Originally I was going to write out the whole of this thing in one episode to cover the both episodes of "Becoming". Then reality kicked in and I decided to cut the damn thing in half and post each bit up after I finished writing it. So that's the plan. Many, many thanks to everyone who has reviewed this thing so far, your comments really have encouraged me to keep this thing on the boil. Anyway, here is the first part. I hope that you like it and I also hope that I can keep up the good work!


"Xander, could you possibly a little less cryptic and a little more specific?"

Scrubbing at his eyes tiredly, Xander turned and shrugged helplessly at the Watcher.

"Giles, this thing isn't easy to put into words. It's like trying to describe what sound yellow makes or what a smile smells like. Trying to describe the force is hard enough – describing the feeling I had half an hour ago is almost impossible."

"Then try again, please, a little more... slowly this time."

"I felt a disturbance in the force. A big one. It felt... like a backwash, only it was coming from in front of me."

"Sort of like a wave, perhaps?" asked Giles, his brow creased and his arms folded.

Xander paused and made a tumbling motion with his hands. "Yeah, but a wave that came from one direction. It felt like... something bad is coming. Very bad. I'm not sure when – I've never had this feeling before. But soon."

Taking his glasses off, Giles stared down at the floor. "So something bad is coming, but you don't know what and you don't know when. Just that it is bad."

"That pretty much covers it," admitted Xander sheepishly.

"Yes, well, any advanced warning is welcome, but an unpleasant aspect of living on the Hellmouth is that we get so many 'bad' things occurring that they tend to be ten a penny." He put his glasses back on. "Although perhaps it ties in with my trip to the museum this morning. They have indeed discovered an artifact, quite, quite a fascinating one as well in my opinion. An enormous container of some sort with markings on the outside in a language that might be an archaic form of Phoenician. I think there's something inside it. Frankly, just, just looking at it gave me the creeping horrors," he admitted.

"There were several heavily encrusted characters on the front as well, which might have been the beginning of a name. If I'm right, and I... pray that I'm wrong, a rather ominous name."

The young pseudo-Jedi stared at him. "Giles, when you mention words like 'ominous' and 'creeping horrors' you do realise that most other people would be jumping out of windows and running for the nearest airport, don't you?"

He received a rather wintry smile in response. "That's another aspect of the Hellmouth, Xander. You develop a rather different set of priorities."

He looked at his watch. "I believe you have an exam in a quarter of a hour. Don't worry, I'll, I'll keep you informed if there are any further developments."

Xander nodded and picked up his bag. "You do that, Giles." Then he turned back for a moment. "Is Buffy alright?"

Surprised, the watcher looked up at him. "Yes, yes I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"I've been getting a weird vibe off her for the past day or so. Like... she's two people."

Buffy let off a big honking signal in the force, as if several people were combined within one body. One of the better descriptions that he'd been able to give Giles was that ordinary people glowed like light bulbs in the force. In contrast Buffy glowed like one of those arc-lights that baseball fields used to light the pitch with at night and for some reason over the past day that glow had increased in brightness while feeling fuzzy at the same time.

Raising both eyebrows Giles looked him. "She seems to be alright. I'll check, just to be on the safe side though."

Hefting his bag to his shoulder Xander turned and walked off to that most joyous of things, a maths exam. I'd rather be staking vamps, he thought morosely.


By the time that the evening arrived Xander was in the middle of a severe case of the confusing force senses. He now definitely seemed to be picking up two Buffy-sized blips in the force that were now giving him a headache. And much as he tried he couldn't shake the feeling that the second blip was slightly different. It had to be another skanky Hellmouth-induced effect, he thought darkly and then paused. Too late. He'd been thinking about Buffy too much and had forgotten to look out for Snyder, who approaching from behind at a great rate of knots.

Sighing he turned at the same time that the little man opened his mouth to bark his name. The principal seemed peeved. This was normal. He was also clutching a clipboard. This was not normal.

"Harris," grated Snyder, "I've been looking at your grades again. They seem to have gone through the roof. I'm an intelligent man, Harris, I recognise a deadbeat when I see one and I'm looking at one right now. And while I work for the Californian department of education and have great faith in its ability to educate people to fulfill the sad and fruitless lives that they'll lead when they graduate, I refuse to believe that after years of failure the teachers have suddenly succeeded in pouring knowledge into that skull of yours.

