Mutant Enemy Television, Inc. owns pretty much everything within the Angel/Buffy universe. My use is in no way meant to challenge any established copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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VII - Signs and Portents

Janna awoke with a start, knowing on some instinctual level that something was very wrong – she was not alone. She almost called out into the inky darkness of her room, wanting to ask who was there, needing to know that she was not in any danger. But just before she opened her mouth to speak, she stopped herself. Slayers don't call out in fear, she told herself. Slayers bring fear to the things that go bump in the night.

She ignored how exposed and vulnerable she felt, lying on her back under a thin sheet with no weapons in reach. I'm the weapon, she reminded herself. I don't need a knife or stake as some kind of crutch. She momentarily held her breath, listening for the slightest stirring in her room. She had just about convinced herself that it had all been her imagination when she heard what sounded to her like the distant echo of a muffled breath. Janna disregarded the tempting thought that it was only her imagination; she was certainly not alone, and whoever was in the room with her knew that she was awake and listening.

And now they'll have to decide whether or not I was likely to have heard them, Janna told herself. If they decide I likely heard them, then it's time to fight or flee. That realization put her in motion just in time – Janna slid her legs off the side of the bed and was on her feet just in time to meet her attacker. He was nothing less than massive, standing almost seven feet tall with shoulders that seemed almost as wide and legs that were as thick as Janna's chest. The Slayer parried the intruder's first strikes, pain shooting through her forearms as her bones absorbed the brunt of the jarring impact of fists and forearms that felt as if they were made of stone. Janna desperately tried to hold her ground as she sought a strategy, struggling against panic and trying to keep herself levelheaded. He's bigger and stronger than I am, she admitted to herself. My mind may be the only advantage I have, and if I lose my cool it's over.

Janna finally found an opening and lashed out with the deadly quickness and precision of a cobra. Her fists connected solidly with her foe's chin, but his head hardly even rolled with the blow. She followed with a palm heel strike to the man's sternum, putting everything she had behind the effort, but he did not even seem to feel it. He jabbed out quickly, catching Janna in the gut and doubling her over in pain. Stand up before he flattens you! Janna's mind screamed out in warning. The Slayer regained her feet just in time to sidestep a right hook she was certain would have crushed her skull.

She was starting to consider fleeing when her opponent finally made a mistake – he over-extended slightly as he tried to force the action. Janna was surprised that she noticed the misstep – she was still learning the basics of hand-to-hand fighting, after all – but she took full advantage. Forget the testicles, go for the knees, she remembered Graham advising her in one of her first sparring sessions. Most men are well aware of their one major weak spot, but take out a knee and even the biggest man will topple to the floor. Fairly confident that her opponent might qualify as 'the biggest man,' Janna put everything she had into a forward snap kick that she quickly followed with an elbow strike to his chin.

The large man wobbled slightly, and Janna never allowed him to regain his balance. She literally charged forward, launching a haymaker at the side of his head. The man grunted at the impact and staggered back, smashing the ceramic elephant lamp Janna had received from her cousin in Illinois. It was no huge loss, since it had never worked, but she winced at the noise it made. If my parents had somehow slept through the rest of this, there're certainly gonna wake up after that.

Forgetting her initial fear and doubt, and resolving at least to knock out the intruder before her father could interfere, Janna continued to advance on her prey, sweeping his legs out from under him, grabbing her yearbook from the previous school year and using it to bludgeon the man into submission. The binding of the journal thudded heavily once, twice, and then was slapped aside as the man regained his composure. He grabbed Janna's calf and twisted sharply, wrenching her ankle around and taking her down to the floor. The young slayer almost laughed as she saw her opponent rising to his own feet as she collapsed from her own, the two of them passing each other in their brief journeys in opposite directions. Her head cracked sharply off of the foot of her dresser on the way down, and Janna's mind screamed out at her to struggle against losing consciousness.

She looked up just in time to see her attacker's boot connect with her forehead, snapping her head back painfully; Janna felt strangely alert, more so than she would ever have expected in the situation, but she likewise was all too aware of the fact that her legs just would not acknowledge her command to work. She continued to lie there, musing that she now knew what boxers felt like when they were knocked for a loop – the spirit was willing, but the body was far less than able. That was when she saw the glint of metal as the man drew a large scimitar that Janna was certain was just as sharp as it was battle-worn.

A brief thought flashed through her mind – exactly how many years did I lose off my life expectancy by becoming a superhero? – and just before the inevitable end was brought down upon her, Janna heard the deep throaty rumble that she quickly identified as a growl. The growl of a very, very large wolf.

Janna could smell the wolf before she actually saw it – a heavy scent that seemed to combine the musk of a panther she'd seen at the zoo when she was a kid, and the sharp, oppressive odor of wet dog. The large man immediately shifted his attention away from her and toward the wolf. The monstrous animal padded cautiously from the closet, the sight reminding Janna of the tenth clown emerging from a Volkswagen – she just couldn't imagine how the beast had managed to fit in a closet that wasn't even large enough to accommodate her entire wardrobe.

