Title:  Dimension Hopping for the Modern Minion

Author: Xander03

Rating: R (language)

Summary:  "Please take your seats.  Faith and I will be discussing the possible end of the world for a few moments, don't mind us."

Author's Notes:  Spoilers through the ends of Season 4 Angel and Season 7 Buffy.  Thanks to K, verucawerewolf, spifarific, and h0taru.  And R for some "beta-testing."  I have a big welcoming party in my inbox for feedback and constructive criticism, swing by and enjoy the cake (of various flavors, and with ice cream!).

***

"There's no way that's normal," Gunn said, before taking a bite from his hot dog.  A player for the home team had just tackled four people in one flying leap, and the crowd had fallen silent at the crunch.

"This sport is not normal anyway," Wesley said.  "Young men putting on padding and then running into each other doesn't strike you as a tad insane?"

"Nah, man, it's a sport.  A manly sport."  Gunn scooted forward on the bleachers.  "I just wish it was a warmer sport.  My butt is getting cold."

"Further proof this game makes no sense.  People hitting each other on the field, others sitting in the freezing cold watching."

"You're here, aren't you?"

"It's for a case, Gunn," Wesley said, adjusting his binoculars and scanning the field.  Another tackle, this time with a visiting team member's helmet flying off and landing several yards away.  "There are no visible signs of demonic activity, although I'm sure it is there based on the amplitude of violence.  Let's go to the locker area and see what we can find there."

The two men climbed over other spectators and made their way to the aisle, and then to a staff entrance.  "Are these normally unguarded?" Wesley asked, pushing through the doors.

"Dude, it's a high school game.  It isn't like the pros where there are obsessed fans."

"Let's just find the lockers.  I was unable to locate a map of this facility online."  Wesley turned a corner and ran into the home team locker room door.

"High school team, remember Wes?  It isn't like they're going to have a maze under the stadium," Gunn said.  "Knock on wood, anyway."

The coach from last week's visiting team had come to Angel Investigations on Wednesday of that week, looking for someone to find out how the lowest ranked team the year before had become so dominant.  At first, Wesley thought perhaps the man was just upset he lost.  But after hearing of the team's injury report – twelve boys with several broken bones, fifteen with concussions, and four with permanent disabilities – he decided to visit the game.

"Well, that was easier than I'd expected," Gunn said, pointing to the pentagram drawn on the locker room floor.  "Definitely demonic."

Wesley bent down to study the marking.  "This is interesting.  Very advanced for high school students."  He used his handkerchief to rub some of the marking off.  "If I'm not mistaken, this is a rare powder only found in certain South American lowlands.  It is only used to invoke the powers of one God, Nsm."

"Why do you know that?"

"It's my job."

"Right.  So, what exactly do we do now?  I don't want to start beating up on some high school kids."

"That's good," a voice said behind them.  "Because the only beating is going to be of you."  Two young men, wearing football jerseys with their jeans, came from around the lockers.  One of them swung at a locker for show, leaving a giant hole where his fist had connected.

"Gentlemen, I have some questions for you," Wesley said.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time, man, but you're going down," the one who didn't hit the locker said.

"Nevertheless, it's my job, Mr. – uh – forty-two," Wesley said, looking at the jersey numbers.  "And you must be thirty-six.  How convenient.  Do you boys know which God you have called upon for your superior strength?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Forty-two asked.

Thirty-six moved toward Gunn.  "Who cares man, let's just get rid of them."

"You've called up on the power of Nsm," Wesley said, "and he'll not be happy when I do this…" Wesley stepped back onto the drawing, and then pulled his shoe along the floor and across one of the lines, wiping most of the powder away.

"Whatever," Thirty-six said.  He swung at Gunn.  The lights in the locker room suddenly went off, and when his fist connected, his strength was gone.

"You hit like a girl, man," Gunn said, punching the youngster in the nose and sending him crashing back into the lockers, squealing in pain.

The now incomplete drawing on the floor began to glow, and the floor began to shake.  Wesley looked at Forty-two and said, "Nsm will come to claim your soul now.  He does that after you break the seal.  First you, then your teammates on the field.  Any last words?"

"What?  That isn't supposed to happen!  You have to make it stop!  Please!"  Forty two started scrambling backwards.  He tripped and fell to the floor.