"I think that you're cheating Harris, I can't prove it, but I know it. So for the rest of your exams you'll be away from your friends, away from anyone else come to that, and a microscopically close eye will be turned on your work. Because when we find you cheating I personally intend to throw you out of this place myself."

Having delivered this little speech, the principal glared at Xander, glared even harder at the clipboard and then stomped off down the corridor.

"The dark side is strong in that one," quipped Xander and walked off. Then he stopped and shuddered. What a horrible thought.

He ambled off down the corridor and turned into the hallway that led to the library, stretching out with the force to get a quick reading on that odd sensation. To his surprise he realised that the two Buffy-blips were starting to come together and he shook his head at this further proof that he had a lot to learn about the use of the force.

As he entered the room Oz and Willow were sitting at the table in the library, with the latter looking at a piece of paper that held the re- souling spell. Xander winced. His initial Jedi-sense that restoring Angel's soul was the right thing to do was still clashing with his Xander-sense that the only thing Deadboy was good for was to turn into grit to use on ice-covered sidewalks in Maine. So far he was just about keeping the latter in check.

"Hey guys," he said, putting his bag down and slumping in one of the chairs. "How'd you do with the exam marathon?"

Inevitably Willow burbled about how badly she'd done. Willow always burbled this during exam season and then always came at or near the top percentage of whatever subject she was being tested on, Xander thought fondly. Although she was now burbling with a lot more self-confidence, as the result of her romance with the redheaded werewolf sitting next to her.

Oz, reflected Xander, had been very good for her and was also a valuable member of the Scoobies. He was quiet, admittedly, but humorous and was perfectly willing to be locked up in a cell for three nights in the month to make sure that he didn't hurt anyone when he was in his hairy state. That took courage, although Xander still had no idea how to quantify the odd vibe that Oz kept emitting in the force. He had finally decided to file it under 'Miscellaneous werewolf/human force-wiggy sensation' and leave it at that.

There was a thump and a muttered curse as Giles appeared from the bookshelves with a pile of books in his hands, one of which had fallen to the floor. Xander toyed with the idea of picking it up with the force whilst Willow and Oz were looking in the wrong direction, but then the doors swung open and Cordelia came in, complaining bitterly about the very concept of exams. Since she had been doing this to anyone unfortunate to get pulled into her ranting orbit for the past two weeks, Xander ignored her and walked up the stairs to retrieve the book whilst Giles patiently explained to the cheerleader that there was no 'big book of everything' that she could use to revise from, apart from an excellent set of volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica which would take Cordelia several years to read through. Which was a shame, because Xander suspected that under the façade of the brainless cheerleader there was quite an intelligent and brave woman struggling to get out. It was freaky what the force sometimes revealed.

Stooping he picked up the book and then suddenly straightened. The double Buffy-blip was approaching the library and the closer it got, the more the second blip was becoming clearer...

Xander swore under his breath. It was Kendra! That was why the feeling was so strong, he was picking up the other Slayer! Then he remembered what had happened the last time the Jamaican Slayer had been in town and blanched slightly. As the doors of the library swung open and the two Slayers entered, he hurried down the stairs. Two Slayers = double trouble in his book.


Giles was very pale when he walked back from the telephone in his office and slowly replaced his glasses. "That was the museum," he said quietly. "The curator has been found dead and the artifact has been stolen, by person or persons unknown. Although," and he nodded to the sombre-looking Jamaican Slayer, "Based on the information provided by Kendra's Watcher, we can be in no doubt that what is inside is definitely Acathla."

"And Acattylala is?" prompted Buffy.

Giles leant against the counter and then steepled his fingers together. "Acathla was a demon brought forth to end the world," he said grimly. "His particular... gift was that by opening his mouth and drawing breath, he could suck Earth into hell. One of the hells, ac-actually, none of which are very pleasant. Fortunately, before he could draw that breath, a, a knight, a champion if you will, pierced his heart with a sword, killing him.

"If however, the sword is removed, then Acathla's body will continue the last action that it was making before it died. Acathla will draw breath and the Earth will be sucked into hell."

Buffy sighed. "Why is it always hell?" she complained. "Don't these guys have any imagination?"

"An end to the light," said a voice and she looked up, surprised, at Xander, who was standing with his arms crossed and a very serious expression on his face. "I guess that for a demon the world is too full of light to be allowed to exist. Too much happiness. Too much joy."

