DISCLAIMER: Alrighty, enough of that boring banter and exposition. As promised, here it is - FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! Well, okay, the beginnings of it. Next chapter, I promise…

"I don't see anyone inside," Sara observed, peeking through the glass windows of the shop's door.

Shaun wrinkled his nose, shifting his weight nervously. "Well, the sign does say 'Closed'."

"Before 5pm? I don't think so. Something's wrong."

"I really hate when you say that," he sighed.

"Don't worry, I have a cunning plan." She pulled a small booklet from her bag, turned it to a marked page, and handed it to Shaun.

"This is your cunning plan? The Little Book of Really Useful Spells?" he asked, recognizing the cover illustration.

"You've read it?"

"Your friend Grayson was kind enough to give me a copy last time I saw him."

"Ugh, that's twice his name has come up now. Twice too many for me. Anyway, this is a protection spell. I need you to stay right here, outside the threshold. If Pru decides to go all Dark Willow on me, this spell will counter any of her magic, okay?"

"Assuming I can read ancient Sumerian."

"It's Babylonian, actually. And it's only four words. Gureme, Neneme, Cheneme, Dodala. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Then say it."

"Gureme, Neneme, Cheneme, Doberman," he repeated.

"Dodala," Sara sighed.

"That's the bugger." Shaun straightened his shoulders. "I've got it, I promise."

"Good. Now I need you to promise me something else."

"What?"

"If things go pear-shaped, no amount of chanting will save me. So you have to promise me that you'll go back to the hotel, get everyone out, then contact Michael at the Council and tell him what happened."

"No, no way."

"Shaun…"

"Look, I am not leaving you," he declared. "You said you weren't going anywhere, so neither am I."

She looked at him, trying to change his mind, but it was useless; he had adopted his "resolved face." She shook her head quickly. "Fine. I just wish you weren't so stubborn sometimes."

"Right back at 'cha, babe," he smirked. "Be safe, Sara."

She placed her hand on his chest and smiled back. "I will. Stand back, I'm going in." She steeled herself and kicked the door open, crouching at the threshold and scanning the shop.

Julian's unconscious figure was lying on the floor nearby. Sara rushed over and examined him; pulse was normal, breathing was normal. But the enormous bruise on his forehead didn't bode well. "Julian? Julian, wake up!"

He moaned slightly and tried to turn his head.

"We need to get you out of here," she said, gently trying to put his arm around her shoulder and get him to his feet. As she dragged her handler to the store entrance, the door suddenly slammed shut in front of them. Shaun jumped, his eyes wide and she heard him begin to call her name. Then he was gone.

"Shit!" Sara groaned with Julian's weight bearing down on her as she tried to free one hand; she jiggled the door handle but it was locked tight. At least, it wouldn't open.

"Well, well, well," a queer female voice called from the back office. "The cards told me there was a slayer in town. I should know better than to doubt them."

Sara slowly turned around, returning Julian gently to the floor. "Prunella Davies, I assume."

"Correct," said the gypsy-chic woman who emerged from the office. "And you must be the slayer. Have you come here to bring me in?"

"That depends," she casually shrugged. "Have you done something wrong?"

Pru chuckled. "That's very clever. Your friend tried to plead ignorance as well, but I knew exactly who he was."

"What did you do to him?"

"Oh, it's just the usual concussion brought about by blunt force head trauma. He should survive. Any other questions?"

Sara rested her elbow on a stack of books and looked the sorceress over. "Yeah, I've got a question."

"I'm listening."

"Does Stevie Nicks know you raid her wardrobe?"

"Don't waste my time, slayer."

"Oh, I'm sorry, have you got something pressing to attend to? Apart from pushing trinkets and herbs on desperate housewives?" She started toward Pru, slowly. "What are you planning, Pru? 'Cause if it's the end of the world, I'm kind of obligated to stop you."