"I suppose I could," Wesley said, looking at the markings, getting brighter with every second.  "But first I'd like to know who supplied you with this spell."  It was unlikely the high school student had discovered it on their own.

"I don't know, some guy!  We paid him a crap load of money so we could win!  Our parents got in together and paid him."

The shaking increased, and cracks started to form on the floor and walls.  "His name?" Wesley asked, calmly.

Gunn started to sweat and look nervously at the marking.  "Wes?"

"He was from that law firm!  Wolf something!  He's a lab guy!"  Forty-two urinated in his pants. "Please, make it stop!  He didn't say this was going to happen!  He said it'd be safe!"

Wesley waved his hand over the marking, and the shaking started to subside.  He glanced at Gunn, who was visibly relieved.  "He must have had a name, what was it?"

Thirty-six had regained enough composure to answer.  "Knox.  The guy's name was Knox."

"Thank you," Wesley said, and walked out the door, Gunn following.  The sounds from the crowd were remarkably different now, and it seemed the home team had taken a turn into bad luck.

"What the hell was that?" Gunn asked once they were in the parking lot.  "You would have just let this Nsm thing eat those kids?"

Wesley hit the button to unlock the doors.  "Nsm wasn't there.  He doesn't eat souls.  The boys weren't in danger.  All that shaking was from the drawing losing it's power.  I just timed it right so they thought I had some control over it."

"Oh.  I knew that."

Both men got in the car and Wesley said, "I think it's time we paid Wolfram and Hart a visit."

***

Angel sat behind his desk.  Fred, Wesley, and Gunn sat in chairs; facing the one Knox was in.  He was backpedaling, and Angel wondered if he was going to pass out from hyperventilating.

"That was all last year, I swear, before we got all good," he said.  "We were evil then, it was okay."

"No," Angel said.  "Fred was kind enough to check the inventory and your activities and you sold it to them four weeks ago."

"Looks like you've got some other buyers, by the looks of your bank account," Wesley said.  "What else have you been stealing from the company and pawning off?"

"Nothing, I promise!"

"Yeah, sure, I believe you," Angel said.  "I love that black market information you just stumble upon."

"That's not all," Fred said.  Once she knew Knox was suspect, it'd taken less than an hour to decrypt his computer security and discover his extra activities.  "He lied about those metal strips.  I checked his workstation.  He knows exactly where they came from, and what they're for."

"The Senior Partners made me do that!" Knox protested.  "It was Lilah!  She swore I wouldn't get caught, that you all would never know!"

"We expect her to screw us over," Angel said.  "But she's not on our payroll."  He hit a button on his phone, and a tactical team quickly arrived from the lobby.  They grabbed Knox, cuffed him, and took him away.

"What will happen to him?" Gunn asked.

Angel said, "Did you know I have dungeon?  I do.  That's where he's going.  It's like prison, only without the ability to use magic."

"Nice," Gunn said. 

"Do you think Lilah set him up on this?" Fred asked.

"Anything is possible," Angel shrugged.  "But I think I've made it obvious my employees no longer work for the Senior Partners and don't answer to Lilah.  If she did order him to do it, he could have come to me."

"Fred, tell me more about the metal Faith received," Wesley said.

"Oh, he's got a whole report on it.  Or he did.  He erased it.  I had to search hard to find it.  I think it was for Lilah.  Turns out they are from the Nacluv clan in the restricted dimension Tnacsuroc."

"Tnacsuroc?" Wesley asked.  "That's the same dimension discussed in the book stolen from the Council's headquarters recently."

"Probably not a coincidence," Gunn said.

"No," Angel agreed.  "Which is something the Senior Partners didn't want us to discover, according to Knox.  Now the question is why."

***

"Of course Wolfram and Hart would have a copy of a book that has no copy," Xander said, flipping through the pages of the text.  Angel, Fred, Gunn, and Wesley had used the information they discovered through Knox to find hidden information about their problem in the Wolfram and Hart archives.  They'd brought everyone a copy of the stolen text.

"Interesting," Wesley said.  "These photos on the seventh page, the Slautriodor… Faith, don't the items you received look like these?"

Faith pulled the metal strips from her pocket, and compared.  "Yeah."  She passed him the rods.

"The whole book is about the rituals there," Fred pointed out.  "What children in both groups have to do in order to become an adult in their society."

"Not only an adult," Robin added, "but a full fledged member of their military."

