A/N: Big thankee to Ivory, who's uploading this for lil' moi. Seeing as
Bill Gates is evil an' all.
Yup. You're all gonna hate me, if I've done my job well enough. Please note, I adore flames. So much fun. So go ahead.
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"Ugggh." With a disgruntled sigh, Faith dropped down onto the couch, and leant back, her eyes closing. Jess stared at her a moment, then, stalked off upstairs.
Moments later, Angel, Cordelia, and a hyped up, excited Gabby and Faye burst in, chattering loudly.
"Everything go alright?" Angel asked Faith. The dark Slayer opened one eye, and looked at him.
"Depends on your meaning of 'alright'," she answered. Angel watched as the two Potentials headed up the staircase and then turned to Cordelia.
"I think we'd better find Connor."
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Faye strode into the bedroom with Gabby, still talking, then fell silent as she saw Jess seated on her bed. She bit her lip at the fury painted onto Jess's face, and at the bruises lividly marking the pale, angry features.
"Did you have fun?" Jess asked, in a biting tone. Faye dropped her eyes.
"I'm going downstairs," Gabby whispered, looking from one girl to another. She knew from past experience, not to interfere. The blazing anger, and sarcasm turning on her, then being ignored. She felt her stomach drop as she remembered what it had been like, when Travers had been only too happy for Jess to show her displeasure by fighting. She shuddered unconsciously.
"Fine. Get out then," Jess snapped. Faye stood there, motionless, preparing silently for the onslaught.
Gabby leant against the door, trying to summon up courage to either walk downstairs, and admit Jess controlled her, or go in..and...She rested her head against the solid wood, and waited, miserably.
"So," the older girl began, standing up, "Did you have fun?"
"Yes," Faye muttered. Jess curled a lip.
"You actually kill anything?" Faye's eyes met her own, dull brown, the sparkle that had been in them only a moment before, dead.
"No," she answered, lifting her chin.
"Thought so. You're no good as a Potential, Faye. You'd be better off dead. Stupid, fat little cry-baby, always running to Starr whenever you lost. I don't know why he picked *you*," Jess said angrily, glaring at Faye. The girl stood stoically, not making any reply.
"You've always been useless, haven't you, Faye? Whenever Travers wanted us to spar, no one ever wanted to partner you. Ana, Mel, Georgina, they all died, and none of them ever wanted to be your friend," Jess continued, her voice flavoured with spite, trying to wound the younger girl.
"And Angel takes pity on you, like you'd ever make the Slayer, whatever she says. That's the only reason he took you, you know. It would have been me and Gabby, but you'd probably get yourself killed if you even looked at a vampire. Oh, except for the evil one you've made *friends* with, that is," Jess finished witheringly.
Faye still looked at her.
"You always were a disgrace. Even watching your parents die when vampires attacked, you didn't do anything," Jess hissed, sitting down. With a choking sound, Faye turned, and ran out of the room, and down the stairs. Gabby, trembling with anger, and shock, stepped back in.
"I can't believe you," she began.
"Save it," Jess interrupted, her blue eyes icy.
"No, I won't," Gabby answered, her confidence rising. "You've become a real bitch, Jessamy . Faye didn't do anything wrong!"
"Fine, side with her," Jess snapped, turning her back on the younger girl. Gabby opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.
"I'm going downstairs," she said shortly. "Try to grow up."
When Jess turned, incredulous, Gabby had gone.
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Angel tapped on Connor's door. He slipped an arm around Cordelia's shoulders, and she leant against him, smiling slightly.
Connor pulled the door open, his face appearing at the crack.
"Huh?"
"So. How'd it go?" Cordy asked. Connor shrugged, leaving the door open, as he sat back down on the bed.
"Okay, I guess." He folded his arms. "So, patrolling?"
Cordy tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, looking at Angel.
"It was good," his father replied. Connor nodded.
"So, nothing happened?" Cordelia asked again, probing slightly. Connor scowled.
"It was okay. "
"Good," Angel nodded.
"Good," Cordelia echoed.
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Faye raced through the now empty lobby, crashing into a person standing in the doorway as she moved past them, her sketchpad still tucked under her arm. Tears blurred her vision, as she turned out of the hotel's street, and sat down, her back against the cool stone of a building, to cry properly.
