The blonde man, once again clothed in his smoky guise, watched patiently as Buffy and Faith strode confidently through the door of her house and out onto the porch. Xander rushed out behind them, jumping in his car and peeling away across several lawns. The blonde man took no notice.
"Two of them master two of them and both together this is not good and URK!"
A solid fist connected with Recks' furry head, flipping him over in mid-air.
"I am aware of the second one's presence, you dolt. Fortunately, she is here and not out back with the vampire and the Key. She is of no consequence. My Slayer hates her bitterly. Are our other forces in position?"
"Yes waiting your orders they are my lord."
"Tell them to attack as soon as they clear the house," he ordered, watching Buffy and Faith engage his forces.
Recks nodded his assent and focused his mind to the task.
Spike led Dobby and Dawn through the kitchen and out the back door.
"So Ears, you think you can get us to the moron's place with magic? That should be safe for now."
Dobby looked at his feet with shame and shook his head. "No, Mister Spike. Even if Dobby has been there Dobby would have trouble moving himself, Mister Spike and his bit, sir. I'se sorry, sir."
"S'alright. Didn't think it'd be so easy, anyway. C'mon, then," he waved at the garage, "we'll take yer mum's Jeep, nibblet."
"How are we gonna do that? The street's on fire."
"Oh. Damn."
Even as Spike sifted through their other alternatives, he heard a half-dozen heartbeats come into focus around them and caught a pungent whiff of the unwashed men.
"Dobby! Lights! Now!"
Dobby snapped his fingers; a shaft of dazzling white light sprung up from the ground and illuminated the yard. Stunned by the sudden change, the waiting cultists frantically gripped their faces to block out the flash.
Braced for the explosion, Spike and Dawn jumped into action while their opponents were still stunned. Dawn kicked the first groin she saw, hitting it with a fully-extended leg. The man crumpled over, wailing in agony.
Spike punched one in the face, breaking the man's nose and setting off a searing pain in his head.
"Aah! Bloody hell!" He fell to the ground, one hand gripping his forehead. After all the time at Hogwarts, he had forgotten that the chip would work again in the real world.
As his knees touched the ground, Dobby finished an incantation. Ropes erupted in midair, flailing about like an enormous octopus as they coiled around any solid object within reach. He tugged on Dawn's leg just as she fired another elbow at an assailant.
"Spike's bit must grab Mister Spike and get in the house before the ropes get us!"
She looked at him, uncomprehending, until one tendril snaked out and wrapped itself around Spike's left hand. At that point, she decided they had enjoyed the outdoors enough for one night.
"Come on!" She grabbed Dobby and dragged him over to Spike, who had morphed into his game face and ripped the rope apart with his fangs. With Dawn's help, he clambered to his feet and the three of them raced to the safety of the kitchen, where they watched intently as the ropes bound the struggling cultists in a giant ball of yarn.
Buffy reached back and grabbed the man from their front hall, hurling him one-handed to the center of her front lawn. She and Faith casually strolled out after him. They wore similar expressions of boredom.
"Only five each?" Buffy asked, feigning disappointment
"I've done way more than five at once. I was hoping for some real fun."
"And I never, ever want details of that." Their assailants stopped, ringing the two Slayers in a semi-circle. "So, who's the boss? Which one of you is Angela, huh?"
"Lame, B," Faith muttered.
"You try quipping every night for eight years. It's not easy to go dud-free." To the group, she asked again, "Well? Who?"
From behind the line of robed figures, the blonde man stepped forward, wearing the same face he had at the Bronze. Buffy felt her insides start to melt. A wave of longing passed over her just as it had at the club a month before.
"That would be me," he purred.
Faith frowned as she saw Buffy's eyes turn glassy. "And you are?"
He turned ice blue eyes on her. "That is none of your concern. It is between myself and the Slayer."
"Funny thing," she said, cocking her head. "I'm a Slayer, too. So I think you can tell me, pal."
"Oh no," he said, dismissing her with a toss of his head, "I don't believe that's so. Kill her." He beckoned Buffy closer. "Come here, my dear."
The robed figures leaped into action even as Buffy glided forward to the man. Sensing something seriously amiss, Faith grabbed the nearest robe and tossed it across the yard. She couldn't hear the bones break, but had no doubt that they did. More white robes swarmed around her. Stray sounds were drowned out by the men shouting. She elbowed a jaw and jabbed a nose, not bothering to try and keep track of her opponents.
Even for a Slayer, ten fully grown men was a lot to take on at once. Never lacking confidence, Faith nonetheless felt a pang of apprehension as a fist connected with her back and another hit her hip. Using short punches and liberally applying her elbows and knees, she managed to beat them back for a few brief seconds, then for a minute, and then two. She knew, though, as she watched cultists she had flung aside rise again and charge, that she couldn't hold out much longer.
Away from the fighting, Buffy made her way to the blonde man, feelings of awe and desire coursing through her unbidden.
"Wh-who are you?"
A pale hand caressed her cheek, searing her where flesh met flesh.
"It matters not beyond one thing," he said with the same seductive voice. "Though I very much despise clichés, I would be remiss in not telling you that I am your destiny."
"Okay," she mumbled, "destiny's good." She closed her eyes and moaned as he ran the back of his hand across her jaw.
"You will be with me. Joined. Would you like that, my Slayer?"
"Ohhhhh…"
He ran his hands up Buffy's arms and over her shoulders, caressing the skin showing at the edge of her baby blue halter top. Buffy never wanted it to stop. Everything else fell away except for the feel of his skin on hers.