"Doesn't sound pleasant," Angel said, examining one of the rituals closely.  "The Rehcaet, uh, which I guess is the adult mentor, decides when an initiate gets to progress, and what that initiate must do in the meantime.  The student, a Renrael, seems to be a slave to the mentor during that time."

"How long does that last?" Gunn asked.

"We'd have to do more calculations," Wesley said, "but based on the information given here and the time structure they use, I estimate several of our years go between rituals.  So the entire process of the four rituals may last around thirty years."

"Assuming they don't kill the student," Robin said, frowning at the book.

"What?" Gunn asked.

"It says here," Robin continued, "that if the student isn't living up to expectations, they can be killed."

"Living at their master's will," Angel said.  "A pretty common occurrence among demons."

"That has to suck.  What happens if they don't want to have a master anymore?" Faith asked.

Wesley said, "In normal demonic cultures they would probably try to best their superiors in a fight, often losing, and then dying.  Here, it seems that the student is magically linked to their mentor, and all the master has to do is will their death."

"Takes care of insubordination," Angel said.  "It says the Slautriodor are used to establish the link between master and student.  During the rituals, the master places a single Slautirod somewhere on the body of the student.  When both will it, the Slautirod attaches itself and then essentially burns itself onto the skin.  It is very painful, and considered just another test for the initiate."

"These cultures have only limited times of peace with each other," Wesley said.  "The Natit and Nacluv as they are called are usually warring.  The harsh training methods probably reflect that."

"Again, with the suckage," Xander said.  "So where does this put us?  I mean, did we learn anything today other than Wolfram and Hart has evil employees and a big library?"

Angel glared at him before answering, "Well, it is obvious the Senior Partners didn't want us to find this.  Lilah had Knox hiding it."

"Maybe they were hiding to protect some plan," Faith suggested.

"Makes sense.  These demons sound pretty nasty," Gunn said.  "Maybe the Senior Partners wanted to get their hands on some young ones, bring them over here, and use them against us."

"Perhaps," Wesley agreed, "But that doesn't explain why you received the Slautriodor.  If they were planning on bringing a young demon here, they'd want those.  It would seem that someone other than the Senior Partners wants you to be involved."

"So someone, perhaps the Powers that Be, gave her the tools to control a demon?" Gunn asked.

"Or the Licnuoc," Wesley said.  "They would have the ability to create these Slautriodor.  I assume they could find some way to send them to Faith.  I am willing to bet the two groups of demons in the dream are the Natit and the Nacluv."

"Think they'll send me a demon?" Faith joked.  "I could use someone to do my laundry."

"That could be interesting," Fred said. 

"Maybe they're sending us a demon for use against the Senior Partners," Robin said.  "And that's why Lilah was covering this up.  It probably wouldn't make her bosses happy if we added more good guys."

"We still don't know who took the book from the Council.  We didn't find any evidence that Wolfram and Hart was involved there," Wesley said.

"We might have missed it," Fred said.  "We didn't notice the other stuff before; maybe they hid the theft better."

"What better way to send us off track than by making us believe it was some random demon?" Xander asked.

"The Senior Partners might have sent someone to steal the book from the Council if they feared we might find it and use it to our advantage," Robin said.

"Angel," Wesley said, "I think you and Fred should go back to your office and continue searching.  I'll contact Giles and discuss the new information, and we'll see what we can come up with."

"Okay," Angel said.  "We'll call if we find anything."

***

Giles sat frowning at his desk.  Wesley had faxed a copy of what he thought was a unique book, saying they'd found it at Wolfram and Hart.  It seemed the Senior Partners were involved in the theft.

The text itself was simple enough, fortunately translated to English at some point.  A child is born to a member of the Nacluv or Natit, and it undergoes the ritual of Sitpab.  This marks the child as either being from the Nacluv or Natit.

Later, presumably during adolescence, the child loses all inherited abilities and powers, and then leaves the parent to stay with a Rehcaet.  During this time, the Rehcaet observes the child to see how he or she adapts to the sudden lack of dexterity, strength, and magical abilities.  Once the Rehcaet has determined the child to be ready, the Mrifnoc ritual is completed, and the child is considered a Renrael.  The Renrael begins to gain all abilities back at that point, plus some that are the basis for their final powers.

"It's like a level drain," Andrew said, reading the same page on another desk.

