xander dragged Dawn by, and Buffy spared a moment for a silent curse.  That idiot girl was pulling against him, trying to stay, ignoring Xander shouting at her to get out of there.  Judging from her emotional state, the only thing she was going to accomplish if she managed to pull free of him would be to collapse and start sobbing on the pavement, but apparently that's what she had in mind.  Eventually, Xander picked her up bodily and threw her over his shoulder and started hustling away as best he could manage.

The demons closed about Buffy then, hissing arrogantly, and Buffy immediately started thinking about what she could do to buy her friends some more time to escape.  Fortunately, they didn't seem like they were rushing their attack; they seemed to want to take their time, and Buffy was happy to play their game for a bit.  She unsheathed the dagger she had brought with her, and crouched at the ready, daring one of them to try their snake reflexes on her.

                  *           *           *

"Ooh," Giles moaned, reaching up to rub his forehead with a bruised hand.

"Hey, I think he's waking up," Tara's voice sounded from somewhere nearby.

"Hey, Giles."  That was Willow.

"Welcome back," Anya chimed in.

His vision was returning slowly.  Jenny, the thought resounded in his mind.  It was real.  He knew it, somehow, it was real, but at what price?  What had happened?  And Glory … whatever the woman was doing in L.A., it wouldn't be long before she was back up here, if she wasn't already.

"Dawn?" Giles asked into the air, not caring who answered.

"Dawn?  She went to the library with Xander, Buffy's going to pick her up on her way back from patrol," Willow answered.

Giles' thoughts began to crystallize again, as they generally did when he found the opportunity to be critical of something.  "Isn't that a little careless?" he asked.  "Shouldn't we have brought them back here by now?"

"Are they in trouble?"

Had they not been told?  He sat up, ignoring the room spinning around him, forcing his eyes and thoughts to focus.  "Did Wesley not tell you?" he asked.

"Tell us what?  I never talked to Wes, just to … well, you know."

"Never mind that right now," Giles said dismissively, and noted that that really got their attention; whatever was driving Jenny from his mind was worth hearing.

"Giles, what's wrong?" Tara was looking nervous.

Giles took a deep breath.  "Buffy isn't dead.  Jenny isn't dead.  And neither is Glory.  She's back.  She's been seen in L.A. and I'm guessing she's on the way here.  She could be here already, it was days ago in L.A."

Willow's eyes had been growing wider and wider from the moment the word 'Glory' left Giles' lips, and were saucers by the time he finished.  It was Tara that spoke, however.

"Should we go get them?"

"I'll go," Willow answered confidently.  A faint breath of air wafted around the room, rustling the curtains gently.

"I've got the car," Tara pointed out.

"I don't need one," Willow replied, and she didn't wait for an argument.  A ripple passed across her body as though she were nothing more than a watery illusion, and as it passed, she vanished.

There was a brief silence, then Giles, Tara, and Anya let out a collective breath.  The break in the conversation had let the spinning room reassert itself in Giles awareness, and he sank back down onto the couch cushions.  Seeing Willow using magic like that—so powerful, so effortless—made him nervous, but in this case, he wasn't going to say anything.  Not that she was here anymore to listen, of course.  Good luck, kid, he said into the silence of his whirling mind.

                  *           *           *

The creatures continued to circle around Buffy, drawing steadily closer, but slowly.  They seemed to have a lot of patience, which made Buffy definitely wary.  It almost seemed like a dance to them.  There was no haste in their eyes; it didn't even look like their hearts were in the fight at all, even fighting a Slayer.  They had begun to inch closer together, leaving a gap through which Buffy might have been able to spring; she restrained just in case they were waiting for her to turn her flank to them.  She had a feeling they could strike a lot more quickly than they were moving at the moment, if they wanted.  A seed of doubt suddenly sprouted in the back of her mind, and the serpent-man, who seemed to be the leader, confirmed it a few moments later.

"Have fun, ladies," he hissed triumphantly.  The semicircle of them had just danced around to where the three of them were in between Buffy and the route that Dawn and Xander had taken to flee.  They were out of sight now, but had only been so for a minute or so.  The leader turned and darted off in that direction, moving much more quickly now, and occasionally sliding short, quick strides on his belly like a serpent, driving himself forward alternating between walking and slithering with startling agility.

"No!" Buffy screamed, moving to try cutting between the two serpent-women to get to him, but they were ready for her, and their knives flashed.  Buffy parried one on her own dagger and twisted out of the way of the other, forcing the woman back with a kick to her thigh, but her charge was broken and she was forced backwards.  A howl of frustration burst from her lips.  There was no way Xander could escape with that hysterical sack on his shoulders.  She had to get by the two serpent demons now, or they were both going to end up dead or captured.

"You forget, the serpent's strength is cunning," the shorter of the women gloated.

"That's nice.  I like my kind of strength," Buffy answered, gathering herself and springing.  She didn't try to go directly past them this time.  She sprang onto the hood of the nearest car, from there to the roof of a Suburban two cars away, and from there towards an open space in the parking lot past the two women.

Quick as she was, the taller of the women matched her, springing onto the roof of the minivan she had been standing by and from there into the sky to meet Buffy in midair.  Buffy spun, and both of their blades flashed in a whirl of glittering steel.  Buffy got the better of the exchange, scoring a hit with a follow-up jab just below the knuckles of the serpent-woman's knife hand, but the woman was leaping straight into her and delivered a body blow straight into Buffy's side as Buffy came out of her swing.  She was knocked off course and landed with a crash of shattering glass in the windshield of an old pickup, well behind where she would have had to land to be past the demons.  Pain shot across her torso, but she kept her grip on her weapon and forced to the pain to the back of her mind.

"We like ours as well," the taller woman added as she came back into view.  She had landed better than Buffy, but Buffy noticed the woman was using her knife in the other hand now.  Buffy's hit had to have been solid.

Buffy rolled off the hood of the pickup and darted forward, but did not put as much energy into as she acted.  The serpent-woman bit, or tried to, venomous fangs suddenly appearing in her mouth as she coiled herself backwards and lunged forward with the speed of a cobra, but Buffy had already snaked out of the way.  The woman dove headlong into the side-view mirror of the truck, and snarled in pain and anger.

Buffy tried to seize the opportunity to break free and run after the leader, but the other woman, smaller than the first but still at least a head taller than Buffy herself, had wasted no time in getting across the row of cars and now sprung around the corner to join the battle.  Their knives slashed, ricocheted off each other, met with a ring and held, slid off one another, slashed again.  Buffy began to get desperate.  These demon-women were tough, and it was starting to become obvious that she wasn't going to be able to go after the other while the other two were still in fighting condition.