A forearm wrapped around Faith's neck, closing off her windpipe in a vise grip. She reached up and grabbed the man's wrist. The forearm drooped under the pressure of Slayer strength and she violently hurled the arm and the man away from her. Using her newfound freedom to full advantage, she lashed out in several directions at once. Her foot caught a temple; her fist smashed an eye socket. Her forehead flattened a nose.
The cultists warily backed off, realizing that even a single Slayer required careful strategy or the rest of them would be beaten into the ground.
Faith took advantage of the slight pause to glance at Buffy. The blonde Slayer was rising on her toes to kiss the blonde man.
"Oh, hell no," Faith shouted. Instinctively she knew not to let the two of them share a kiss. "B, quit with the googly eyes! We have to get Dawn outta here safe!"
Buffy looked up in wonder. "Dawn?" Images of her sister started to leak into her consciousness. She froze, torn between the thoughts of Dawn and the feeling of his hands.
The blonde man leaned in, intent on capturing her with a kiss. Buffy didn't respond, but she didn't move either. Another second and they would be kissing.
At that moment, Faith's patience reached its meager limit. She flexed her knees and launched into a full-body tackle, taking a cultist with her when she slammed into Buffy's mid-section. All three of them went tumbling to the ground.
"IMPRESSIO!"
The two voices erupted from somewhere in the darkness. Faith felt wind rip across her back. When she looked up, she saw that everyone but the blonde man had been thrown back to the edge of the burning street.
The Weasley brothers stepped onto the lawn, their raised wands backlit by the flames.
"Why don't you lot take a seat?" Fred said, his voice laced with menace.
"Right then, that's good there," George added, flicking his wand at a cultist who had begun to rise.
In the distance, sirens began to sound.
"Sunnydale's finest on the case," Faith said. She glanced at Buffy. The other girl was blinking like she had just been woken from a sound sleep.
The blonde man glanced around. Anya and Xander had come up behind the two wizards, each holding a sword pulled from Xander's trunk. Spike and Dobby filled the front step, the vampire in game face, the house elf with magic crackling at his fists. Behind them Dawn craned to see the scene. She had a crossbow propped on her left arm.
None of them scared the blonde man, not even the Slayers at his feet. He decided that one more push would accomplish his purpose before the police could interfere.
"Know this: the Key will be mine. As long as she remains here, I will have her. And you, Slayer," he said, casting a blue eye on Buffy, "I will have you as well. As I know you desire. Until then, adieu."
He bowed with a flourish. Then he and the cultists vanished into thin air.
Buffy slumped against the stairwell, her mind feeling slightly numb. Xander had draped a blanket across her shoulders. He and Anya were out dealing with the police. Spike, Dobby, Faith, Dawn, and the Weasleys had arranged themselves in the living room. They made animated small talk, trying and failing not to stare at Buffy as they did.
Spike, never one for small talk, unfurled himself from the couch and stalked over to her. He leaned his head over the railing.
"You okay, pet? You look a bit peaked."
She shook her head.
"He had the mind mojo on you. Don't worry about it. That stuff's not easy."
"I know," she said softly, feeling ashamed. "That's twice now."
"Izzat what's really buggin' you?"
She looked up at him with huge eyes. She felt unbearably weak, like her insides had turned to runny Jell-o. "He's after Dawn, and I can't do anything against him. Before, I thought … well, that maybe he wasn't all bad, y'know? But those guys … that attack … if he comes for her, what am I gonna do," she added ruefully, "lick him to death?"
"They're bad news," Spike agreed. "Bloody amateurs, a'course, but by bloody I mean just that. Those robes weren't grimy with Kool-aid."
"You could smell it?"
He nodded and lowered his voice. "Some of it was virgin's blood. Smells different. I'll tell ya something else, too – he ain't human. He smelled like they did, but it was from bein' around them. He had no smell of his own."
Her eyes squinted. Spike could feel her resolve stiffening. "What does that mean?"
Spike shrugged. "Dunno. S'not good, but I'm no Watcher."
"Giles might know."
"He might," Faith said from the couch. The others were listening to Buffy and Spike. "Wesley might, too. We need to know, B. We can't kack it otherwise, even if his Jedi mind trick doesn't work on me. He seemed wicked tough, y'know?"
"Yeah, he did. Nice tackle, by the way. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"What about me?" Dawn asked with a shiver. "If that creepy guy is after me…"
"You could stash her at Hogwarts," Fred suggested. "I don't care how bad a man he is, he wouldn't last five minutes with Dumbledore lightin' him up."
"We could ask Professor Giles about him when we got there, too," George said.
"Would they take her in?" Buffy asked, not liking the idea of sending Dawn to England. On the other hand, she obviously couldn't protect her sister on her own.
"Dumbledore'll take anybody in. S'why he's the best headmaster ever. We could put her at the Burrow, too, if for some reason he's gone nutters and says no."
"Mum'd love the company," Fred agreed.
"The Burrow?"
"Our home. Outside of Ottery St. Catchpole," he said to Spike, who nodded. "She'd be safe there with our mum."
"England?" Dawn said skeptically.
"Got a better plan, nibblet? 'Sides, with the floo thing, it's no different than being next door at the neighbors."
She stared at Spike for a long minute, then looked at Buffy. Her sister had the Buffy version of Willow's resolve face on, and nodded. At least, she knew, Dawn would be safe until they could find some way to defeat this latest Big Bad.
Dawn turned to Fred. "Okay. I guess I go to England."
Recks teetered invisibly on the porch of the Summers home, peering in through the window as Fred stepped into the fireplace with Xander and Dawn. The explosion of green flame illuminated the living room.
The blonde man, watching through his servant's eyes, let out a triumphant howl. Recks heard his jubilant voice across their telepathic link.
Now it begins.