"What?"  Giles asked.  He looked to Dawn to see if she understood, but she also seemed confused.

"A level drain.  In D&D."  He paused, looking like he expected them to catch up.  "Okay…"

"Oh!  Is that the thing you were telling me about that runs Baldur's Gate?"  Dawn asked.  Andrew had installed that game on her computer for her, and she'd been playing it every night after work for a week.

"Yes!  Exactly.  Like when you run into the undead in that game, they drain your level.  Then you can use a restore spell to get it back," Andrew said.

"And this relates how?" Giles asked.

"They lose their powers like a level drain!  And then, the ritual is like a restore spell."  Andrew smiled, proud of his analogy.

Willow and Buffy walked into the office as he finished.  "Please don't tell me you all are taking about a video game instead of work," Willow said, putting the office supplies she and Buffy had bought on a nearby table.

"No, I was comparing what happens to the Natit and Nacluv to Dungeons and Dragons," Andrew said.

"Now you're mixing work with games," Buffy said.  "Great.  I think that's worse."

"Get anything new?" Willow asked.

Giles leaned back in his chair, more slowly than he'd like, as he feared it might collapse.  "Not since this came," indicating the copy.  The fax machine came to life, beeping and shoving out paper.  "I stand corrected," Giles said.

Willow went to the fax machine and waited for the papers to come out.  After reading the cover letter, she said, "Fred looked at the code used to break into our security system.  She recognized some pieces of it, and compared it to the hack someone used to break into a baby eating business.  She thinks it is the same hacker."

"So if the thief is working for the Senior Partners, why did they mess with a business?"  Buffy asked.

"Fred says that their sources say the hacker behind that crime was a demon named Nysa," Willow said.  "They're going to find her and ask her that."

"What about the other rituals?  You were explaining them before Andrew's little comparison," Dawn said to Giles.

"Oh yes.  Right."  He looked back down at the papers.  "So after the Mrifnoc, the student belongs to the master.  They are very dedicated there, it seems.  The Rehcaet will then continue to train the Renrael, subjecting them to various tests and trials.  Next comes the Tirtnoc, a ritual to instill obedience."

"Which is good," Buffy said.  "Because at this point, you never know what that youngster might be thinking."

"As I said, they take it quite seriously," Giles said.  "The Rehcaet can actually kill the Renrael with thought alone, if he should want to.  The Renrael's power would be transferred to the master at that point, so it's probably a good thing the Rehcaets are chosen wisely."

"There can be only one," Andrew said with his most manly voice.

"Oh.  I am so glad you didn't have that power when I was in high school," Buffy said, ignoring Andrew.

"As am I.  Moving on, there is the Tirtsal, where the Renrael is allowed to go out on their own, essentially.  If they survive all the rites and the time in between, the final ritual is the Numoc where the Rehcaet shows his acceptance of the Renrael as an adult and fellow warrior."

"It's like leveling up!"  Andrew yelled.  After sitting under everyone's stare for several seconds he said, "Like in D&D.  Again."

***

"Bravo Four, in position."

"Bravo Two, in position."

"Bravo Three, in position."

"Command, this is Bravo leader.  Bravo team in position."

Angel listened at the command post, two blocks down from the suspected location.  His instructions were clear, the hacker was to be captured, not killed.  He still worried something might go wrong, especially with a whole team of snipers waiting with fingers on triggers.  He'd negotiated down Bravo team from ten men to just four, and hoped that might curb any aggression.

"Alpha leader to Command, we're good to go and awaiting your signal."

"Charlie leader to Command, we're in position."

"Sir?"  The radio operator looked up at Angel.

"Tell them not to fire."

"Sir, we've told them."

"Tell them again," Angel growled.  The Wolfram and Hart people were very efficient soldiers.  Too efficient, he'd noticed a few times.  He'd had the whole group sing for Lorne prior to the mission to make sure they were loyal to him, and not the Senior Partners or Lilah.  He didn't want the hacker to accidentally end up shot.

"Command to all teams, remember command is golf delta.  Golf delta, repeat?"

"Alpha leader, golf delta."

A loud beep came over the radio.  "Oops."  It was Fred's voice.  She was at the office, monitoring the situation.  She had her own radio, but wasn't good at using it yet.

The teams didn't seem to notice.  "Bravo leader, golf delta."

Angel nodded, and said, "Go."