She swung forward, locked her blade on her opponent's, and aimed a kick at the other woman's knees.  The woman's reflexes were like lightning; she lifted her own foot and nearly wrapped Buffy's leg with her own.  The other woman didn't appear to have much martial arts training, but her speed and agility made up for it.

The other woman attempted to snag Buffy's arm while she was unbalanced, and clearly intended to sink her fangs into the Slayer's exposed forearm, but she didn't have her own balance set.  Buffy spun aside, and brought her stake into play with her other hand, nearly managing to gouge it into the serpent-woman's baleful left eye.  As it was, she hit the scales on the woman's left cheek, and while it didn't penetrate the skin, the woman did at least recoil as though stabbed; they were tough, but they weren't invulnerable.  Her stake flew out of her hands at the impact, however, as she hadn't been able to get a perfect grip on it, trying to do too many things at once.

The taller one had mostly recovered from the blow to her jaw, and was coming back at Buffy from her flank.  Buffy decided to see how her last weapon worked on these creatures.  She dove low, her knife held out at an angle that would have slashed the woman's thighs, effectively taking her out of the fight.  The woman blocked it with her own knife, but Buffy had been expecting that and had not put a whole lot of commitment into the strike.  Instead, she flicked out with her other hand, and the other woman could no more change her movement than a serpent alter its direction in mid-strike.  She received a vial of holy water below her chin.

There was a sickly flash of emerald light, and the woman collapsed, screaming, on the pavement.  It was different than the reaction of vampires, as there was no smoke or burning stench, nor any visible mark on her skin, but the way she was writhing on the ground looked as though she had been hit with a clod of napalm.

"One down!" she called to rub into the other's face as she wheeled back to meet the attack of the shorter woman, vaulting up and off the side of the Suburban and landing behind the serpent-woman.  The demon lunged through the space where Buffy had been standing moments earlier.  Buffy dropped immediately to the ground as she landed, reading the woman's reaction, and as the serpent-woman twisted and slashed through where Buffy's chest had been, Buffy swung around on the ground and swept the woman's knees out from under her.

She leapt to her feet, and suddenly became aware of another presence in the parking lot.  Feet were running in her direction.  Suddenly, Willow rounded the corner from the direction of the building at a dead run.

"Buffy!" she shouted.

"Willow, get Dawn and Xander!" Buffy cried, flinging out her hand in the direction Dawn and Xander had gone.  "There's another one after …" her words cut off in a cry of pain, as the knife of the one that she had originally thought down for the count bit into her leg.  The woman couldn't even stand, but had launched the knife at her from where she lay.  Buffy cursed.  The wound wasn't life-threatening, but it was deep enough.

"Buffy!!" Willow cried again, and sparks of energy began to coruscate around her head as she prepared a spell.

"Go!" Buffy roared back.  "Help them!"

Willow nodded, and set off across the parking lot faster than any human could possibly have run.  Buffy made a mental note to ask Willow later how she did that.

The shorter woman had regained her feet, and Buffy now turned back to face her, wounded but now bearing both her own dagger and the knife of the taller woman.  The woman definitely seemed to be getting angrier, and her breathing was coming in long, low hisses.  The fact that Buffy had gotten a friend to send after the other two also seemed to cast some doubt into her mind.

"Ready to end this?" Buffy asked.

"There's no way your friend will get there in time.  Or be able to do anything if she does.  She'll just be dessert for Lord Apepi."

"I take it you don't know her," Buffy answered.

"It doesn't matter."

"OK, done talking," Buffy growled as she whirled back to the attack.  Buffy had confidence in Willow but already felt as though she had been stalled far too long.  In addition, she didn't want to hear the woman saying what she already suspected: Willow would get there too late.

                  *           *           *

"Put me down, put me down!" Dawn screamed.  God, I feel so useless.  We can't just abandon her!

"Not until you learn to run away from battles," Xander answered, though his breathing was labored and it was obvious that he was going to have to put her down soon whether he wanted to or not.

"Buffy's in trouble!"

Xander set her down, but held onto her arm.  "And what, exactly, did you think were you going to do to correct that?"

"Shut up!" Dawn screamed back.  "I can't believe you're just going to leave her!"

Suddenly, she recoiled with a frightened squeak, and put a hand to her cheek.  He had slapped her!  "Don't you ever say that to me again," he snapped, and Dawn cringed at the emotion in his voice.  "If I could do something—anything—to help her in a fight, I'd do it.  But right now, the only thing I can do for her is to keep you away from those things."

Dawn had been looking backwards as she had been trying to break free and run back, and as she raised her eyes again, she suddenly froze in terror.  "Nice job," she said.

Xander followed her eyes, and instantly saw what she had seen.  The leader of the serpent demons had come after them.

Suddenly, a sinking feeling cut through Dawn's stomach.  She remembered the last time a serpentine demon had come hunting her.  They could see her for what she really was, what she so often forgot, and tried to forget.  "They're still after me," she cried softly.  Her knees gave way, and Xander's frantic attempt to pull her to her feet and steady her might as well have been an attempt to stand a wet towel on its end.

"Come on, Dawn, run!" Xander shouted.

What's the use? Dawn sobbed to herself as she collapsed again.  The snake-creature was almost upon them.  There was no way they were going to outrun it.  She tilted her head back and let out a high-pitching scream.  "Buffy!"

But Buffy was still off fighting the two servants of the serpent-man, and no one was listening.  The demon had reached them, and made a lunge for Dawn.

Xander ploughed into her so hard that he sent her sprawling, trying to throw her out of the path of the demon.  For some reason, that jarred her a little, and she began to labor to get back to her feet, though her knees were still weak and her breathing was terrified and unsteady.

Suddenly, something slashed across her leg, and she collapsed back to the asphalt.  The demon had turned and thrown its knife spinning through the air until it slashed across her left hamstring.  She clutched her leg uselessly, as though covering the cut would somehow allow her to stand.  The cut felt … strange … somehow, less painful than she would have expected, but it was still not allowing her to get up.

"S-s-stick around," the serpent-man hissed gleefully at her as it turned to deal with Xander.

"No!" she screamed.

"Oh, yes," the serpent hissed mockingly.

No, Dawn wanted to scream again, but she was too frightened and drained to make the effort.  Xander!

A jolt suddenly shook her body; she could feel the cut under her hand suddenly start to pulse somehow, as though someone had turned on a low electric current beneath it.  She was so surprised that for a moment she forgot her fear, and pulled her hand away.