The woman chuckled condescendingly. Sara bet that made Julian's blood boil, and it wasn't doing much for her either. "Nothing so pedantic. I'm looking for justice. Same as you. To right a centuries-old wrong."

"Now see, my way of justice doesn't involve killing innocent people. Slightly different philosophies there."

Pru spread her arms in a gesture of innocence. "I haven't killed anyone."

"Maybe not directly. But you made it happen when you offered to help Evelyn Fairfax summon a vengeance demon. You set the wheels in motion, you bear the responsibility."

The witch glared at her. "You stand there, passing judgment on me. As if you've always been right. What about all the people you couldn't save, like Will? And Emma?"

Checkmate. "Actually, that's enough about me. Let's talk about you."

"Of course, you didn't really want to save Emma, did you? You're glad she's gone. She was standing in the way of something…or someone you wanted, wasn't she?"

Sara clenched her fists. Pru's violet eyes seemed to be staring right into her soul; it made her feel at a slight disadvantage, which was never a good thing. "You don't know anything about me, or how I feel."

"Oh, but I do, my dear. There's a darkness in you. I can sense it. You try to hide it, you try to run from it, but you need it in order to survive. To do your job and do it well. You simply choose to deny that it's there."

"Is this a pitch for me to switch to the Dark Side? Because I've had better offers."

"You're assuming I have some use for you," Pru dismissed, running her fingers along a display case containing an assortment of crystals. "I can assure you I don't."

"It isn't too late, Pru," Sara said, trying a different tack. "Yes, it was unfortunate that people died as a result of your efforts to help Evelyn. But if you willingly go before the Council, if you tell them that this was an accident and that you never meant to hurt anyone, they might understand and grant you clemency."

Pru cackled, coming ever closer and standing eye to eye with Sara. "You foolish, naïve child. Do you really think that any punishment from the Council could possibly scare me?"

"I think you'd be surprised. We've come a long way since the Inquisition."

The woman feigned warmth and exhaled, patting Sara on the shoulder. "Much as I've enjoyed this little chat, I really must be off. You'll see yourself out, won't you?"

"You're not walking away from this, Pru."

"Then neither will you." With a gesture of her be-ringed hand, a finely engraved Scottish dirk lifted into the air from the wall behind the retail counter. Spinning slowly, its blade caught the light from the windows. Both women watched it intensely; suddenly Pru flicked her wrist and the knife came spinning headlong toward Sara. Gasping, she held up her arm to brace for the impact, but the dirk fell away harmlessly, clattering to the floor. Sara smiled; it was working. That's my boy, got my back...

"You might want to work on your aim," Sara remarked, with a slight note of relief.

"Maybe I just need something bigger." She glanced at a rack of heavy books on the shelves behind them, and they toppled onto the floor. Sara backflipped across the room to Julian to shield him from the barrage, and again the heavy volumes were deflected.

"I must say, that is one effective counterspell," Pru marveled.

Sara writhed over onto her knees and stood. "Guess your Wicca just ain't what it used to be, huh?"

"I'm just getting warmed up, my dear."

Sara adopted a defensive stance while unbeknownst to her, Julian came to; sparks and delicate beams of electricity began to encircle them as Pru readied to toss a handful of silver letter openers in their direction.

"Vindo a mim!" Julian called, holding out his hand and drawing a tapestry from the wall in front of them as cover. Sara stumbled back into her handler's arms; seconds later, dozens of silver points jutted out from the tightly-woven fibers. The tapestry embedded with letter openers then fell to the ground.

"Nicely done," Sara gasped, ushering Julian to a makeshift cover across the room, behind another display cabinet. "Are you okay?"

"Bit of a headache, but I'll be fine."

"Good, meanwhile…this chick is toast."

Julian held up an arm to stop her. "Not before we question her."

"You were more fun unconscious," she pouted.

Wincing, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small blue bone-like object, placing into her hand. "I found spikes from the Velkor demon on her desk. She destroyed it. Along with all the other evidence, I'm guessing."

