Author's note: Hey guys! No time to talk, sorry, thanks for the reviews…next week there'll be no chapter of this story, instead the sidebar will be posting...

Those Who do not Remember 3

"I don't like this room." Connor said quietly, using Irish rather than English out of deference to the large number of people roaming around.

"I know you don't. We need to know what's happening."

"Why? You know something about this thing?"

"No, but it was almost a glamour, what it used, and no one except me or a witch should be able to do that. And we know it's not a witch, because they don't turn into goo when you…"

She stopped as Fred came up to them and offered the dagger back to Connor. "Cleaned up for you and everything."

"Thanks." Connor muttered, sliding it back into the sheath.

"Find anything?" Deirbhile asked.

"As near as we can tell, they have no form. They just shape themselves whatever way they need." Fred told her.

"Creepy." Deirbhile said absently.

"What are you thinking?" Connor asked.

"I'm just…there's no legend about this. Not that I remember."

"So?"

"The peist, and the bean sidhe…they're Irish legends. They came so close together, and now the…" she stopped, thinking rapidly. "No, that's not right either. Some of them could change shape, couldn't they?"

"Tara!" Connor said loudly, and she startled and looked up at him.

"Sorry. I'm trying to…I can't remember this properly. I think some of the Tuatha de Danaan could take on other forms, but only very specific ones. Not any one they wanted." She glanced at Fred. "So that's probably not much help. Sorry."

"You think your guys have something to do with this?" Connor asked her.

"Not my guys, no, they wouldn't be attacking…but there's something. It's linked."

"You have guys?" Fred asked.

Deirbhile gestured dismissively. "Complicated. And not relevant, either."

"You sure?" Wes asked from behind them. "The smallest detail can…"

"It's not relevant." she repeated. "Connor, let's go kill something."

Connor shrugged. "Kay."

"Kids are so romantic today, aren't they?" Knox said, passing by.

"Hey! You want trouble?" Deirbhile asked sharply. "I could give you coffins-full of trouble, boy. You try me."

"No!" Knox shook his head rapidly. "No, no trouble, I just…I didn't mean anything, it was just…"

"Think in future before you talk to me, and then don't." Deirbhile ordered. Knox nodded eagerly, almost falling over himself in his rush to get away.

"You shouldn't talk to him that way." Fred said mildly.

"Lot of things shouldn't be." Deirbhile answered. "Connor, let's go already."

Connor followed her without a word.

"She really shouldn't talk to Knox that way." Fred repeated, looking to Wes.

"You want to insist on that? She's not the most stable person."

"I heard that!" Deirbhile's voice echoed back to them.

"So, goo demons." Wes said immediately.

"You're loopy." Connor said conversationally.

They were wandering around the docks, usually a pretty good place to find various kinds of demon. Tonight they seemed fairly empty, and the two were wondering if something apocalyptic was happening that they just didn't know about.

"I know. It's LA, it happens." She shrugged. "They're used to it."

"You don't like that man."

"Knox…yeah. There's something about him. Why haven't we been attacked yet?"

"Because every demon in LA knows who we are? We're not exactly low-profile, Tara."

"No, I know, but it's…this is stupid. Let's go back."

"Wait." Connor caught her arm, holding her in place. "Look."

Two blocks down the street a warehouse was giving off a very faint glow. Anyone else, looking at it, would probably assume it was reflecting a streetlight. But Deirbhile could sense magic surrounding it, and Connor could feel…

Not the magic, exactly. He couldn't feel magic, usually. But he could sense something off about the building, and the closer they got the stronger the feeling was.

"I don't like it." he murmured.

"Yeah, it's…" Deirbhile held her hand in front of her, studying it. "There's something weird about it. Things…it feels wrong inside."

"Really? Could have told you that."

"No, I mean I can't sense inside it. Anything. It's like there's nothing there."

"I thought you couldn't sense in LA anyway."

"Not as well as normal, no, but I can get…impressions…that place is empty." Unconsciously, she shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't like it."

"It's not empty." Connor pointed to a window on the top floor, then another further along, a third on the ground floor. Shadows moved inside. "There's someone inside."

"I don't…" Deirbhile shook her head. "Let's call Angel first."

"I'm not waiting for him." Connor warned her.

"Never crossed my mind that you would." Deirbhile retorted. "At least if something goes wrong they'll know where to find our battered corpses."

Connor eyed her. "There won't be any corpses. Not ours, anyway."