There was blood on her hands.  But there was more than that.  A hazy aura was emanating from her palm, as though she were holding a handful of pure green light.  The cut on her leg looked the same way; there was normal blood on her jeans, which normally would have made her nauseated, but at the moment she was completely focused on the green light that seemed to be covering the surface of the cut, and wafting off it like a light mist.

What's going on? Dawn wondered frantically.  Is that … me?  Is that what I really am?  Am I coming apart?  What's happening?  The serpent had apparently seen it, too, or at least saw something, because he suddenly turned back to her, a wary and uncertain expression wiping the self-confidence off his face in an instant.

She raised herself backwards onto her knees, and held her arms up to the heavens.  "Help me!" she screamed one last despairing time into the unhearing night sky.

The burst of power that erupted from the aura on her left hand was so unexpected and so potent that it actually rolled her across the pavement.  She felt bruised all over, in addition to cut, now, but she realized the roll might actually have saved her, as the serpent-man had lunged for her as the light had begun sweeping outward from her hands.

The ball of green energy that had burst from her hands was now a free-floating nimbus, more than twice as tall as Dawn herself and almost twenty feet across.  It was rotating, and pulses of brighter energy were flaring within it, like a blazing thunderstorm beneath a thin layer of cloud.  The detonation as it had blazed into existence had knocked the demon off his feet and stunned him momentarily, but Dawn could no longer move, wounded and battered as she was.

      The cloud began to shrink and grow brighter, and Dawn suddenly saw the outlines of what looked like a man beginning to appear within it, like a silhouette of light instead of shadow.  Her sight was failing her and her thoughts were still refusing her commands to organize, but it looked as though it were a bit large to be a man, but that might have been simply the way things looked from the ground.  He was also holding something large, though Dawn couldn't see what it was.

      Suddenly, almost everything that was left of the cloud collapsed inwards, leaving only a faint green aura around the man that stepped out of the vanishing energy.  Dawn's eyes widened.  It was a man, but unlike any she had ever seen, which she guessed was a good thing, because she wasn't sure how she felt about many men like this running around.  He was easily six and a half feet tall, probably closer to seven.  He wore thick armor on his torso and legs.  He had black hair, and a well-groomed but full beard, and burnished skin that looked vaguely Middle Eastern or central Asian.  His arms, bare except for thick, ornate gold bracelets, were thicker than the legs of any of the football players at Sunnydale High, and his legs looked as though they might have supported a building as well as any pillar.  As though his appearance were not unrealistic enough already, there were two small monkeys perched on his left shoulder.  And in his hands he carried the most enormous axe that Dawn had ever seen, or even heard tell of.  It was easily four times the size of an executioner's axe, though he held it as though it were no more than a walking stick.

      He looked a little startled at his new surroundings, though nowhere near as started as Dawn was to see him.  Then his eyes fell on the serpent-man in front of him.

      "Muzh-gidim," he spat.  Even though Dawn had absolutely no idea what he was saying or even what language he was speaking, there was power in his voice.

      "G …" the answer, or question, or whatever it might have been that the serpent-man was trying to say was abruptly cut off, along with his head.  The man spun in a full circle and swung his axe as though it were nearly weightless in his hands.  He moved with devastating speed for someone so large, encumbered by such armor and such an enormous weapon.

      The monkeys cheered.

      The aura around him was beginning to grow faint, and as it did, so did the man himself, growing transparent and walking away at the same time, giving Dawn no notice whatsoever and Xander merely a passing glance.

      Once the man mystery man had vanished completely, all the adrenaline that had been keeping Dawn on her hands and knees and keeping the pain at bay vanished.  She collapsed with a loud groan onto the pavement.  She realized that he had just saved her life, so she allowed herself to revise her earlier thought about her not wanting more of them around.  Nonetheless, she was still battered and bleeding, and her vision was almost as dark with her eyes open as shut.

      "Xander … ?" she asked hesitantly.

      "Y … yeah, Dawn, I'm here."  His voice was weak, but just hearing it was a relief.

      "Don't tell … don't tell …"

      "I think it may be a little late for that."

      Dawn forced her eyes open again and forced her head to lift off the ground.  The effort made her head swim, and she could feel herself losing consciousness.  However, before the darkness at the edge of her vision swept across her eyes entirely, she had enough time to see Willow … where had she come from?! … looking down at her, eyes wide in an expression of complete astonishment.

            *           *           *           *           *

      The din of car doors and trunks opening and shutting was beginning to subside somewhat as the group of figures clustered outside Angel Investigations finished packing.  Cordelia's last suitcase … she had packed four … was the last to go in the trunk of Gunn's car.

"Are we all set?" Cordelia asked.

"As soon as Lorne gets here," Wesley replied.  "He's going to look after the place while we're away."

"And heck no I'm not OK!" Gunn barked.  "We've got to fit five people in my car while the dead woman and the serial killer get to ride in that!"

Faith, who was leaning against the side of Janna's Porsche, gave him her cutest grin and a mock-sympathetic, "Aww," before turning to glance as another pair of headlights came into view around the corner.  "There's Lorne," she said.  She turned back to try to get a view through the garden back into the hotel.  "What are those two doing?" she asked, partly to herself.

      Jenny and Angel were the only two still inside the hotel, apparently arguing about something.  Faith actually took that as a good sign; it meant that Angel had managed to recover from getting spooked by the Gypsy woman's reappearance.  Then again, who knew better that death was not absolute than him?  Nonetheless, she was eager to get going, and she hurried back into the hotel, hoping to convince them to drop whatever it was they were talking about until later.

      "… going to have to come back eventually," Janna was saying as she walked in the door.  Angel was leaning on the reception desk, not meeting Janna's gaze.  "You might want this place to still be here when that happens."

      "We don't need money, Jenny, I'm serious."

      "You're lying to me, Angel, and this crazy martyr act of yours is not helping here.  I'm trying to help."  Faith tensed.  She had never seen Janna … Jenny … really annoyed before.

      Angel bristled.  "I'll manage.  I managed for two centuries with a lot less stuff than this."

      "And far less responsibilities."

      "Faith!" Angel said, suddenly all smiles, but conspicuously changing the subject.  "Are we all set to go?"

      "As soon as you two lovebirds get over your little spat, I think so.  Lorne just pulled up."

      "Excellent!  Splendid!  Shall we?"  Without really waiting for an answer, he turned and strode out the front door.

      Janna gave Faith an exasperated look.  Faith met her gaze for a moment, then simply smiled and shook her head.  "Man, and here I thought you were having a serious argument," she said.

      The Gypsy woman let out a frustrated breath.  "This place has made almost nothing since Buffy died.  That man will never admit that he needs help.  They'll never get another place this good if they lose this lease."

