Author's note: Starting to sound like a broken record here- Sorry for the lateness. I was busy...writing except it wasn't fanfiction. It was essays for school; we read this novel (pretty awesome but everything just happens to come together conveniently for the main cha.) and have to write our thoughts....ahhh don't want to bore you with school. Anyway, here's chapter 4. Enjoy.

"There's only me." Buffy Summers, Selfless

CHAPTER 4: SET FOR COLLISION

FROM: redwiccayahoo .com

TO: watcherrgmsn .com

SUBJECT: Evil afoot?

Hey Giles,

It's official. The SWoD was stolen from London. I finally found something on the scroll and it's all bad. We should have sent Faith earlier to retrieve it. Giles, this is really worrying me. If the it/he/she knows how to use it (most likely), we'll have our toughest fight yet--tougher than the First's army.

There's still the Buffy matter. It's like she vanished from the face of the earth. She's really good at that...

Should we still send Faith to London?

FROM: watcherrgmsn .com

TO: redwiccayahoo .com

Dear Willow,

I too have found something on the scroll and it is a cause for worry. However, there's no need to let the Slayers have knowledge...yet.

We are not sending Faith to London but Rome. Rumors placed the scroll was taken to this country. From there, Faith will try and trace the scroll. Hopefully she will, and then we can tread easily.

About Buffy...we'll figure out what to do.

Sincerely,

Rupert Giles

"C'mon! You could at least fight back," Joan, noticeably experiencing high of the hunt, intimidated. She inserted a sword on a sheath tied on her back then walked towards her fallen prey: vampire. Its body has a variety of stab wounds scattered about, blotching the undead outfit with thick dry red stains that they hunger for. Its lips moved but only incoherent babbling sounded out with a blood bubbles.

The stab wounds were caused by Joan's new sword, her payment (accompanied with a huge sum of money) for swiping the scroll. Like her mysterious client had said, the weapon is "fancy". Not only is its blade masterfully shaped, there seems to be some hidden power residing inside the forged masterpiece. She couldn't figure what this power is, which is why she's facing off the common undead: to test the sword. With any luck, she might accidentally tap into this power and remember how exactly it goes.

"Bitch!!!" snarled the vampire while grasping for something on the inside pocket of his bloodstained jacket. With a roar, the grasping hand swung in an agile arc along with a knife that blurred with the motion. Caught off guard, Joan suffered the damage. Joan let out a brief cry of pain as the knife slashed across her midriff, drawing a lengthy hair-thin line. A slow waterfall of red substance started spilling from the wound, ruining her white blouse. Carelessness had taken its toll. Assuming the vampire possessed no weapon-just because it hadn't use any earlier- was unwise.

Another slash came from the vampire. This time, Joan grasped the offending wrist and clenched hard causing the vampire to cry out in turn. Her hand tightened to bone-crushing pressure. Pain made it too much of a burden for the fiend's hand to hold the knife. The gleaming blade fell with a thud on the grassy ground. Joan raised the vampire up and executed a spin-kick to the stomach causing the vamp to stagger back. With a few feet distance between them, Joan withdraws the sword from its sheath. Pointing at the fiend, she scowled: "Let's see how you like it."

Unsure about what to do, the vampire lurched forward to her. He delivered a wide swing with his undamaged hand but struck empty space. Joan had effectively dodged with a duck, leaving her in a favorable position to use her sword. Opportunity was taken advantage of as she slashed horizontally catching his stomach. Painful growls sounded out from the vampire but Joan wasn't paying attention. Slashing the vampire aroused the sword; it blazed aglow with red-yellow energy, glowing brightly. She could feel the shining energy envelope her, bringing along the caressing arms of warmth and pleasure that caused her to close her eyes. Few seconds passed before the magickal moment quickly ended. Opening her eyes, she saw a dumbstruck vampire and a dormant sword that lie on her palm. Another thing she noticed was the pain in her abs was gone. Her eyes immediately set upon her belly; there was neither cut nor blood. Her hands smoothed over it to and fro, checking to see if it is real or if she had already lost a vast amount of blood that she's suffering from hallucination. It was real. The blade healed her wound!

Shaking out of dumbstruck state, the vampire headed for the hills, knowing fully that Joan's sword washed away his advantage along with her wounds. Joan isn't going to let this one slide. He had almost killed her and that's something she just won't slip away. She prepared to chase after the vampire but stopped. A thought circled on her mind out of the blue--but it wasn't hers. How could that be possible? Is she having an aspect of the demon again? Was the antidote that Angel fed her temporary? No--Giles would have told her if it wasn't. This is different. Joan could tell that the thought wasn't hers because simply it didn't sound like her. The thought was a sweet, melodious feminine voice. It whispered to her to tap on the power inside of her and use the sword. Tap inside...her slayer powers? How can she use the sword when the vampire is running away?

