I'd like to say thanks a ton for all the reviews I've received so far – this FanFic is on a roll and I mean to keep it on that roll!

Apologies for the delay in continuing this story, but I've only just returned to London after covering a conference in Romania, as if I needed a place to channel thoughts of vampires. Great place, nice people, lousy roads, internet connections permanently screwed up or engaged. Now that I'm back I need to sleep for a week.
By the third week Xander had a very good idea how hard it was to train in complete secrecy. Frankly he was amazed that Buffy had been able to do as much as she had over a longer time period. There was the distraction of school, of parents, of friends and of general slayage, or whatever the term was.

But he had made some progress under a carefully woven screen of re- Xanderisation to throw Willow off the scent. Thanks to Giles he now had a good idea of how to meditate and their initial sessions of swordplay had been, to use the Watcher's phrase, most productive.

He had also been able to deepen his knowledge of the force, albeit – he kept finding himself using these damn Giles-like words – at only a slightly faster rate than before. This had been both good and bad. The good point had been the fact that he was increasingly able to sense vampires. Said vamps, being dead, tended to leave a hole in the force where a living being would normally be, plus a freaky feeling caused by the demon within, which the force couldn't classify. Combined, this meant that he could sense where a vampire was, which was always good.

The bad side first appeared in school after a member of the Sunnydale High's champion swimming team had walked by. Xander had felt... something that he couldn't even start to describe, as if a cold animal was walking around with a normal body around it, an animal that was growing as the latter waned, more than a twisting of the natural force in them but a wrenching, a vileness...

He had turned pale, dived into the nearest men's toilets and been violently sick, more from reaction than anything else.

Two nights later Todd McAlvrey, one of the best members of the swim team, died in a particularly horrific way, leaving nothing more than a sloughed off skin. There had to be a connection between the vilness and the death and he'd immediately told Giles, who had tut-tutted a great deal, polished his glasses until they almost had a hole in them and then carefully questioned Xander about exactly what he was feeling from the force when it came to the swimming team.

"Fascinating," he breathed after Xander stopped speaking. "But, but, you have no idea what caused this, this wrong feeling?"

Giving a helpless shrug Xander got up and walked over to the desk. "Most of them have it," he muttered. "Some more strongly than others. Tom Ellison just feels slightly strange, but Cameron Walker – I want to hurl every time he walks past. Something feels very wrong about them, I don't know what."

"Given the ability of some people to dabble in things that they know nothing about, I can think of a, of a few possibilities," mused Giles. "It might be that they have been tainted by a spell, or they might have linked themselves to a demon, sacrificing something to it in return for success, only for that demon to want something back. But why eat their internal organs and skeleton and not the skin and cartilage? I don't recall that the swimming team had anything like the same run of victories last year. I do wish people would think about these things. Magic always comes at a price and it tends to be a steep one, like those fellows at that fraternity found out a few months ago.

"I think we should inform the others of this line of speculation, keeping your sensing abilities out of it, of course. Buffy was at the beach last night when this poor fellow was killed, so she's already looking into it. And given your... nausea around these people, I think that it makes sense to keep you away from them unless we can help it. In the meantime," and here his eyes brightened, "there are a number of books we can consult to find out if there is any kind of demon that exhibits that kind of behaviour." Xander nodded sombrely. They had a long day ahead of them.

A long day of research was not the most fun way to spend your time, reflected Xander as he walked down the hall towards the drinks dispenser late that night. He needed a drink before he went home, Willow having left with Oz, while Buffy talked to Giles about her patrol route that night. The net result of what they had discovered so far could be summarised in one word: nada.

Pausing to stretch until something in his spine went crack, he frowned and looked along the hall. Tentatively he stretched out with the force, only to wince with disgust. Cameron Walker was walking down the hallway towards him and the feeling of wrongness that he was generating in the force almost swamped Xander's head with its vileness.

The swimmer paused as he caught sight of Xander and then sneered. "Something, wrong, Harris? What's a loser like you doing here?"

Xander forced his face to look relaxed and clenched his stomach muscles to stop his gorge from rising.

"Researching in the library, Cameron. Oh yeah, that's right, you wouldn't know what that is. It's the big place with the papery things that have words with more than one syllable written in them," he said, trying to stay flippant.

Cameron scowled and then winced at the pain of the cut on his nose from his earlier attempt to manhandle Buffy. Then he kept walking as he scratched his chest absently. "Why am I talking to a loser like you? You're lucky I'm hungry."

"Cafeteria's closed," said Xander. The vile feeling that Cameron was creating in the force was strengthening, if such a thing was possible.

"Not to me," came the reply as the swimmer moved off.

