Whispers In The Dark

Chapter Two: No Bad Guy

"Never was and never will be

You don't know how you've betrayed me

And somehow you've got everybody fooled…"

—Evanescence

Her job sucked.

That's mostly what she thought everyday, when she wasn't thinking about ways to further please Diana than she already did. Whether it was getting coffee for Diana from the Starbucks down the street, or assassinating some supernatural person personally, the lengths she went to not get fired were amazing. Andrea lightly knocked on the door to the dark room, slightly cringing at the deafening sound of a young girl's scream.

She quickly ran a hand through her straightened brown hair, glancing down at her attire quickly, making sure there were no stains--she didn't want to get on Diana's bad side by something as petty as that.

Perfect. she thought, tearing her eyes away from her outfit, which was a leather skirt that ended just above her knee, and tight, sheer white t-shirt, with a very obvious black bra showing through the thin designer material. Wrapped around her waist was a white scarf, accenting her unbelievably thin waist even more. On her feet, she wore black boots, which reached just below her knee.

She clutched a file tightly in her right hand, something she had been told to give Diana, since she was Diana's personal assistant. Remember. Act calm, and don't speak much unless spoken to. she thought to herself, remembering what one of the people had told her very bluntly before, when she had applied for the job that 'a million girls would die for' only earlier that month. She hadn't had much interaction with Diana just yet, but from what she'd gathered, Diana was one of the most feared people in society. "Andrea, I need you to call Mr. Burton about Diana's meeting with him, on Friday." or rather, "Ahn-Dreh-Ah, I need you to cahll Mr. Buhr-Toun about Di-ahna's meeting with him on Friday." The head of some department said with her thick British accent as she passed Andrea, not doing so much as glancing at Andrea. "Yeah, I'll do it after I give this to Diana." Andrea replied as the woman walked away. "Yeah...if you even care." Andrea added, her voice barely above a whisper.

Another shriek emitted from the room, and a frightening, morbid silence sunk in, until Ms. Osbourne herself opened the door, only to see Andrea.

As Diana exited the room, Andrea took a deep breath and put on a huge smile.

"Excuse me, Ms. Osbourne?" she asked quietly, holding the file tightly in her right hand, which was hanging limply at her side. Good. That was a good start. she thought, proud of herself. "I, um, have these--these files for you, and since they're for you, I thought I should give them..." Stop talking already!


"...to you." she finished lamely, kicking herself for babbling, just when she had told herself not to.

Diana suddenly gave a slightly annoyed glance, mostly hidden by a façade of happiness from her exhilarating kills from last night and only a few seconds previously. She took the files, eyeing them curiously.

"What are they?" it, for once, didn't sound rude. It sounded sincere.

Andrea gave a smile, pointing to one.

"Well, this is about, um, Buffy Summers, it has a few tabs on her, and information about her and her past, the people that help her--I found a very interesting piece of information, actually. In...this file..." she pointed to a second file. "I found some interesting information... Buffy… she wasn't always a lone Slayer. She had friends, confides, who helped her in her murdering. And they're alive, most of them, anyway, despite our efforts." This isn't half bad. she thought, pleased with herself.

She eyed the file again, opening it, "The Angelus?" Diana repeated, laughing. "Buffy and… Angelus? And, ah… Xander Harris." She smiled wickedly. "He was associated with the Slayer?" she fingered one of the pages, the bemused expression from her face disappearing. "Willow and Cealyn Osbourne…" she spoke her own surname with poisonous disgust. What am I thinking? There are thousands of Osbournes out there…

"The one and only. He was granted his humanity after a huge battle--it was said he signed it away, but it was granted anyway, because of all the atonement he'd done.

He has had a soul since the early 1900's, only losing it twice before he was granted humanity." Andrea recited, having memorized everything she could about Buffy and her friends. "Someone spotted them around a small town near Los Angeles a few days ago--I doubt they've left yet." She added, ignoring the part about Willow and Cealyn.

"Yes… well, what are we waiting for? Send a team of field agents down there!" Diana smiled. "I want the child, though. The girl. Alive. Unspoiled. And Andrea? Be a dear, and get Alexander Harris to my office."

Andrea jumped slightly, though she nodded. "Yes...yes, of course...what should we--do you want all of them dead? Even the humans?" she asked, hoping it wouldn't be dubbed as a stupid question.