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Lindsey dodged the small streak of crying teenager, and looked around, bewildered. Angel hadn't had *another* miracle child, had he?
Spread eagled across the couch, in an unconsciously provocative position, Faith lay fast asleep, her chocolate brown hair tumbled around her face, fists balled against her sides. A small prickling of desire sprang over Lindsey, though he quickly repressed it, his jaw tightening. Lauren's mother.. He pushed it away. She'd been more a solace for Darla, than anything else.
He sat down on the opposite couch, and propped his chin on his hand, staring into space, the photographs that remained tucked inside his jacket.
Shock was washing over him, replacing the anger. His little girl. He swallowed, remembering how he'd hurried her that morning. Lauren always.. Had always, loved everything about the morning, taking it slow, laid back. Like he used to do. His heart ached as he recalled the sight, the sounds of her. The silky feel of soft brown baby hair, the huge grin, the bright sparkle in the blue eyes. Chubby little arms closing around his neck in a loving hug. The lisping, 'night night Daddy' as she went to sleep. His head shot up, the blue eyes blazing with grief, his jaw set.
A young girl stepped down the stairs towards him. Honey blonde hair hung over her shoulders, and her eyes were lowered, until she saw him, and then large, moss-green eyes settled on his face.
"Can I help you?" she asked politely, her voice low. He blinked. Perhaps the colouring, and the memories of .. She looked so much like Darla, he shook his head a second, then focused on her again. Childish features, in adolescence, he guessed around thirteen.
"Does.Angel still work here?" he asked, his voice rough. She blinked.
"Yeah. I can go get him for you, if you want?" she asked. He nodded. She looked towards the sleeping Slayer, and a tiny smile appeared.
"I'll go," she mumbled, turning towards the stairs. His mind clicked into gear. Another teenager. A girl. Even Angel couldn't work like that..could he? Cordelia.Fred?
Moments later, the vampire descended, a surprised expression on his face, that turned rapidly dark.
"Lindsey," he growled.
"I need help." It cost him so much to come to this guy, and beg. Not the begging, hell, he'd barely have survived as a kid without begging from neighbours, begging for himself, and his siblings, but the vampire had, to all extents and purposes, kicked him out of the city. That, and stolen Darla. And the 'cops suck' sign. Three pull-overs. But, apart from Wolfram and Hart, the vampire was the only one who could really help at all.
"Right." Angel folded his arms, and looked the other man up and down. "Why?"
From the couch, Faith stirred. Stretching, her eyes blearily focused on the man standing beside the vampire.
"Gonna introduce me, Angel?" she drawled, Lindsey gave her a cursory glance, then turned back to the vampire.
"Are you going to, or not?" he asked. Angel looked at him again.
"I'll help," he said finally.
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Sitting back against the building, Faye sketched absently, tearstains still on her cheeks, shining in the lamplight. Looking down at the pad, she shivered. The lines appearing were clearly showing the picture from her dreams. Why had she even thought of it? It was disgusting, when she'd woken up, she'd been ill, it was so horrible. The little girl had so clearly been gorgeous when she was alive, why she had seen her like this .. Her fingers trembled, and she dropped the pencil, a shiver running down her spine. Faye looked up instinctively.
A hand slipped across her mouth, silencing her screams, as the blade slid cleanly into her throat. The sketchpad lay forgotten.
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Starr opened the main door, and slipped inside, her smile still floating on her lips. The entire experience had been... eye opening. The power that was available to her, if she became.. Part of her had relished the fight, the conquering of her fear, and the enemy, delighting in an innate ability, while sorely feeling the lack of power. She glanced around, but the foyer was empty. Running up the stairs lightly, she sat down hard on her bed, laughing softly.
Wesley paused in the hall, hearing the little giggle, an indulgent smile crossing his face. He knocked on the door. Starr sprang up, and pulled it open.
"First patrol fun?" the ex-Watcher asked dryly. She grinned, and nodded, her black curls bobbing around her neck. Her cheeks were still flushed red with excitement.
"I never realised there was so much.. Travers, he seemed to make it so... He didn't describe the feeling of it, oh, it was.." She hugged herself tightly, whirling around happily. "Magical. I actually slew a vampire tonight, Wesley. Me! I always thought only the true Slayer, and yet," Starr smiled up at him, her grey eyes filled with wonder. "I was part of it."