      Faith laughed.  "Man, check you out.  First you bail me out, now you want to bail out Angel."

      The anger left Janna's face, replaced with a look that was more simply tired.  Then she fixed Faith with a pointed stare.  "I owe him at least that much for helping to bring you back," she said.

      "Oh, don't," Faith started.  She wasn't in the mood for sentimentality right now.

      "Fine," Janna answered.  "But I'd rather not have the authorities come evict Lorne while we're gone.  It might raise some embarrassing questions."

      "Guess he just doesn't like charity," Faith admitted, remembering her conversation with Anne.  On a whim, she quipped, "you could always try hiring him."

      Janna thought on that for a moment, then suddenly smiled.  "You know, I hadn't even thought of that.  Maybe he'll do a little freelance work in Sunnydale."

      Faith grinned.  "And if he won't, Wes or Cordy will.  They have a little more business sense than him."

      The Gypsy woman laughed, and agreed, "I thought about going straight to Cordy and bypassing Angel entirely, but that just felt wrong.  Probably would have made it a lot easier, though."

      "If your goal is to give away money?  I'd say."

      Janna laughed again.  "You wouldn't think it would be this hard, would it?"

      "Sure wouldn't be if I was the one getting the offer."

      Janna gave her a lighthearted reproaching look at the hidden suggestion in that, and Faith grinned sheepishly.

      "Anyway," Faith continued, "I think they're waiting for us.  You ready to hit the road?"

      Janna nodded firmly.  "Absolutely," she said, though there was a barely noticeable tremor in her voice that suggested that she might not be quite as ready to meet Giles again as she was trying to seem.

      They met with the rest of the group out by the cars; Angel was just finishing giving some quick instructions to Lorne on how to run the place.  If they had said anything about money, neither one gave any sign.  Janna let the matter rest, and she and Faith bid the others farewell, climbed into the Boxter, and headed for the freeway.  They had agreed that there was little chance of them being able to stick together all the way to Sunnydale, and there were people in each car that knew the way to Buffy's house, so they all agreed to meet there when they reached Sunnydale.

      Janna set the cruise at a leisurely pace once they were on the freeway, so the others had a chance to catch up with them if they weren't long behind.  It was a perfect night for driving; the sky was cloudless, the roads were dry but not overly dusty, and the moon, one day from full, showered the landscape with silver light.

      "Man, Janna, you realize it's a crime to be driving this slow in a piece like this?"

      "I didn't, actually," Janna answered pointedly.

      "Well, it should be," Faith retorted resolutely.

      They made small talk, or what counted for small talk between a faerie enchantress back from the dead and an ex-rogue Slayer escaped from twenty-five to life, about the things they intended to do when they got back to Sunnydale, and where they were going to find a place to sleep if there wasn't room to crash at the Summers' residence, until about fifteen minutes after they had left the Los Angeles city limits.  Gradually, however, as the conversation got more and more mundane, Faith became aware that the voice in the back of her head was trying to tell her something, and she cast a thoughtful glance backward out the rear window.

      She immediately let out a furious curse.  "Dammit, what was I thinking?!" she spat.  "That car from earlier is behind us."

      Janna threw a quick glance in the rearview, and said something in a language that Faith didn't recognize, but it sounded decidedly unpleasant.

      "All right, Faith," she asked suddenly, an unfamiliarly cunning grin splitting her face.  "Feel like a rest stop?"

      Faith's eyes narrowed.  She didn't need to ask where this was going.  "Absolutely," she said flatly.

      The next rest area was on a few miles farther, and the mysterious black car behind them made no threatening moves toward them.  In fact, it did not even follow them into the rest stop; it slowed down behind them as they pulled in and seemed to linger for a moment on the freeway behind them, but then it sped up again and continued onward.

      Janna made no pretense at parking the car.  She proceeded straight to the on-ramp to get back on the freeway, and idled the car in a small space right by the ramp to give the driver of the other car a little time to get onward.

      "She knew we had spotted her," Faith stated.  It was not a guess.

      "Looks that way," Janna agreed.

      "Is there another road to get to Sunnydale?" Faith asked.

      "Not that I know of," Janna answered.  "Not in this dimension, anyway."

      "I was generally thinking in those terms, yeah," Faith drawled.

      "Well, let's go see if she's found some way to wait for us."  Janna started the car back onto the freeway.

      They drove largely in silence for the rest of the way, keeping all the attention they could spare devoted to looking for any sign of the mystery car.  They saw nothing for a vast majority of the way.  As they were drawing closer to Sunnydale, however, Janna's eyes began to perk up and change to the same brilliant violet that Faith had seen in the store.

      "You seeing anything?" Faith asked.

      "Yeah, but … it's not her, it's something else.  Almost familiar, I thought I recognized it, like the essence of someone or something I once knew.  Whatever it was was pretty strong, or I'd never have felt it at this distance; it's about a mile to our right, heading towards Sunnydale."

      "Glory?" Faith asked, dreading the answer.

      "No, no, this feels like something more … natural … part natural, part not.  I can't describe it, really.  A lot like a werewolf, but the other, normal animals out there don't feel frightened enough."

      Faith cast a glance at the sky.  She had forgotten the significance of the fact that the moon was one day from the full, and had also forgotten Janna's powers to commune with nature.  She suddenly realized that living in the city had to be an alien experience for her; the faerie woman was probably a lot more comfortable out here, surrounded by her element.

      Janna followed her gaze, and agreed with the implicit remark.  "If it were really a werewolf, there wouldn't be a normal animal anywhere near it."

      Faith nodded, but nonetheless kept an extremely close watch on the right side of the road for the next several miles.  Nothing happened, however, and they reached the Sunnydale exit without any further incident.

      They were less than a hundred yards from the freeway, however, when a familiar vehicle pulled out of the parking lot of a gas station that occupied the corner where the exit ramp turned onto Sunnydale's main street.  The driver was being careful, waiting until Janna's Porsche had passed and moved on nearly a block, but Faith recognized it immediately.  Her senses were a lot sharper when she was concentrating on using them.

      "Dammit!  It's her again,!" Faith swore.

      Janna cast a glance in the rearview.  "She must have suspected we were coming here."

      "Just great," Faith seethed.

      "You want me to try to lose her?" Janna asked.

      Faith thought about that for a second, then answered slowly.  "No … actually …" she drew in a breath, "I want to have a little talk with her."

      Janna looked at her.  "You sure you're up for it?  She might be a little more than just a good detective."