"This is command.  Operation Hotel Charlie is a go.  Repeat, Hotel Charlie is a go."

Alpha team threw the doors to their vans open and stormed the sides of the small building.  According to reports and traces left on the Internet, Fred was sure the hacker who'd attacked AI's almost-client and compromised the Council's security system had a small armada of computers lined up and in use, attacking systems all across the world.   

The demon known as Anne Smith, real name Nysa, was using this bar in the middle of Los Angeles to generate millions of dollars illegally, organize thefts for the Senior Partners, and perpetrate a variety of other crimes on demons. 

"Alpha one through five at front."

"Alpha six through ten at rear."

"Alpha eleven ready."

"Alpha twelve ready."

"This is Alpha leader.  On my mark… Mark!"

Both the back and front doors were blown off their hinges.  Flash grenades were tossed in windows at either side.  Screams from the bar could be heard at the command post, but there were no gunshots. 

"This is Alpha leader, the main floor of the bar is clear.  We're securing the people inside now, and then we'll move downstairs."

"Bravo team leader here, no movement on the streets."

Angel paced.  This was the time to prove to the others that he and Fred weren't in the right place.  The resources of Wolfram and Hart could be used for the mission of good.

"Charlie leader to Command, no movement in the sewers."

"Roger all teams.  Proceed with caution."

Angel listened nervously, although the radio was silent for a few moments.  "Alpha leader to Command," cackled across the radio.

"What do you have, Alpha team?" the radio operator asked.

"Four non-hostile demons playing poker.  No computers."

Angel grabbed the radio.  "What do you mean, no computers?"

"No computers at all, sir," the Alpha team leader responded.  "There are four demons, a bunch of cards, and several boxes of kittens.  Names on the demons are Tim, Sam, Dave, and Clem.  No last names or other identification.  They are unarmed."

"Great," Angel said to himself, throwing the radio down, and pacing in the following silence

Fred's voice broke the air on the radio.  "I, uh, think we got tricked."  A pause.  "Oh, and this is Fred.  To Command, or something."

***

"Wesley is a genius."

"I wouldn't go that far, Kennedy," Faith said, crouching behind a raised skylight.  "He just figured our hacker would outsmart the lawyers."

"And he was right."  Both Slayers looked across the roof at a figure lying on her stomach at the edge of the roof.  She was looking down through the city with binoculars.  Faith and Kennedy watched as she laughed softly when the Wolfram and Hart team came out of the building empty-handed.

"Got to give her credit," Kennedy said.  "That was pretty smooth."

"But cocky.  She shouldn't have stuck around to watch," Faith said.  They assumed the girl was Nysa, their demon cat burglar.  Wearing black trousers, boots, shirt, and mask, carrying various high tech items, and possessing an aura that definitely said, "Don't fuck with me," she looked like something from a movie.  "Don't forget, she's got a reputation for being able to get away quickly."

"I was at the briefing, too."  Kennedy tried not to scowl at the older Slayer. They'd sat through a briefing with Fred about all the known information about Nysa.  Roughly human looking, of unknown species, and capable of remarkable physical feats.  She was notorious among the more evil demons, striking them when they were unaware and leaving no trace of her theft.  The few times she'd been cornered, no one had been able to capture or kill her.

"Okay, let's go with the talking plan.  Seems safer than a head on assault," Faith said.  Kennedy started to argue the plan, but Faith cut her off with, "Ready?"

Kennedy nodded, and they stood.  They took a few steps toward the target, stopping when she heard them and jumped to her feet.

"Hey there," Faith said.  "Um, I'm Faith, and this is Kennedy, we'd like to talk to you."  Faith and Kennedy held still, trying to display a non threatening image.  "Really, its okay," Nysa wasn't moving away, but didn't seem interested in becoming fast friends, either.  "We just wanted to ask you about the baby eating demons."

Nysa bolted across the roof.  "Nice one," Kennedy said, as the two Slayers gave chase.

"Fast.  Runner."  Kennedy was out of breath, and trying to communicate with Faith as they jumped from one rooftop to another.  She landed hard, and tripped over a small satellite dish.

"Demon," Faith replied, grabbing Kennedy's arm and hauling her back to her feet.

"Not fair," Kennedy said, climbing up a ladder.  "She doesn't need to breathe."  Metal clanged under the three sets of feet, and Kennedy registered the sound of a woman screaming when she saw three bodies leap over her skylight

"And she can jump father," Faith added, noticing that ahead there was a gigantic space between buildings.  It was unlikely the Slayers could make it.