"It's an amazing experience," he agreed, sitting down on the bedspread. She dropped down beside him.
"What was it like, when you. You killed a vampire?" she asked softly, her eyes fixed on his own. He smiled, remembering.
"The Watcher's Academy allows its students to experience such things as part of training. I was sixteen years old, handed a weapon, and led into a caged arena, with floodlights upon it, and an unarmed vampire, who hadn't been fed for weeks, was led out, restrained, so I could slay it, without getting hurt. And I was bloody terrified!" he laughed. She joined in.
"So, not quite the same," he finished, smiling at her. She nodded.
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The scream that broke the silence was shrill, and terrifying. Starr and Wesley raced down the corridor, following Cordelia, as they ran into Jane's room. The child sat up in bed, her eyes wide, her pupils huge, and black, mouth open in a scream.
"She must have had another nightmare," Cordelia said, sitting down on the bed. She reached out to hold the child, and pulled her close, holding her tightly. Jane stiffened, but then, her thin shoulders shuddered, and she began to cry.
"Shhh, honey. Shhh," Cordy crooned, rocking her back and forth, as Angel stepped into the room.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Cordelia whispered, hugging Jane to her. "A nightmare."
iGirl, blood, so much, blood spilt there, fire, flames, so much blood, throat cut, eyes wide, screaming, alive, dead, fire, burning, burning/i
"Sweetie, it was a nightmare. It isn't real, it isn't real,' Cordy promised. Jane leant against her, tears still spilling down her cheeks.
"I've got to get back. Lindsey, he's downstairs. In the office," Angel said awkwardly. Wesley glanced at him.
"I'll join you," he said shortly.
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Faith leant against the wall, her arms folded as she studied the man seated on her left.
"Why Angel?" she asked. Lindsey lifted his head to look at her.
"Excuse me?"
"Why Angel?" she repeated, shrugging. "I mean, you were with a bad ass law firm, why not go to them?"
"You ever known kids?" he asked her. Her mind flashed to a little girl, saw her face once more, and felt the bittersweet pain in her heart, but shrugged again, nonchalantly. "Might do."
"Well, take a look," he said, dropping a sheaf of photographs onto Angel's desk. She picked one up, more from curiosity than anything, but her stomach churned.
A little girl, beautiful and healthy, only some dick had decided to shove a bunch of holes in her neck, and drain her blood dry. She dropped it abruptly, as if her fingers had been burned, and moved back, shaking.
Some pervert could have done that to any kid, and their parents, sisters, brothers would never have known. Her stomach rolled, and she felt physically ill.
"Who was she?" she managed. Lindsey watched her.
"My daughter. Lauren," he answered finally. "I want to find the person who did that to her."
"And we'll help," Angel's voice sounded, and both turned to look at the vampire. "Lindsey."
"Thank you," the man muttered, scooping up the photographs. "I'm going back to my hotel. You can reach me here." He dropped a card onto the desk, and walked out.
"That was.. Short," Wesley commented.
"Don't blame him," Faith spoke up, not looking at him.
"So what do we do now?" Wesley asked Angel. The vampire picked up the photograph again.
"The symbol. We need to find out what it means. Is this the first murder like this? It's ritual, isn't it?"
"Yes," Wesley said slowly. "The piercing of the throat by a tri-bladed knife, in order to allow the blood from the jugular vein fully. Used in Druidic sacrifices, I think. Dates from about 600 BC."
"Exactly. Who is doing this, and where," Angel ordered grimly.
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"I brought tea," Starr said softly, setting down the china cup. Wesley gave her a brief smile.
"Thank you, Starr. What time is it?" he yawned. She looked at her watch.
"Ten to three. Want some help?"
He smiled again, gratefully. "If you wouldn't mind.?" She took a book from his hand, and flipped it open, sitting down on the other side of the desk.
"Where are the others?" he asked, a moment later. She looked up.
"Gunn and Angel are looking on the street, trying to find out if anyone knows of ritual murders, Cordelia's asleep, with Jane, Fred's doing a computer search and I'm here." She shrugged one shoulder, and gave him a faint smile.
"Jess, Faye and Gabby?"