      For some reason, that set off alarm bells throughout Faith's head, and made her even more frustrated that she couldn't lock her mind on where she had seen that car or its driver before.  "I'm sure," she grated, trying to hide the headache.  "Turn right up here.  I'm getting out."

      They were approaching a corner on which sat a high, square building that pressed almost right up against the sidewalk.  The moment they were around it, and the trailing Chrysler disappeared from view for a split second, Faith flung open the door and sprang to the curb, swinging the door shut behind her on the way out with an acrobatic twist.  She dove immediately for the closest cover she could find, a loading dock set in the side of the building.  She quickly sprang up onto a raised platform used for the unloading of large trucks, and crouched down, out of sight from road level, waiting.

      Only a moment later, the black car behind them came into view.  Faith wrinkled her nose; the moonlight was so bright that it was actually causing glare off the windshield, preventing her from getting a good look at whoever was inside.  She was planning on getting closer anyway, however.

      Faith waited until the last possible moment, eased up into a sprinter's position, then sprang.  Her timing was true.  She sailed out into the air and landed right on the hood of the car, her face only inches from the windshield.  She was staring the other woman in the face; their previous suspicions were confirmed, it was indeed a woman.  Faith's eyes widened in surprise, before a modest smile passed across her face.  She understood now why Janna's implication that she might be more than just a good detective had sounded alarms in her mind.

      "Hey, Kate, how's it going?" she cheeked.

            *           *           *           *           *

      Buffy looked around at her house—her former house, she guess she thought she should say, though she still thought of it as her own, listening to the low drone of Willow and Tara chanting elsewhere upstairs, and the soft tap-tap of Xander playing handyman as he installed energy crystals in strategic points in the frame of the house.  She couldn't believe that she had lived here for five years, apparently, without ever looking into having some kind of magical protections erected around the house.  Of course, that would have been hard to do during her lifetime, as she had always tried to conceal from her mother what she really was, but she knew now that her mother had ultimately discovered her true nature, so that excuse should have been gone.  Still, better late than never, she supposed.  This was not how she had originally planned on spending tonight, but it was not the first time business had gotten in the line of pleasure.

      Of course, it was not like she was doing much to help.  Her leg was wounded, and though the bleeding had stopped, she really didn't know a whole lot about magic, and so it had fallen to her to look after the mysterious girl that everyone else knew as her sister.  Dawn was in far worse shape than Buffy; the girl propped up on her bed looked as though she had been caught in a landslide.  Buffy had been sitting here for almost an hour, and had no idea what to say to her, and the other seemed to feel likewise.

      "How're you feeling?" she asked.

      "Beat up," Dawn answered candidly.

      Buffy actually laughed.  "Don't worry, you get over that in time.  Take it from someone who knows."

      "Not all of us heal like Slayers."

      "Not all of us get beat up as much as I do."

      "You really haven't been here for a while."

      Buffy frowned.  Her memories were still returning, but she was beginning to feel a lot more like the old her, at least.  Still, it might be better not to go talking about it, or Giles would probably want progress reports every morning and evening until he was sure she remembered everything that had happened between her deaths.  "I guess not," she admitted.

      "Being a friend of yours isn't easy, never mind a relative."

      Buffy made a face.  "Oh, thanks."

      "Hey, no problem."

      Buffy let out an exasperated sigh.  She certainly acted like a sister.  Buffy didn't remember only childhood having such appeal.  Still, it was the first time she had seen a hint of a smile across the girl's face, so she hoped it meant she was starting to relax enough to ask questions.

      "So you want to tell me what happened?  Willow's not much with the talking."

      "I …" Dawn trailed off.  "I don't know what happened," she admitted quietly.  "I haven't a damn clue."

      Buffy gave an understanding half-smile.  "I know that feeling," she empathized.  "But something had to have guillotined lizard-boy, and I'm getting the feeling it wasn't you or Will."

      Dawn shrugged morosely.  "Someone showed up out of thin air, cut the thing's head off with an axe, then vanished."

      Buffy's grin brightened.  "See?  Why didn't you just say so?"  It might have sounded unbelievable in a normal world, which meant it was probably absolutely correct in Sunnydale.  Then her expression sobered.  "Dawn, we're going to have to start trusting each other sometime."

      Dawn's shoulders sagged.  "I think my blood might have summoned him."

      Buffy's eyes widened.  So that was why she didn't want to talk about it.  Nothing abnormal for Sunnydale, but definitely not what one wanted to believe about themselves.  She got up and sat down by Dawn on the bed, put her arms around the younger girl's shoulders, and looked into her eyes.

      "Maybe it did, maybe it didn't," she said.  Dawn's expression looked as though it might burst into tears at any time.  "But listen to me.  Look at me.  In this house are some of the smartest, kindest, all-around best people in this world—or any other, for that matter.  If this is something you can learn to control, Willow and Giles will help.  If this is something we can get rid of, and you want to, we will find a way to do it.  If something or someone appears that wants to hurt you, we'll deal with it together.  But … listen to me, I know I'm lecturing … you cannot do this alone.  You can't just withdraw and hide yourself away, you can't run from it.  If it's your destiny, you can't run from it anyway, and if it's not, then the best way to defeat it is here, in this house, with smart and powerful friends.  And me."

      "I'm … I'm just so scared … you can't understand …"

      "Scared?  Scared that something might happen to you, that people might hate you or use you for what you are, or that bad things might happen to your family because of you?  Dawn, I've lived with that every day since I became a Slayer.  But Dawn, if you run, if you push us away, those things that you could have stopped are going to happen.  The only way bad things in this world get stopped are if good people stop them.  It doesn't matter if it's a doctor fighting a disease, or a fireman trying to save someone from a burning building, or a Slayer trying to stop the world from getting sucked into Hell, it never matters.  The disease, the fire, the world going to Hell, whatever, will win automatically if you don't fight back, so even if you fail, you've got to fight.  Never give up.  Never, never, never, never give in."

      Dawn looked up with a wan smile that almost reached her eyes.  It was amazing how much less serious a simple smile could make her injuries appear.  "That was Churchill."

      Buffy smiled.  "See?  I wasn't a complete idiot in history."

      "Really?"

      "Want a good sisterly smack in the face?"

      "Nah," Dawn shrugged.  She held up her empty teacup.  "But I could use a refill on the chai."

      Buffy let out an amused breath and rolled off the bed.  "Oh fine, you little pampered princess."

      "Thanks," Dawn said with a light grin that looked much more normal for her age as she wriggled back down comfortably within the covers.

            *           *           *           *           *

      Faith and Kate looked at each other through the windshield for a few tense moments, Kate's eyes growing steadily wider.  Then things got really interesting.