Her runaway vampire's size is quickly morphing into a fly as it increases the distance from her.

Before she could form another thought, she obeyed the lulling voice. Her arms raised, she slashed the air in-line with the vampire. As the enchanted steel cut the air, she felt the sword awaken, glowing dark green. The swords' tip drew a thin strip of purple energy, like a pen marking paper. Crescent-shape strip of energy brightened and propelled forwards with blazing speed as the sword finished its arc of path. Distance between the vampire and the crescent energy quickly bridged within seconds. The energy went through the fiend's neck and dissipated into thin air, sparing harm to those undeserving of the wielder and owner's wrath.

Joan, wide-eyed with awe, watched as the vampire crumbled into dust; she couldn't believe it. The sword had healed her wound--a fatal one if left untreated for a range of time-- and killed a vampire from feet apart with an energy moon-shaped thingy. Joan held the blade in front of her; its glistening blade showed her eyeing it with wonder. Her lips curved into a grin and she said:

"That was cool!"

"Yeah Giles, I'm here in Rome," the gorgeous, slender woman voiced in her cell phone. Her eyes were partly veiled by the bangs of her wavy hair. "What do I do now?"

"Good. Now all you have to do is locate the scroll," supplied the Watcher on the other end. "While we don't know where the scroll--"

"Lost and Found missions aren't my thing Giles," interrupted the woman. Her voice was soft but barely leashed. Looking for this and that was something she never liked. Taking the things she want, having them-- that she likes. Looking for things requires time and patience, which is short in supply in her fuse. "I only agreed to do this stupid thing because I thought you KNEW where it is."

"Yes, well, that's true. We don't have the exact location but we do know who stole it. Willow did some 'poking around', as she called it, and found who stole the scroll." The Watcher took sometime to compose himself but not too much. He's very well aware of the impatience the woman at the other end possesses. "Joan Moonstrom. She is an upstart mercenary living there in Rome. Find--"

"Her, Find the scroll. What's the address?" the woman asked. After having been given the address, the raven-haired woman said her thanks and hanged-up. Pocketing the cell phone, the woman set out to find Joan.

"Finally, " a man began. In between his hands, the Sweet Whisper of Death lay bare. His eyes absorbing all the mystical knowledge it spells. Luck is finally standing by his side. He couldn't believe that the scroll that his hands are holding is still intact. In fact, it was in perfect condition. "Something that would allow us to muster a powerful force to protect us when we attempt to rescue the Princess."

"Yes, finally," spoken by another man. Clearly, he is a subordinate to the man by the way his eyes stare the floor down. "Does this mean that we can finally carry on our plans?" he asked, eyes still scanning the floor.

"Yes. I've already given the sword to someone. Joan Moonstrom," he said matter of fact.

"Her? She cannot be possibly be worthy of the sword! Besides, she is a Slayer!" cried the other man.

"Which makes her the perfect choice," countered the man. "In order for the sword to awaken, a very dark force is required. A Slayer's power, though used for good, is rooted in the dark." He turned around to face the subordinate.

"She is still a Slayer!"

"I wouldn't worry about that particular matter. I saw it in her eyes."

"Saw what?"

"Nothing. Absolute emptiness. I didn't see that familiar burning passion that every dutiful slayer possesses. In fact, I would even bet that she doesn't care about what happens to this world as long as it keeps on spinning." His lips formed a grin as he recalled her eyes. The vacuum of emotion on those hazel eyes was the most fascinating thing he ever saw. He didn't think that a human, even a Slayer, could reach such a state. He always believed that being void of emotion and feelings is the only way to be truly strong mentally. For a moment, he wondered what caused her to be in such a state. "She's perfect for the sword. Besides, she was chosen by the Princess herself."

"The Princess has communicated with you?"

"Yes. It was brief."

"What else did she say?"

His smirk had widened with the question. "She said that now that we can finally proceed to rescue Her," he said as he walked towards the nosey subordinate. The subordinate's stare left the floor to fix on him. His hand came down upon the follower's shoulders, resting--for a moment. Then his hand lit ablaze in a flash and fire started spreading quickly from the follower's shoulders. Hungry blazes consumed his flesh and in a matter of seconds, the subordinate was reduced to charcoal. "We have no need for you."

Really, sorry about the lack of update. Rest assured, I am alive and this story will always be eventually updated. Happy Holidays! Keep the reviews coming! They're great.