"Haven't seen Gabby and Faye, I think they're with the others. Jess is upstairs though, sulking about something. She won't tell me what."
Wesley yawned again. "Sounds like any other thirteen year old to me."
"Ooh! Found something!" She pointed, and hurriedly, he got up, and stood behind her to take a look.
"It's the same symbol, but my Greek isn't that good. It says something about, 'restoring what comes before.' That, or, 'my duck has six wheels.'"
Wesley shook his head. "Your Greek is terrible. It is used in rituals of the bringing back of what has gone before." She raised an eyebrow.
"Restoring isn't *that* bad a translation."
"Restoration happens to a painting," he answered, with a grin. She shrugged.
"Meh. Potato, Potatoe."
He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "So, the symbol is used in a ritual to bring back something." He pored over the text. "Hmm. It doesn't refer to a particular object, I was hoping the Tool of Persephone would be linked somehow, but it doesn't seem-"
"Tool of Persephone?" Gunn was propped against the doorway, an eyebrow raised. "That's not exactly a mystical name. Tool?"
Wesley glared. "Yes. Tool. Sometimes, the creators did come straight to the point."
Starr hopped off the desk where she'd perched. "So, street people. How'd that work out?"
Gunn glanced at her. "Nothin'. There's some big shit out there. People are hidin'. We pulled out zip." He grinned. "Beat the crap outta a coupla demons though."
"Fun," Starr said brightly. She turned back to Wesley. "Seeing as it's early in the morning, I'm going to try and sleep."
"Goodnight, then," Wesley replied. She pushed her hair behind her ears.
"See ya Gunn."
"G'night," the black man replied.
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Starr opened the door. The bedroom was in darkness, pitch black.
"Faye?" she whispered. No answer. Yawning, she slipped into her pyjamas, and beneath the covers, sleepily. The younger girl was fast asleep.
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The sketchpad lay abandoned on the sidewalk, the half completed sketch still recognisable. Lauren's pretty, blood spattered face looked up from the page.
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A/N: I have to repeat, it's getting easier and easier just to shelve SR, and the sequels, as I can't upload, and have to persuade, and beg people to do so for me. Lighten the load for me, and R/R
Yup. You're all gonna hate me, if I've done my job well enough. Please note, I adore flames. So much fun. So go ahead.
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"Ugggh." With a disgruntled sigh, Faith dropped down onto the couch, and leant back, her eyes closing. Jess stared at her a moment, then, stalked off upstairs.
Moments later, Angel, Cordelia, and a hyped up, excited Gabby and Faye burst in, chattering loudly.
"Everything go alright?" Angel asked Faith. The dark Slayer opened one eye, and looked at him.
"Depends on your meaning of 'alright'," she answered. Angel watched as the two Potentials headed up the staircase and then turned to Cordelia.
"I think we'd better find Connor."
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Faye strode into the bedroom with Gabby, still talking, then fell silent as she saw Jess seated on her bed. She bit her lip at the fury painted onto Jess's face, and at the bruises lividly marking the pale, angry features.
"Did you have fun?" Jess asked, in a biting tone. Faye dropped her eyes.
"I'm going downstairs," Gabby whispered, looking from one girl to another. She knew from past experience, not to interfere. The blazing anger, and sarcasm turning on her, then being ignored. She felt her stomach drop as she remembered what it had been like, when Travers had been only too happy for Jess to show her displeasure by fighting. She shuddered unconsciously.
"Fine. Get out then," Jess snapped. Faye stood there, motionless, preparing silently for the onslaught.
Gabby leant against the door, trying to summon up courage to either walk downstairs, and admit Jess controlled her, or go in..and...She rested her head against the solid wood, and waited, miserably.
"So," the older girl began, standing up, "Did you have fun?"
"Yes," Faye muttered. Jess curled a lip.
"You actually kill anything?" Faye's eyes met her own, dull brown, the sparkle that had been in them only a moment before, dead.
"No," she answered, lifting her chin.
"Thought so. You're no good as a Potential, Faye. You'd be better off dead. Stupid, fat little cry-baby, always running to Starr whenever you lost. I don't know why he picked *you*," Jess said angrily, glaring at Faye. The girl stood stoically, not making any reply.