      There was a rough crackle in the air, and something lifted Faith up and threw her off the car.  Kate had hit the brakes, but there had definitely been something more than inertia at work there.  Faith landed about ten feet in front of the car, dazed for a moment.  Just a moment.  She leapt to her feet a moment later.

      Her eyes suddenly widened.  "Holy shit!" she gasped and reflexively swept Kalia from its sheath.  She caught the lightning bolt that was heading for her face on the flat of the blade, and fortunately, the mystical Gypsy sword was up to the task; the stream of energy bounced off the sword and set an innocent dumpster ablaze.

      Kate had gotten out of the car, and was taking cover behind the driver's-side door.  There was a weapon in her hands that looked like a small M-16, only it had fired that stream of electricity at her.

      "Kate, what the hell?" Faith barked.

      Kate looked as though she were about to fire again, but restrained herself at the last second.  She nonetheless let out a firm command, "Don't come any closer."

      "All right, all right!" Faith answered, actually backing away a few steps.

      "Get down on the ground."

      "What is this, an arrest?  You're not a cop anymore, you know."

      "No," she repeated dangerously, "I'm not.  But you're still an escaped murderer on the run."

      "Oh, come on, Kate, you know I'm not like that anymore."

      "You mind telling me how I know that?"

      Faith was momentarily at a loss.  After a moment, she said, "because you know what I'm up against.  And Angel believes in me, just like he was the one who still believed in you after no one else did."

      "Don't even mention him."

      "What?  I thought you were friends!"

      "Are you crazy?  Wait, that's right, you are.  Well, just for the record, getting involved with him ruined my life."

      Faith had been keeping her cool before that, but she now felt some heat building behind her eyes.  "Getting involved with him opened your eyes," she said.

      "Like I said.  It ruined my life.  Now drop the sword and get down."

      "What do you want?"

      "I already told you.  I want you to drop the weapon and get on the ground."

      "You've got no authority here."

      "I'm holding the gun here."

      "So what do you want to do?  Take me hostage?  Take me back for the reward money?  Or just shoot me in the back while I'm on the ground?"

      "For the moment, I just want to get you off the streets."

      "She can't do that, detective," a familiar voice said from behind Kate.

      Kate swung around, and Faith moved over to look.  Janna was emerging from the pitch-black shadow beside the warehouse, fifty feet from where Kate stood, one hand raised, palm outward, in front of her.  Kate wasted no words, thinking she was under attack, and leveled a burst of energy at the unarmed woman.

      The bolt struck the Gypsy in the chest, and she collapsed lifelessly to the pavement.  Kate immediately swung back to the horrorstruck Faith.

      "What the …?" Faith was at a momentary loss for words.  "What the hell, you psychotic bitch, she was unarmed!"

      "It's only a stunner, she'll wake up in a few minutes."

      "Somehow I'm having trouble believing that."

      "Well, gee, it looks like there just isn't much trust either way here, doesn't it?"

      The back of Faith's eyes had been burning for some time now.  Suddenly, she felt the burning spread out and down her body, a surge of power flowing through her.  She relaxed her mind, remembering what Janna had told her about using her emotions, not fighting them.  When the burning spread down to her hands, she felt something pass into the sword.  Her eyes widened, and she realized that what she was feeling might be more than just anger.

      Faith looked back up at the other woman.  The world suddenly seemed a lot more in focus.  "I'm coming over there," she grated.  Kate tensed and raised the blaster to her eyes.  Faith ignored it.  "I'm going to take that out of your hands.  Then we're going to go check on my friend.  If you're lying to me, you end up like her.  If not, we can go our own ways.  Understand?"

      "I said don't come any closer."

      "And I'm past caring what you say," Faith retorted, and she lunged.

      A burst of energy surged towards her.  Faith spun as she leaned forward into her charge, and the burst passed behind her shoulder.  Another one came, and she swatted it aside with the flat of her blade, this time right back at Kate's face.  The woman ducked convulsively, but before she could recover, Faith was upon her, wrestling her to the ground.  The blaster went flying from her hands.  Kate rolled, and she was strong—much stronger than a mortal woman, actually—Faith noted, but Faith was still stronger.  She seized a pair of strange-looking manacles that had been hanging at Kate's waist and clapped them around the woman's wrists, pinning them behind her back.  She made a quick slicing motion with Kalia and sliced the former detective's belt off; there was a whole array of tools and whatzits of some kind on her belt, and she was not in the mood to take time to examine them one by one.

      Kate was strangely silent as Faith pulled her to her feet, whether stunned because she had lost or planning something else, Faith had no idea.

      Janna was alive.  Faith could tell that as soon as the prone form of the woman came into view behind the car which she had fallen behind.  The woman was already awake, and struggling to raise herself to her hands and knees.

      "All right," Faith admitted.  "I didn't believe you when you said it was a stunner."

      Kate stayed silent.

      Once awake, Janna seemed to regain control of herself fairly quickly.  She was on her feet a minute later, though she still didn't look up for a footrace.  She cast a curious eye up and down the woman Faith had captured.

      She came over and walked around the woman, and paused when she saw the manacles holding Kate's wrists together.  She came back around to the front and gave a knowing look into the other woman's eyes.

      "Dragon's scale cuffs," she observed.  "They suppress magical powers and release at the will of the owner.  You could have gotten out of them at any time."

      Naked surprise painted Kate's face at that, and as if in answer, the cuffs clicked open and fell to the pavement.  Kate and Faith backed away from each other uncertainly, and Faith's hand drifted to the hilt of her sword.  She suspected Kate had a hidden weapon on her somewhere; she had not given the woman a full search because of her haste to check on Janna.

      Janna bent and picked up the manacles.  Then, before anyone could predict what she was going to do, she had fastened them on her own wrists.

      "There.  Now will you listen to us?" she asked the blonde woman.

      Kate was clearly taken aback.  Nonetheless, her defiance returned quickly.  "I'd rather see them on her," she said.

      Janna looked at Faith, and Faith wrestled within herself.  Her first thought for a response was, Go to Hell.  She thought about simply offering to leave, but she didn't want to leave Janna alone and helpless with this woman.  She looked at the former detective.  The Slayer had always had a voice in the back of her mind that was a good judge of character, even if she had ignored it for most of the time since her first Watcher had been murdered, and Kate did not seem like the kind of person who would have so easily sold out to any force of darkness, even after being expelled from the LAPD.

      Eventually, forcing herself against all her mistrusting instincts, she breathed, "Fine.  As long as she doesn't go back for any more weapons."

      Janna looked back at Kate.  "Is that OK?" she asked.