Nysa looked over her shoulder at the Slayers as she approached the edge of the roof.  She was leading them, and the gap grew wider every second.  Faith and Kennedy slowed as Nysa came to the edge of the roof; the chase was almost over.  They would lose the thief.

Nysa turned to face forward upon seeing the Slayers slow.  With just a few feet to spare, she noticed the edge of the roof, looked at the distance between buildings, and flung herself backwards.  She slid off the edge of the roof, barely grabbing a hold of the edge with one hand to keep herself from falling the twenty stories to the ground.  Then she screamed.

"This cannot be the same demon Fred briefed us on," Faith said, running to the edge.

"Help?"  The demon tried to get her other hand to grab the edge of the building.  Her body and legs bounced precariously off the side, and she glanced down at the road.

Kennedy looked down.  "What's your name?"  At a look from Faith, she shrugged.  "No time like the present to ask her those questions."

"I'm Nysa!"

"Okay, here's the problem with that story," Faith said. "We were told that this Nysa hacker demon we were looking for was pretty much uncatchable.  Faster than a speeding bullet, can leap tall buildings in a single bound, the whole nine yards."

"You just fell off a roof," Kennedy added, crossing her arms.

Nysa finally got her other hand up on the edge, and she stopped swaying.  "I'm sorry?  What do you want me to say?  Are you going to help me or not?"

"Kinda rude, considering," Faith said.

"I say we leave her here."

"Or kick her off."

"Okay, okay," Nysa said.  "Look, I've, uh, had some problems lately.  With the jumping and the running and the Superman bit."

"So you're the Nysa that hacks for the Senior Partners, and you expect us to believe that you randomly went into a slump?"  Kennedy asked.

"The senior who?"

"Wait a second," Faith said, squatting down and staring at the demon.  "What kind of crazy demon loses their powers for no apparent reason??"

"Nacluv and Natit demons."

The stunned Slayers took several seconds before responding.  "Oh."

***

"This is completely unacceptable!"  Angel was standing in front of Wesley's desk in the office.  He kept turning like he might walk off and then turning again to say more, which made it look like he was spinning in place.  "You can't just decide that I'm going to fail and send in your own team, Wesley!"

Wesley sat calmly behind his desk.  Robin, Gunn, and Xander were on the wall opposite the door.  Faith and Kennedy were near the door, and Kennedy looked like she wanted to leave, and quickly.  Nysa sat in a chair in the middle, watching the vampire warily.  He'd arrived just after the Slayers had brought her to the Academy.

"Actually, Angel, I can, and I did," Wesley said.

"How are we supposed to coordinate our activities if – "

"We're not," Wesley said.  "You are in charge of a law firm that was evil just a few months ago.  You'll have to forgive us if we're not very trusting."

"You could at least tell me when your missions overlap mine!"

"Great," Xander said.  "Then, when the Senior Partners decide to screw you over, they can look at your planner, and find us too."

"Xander…" Robin looked at the other man sternly.

"He's got a point," Gunn agreed.

"I would like to point out that we did find her," Wesley said, drawing Angel's attention from the other Guardians back to him.

"So I noticed," Angel snapped.  He turned around and glared at the other demon in the room.  She stared back at him, not moving or looking nervous.  "You look kinda small, for everything I've heard about you."

"And you look kind of stupid for what I've heard about you," she replied.

Faith and Kennedy snickered.  Xander said, "I like this one already."

"What are you talking about?" Angel growled, snarling.

"The vampire cursed with a soul, Angelus, consorting with the forces of good, so all the while running an evil law firm?  Sounds pathetic.  Can't even keep track of what side you're on."  There was no laughing now in the room, and the uneasy certainty there was about to be a fight settled on everyone.

He leaned down so he was in Nysa's face.  "And which side would you be on?"

"I never claimed to have a side," Nysa said.  "Although I try not to piss off the good side.  Longer life expectancy that way."

"Maybe you haven't met the truly evil yet, then," Angel said.

"And I suppose you'll show me.  Not afraid of the big brooding blood sucker, sorry."

"Enough."  Wesley stood.  "Angel, you can either stay here or leave, but let's move on to the task of determining what to do with Nysa."