Xander sighed in relief and then frowned. He still didn't understand just what it was about the swimmers that was making him so nauseous. Perhaps a few questions, on more subtle lines than "which demon have you sold your soul/body/someone else's body/pet cat to" might lead to some answers. Gritting his teeth he walked after Cameron.

As he walked in to the room, Cameron had stopped dead, with his back to Xander, and was sniffing the air. "What the hell is that?" he muttered and then the smell hit Xander's nose as well, a foul, rotten odour that felt... like the vileness in the force that he had been feeling.

He was about to mention something when Cameron suddenly started scratch his chest again, more violently this time. Then he looked down and screamed, a sound of horror and pain and sheer terror. Something was happening to his back, there was a rippling movement under the shirt and suddenly Xander wanted to be sick again, because something was emerging from Cameron, something was pushing through great rents that had appeared in his skin. Something monstrous.

Watching the process of a monster emerging from what had, until a few moments ago been a perfectly normal human being, was rather a shock, especially the sheer unpleasantness of said process. And oddly once that process was over and the half-fish half-god-only-knew thing was standing there in the remains of Cameron's skin, the vile feeling in the force that had been oppressing Xander vanished, as if a conflict between human and animal had been fought and won by the monster and he could only feel the monster.

For a second he wanted to sigh in relief. Then the thing made a horrible roaring noise and Xander realised that he was still in deep trouble.

He still had a handful of change in his hand from the abortive effort to get a drink and now he then threw it straight in its face and ran like hell while it was still making confused roaring noises.

Although running was a good choice and he zipped along two corridors and up one set of stairs, when he realised that the thing seemed to have lost him he quickly slowed down, thinking furiously. On the one hand, there was no icky monster eating the swimming team from the inside out. On the other certain members of the swimming team were the icky monsters due to reasons or persons unknown.

However, two things were clear. First that he had to make sure that no-one was hurt by the thing that was now wandering the corridors of the high school. Not even Snyder deserved that. The second was that Buffy and Giles had to know about this as soon as possible. Xander paused. Up until a while ago he would have reversed those two items. Whatever he was now, and he certainly wasn't even a Padawan, the Jedi Code was more important to him than he had thought. The safety of innocent people was paramount.

He turned, wondering what the hell he was doing, and re-entered the building. As it happened he soon found out that the thing had also left the building, after upending a vending machine, ripping several chairs apart and eating all the fish in the small aquarium in the biology lab. This was probably a good thing, as in Xanders' admittedly somewhat limited experience, hungry monster = dead humans. What was also significant was the fact that it had broken down a door on the side of the school that led to the sea, and had then torn open a manhole cover to the storm drain system, which also led to the great blue Pacific and which presumably was about to get a nasty shock.

Sighing, Xander backed away from the manhole and walked off. He had to find the others.

This was easier said than done. The library, where the Watcher was normally to be found, was dark and empty and the six cemeteries that Xander knew to be on Buffy's patrol route were all quiet and peaceful, although judging by the sad little pile of dust on the grass next to a hole in the ground, it looked like one fledgling vampire had gone out of the vampiring world almost as fast as it had come in. Buffy had obviously moved on.

There was one other place he could try, but as he walked down the road past a series of small buildings that led to the other cemetery on Buffy's patrol path he suddenly realised that he wasn't alone.

Continuing to walk he stretched out with the force, trying to locate the other person out there, trying to get a feel for who was there. Or rather what. Then he realised who it was and the knowledge caused a great wave of hatred and dread to wash over him. He forced it down. Now wasn't a good time to panic. At the same time it wasn't any time to feel the pull of the dark side. Displaying a calm that he forced himself to feel, he stopped dead next to a streetlight and looked back into the darkness of the other side of the street.

"Angelus," he said coldly. "Out for some fast food?"

There was a surprised chuckle from the shadows and the vampire strolled out. "Not bad, Harris," he murmured and then took out a pack of cigarettes. "You've been practicing the few skills you have."

"Oh, you'd be surprised at the things I've picked up lately," replied Xander, still forcing that artificial calm over himself. Now was the time... but the force remained just out of reach, blocked by the fear he was feeling despite himself. Not fear, anything but that. Fear led to anger and anger led to the dark side, although Master Yoda had never had to deal with a vampire. Keep him talking, he thought, keep him talking and keep trying for the light side of the force. You can do this, just relax and let it go...

"Speaking of which," he extemporised, "Have you seen a large fish-like demon around the place? It's just that the swimming team appears to be turning into monsters, creating some new inhabitants of Sunnydale that even you should be scared of."

Angelus shook his head and then lit up a cigarette. "Demons - seen one, seen 'em all. Even if there's something around here then there's nothing for me to be bothered about. You, I imagine," and he smiled mockingly and blew out the smoke, "Would have a problem however. Might be fun to watch, though, for the five seconds that it would take to rip your head off."