      Kate seemed to struggle within herself for a moment just as Faith had, then, as if in answer, the cuffs released themselves from Janna's arms and clattered to the ground.  Kate moved as if to get them, but Janna reached down and picked them up first.

      Faith held her arms out in front of her, and the Gypsy woman slowly fastened the dragon scale cuffs around her wrists.  Faith let out a long, heavy gasp as the second cuff clicked closed.  The fire that had been burning in her veins suddenly subsided, retreating into a dull ember just below her breast.  Janna cast a reassuring glance into her eyes that Kate couldn't see, and Faith slowly forced her breathing to steady.

      Janna turned back to the detective.  "All right," she said.  "Now please listen to our story."

      Janna proceeded to explain everything that had happened since she had met Faith in Los Angeles, though she left out the part about herself becoming one of the Fae, up to where the two of them and Angel's crew had left AI for Sunnydale.  Faith described the attack on her in the California Institution for Women, then her escape, and her return to Los Angeles.

      "It's a believable story," Kate said slowly when they were all finished.  "But I can't believe it yet."

      Faith was going to say something in protest, but Janna signaled for her two stay quiet.  "What did we not explain?"

      Kate stood up from the hood of the car where she'd been sitting.  "I guess I'm not going to believe this until I get a chance to speak with the others at Miss Summers' home.  If their story backs yours, I'll believe you.  Is that fair?"

      "Certainly," Janna answered.

      "In the meantime, I'm going to have to ask both of you to come with me … just so I can tell you can't communicate with them while I get over there."

      Janna laughed.  "And also to give you directions?"

      Kate shrugged.

      Janna sighed.  "Miss Lockley, I've been nothing but honest with you up until now, and I'll be nothing but honest with you now.  I can communicate over incredible distances if I need to.  I could tell Willow everything she would need to know before we got to the end of the block.  However, I promise you that I will not.  I will wear another pair of cuffs, if you have one and want me to."

      Kate looked at her appraisingly.  "That's all right," she said.  "I have ways of detecting magic being used in the car."

      Janna looked impressed at this, and answered simply, "very well."

      Faith spoke up.  "Janna, what about your car?"

      Janna replied, "Don't worry about it, I parked it in a 24-hour garage."

      Faith nodded.  However, her mind raced, and as much as she racked her brain for all her memories of this part of Sunnydale, and she had been here for more than a year, she couldn't remember any 24-hour garage in the area that she could have gotten to and back from that quickly.

      "All right then, ladies," Kate replied.  "Let's go talk to Buffy."

      "Um … can we maybe take these things off me?" Faith asked, holding up her shackled wrists.

      "When we get there," Kate answered.

      Janna moved over and put her hands around Faith's, her fingertips just touching the manacles.  "Don't worry, it'll be OK," she said quietly, and her voice was comforting.  Faith sighed.  This was too much like being back in police custody for her comfort, but she felt like she could deal with it with Janna with her.  Janna unhooked the sheath of Kalia from Faith's belt and handed it to Kate, who took it wordlessly.

      They seated themselves in the back of Kate's car, and Faith gave out a low whistle.  The interior looked more like the cockpit of a fighter plane—or a spaceship—than a normal car.  The back doors had originally had latches on the inside, but they had been removed.  A glass plate separated the front and back seats, but images and diagrams glowed within the glass and Faith could see that it was actually a clear monitor as well as a window.

      "Wow, Kate, I didn't know you'd gone all James Bond," Faith grinned as she settled in.

      Kate gave a nonchalant shrug.  "A few lucky connections paid off."

      Janna looked impressed as well, but her voice was as normal as if they were talking over tea.  "So anyway, Faith, you might want to tell us where we're going.  I've never been to Buffy's, either."

      Faith hadn't even thought of that, but answered quickly a moment later, "1630 Revello Drive.  Northwest side."

      Kate nodded, typing something into a keyboard that had been mounted just below the air conditioner.  A map of Sunnydale flashed on a small monitor just to the right of the steering wheel a moment later.  "All right, got it," she answered.

      They were a little more than halfway there when something started flashing on the dashboard in front of Kate.  Janna and Faith both saw it; Janna was the first to guess what it was.

      "Something's following us," she surmised.

      "Just something supernatural in the area," Kate answered.  "I doubt they're following us."

      Janna's eyes had turned violet.  "Maybe," she answered, in a slightly lower voice.  "But I have a feeling we're going to have to deal with them anyway."

      Faith tensed, and for the first time, being in the cuffs really started to make her nervous.  She might still have been able to handle Kate while in them, but she didn't want to be caught this way by anything more dangerous.  "What are you seeing?" Faith asked.

      "Not seeing.  Just … sensing danger.  Can't you?"

      Faith went silent for a moment, then nodded.

      "I don't know what you're talking about," Kate replied dismissively.  "It's not getting any clo … wait a minute …" then she and Janna both said simultaneously "… there's more of them."

      "Great," Faith muttered at the same time as Janna added, "They're coming closer.  They've blocked the road ahead."

      Kate nodded, as though what she were seeing confirmed that.  "Well, there's no use taking another way, all we'd be doing is going into a rabbit warren," she said.  That much was true; they were just getting into a residential area, and there wouldn't be many through roads.

      "Please," Janna asked.  "Unlock Faith."

      Kate's lips compressed dismissively.  "I said …" her voice trailed off as several figures came into view some distance in front of them "… when we get there."

      "Oh come …" Faith began, but Janna raised a finger to her lips for silence.

      "Recognize them?" Janna asked.

      "Demons," Kate asked.

      "Mohra demons," Janna clarified.  "And it looks like a whole squad of them.  There will be more nearby."

      "Then maybe we'd better just bust through here right now," Kate answered, and she gunned the motor.

      "No, wait!" Janna cried.

      There were a half dozen Mohra demons in the road ahead of them, wearing armor that looked almost like feudal Japanese make, but with many more monstrous elements.  Some carried swords, others one-handed axes, and all had round shields.

      At the last second, several concealed hatches on the hood and sides of Janna's car opened, and Faith saw a few more objects that looked a lot like the blaster she had been holding emerged.  The bolts these things fired weren't like the electrical bursts that Kate's gun had fired, however; they were smaller and brighter, almost like tiny comets that left rippling wakes in the air behind them.  They also had a much more devastating effect than the hand blaster, shredding through shield and armor alike.  All six of the demons fell to the earth and Kate simply plowed them out of the way as she went by; the bodies seemed to bounce away from the car, and Faith remembered the invisible force that had thrown her from the hood.

      Faith's eyes widened, and she let herself be impressed.  "Wow, Kate, what was that?"