The sheen on its immaculately white fur caught a beam of moonlight that was shining in through the window, and the growl grew into a snarl. Sharp, oversized canines – but no drool, Janna noticed – were threateningly displayed. Lightening fast the animal pounced, only to be impaled on the end of the sword. The weapon, still embedded in the wolf's ribcage, was torn from the man's hand as the animal crumpled to the floor with a surprised yelp; Janna took full advantage of the unexpected opportunity.

She'd regained her senses and was upon her attacker in a heartbeat, tackling his legs and knocking him to the floor. Janna tore the bedpost from her bed and started to club the man, her strikes echoing dully through the room. Just as she concluded he must be dead, he backhanded her, almost casually, and sent her falling back three steps. A crippling kick to her abdomen followed, and once again she fell, though this time her opponent remained conspicuously still. Her head bounced off the floor, and she realized that the thudding from her strikes with the bedpost was still continuing.

Janna looked around, momentarily panicked by the fact that she was unable to move her arms or legs. "Janna, open the door!" she heard her father yelling loudly from outside. The thudding from the bedpost became her father's pounding at the door. A quick appraisal of the situation revealed that she was on the floor next to bed, tangled up in her sheets with Higgins – her stuffed monkey – gripped tightly in her right hand. It was all a dream? Goddamn…

"Hold on," she called out weakly, realizing she was completely out of breath.

"Are you okay?" her father asked, an unfamiliar tone in his voice.

"I'm fine," Janna muttered. She unlocked the door and was nothing less than shocked when she saw the concern on the faces of her parents. "I'm fine," she repeated. Her father nodded weakly, obviously relieved that the crisis had passed. Her mother remained upset, though, and for several moments Janna was afraid she'd be on the receiving end of a very awkward embrace. Her mother wasn't big on physical touch, and it had been over a decade since Janna had gotten a hug. She wasn't quite sure how she was expected to react.

The Slayer was relieved when her mother simply offered a question. "What happened?"

"Bad dream… sorta."

"You made all that noise because of a nightmare?" her father asked, suddenly incredulous and comfortingly more dad-like.

"Oh God… not the nightmares again," her mother gasped, reminding Janna of the veritable panic attacks her mother had been experiencing before Xander showed up to address Janna's behavior problems. "It's because of that occult shop, isn't it?" Janna immediately threw herself into damage-control mode, knowing that she had to come up with a reply that would prevent her mother from going on an anti-Magic Shop crusade.

"No, not a nightmare," Janna corrected. "Nothing like those nightmares I used to have, anyway. Like I said – it was just a bad dream. Sorta. I'm not entirely certain, but I'm pretty sure I was on the Love Boat, and that skinny doctor guy told me I should take better care of myself. Then outta nowhere comes Billy Blanks, and he gets me started with some Tae Bo right there on the deck. I think William Shatner and Regis Philbin fit in there somewhere, too. And maybe 50 Cent. I think he was the bartender…" She just threw out the most inane things she could think of, knowing that the more ridiculous it sounded, the less made-up her parents would think it was.

"Fifty cents?" her father asked. "What?"

"Doesn't matter," Janna replied, not even taking a moment to weigh the merits of explaining to her father who 50 Cent is at three in the morning. "Just a weird dream. I guess I started doing aerobics in my sleep or something – I knocked a couple of things off my dresser."

"And what about the screaming?" her mother asked.

"Screaming?" Janna responded, trying to sound puzzled as to why she might have been screaming during a dream involving the Love Boat. "Don't remember screaming. Maybe I was trying to keep count while I was doing jumping jacks. Or maybe there was an iceberg near the end of the dream and I just don't remember." Her father's dubious expression told her he wasn't buying a word of it – but a quick glance toward her mother let Janna know that her mother, predictably enough, was choosing the easier path of believing Janna's excuses rather than facing the possibility that her daughter was going back down the road to madness, just as they had feared she was during the summer. "I'll talk to Xander about it during our next session, see if it means anything," Janna offered. "You know how those therapist types are with dream interpretation."

"Yes, that's a good idea," her mother commented. "Ask Xander. He'll know what to do."

"You want some tea or anything?" her father asked, noticeably passing up the chance to make any comments about Xander. While he couldn't argue with the improvements in Janna's behavior, he had never really gotten over feeling cheated when Dr. Alexander Harris, European Specialist turned out to be young American Xander, a California guy with a spooky eye patch and a high-school education.

"No, I'll just go back to sleep," Janna said wearily. "See ya in the morning." Once she was back in bed, she began to run through the dream on her own, trying to figure out what it might have meant. It only took her a few minutes to decide that it was more vision than dream. When Xander had initially warned her that she might receive visions, Janna had thought it cool. She hadn't expected her first vision to be a violent encounter involving an overpowering nighttime intruder and a super-sized wolf. But if it is a vision, just what in the world does it mean?

To be continued…………………………………………