The amount of arrogant superiority that the vampire was putting out was astonishing but to his own surprise Xander didn't feel the anger that he might have. Oh, it was there, in the back of his head, but the more that he pushed the fear away, the clearer everything became. He tried to use the force again, but failed by a hairs' breadth. I can do this, he thought, letting the almost glacial calm settle over him, bringing him closer and closer to the force, I can access the light side of the force here, my life is in real danger, but I can do this. This is a chance to beat the dark side...

Angelus also seemed to sense that things were not going as he had planned, due to the apparent lack of fear, panic and hesitation in Harris. He strolled a few paces closer.

"No," said the vampire, "Instead of letting some monster chomp on your entrails, I'm going to use you to send a message to darling Buffy," he smirked.

"What's the message?"

"Why that was a really dumb question, your messily dead body will be the message of course. I'm going to send the Slayer some little presents in the form of the dead bodies of all her friends, as a token of my undying love." Angelus grinned again and then put his game face on. "Starting with the weakest, the... what's the word? The Zeppo, that's it, the useless little hanger on."

Xander tried again and this time, still enveloped in the calmness that had allowed him to push away the fear and anger that led to the dark side, he was able to reach out and touch the force. He then allowed himself to smile for the first time.

"I'm not the easy meal you think I am," he said with what he knew was his Obi-Wan voice.

"Oh come on!" exclaimed Angelus as he flipped his half-smoked cigarette away in a trail of sparks that Xander did not allow himself to be distracted by. "What can you possibly do, Harris? No slayer around to hide behind, no watcher to give you pompous advice, although you do sound more and more like the old Brit. No," and he smiled again. "I get to play with you. You get to die."

Xander fixed the vampire with a steady gaze, but his mind was firmly fixed on a three-foot long steel rod that had been welded sloppily onto a railing behind the vampire. He felt the way that the rod existed in the world, the way that the force surrounded it and gave an experimental tug with his mind. The rod moved slightly and he tried again, making it move a bit more as the crude weld started to fail. This was the largest thing that he had ever moved using the force so far and the strain was immense as he felt the sweat start to stand out on his face.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said out loud, to cover the noise that the rod was making. "Oh, dear," mocked the vampire before him. "Is that a sad little lie I hear from the sweaty little guy in front of me?"

"Not really, no," replied Xander and at that moment the rod separated from the railing with a loud crack and hurtled towards Angelus. The vampire heard the noise and was half-turning to look, but couldn't move fast enough to stop it from going right through his chest and half-way out of his back, leaving him impaled.

Angelus gave a choked cry of anger and pain and it was then that Xander drew on the force more deeply than he had done in the past, using it all in a force leap straight up more than 15 feet, to land on the top of the streetlight next to him and then jumping for the safety of the roof of a nearby building. It was close, he almost missed the lip of the parapet around the roof, but he was there and he immediately forced his body to remain motionless to escape any movement that might get caught by the vampire's acute peripheral vision. As long he stayed completely still...

Down on the street Angelus had just pulled the rod out of his chest and was cursing and snarling, his shirt covered in blood and his face drawn in anguish.

"I'm going to pull your lungs out and make you eat them, slayer!" he screamed and Xander realised that the vampire thought that he had been ambushed by Buffy.

Angelus threw down the rod and looked around wrathfully, but the street was silent. No Buffy. No Harris for that matter, and Angelus couldn't remember the pathetic human running. Confused he span around again, using his vision, smell and hearing to try to locate him. Xander forced his breathing down still further, remaining in the grip of the force, relaxing almost into meditation. Slow, even breaths, he thought, marvelling at how the fear and anger had now totally disappeared in his first real victory against the dark side, idly noticing that the wind was luckily blowing in his favour.

Still snarling, Angelus stalked up and down the street for what to Xander seemed forever, looking in every direction but up, before finally, reluctantly, moving off, now clutching his chest, where the blood was still trickling from the gaping wound. "This isn't over, Zeppo! Man, you hide well. That all you're good for now, hiding, you little prick? And wherever you came from, Buffy baby, you know that there's going to be payback for this!" Then he cursed again and walked off.

Xander resisted the temptation to let out a sigh of relief, but instead remained where he was until the vampire vanished up the street and then waited another ten minutes just to be sure. Then he relaxed, releasing the force and almost collapsing from sheer reaction as his heart decided to race like mad to pump the adrenalin that his body belatedly decided was necessary. Trembling in every limb he sat down and ran his hands through his hair. Not bad. He'd faced off Deadboy. Shame the rod had been metal instead of wood, but he had been amazed that his aim had been good enough to hit the vampire at all.

Well, it was a good start. He was even more amazed that he had been able to use the force as well as he had. Sighing, he straightened up. Then he looked down. The ground was a good 20 feet away.

"Oh nuts," he muttered. "Outsmarted myself again."