"You've always been useless, haven't you, Faye? Whenever Travers wanted us to spar, no one ever wanted to partner you. Ana, Mel, Georgina, they all died, and none of them ever wanted to be your friend," Jess continued, her voice flavoured with spite, trying to wound the younger girl.
"And Angel takes pity on you, like you'd ever make the Slayer, whatever she says. That's the only reason he took you, you know. It would have been me and Gabby, but you'd probably get yourself killed if you even looked at a vampire. Oh, except for the evil one you've made *friends* with, that is," Jess finished witheringly.
Faye still looked at her.
"You always were a disgrace. Even watching your parents die when vampires attacked, you didn't do anything," Jess hissed, sitting down. With a choking sound, Faye turned, and ran out of the room, and down the stairs. Gabby, trembling with anger, and shock, stepped back in.
"I can't believe you," she began.
"Save it," Jess interrupted, her blue eyes icy.
"No, I won't," Gabby answered, her confidence rising. "You've become a real bitch, Jessamy . Faye didn't do anything wrong!"
"Fine, side with her," Jess snapped, turning her back on the younger girl. Gabby opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.
"I'm going downstairs," she said shortly. "Try to grow up."
When Jess turned, incredulous, Gabby had gone.
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Angel tapped on Connor's door. He slipped an arm around Cordelia's shoulders, and she leant against him, smiling slightly.
Connor pulled the door open, his face appearing at the crack.
"Huh?"
"So. How'd it go?" Cordy asked. Connor shrugged, leaving the door open, as he sat back down on the bed.
"Okay, I guess." He folded his arms. "So, patrolling?"
Cordy tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, looking at Angel.
"It was good," his father replied. Connor nodded.
"So, nothing happened?" Cordelia asked again, probing slightly. Connor scowled.
"It was okay. "
"Good," Angel nodded.
"Good," Cordelia echoed.
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Faye raced through the now empty lobby, crashing into a person standing in the doorway as she moved past them, her sketchpad still tucked under her arm. Tears blurred her vision, as she turned out of the hotel's street, and sat down, her back against the cool stone of a building, to cry properly.
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Lindsey dodged the small streak of crying teenager, and looked around, bewildered. Angel hadn't had *another* miracle child, had he?
Spread eagled across the couch, in an unconsciously provocative position, Faith lay fast asleep, her chocolate brown hair tumbled around her face, fists balled against her sides. A small prickling of desire sprang over Lindsey, though he quickly repressed it, his jaw tightening. Lauren's mother.. He pushed it away. She'd been more a solace for Darla, than anything else.
He sat down on the opposite couch, and propped his chin on his hand, staring into space, the photographs that remained tucked inside his jacket.
Shock was washing over him, replacing the anger. His little girl. He swallowed, remembering how he'd hurried her that morning. Lauren always.. Had always, loved everything about the morning, taking it slow, laid back. Like he used to do. His heart ached as he recalled the sight, the sounds of her. The silky feel of soft brown baby hair, the huge grin, the bright sparkle in the blue eyes. Chubby little arms closing around his neck in a loving hug. The lisping, 'night night Daddy' as she went to sleep. His head shot up, the blue eyes blazing with grief, his jaw set.
A young girl stepped down the stairs towards him. Honey blonde hair hung over her shoulders, and her eyes were lowered, until she saw him, and then large, moss-green eyes settled on his face.
"Can I help you?" she asked politely, her voice low. He blinked. Perhaps the colouring, and the memories of .. She looked so much like Darla, he shook his head a second, then focused on her again. Childish features, in adolescence, he guessed around thirteen.
"Does.Angel still work here?" he asked, his voice rough. She blinked.
"Yeah. I can go get him for you, if you want?" she asked. He nodded. She looked towards the sleeping Slayer, and a tiny smile appeared.
"I'll go," she mumbled, turning towards the stairs. His mind clicked into gear. Another teenager. A girl. Even Angel couldn't work like that..could he? Cordelia.Fred?
Moments later, the vampire descended, a surprised expression on his face, that turned rapidly dark.
"Lindsey," he growled.