      "Rail guns," Kate answered tersely.  "The … people I got this stuff from were just finishing working on them when their project was terminated."

      Janna interrupted here.  "Nice, but those things regenerate."

      "Eh?" Kate stole a glance in the rearview.

      "And there's going to be a cap …"

      Faith suddenly felt a shift in the air above them, and cried a desperate warning, but it was too late.  The front glass shattered, and a shaft of some kind burst through it, driving into Kate's right leg like a spear, accompanied by the heavy thud of metal boots landing on the roof.  Kate screamed, and the car spun and screeched to a halt.  Faith, unable to balance herself, was thrown bodily against the inside of the door.  The force that had been surrounding the car threw the thing away a moment later, but the damage had been done, and the force actually backfired, as the blade was wrenched free of Kate's leg by the force of the impact, and she screamed again.

      "Let her out!" Janna cried.

      Faith could feel Kate's eyes turning around to look at her, though she wasn't watching; she was looking out the side window to see what had landed on them and then been thrown off.  It was another demon, and it looked a lot like the other Mohra demons, but it was larger, and had reddish hide instead of the greenish tint of the lesser ones.  Its armor was more ornate, and instead of a shield, it carried a two-handed poleaxe with a spearlike tip that gleamed black in the dim light with Kate's blood on it.

      Faith suddenly felt the cuffs unlatch, and the rear doors both sprang open.  She instantly leapt out of the car and pulled the passenger door open, retrieving Kalia from the front seat.  It was only then that she realized Janna had actually come out the passenger side door with her rather than using her own.

      "It's a Mohra Lord," Janna hissed in her ear.  "Breaking the gem on its forehead will kill it, but will summon more.  Just buy us some time if you can."

      Faith pushed Janna backward, as the Mohra Lord was rushing them.  "Watch," she barked.

            *           *           *           *           *

      "I think the guests have started to arrive," Xander called excitedly from the front window.

      A long, sporty two-door crammed with people had pulled into the driveway.

      Buffy descended the staircase in two long bounds.  Anya emerged from the kitchen.  Dawn was still upstairs, and Willow, Tara, and Giles were still working their protective spells on the house.  Fortunately, whatever they had set up so far had not bothered the new arrivals on their way in.  Buffy cast a sheepish look at Anya and Xander.  "I guess we're the welcoming party."

      Anya shrugged.  Xander was still at the window, watching the five people get out of the car.  "There's Angel," he said emotionlessly.  "Faith and Ms. Calendar aren't with them."

      "Well, come on anyway," Buffy said, opening the door and jogging out onto the lawn to meet them.  One of them, anyway.

      Angel's reaction when she suddenly dashed into his arms was priceless, and earned him a lighthearted but bitterly cruel jibe, "Wow, lover, I'm going to have to die more often."  Angel looked mortified, and she repented of it immediately.  "Oh, come on," she said.  "Where's your world-famous sense of humor?"

      "It's … well, uh, I guess …"

      "Hmm, garbled somewhere," she observed clinically.  "Well, that's OK, we'll have plenty of time to cure you of that later."

      "Well, you certainly look well," Wesley said from the far side of the car.

      Buffy finally spared a glance for the others.  There were Wesley and Cordelia, and two people she didn't recognize.  "You as well, Wes," she said.  "Better than I remember, actually."

      "You don't look half bad for a dead person, yourself," Cordelia offered in her classic Cordelia style.

      "Ooh, thanks," Buffy answered, sidling up to Angel and turning him around so they faced the others as though posing for a picture.  "Hear that, Angel?  Your position as the cutest dead person on Planet Earth is in danger."

      "Hey!" Angel reacted in spite of himself.

      "Excellent!  He's getting better already," Buffy answered, turning to face the others again.

      "Not at introductions, he ain't," the black man who had been driving the car interrupted.  He walked forward and offered his hand for Buffy to shake.  "Charles Gunn.  Just call me Gunn."

      "Gunn," Buffy repeated, turning the name over in her mouth.  "Buffy Summers.  Just call me Buffy."

      "Oh yes, and that's Fred," Angel said, taking his cue, as well as an excuse to talk about anything else.  Fred simply waved at Buffy shyly.

      "Right.  My turn now, I guess," Buffy answered.  "Guys, this is Xander, one of my best friends, and Anya, ex-vengeance demon extraordinaire."

      "'Ex' vengeance demon?" Cordelia asked.

      "Ex." Buffy repeated.  "Giles, Willow, Tara, and Dawn are inside, working some protective mojo on the house; a lot has come up in the last few days, or we'd all be out here to meet you.  Sorry about the hospitality."

      "Hey, I ain't complaining," Gunn asked, looking around.  "Nice crib you've got here."

      "For the moment," Buffy answered somberly, "but we can talk about that some other time.  Come on, let's go meet the others."

      "The others," Angel started suddenly as though his memory had suddenly been jogged.  "Are Faith and Jenny here?"

      "By the looks of the whole not seeing that sweet ride of hers in the drive, I say no," Gunn offered.

      "No, not yet," Buffy admitted.  "Why?"

      "They were ahead of us, is all." Angel answered, a worried look on his face.

      Buffy's lips compressed.  It was hardly as though a safe arrival were anything but guaranteed in this town, especially after what she had been through tonight.  "I'll ask Willow to scry for them as soon as she gets to a stopping point," she answered.

      Angel nodded, thankful for the offer, and it seemed to be genuinely good enough for him, since the lines of worry faded from his face, and he looked at Buffy as though suddenly seeing her for the first time.

      Before she could react, she was suddenly being crushed in his arms, and she could feel her feet leaving the ground as he drew her deeper to his chest.  However hard the years had been on his mind, they had certainly done nothing to his muscles.  Not caring who was looking, Buffy braced her thighs on the sides of his to support her lower body.  She grinned and closed her eyes as Angel whispered into her ears.  "You have no idea how much I've missed you."  Buffy simply breathed deeply and murmured something into his ear about telling her later.  She had not come back to life.  This was not Earth.  This was Heaven.

            *           *           *           *           *

      COMING SOON: Chapter 9, "The Welcome Party."  Faith, Kate, and Janna's first meeting with the rest of the gang is short-lived; the Mohra demons haven't given up yet; the Order of Turaca begins to assemble in Sunnydale; more hints of a new power in town emerge; Willow and others continue to build up the Summers' house's defenses; Buffy and Angel get a little bit of time to talk by themselves.

      I realize this chapter was definitely on the long side even for me.  Are they too long and cumbersome to read?

      As always, I always appreciate feedback, about anything—plot, style, character, length, anything.