This was such an un-Xanderish sentiment that Buffy rocked on her heels slightly and blinked. "Wow, Xander, portentous or what? You taking Swedish lessons or something?"

He looked up and smiled slightly. "Life on the Hellmouth tends to lead to serious topics from even non-serious people," he quipped, but there was an odd edge to his tone that Giles also seemed to be picking up on, because he hurriedly cleared his throat.

"I think that we need to act on the very real assumption that Angelus has Acathla and is making plans to activate him. Until we have more information we need to act with great caution. Buffy, I want you and Kendra to patrol with great care tonight. Don't use the normal route and don't stay out late. The rest of us..." he was about to continue, but the others interrupted him by chorusing: "Will hit the books for information."

He glared at them before turning to Willow. "Apart from you, Willow. I want you to concentrate on the re-souling spell. If Angelus is intent on plunging the world into hell, one way to stop him would be to restore his soul and bring Angel back."


The pen tapped once on the surface of the desk before, with a sigh, Xander put it down and leafed slowly through the pages of the answer booklet in front of him. He had answered all of the history exam questions. In full. In small handwriting, too. Which was disturbing. All this information had come out of his head with only minimal prompting, about everything between the Civil War and the Second World War. He'd even been able to correct one of the questions by pointing out that for Europe the war had started in 1939 and that 1941 was merely the date when the US of A had consented to join the party.

And the exam still had another 30 minutes to go.

The previous night had been something of a bust. They had a lot of data about Acathla, but without better information about where the demon was exactly in the factory complex and what Angelus intended to do with him, they couldn't exactly create a master plan.

Picking up the pen again he looked around. On the specific orders of that little homunculus Snyder he was seated well away from everybody else, so that any cheating could be spotted. Mr Robson had even been dragged away from his beloved biology specimens to watch him and now the old teacher was frowning at Xander. Walking over he whispered: "Have you finished already, Xander?"

He flipped through the pages of answers and shrugged. "I guess I have."

Robson looked down and flipped through the pages himself, his eyebrows rising. Clearing his throat, he looked down and smiled. "I guess you have as well. Okay, mosey on out of here quietly. I'll seal this thing up and submit it."

Nodding gratefully to the teacher Xander gathered up his things and slipped out on noiseless feet. Then he reached for the force and waited for a second... aha, Snyder was on the other side of the building so he had a clear path to the library. Yuck, he even left a bitter trail in the force. Was the man devoid of all the finer feelings in life?

Then he frowned. Looking about wildly he walked quickly to a corridor junction and then stared down it. There was a vampire in the building, he could feel it. But it was broad daylight out there, what vampire would even risk it? Damn it, in his surprise he'd lost touch with the force.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, scowling slightly. Back in touch, ok, there's the vampire.... Over there. Oh crap. He could feel Buffy clearly, and that ol' vamp was heading straight towards her.

He strode down the hallway, ducked briefly into a supply locker to dodge Snyder, who seemed to be everywhere today, and arrived outside Buffy's classroom just in time to see it burst into flames after delivering its message. He sighed. This was turning into a very bad day.


It had to be a trap. It wasn't just labeled 'trap', it had damn great arrows lined with red neon lights that spelt out 'trap' in ten-foot high letters. Angelus was up to something, fumed Xander as he entered the library.

Unfortunately, as Buffy pointed out, they were in a Catch-22 situation. If she didn't go, then some poor innocent person might die. If she did, then Angelus might take his frustrations out on her, but at least she'd be able to take her chances. In the meantime, there was always the possibility that the re-souling spell for Angel might work, in which case they'd be up one on Spike and Drusilla.

Xander still didn't like the odds though and he vociferously pointed this out until a frowning Buffy cut him off with a loud "Enough! We so don't have time to second-guess each other here. I have to go, Xander. You, Kendra, Giles and Oz have to stay here to protect Willow. Cordy, please help her as well. Willow, get Angel back before Angelus sends us all to hell."

Kendra raised an eyebrow and then nodded reluctantly, before reaching into her jacket. "Here," she said in her lilting voice, "Take my lucky stake." It was a hard, twisty piece of wood that looked rather deadly. "I call it..." she hesitated. "I call it Mr Pointy."

The older Slayer took it with a grim smile. "Nice weight," she complimented as she hefted it in her hand and then she was gone.