She made a face as her 'phone connected, speaking quickly to Harmony and hanging up to chase Connor towards the building. "Will you please not break in? We'll be heard."

"We won't." Connor looked insulted.

"Connor, let's just…"

Connor raised a hand, cutting her off, and gestured quickly to one side of the building. Deirbhile let him guide her around to the side, where they climbed the fire escape on the next building over.

Connor crouched at the edge of the roof, listening carefully.

"Well?" Deirbhile asked softly.

"Lots of people." He cocked his head slightly. "Don't understand them."

"Demons, then." She moved to the edge of the roof, studying the next one. "Gravel. They'll hear us, Connor."

"We're not aiming for the roof." He pointed out a window that had been broken at some point.

"You want me to hit that?"

"Can you do it?"

"Of course I can do it, that's not the point. Why that one?"

"Far enough away from the voices. You first."

"Me first. Thanks. If there're guards, I'll meet them first. That's great." She launched herself from the edge of the roof, clearing the twenty feet with ease and catching the bottom of the frame. For a minute she just hung there, listening for any sound within; then she drew herself up and through the window in one smooth move.

Reaching back through the frame, she broke out some of the shards of glass before gesturing to Connor to follow her. He cleared the gap easily and was beside her a minute later.

"Hurt yourself?" he asked softly.

Deirbhile glanced at her hand where she'd inadvertently caught the glass in her landing. "It's nothing."

"Tie it up. We're in a building full of demons."

Grimacing, she ripped a strip off her top and bandaged it. "There. Happy?"

"This way."

"We can't handle this."

Connor glanced across at her, eyes bright. "Really? You can't take half those guys?"

They were crouched on a walkway overlooking the main floor, where at least fifty demons were talking.

"Stop trying to challenge me. We don't even know they're evil."

"Think those are for show?" Connor gestured to a pile of weapons in a corner.

"Was hoping you hadn't seen those. Connor…"

"We can take them." he insisted.

"There's a portal over there." she mused, gesturing to a faintly glowing patch of air. "I wonder if they're…"

"We can take them." Connor repeated.

"We don't know anything about them! What if they can only be killed by silver?"

"We've got silver."

"You're trying to get me killed." Deirbhile muttered, shifting her weight.

The walkway groaned warningly, and they had time for one startled look before it ripped its moorings and fell.

The fall wasn't enough to hurt them, but by the time they'd risen to their feet and climbed out of the mess every demon in the place was watching them…and they must have multiplied, Deirbhile thought, because there were an awful lot more now.

"Connor…" she said slowly, unconsciously moving away from the wreckage, to firmer footing.

"Here." Pulling the dagger free, he tossed it to her.

And then there was no more time for talk, only for fighting.

Connor lost himself in the rhythm of the fight for a time, coming back to himself abruptly when his shoulder hit Deirbhile's; automatically he turned, pressing his back against hers.

"I'm too old for this." Deirbhile sounded oddly breathless. "Shouldn't they be dissolving?"

"You ok?" Connor asked, watching the demons warily.

"No." She slumped against him, and he adjusted to the extra weight without thinking.

"What is it?"

She pushed away without answering, and Connor flipped over the nearest demon and spun so he could watch her as he fought.

She'd been raised in war, as a warrior. He'd known that almost as long as he'd known her. And while her skill was the bow, as with any Elf of her race, she could use any weapon…and the dagger had been forged for her, and only for her.

Connor knew that. He knew it…but he'd never seen her fight, or do anything more violent than raise her voice, and he hadn't expected her to be so…

Efficient.

She'd dropped her glamour and was Thariin now, and even armed with only one dagger instead of the two she'd always used, she was tearing through the demons like paper.

They came together again; only a few demons were left now, hissing sullenly from the sides of the room.

"You want them?" Thariin asked, stripping blood and slime from her dagger. Connor spun after them without bothering to answer her, attention all on his targets now.

So the cry of pain from behind surprised him, distracted him, and for a moment the demons had the upper hand.

It was only a few seconds before he was back in control, but he'd gotten turned around and now he was on the wrong side of the demons to help Thariin. She seemed to have lost the dagger; he could see it on the floor, too far away for either of them to reach with any ease, and was struggling against three…

They weren't demons.

And that made even less sense, really, because there was no way three humans could take her out. And then he felt an odd sense of loss, realized something he never even thought about was missing, and redoubled his efforts to reach her, because the bastards had separated her from the earth's influence totally and she couldn't take that for long…