"I need help." It cost him so much to come to this guy, and beg. Not the begging, hell, he'd barely have survived as a kid without begging from neighbours, begging for himself, and his siblings, but the vampire had, to all extents and purposes, kicked him out of the city. That, and stolen Darla. And the 'cops suck' sign. Three pull-overs. But, apart from Wolfram and Hart, the vampire was the only one who could really help at all.
"Right." Angel folded his arms, and looked the other man up and down. "Why?"
From the couch, Faith stirred. Stretching, her eyes blearily focused on the man standing beside the vampire.
"Gonna introduce me, Angel?" she drawled, Lindsey gave her a cursory glance, then turned back to the vampire.
"Are you going to, or not?" he asked. Angel looked at him again.
"I'll help," he said finally.
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Sitting back against the building, Faye sketched absently, tearstains still on her cheeks, shining in the lamplight. Looking down at the pad, she shivered. The lines appearing were clearly showing the picture from her dreams. Why had she even thought of it? It was disgusting, when she'd woken up, she'd been ill, it was so horrible. The little girl had so clearly been gorgeous when she was alive, why she had seen her like this .. Her fingers trembled, and she dropped the pencil, a shiver running down her spine. Faye looked up instinctively.
A hand slipped across her mouth, silencing her screams, as the blade slid cleanly into her throat. The sketchpad lay forgotten.
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Starr opened the main door, and slipped inside, her smile still floating on her lips. The entire experience had been... eye opening. The power that was available to her, if she became.. Part of her had relished the fight, the conquering of her fear, and the enemy, delighting in an innate ability, while sorely feeling the lack of power. She glanced around, but the foyer was empty. Running up the stairs lightly, she sat down hard on her bed, laughing softly.
Wesley paused in the hall, hearing the little giggle, an indulgent smile crossing his face. He knocked on the door. Starr sprang up, and pulled it open.
"First patrol fun?" the ex-Watcher asked dryly. She grinned, and nodded, her black curls bobbing around her neck. Her cheeks were still flushed red with excitement.
"I never realised there was so much.. Travers, he seemed to make it so... He didn't describe the feeling of it, oh, it was.." She hugged herself tightly, whirling around happily. "Magical. I actually slew a vampire tonight, Wesley. Me! I always thought only the true Slayer, and yet," Starr smiled up at him, her grey eyes filled with wonder. "I was part of it."
"It's an amazing experience," he agreed, sitting down on the bedspread. She dropped down beside him.
"What was it like, when you. You killed a vampire?" she asked softly, her eyes fixed on his own. He smiled, remembering.
"The Watcher's Academy allows its students to experience such things as part of training. I was sixteen years old, handed a weapon, and led into a caged arena, with floodlights upon it, and an unarmed vampire, who hadn't been fed for weeks, was led out, restrained, so I could slay it, without getting hurt. And I was bloody terrified!" he laughed. She joined in.
"So, not quite the same," he finished, smiling at her. She nodded.
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The scream that broke the silence was shrill, and terrifying. Starr and Wesley raced down the corridor, following Cordelia, as they ran into Jane's room. The child sat up in bed, her eyes wide, her pupils huge, and black, mouth open in a scream.
"She must have had another nightmare," Cordelia said, sitting down on the bed. She reached out to hold the child, and pulled her close, holding her tightly. Jane stiffened, but then, her thin shoulders shuddered, and she began to cry.
"Shhh, honey. Shhh," Cordy crooned, rocking her back and forth, as Angel stepped into the room.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Cordelia whispered, hugging Jane to her. "A nightmare."
iGirl, blood, so much, blood spilt there, fire, flames, so much blood, throat cut, eyes wide, screaming, alive, dead, fire, burning, burning/i
"Sweetie, it was a nightmare. It isn't real, it isn't real,' Cordy promised. Jane leant against her, tears still spilling down her cheeks.
"I've got to get back. Lindsey, he's downstairs. In the office," Angel said awkwardly. Wesley glanced at him.
"I'll join you," he said shortly.
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Faith leant against the wall, her arms folded as she studied the man seated on her left.
"Why Angel?" she asked. Lindsey lifted his head to look at her.
"Excuse me?"
"Why Angel?" she repeated, shrugging. "I mean, you were with a bad ass law firm, why not go to them?"
"You ever known kids?" he asked her. Her mind flashed to a little girl, saw her face once more, and felt the bittersweet pain in her heart, but shrugged again, nonchalantly. "Might do."