Angel nodded, and moved to lean against the far wall.  "We'll continue this some other time, Wes.  Trust me."

"How about instead of 'determining' what to do with me," Nysa said, now throwing a defiant stare at Wesley, "you tell me why you were looking for me, what you want, and then show me to the door."

"Big words for a demon with nowhere to go," Kennedy said. 

"Big attitude for a Slayer with no permission to slay," Nysa said.

Faith, slightly more calm that the other Slayer, said,  "You did agree to come with us."

"And you neglected to mention you were working with a vampire in charge of Wolfram and Hart, who sent in an armed assault team to find me earlier tonight.  You'll have to forgive me if I'm not very trusting."

"You stole a book," Wesley said.  "This book."  He tossed a bound copy of the stolen text to her, returning to his seat.

She glanced at it briefly before nodding her head.  "I did.  So the Council sent two Slayers hunting for me?  Don't you all have anything better to do?"

"Why did you steal it?"  Wesley asked.

"Because I could."

Angel growled.  "Did you steal it for my law firm?  For someone called the Senior Partners?"

"I stole it for me, jackass," Nysa said, glancing over her shoulder.  "It's about the dimension I came from.  I had a question."

"You could have asked," Robin said.

"Dear brand-new Council of Guardians," Nysa said, mockingly.  "I know you've just gotten your asses handed to you by the ultimate evil.  I know you don't like demons.  I know you don't know who I am.  But could you please answer one little question for me, and not send your Slayers out to kill me?"

"Why did you steal it?" Wesley repeated.

Nysa sighed.  "That little problem of losing my powers that I told your Slayers can only be solved with the rituals of my home.  I wanted to see if I could find some other method of restoring them."

"And the answer?" Wesley asked.

"No.  I can't."

"Can we go back to why you are here to begin with?" Robin asked.  "I thought Tnacsuroc was restricted."

"You people ask a lot of questions," Nysa said.

"And you're going to answer them all," Kennedy said, crossing her arms.

Nysa stared at Kennedy for several seconds.  "Yes, I am.  But not because of you.  You may be a Slayer, but anyone with eyes can tell that only happened recently.  You're not in charge here."

Kennedy stepped forward, arms dropping to the ready.  Faith grabbed her shoulder and held her back.  "You going to say the same about me?" Faith asked.

Nysa returned her eyes to Wesley.  "I'm here because my people didn't want me.  My mother was of the Nacluv.  My father was of the Natit.  They were executed after my birth.  I live only because prophets foretold of a great battle against both groups, one that they would surely lose should they kill me.  But they didn't want me there, so they asked your Powers to let me stay here."

"Humans have lasted the longest and fought the hardest against the most aggressive demons.  They thought that should I come into my full power and attempt to use it unwisely, the Powers and their Champions would take care of me for them.  Do you all really think you would have any trouble taking me out if I became a problem?"

"Is that going to happen?"  Wesley asked.

"Right now I have no powers, and no way to get them," Nysa said.  "Even if I did, with no master to train me, I could never fully exploit the remarkable gifts I have inherited from my parents.  Furthermore, it isn't like I'd enjoy running around killing people.  The Natit and Nacluv normally fall within your guidelines for 'good guys.'"

Everyone in the room shifted, growing more and more anxious about their visitor, particularly Faith.  Wesley already reached the conclusion that perhaps Nysa was the demon Faith had jokingly called for, but it took her mention of a "master" to remind the others of the small metal strips currently possessed by Faith.  "What if the Licnuoc provided a master for you here?" he asked.

"Then I would ask to be made a Renrael and undergo the rituals."

"What side would you be on then?"

"Whatever side the Rehcaet was on, presumably.  I would follow them.  Why are you asking this?  The Licnuoc want nothing to do with me.  I'm only alive because they thought that by sparing me, it would somehow help them later on."

 Wesley looked at Faith, his eyes urging her to speak.  She tensely cleared her throat.  "Here's the deal.  I had a dream, a Slayer vision.  In the end, I ended up with these," she said, pulling out the Slautriodor and holding them out for Nysa to see, "which look a hell of a lot like – "

Nysa was instantly on her knees facing Faith, head bowed.  "The wise Licnuoc have sent you, master.  I was wrong to speak to you in the way I did.  I beg you to show pity on me and spare my life."

"- the ones we found in that book," Faith finished her sentence slowly.  "Well.  Fuck."