"Yes," she replied coldly, with a tone that shivers down Andrea's spine. "Weren't you listening, you fool—on second thought… no." she sighed, looking over the papers. "No. We wait. I admit I do not have the patience of a saint, but—we wait."

"Uh—why?"

Andrea, you dumbass!

"DON'T QUESTION MY JUDGEMENT!" Diana shouted, her lack of patience showing. "Now," she said, her tone softer as Andrea continued to shrink in her place. "Make that call to Mr. Harris, Andrea."

"R-R-Right on it, ma'am."

The moon was full. Its soft creamy white disc of a shape anchored above the man's head, gentle beams of moonlight flooding through the branches from overhead, causing the frost skirting the edges of leaves to sparkle. The solitary figure crouched under bushes and branches, slowly creeping toward his destination; a river, the mighty Hudson to be exact. The wide flow of rushing water created a perfect ambience in the clear, crisp full moon of October. And, as the man suspected, a meeting place for werewolves. They had formed a pack, meeting at the very place he was studying closely from the underbrush. The pack creates were dangerous, destroying property, killing humans, domesticated animals, and wildlife alike. And if, by chance, they mated, the destruction would only grow. That was why the new SEA agent was sent here.

He took the revolver, throwing, and hunting knifes from their respective sheaths, pointing at the center of the broad meeting place, where there was a jagged, sparking purple rock jutting from the granite. And for a while, he remained in the same position, though his hands grew shaky from the cold and the forces of gravity pressing in on him.

Until, finally, it came.

Its shaggy, brown fur glistening in the moonlight, the creature emerged from the forest. It was the classic image of the werewolf Hollywood first produced. It was a savage monster; ounces of salvia dangling from rapier-sharp teeth, dark yellow eyes, shaggy hair covering its body, with humanoid digits, though their nails were replaced with claws. It walked in a hunch, currently looking more like an ape than a wolf.

He loaded the gun, and the wolf's ears perked up at the familiar sound. It howled in warning, and darted away quickly. But not fast enough.

BANG!

The wolf's injury was sustained on its left shoulder, and it fell onto the ground, with more blood spewing out of the wound than one would expect. It was a silver bullet, after all. Since the injury wasn't fatal, the bullet's powers on werewolves would be. The man smiled in satisfaction. He'd killed their leader, and the wolves would become disoriented and separate. That was the plan, and it appeared to work. Other SEA agents were waiting at different points along the Hudson, awaiting the monsters' arrival with arsenals of silver bullet-loaded rifles, revolvers, and other assorted guns.

"Bingo." The man said into the headset. "Alpha werewolf down, I repeat, alpha down." He appeared from the bushes to the wolf's side. He hated the damn things, but not nearly as much as vampires. But, the look in the dying creature's eyes looked almost human, and for five seconds, he sympathized with it.

Make it go away, the thing's eyes seemed to say, make the pain stop. And so he did. Without haste, he stabbed the creature in its heart, or lack thereof, killing it instantly. Like the vampires.

But—and this was the part he loathed most—the monster turned into its human form. Once the agent's eyes caught it, he backed away, his eyes wide, his breathing mere pants.

And for a moment, the agent was Xander Harris again. And the man on the ground, bleeding and dead, was Oz.

He turned off the headset to sob. Why Oz? He'd murdered his friend…

It was considered an offence to the Greek gods to say that it could not get any worse. Well, the gods had certainly taken offence.

"OZ! OZ! Where are you? Oz?"

Xander wanted to scream as he saw his best friend—a girl he hadn't seen in months—transpire from the woods. Willow Rosenberg. Red hair and all. But Xander didn't scream. Willow's loud one was enough.

"Willow, it—it's… it's not what you think…" he lied; it was exactly what she was thinking. He was a murderer.

"YES IT IS!" his once shy friend confirmed through fits of sobs. Only then did Xander realize something.

A bulge in Willow's stomach.

She was pregnant.

"Assistant Director? Assistant Director Harris?" his secretary shook him thoroughly. "Sir, you have a call on line one. It—It's Diana, sir."

Xander was aroused by the name of his boss. "Uh—I'll get it…" he picked up the phone, still shaken by his nightmare. "What's going on?" he asked into the phone.

"I've business to discuss with you, A.D. Harris."

Author's Note: Well, Kat reqested it, so that's the new update. I hope you liked it. You know, Xander may not be Willow/Dawn/Connor/Cealyn's only betraying buddy…