"Well, take a look," he said, dropping a sheaf of photographs onto Angel's desk. She picked one up, more from curiosity than anything, but her stomach churned.
A little girl, beautiful and healthy, only some dick had decided to shove a bunch of holes in her neck, and drain her blood dry. She dropped it abruptly, as if her fingers had been burned, and moved back, shaking.
Some pervert could have done that to any kid, and their parents, sisters, brothers would never have known. Her stomach rolled, and she felt physically ill.
"Who was she?" she managed. Lindsey watched her.
"My daughter. Lauren," he answered finally. "I want to find the person who did that to her."
"And we'll help," Angel's voice sounded, and both turned to look at the vampire. "Lindsey."
"Thank you," the man muttered, scooping up the photographs. "I'm going back to my hotel. You can reach me here." He dropped a card onto the desk, and walked out.
"That was.. Short," Wesley commented.
"Don't blame him," Faith spoke up, not looking at him.
"So what do we do now?" Wesley asked Angel. The vampire picked up the photograph again.
"The symbol. We need to find out what it means. Is this the first murder like this? It's ritual, isn't it?"
"Yes," Wesley said slowly. "The piercing of the throat by a tri-bladed knife, in order to allow the blood from the jugular vein fully. Used in Druidic sacrifices, I think. Dates from about 600 BC."
"Exactly. Who is doing this, and where," Angel ordered grimly.
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"I brought tea," Starr said softly, setting down the china cup. Wesley gave her a brief smile.
"Thank you, Starr. What time is it?" he yawned. She looked at her watch.
"Ten to three. Want some help?"
He smiled again, gratefully. "If you wouldn't mind.?" She took a book from his hand, and flipped it open, sitting down on the other side of the desk.
"Where are the others?" he asked, a moment later. She looked up.
"Gunn and Angel are looking on the street, trying to find out if anyone knows of ritual murders, Cordelia's asleep, with Jane, Fred's doing a computer search and I'm here." She shrugged one shoulder, and gave him a faint smile.
"Jess, Faye and Gabby?"
"Haven't seen Gabby and Faye, I think they're with the others. Jess is upstairs though, sulking about something. She won't tell me what."
Wesley yawned again. "Sounds like any other thirteen year old to me."
"Ooh! Found something!" She pointed, and hurriedly, he got up, and stood behind her to take a look.
"It's the same symbol, but my Greek isn't that good. It says something about, 'restoring what comes before.' That, or, 'my duck has six wheels.'"
Wesley shook his head. "Your Greek is terrible. It is used in rituals of the bringing back of what has gone before." She raised an eyebrow.
"Restoring isn't *that* bad a translation."
"Restoration happens to a painting," he answered, with a grin. She shrugged.
"Meh. Potato, Potatoe."
He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "So, the symbol is used in a ritual to bring back something." He pored over the text. "Hmm. It doesn't refer to a particular object, I was hoping the Tool of Persephone would be linked somehow, but it doesn't seem-"
"Tool of Persephone?" Gunn was propped against the doorway, an eyebrow raised. "That's not exactly a mystical name. Tool?"
Wesley glared. "Yes. Tool. Sometimes, the creators did come straight to the point."
Starr hopped off the desk where she'd perched. "So, street people. How'd that work out?"
Gunn glanced at her. "Nothin'. There's some big shit out there. People are hidin'. We pulled out zip." He grinned. "Beat the crap outta a coupla demons though."
"Fun," Starr said brightly. She turned back to Wesley. "Seeing as it's early in the morning, I'm going to try and sleep."
"Goodnight, then," Wesley replied. She pushed her hair behind her ears.
"See ya Gunn."
"G'night," the black man replied.
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Starr opened the door. The bedroom was in darkness, pitch black.
"Faye?" she whispered. No answer. Yawning, she slipped into her pyjamas, and beneath the covers, sleepily. The younger girl was fast asleep.
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The sketchpad lay abandoned on the sidewalk, the half completed sketch still recognisable. Lauren's pretty, blood spattered face looked up from the page.
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A/N: I have to repeat, it's getting easier and easier just to shelve SR, and the sequels, as I can't upload, and have to persuade, and beg people to do so for me. Lighten the load for me, and R/R