Watching the library doors swing shut Xander sighed. Then he walked over to the weapons cabinet and unhooked the sword that Giles had given him, before attaching it to the small clasps that he had attached to his belt the previous night. Looking up, he saw that Oz had raised an eyebrow at him. "Interesting accessory," said the werewolf carefully. Xander drew it and looked along the blade. "I never was much of a scout," he said grimly, "But 'Be Prepared' sounds like a good motto right now," and he walked up the stairs to the bookshelves at the back of the library.


The ritual so far seemed to consist of Willow muttering long sentences, then short sentences, then Cordelia and Oz waving burning pieces of something in the air, followed by more muttering, all to the accompaniment of stifled sneezing from Giles.

However Xander's mind was only half on the ritual and when, 15 minutes after Willow had started it, he began to pick up vibes of his own, he suddenly realised that they were in deep trouble. The trap wasn't for Buffy. It was for them.

"Giles?" he called.

"What is it, Xander?"

"Giles, there are vampires in the school. Five of them coming my way, another eight towards the front doors."

There was a moment of consternation in the library.

"What?" asked Cordelia, as Kendra pulled out her back-up stake and stood poised by the doors.

"Xander, how can you tell?" asked a flustered Willow. Then she looked at Giles, who had crossed quickly to the weapons cabinet, where he now pulled out a large battleaxe.

"Long story, Wills," said Xander, drawing his sword and unclipping the scabbard so that it didn't get in the way. "Very long story. Just trust me on this one. They'll be here in a few seconds..."

When the vampires did arrive it was obvious that they had been counting on catching the people in the library by surprise. Being taken by surprise themselves came as a nasty shock.

Kendra got the first one through the front door with stake to the heart, while Giles caught the second one at neck height with his battleaxe. After that it got rather nasty, but Xander could tell that they were just about holding their own, as he bellowed "Cordelia, run!"

He had his own battle on his hands. Ever since Buffy had left he had been in the grip of the force, calm, collected and ready for anything, or at least as much anything as he could sense. The first vampire to come his way had lost his head before he knew what had hit him, while the second one had just enough time to make a surprised noise before the sword flashed out again and he too lost his head, his body exploding into dust as he died.

Like the battle at the front doors, after this initial victory the fight then got nasty.

He had three opponents, whom he mentally labeled Fangface One, Fangface Two and Fashion Victim, the latter due to his appalling red skintight top, which was at least eight years out of date.

Fangface One charged towards him and received a ding on the ear from the pommel for his trouble as he went past, before hitting the wall and groaning a great deal. Fangface Two dived, dipped and tried to get at Xander while staying away from the sword while Xander tried to stay away from the vamps superior strength while getting close enough to deliver a killing blow at the same time. Fashion Victim seemed to be thinking and then vanished behind the bookshelves.

Fangface Two made a sidle, lunged in a clumsy feint and then paid the price, as Xander lopped his head clean off. A trickle of sweat ran into one eye and he cursed quietly. Even with the force he was being sloppy and slow, but this was his first real fight with both the force and the sword and he needed a lot more practice. He heard a wrenching noise somewhere at the back of the book stacks and then feeling a flicker in the force he ducked, as Fangface Two's fist just missed his head. Luckily the vampire wasn't that experienced and a few seconds later was little than motes of filthy dust.

It was at that moment that Fashion Victim returned on the scene clutching a metal rod that he had pulled off one of the windows. He had no grace, no technique at all, but a vampire with a damn great lump of metal is still dangerous. Xander parried the first blow, dodged the second and diverted the second, before moving with unaccustomed grace and speed with the force to move his sword down and then up sharply, severing the hand that Fashion Victim was using to wield the rod and sending it whirling off. There was a clang and a groan to one side, but Xander kept his attention on the vampire.

Fashion Victim stared stupidly at the stump where his hand used to be before launching himself at Xander with a scream of rage, making it absurdly simple for Xander to sidestep and hack the vampire's head off.

Breathing heavily Xander turned and looked at the library and experienced a moment of total and utter shock that totally collapsed his grip on the force.

Willow was lying in a crumpled heap next to the table, with a metal rod next to her that had dust all over the base. Oz was slumped a few yards away, with blood running down his face from a cut to his forehead, struggling to stay conscious. By the way that he was holding his arm, something there was either sprained or broken.

As for the others... Giles was being dragged limply away by a pair of rather battered vampires, who kept looking back fearfully at Xander, while Kendra... was in the grip of Drusilla. Who was busy draining the life out of the Slayer.