"Why would she do that? To protect Evelyn?"

"I think she has other plans for Evelyn."

"But why would she save the demon's spikes?" Sara wondered.

Julian shrugged his lack of ideas and moved closer to the edge of the cabinet. "Mrs. Davies," he called out, "you've already assaulted two agents of the Council. I'd suggest you cease and desist—"

Jars on shelves above them began to explode, raining glass shards and an assortment of brightly-colored powders onto them.

"She's not desisting," Sara observed.

"How much longer will your protection spell hold?"

"It'll hold as long as Shaun keeps chanting. He's just outside with a handy Babylonian counterspell."

"Good, I'll go check on him. See if he needs any help. Meanwhile, feel free to use whatever force necessary to subdue her."

Sara issued a satisfied smirk. "I love this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it, let's do it!"

As Sara rummaged through her messenger bag and took a quick weapons inventory, Julian scrambled to the door; through the corner of his eye, he observed Pru lighting candles and chanting with her eyes closed. She must have decided he wasn't so much of a threat as his charge because the door opened this time and he slipped out unnoticed.

"Hello, again," he said quickly to Shaun, who paced the pavement outside and nodded but continued to say the words of the counterspell.

"I hope you know how much we appreciate this. I know you've been through a lot in the past few hours. No one would have blamed you if you had just decided to go home..."

Shaun tried to smile, tried to continue the chant but for some reason his breath was getting shorter. The pain in his side where the Velkor had spiked him….stronger. He began to panic, hyperventilating; he flashed back to Julian's words in Sara's room the night before: "…it's impossible to know how you'll be affected…"

No, please, not now; he'd promised to protect her. Staggering toward Julian: "Gureme, Neneme, Ch-Cheneme, D…Do…" he whispered breathlessly, slumping to the ground as the strength in his legs left him.

"I do understand that you have feelings for Sara, that you feel a certain responsibility to protect her," Julian continued, observing the witch's preparation through the glass in the door, his back to Shaun. "But I assure you, she'll be fine. She's been trained to fight on her own. Because really, in the end, all she can count on is herself. It's lesson one of being a slayer. Or is it lesson two? Anyway, let me know if you get tired; I can continue the chant. Shaun…"

No answer. No chanting either. "Shaun? Oh, dear…"

Meanwhile, Sara walked to the middle of the shop floor. She faced Pru down while casually flipping a Viking axe from one hand to another. "Okay, you've tossed a few things at me. I think it's my turn now."

"Spare me the condescending banter. And all your hollow threats. Council operatives aren't allowed to harm mortals."

"I think the Council would make an exception for you."

"You can't prove my involvement in any of these recent, horrible events."

Sara held up the evidence Julian had passed on to her. "Spikes from the Velkor demon—they connect you to the portal-jumper and to the scene of the crime. Plus, Evelyn was only too happy to tell us all about your helpfulness. So what's the plan, Pru? What's your endgame?"

"What? I tell you, so you can run along and report back to the Council?"

"I'm alone. I'm not wearing a wire. It's just you and me, Pru. And I'm just curious. You've unleashed a massive amount of mystical energy. For what? To kill a few women? It hardly seems worth the effort."

"They were miscalculations. I don't plan to repeat the same mistake twice."

"And what's all this rubbish about righting a centuries-old wrong? Did someone make fun of you on the playground? Steal your Barbie doll? 'Cause you don't look quite that old to me. Granted, your fashion sense is totally retro. But not in a good way."

Pru cocked her head to one side. "Tell me, what are you doing with your life? The body you inhabit, does it have any value to you? You wake up everyday, you breathe in and out, you take one step after another. But can you even begin to comprehend the gift that is a beating heart, breathing lungs, functioning bones and muscle tissue? You take it for granted. Just like those women did."

"So what, you thought you'd teach us all a lesson in humility?"

"I don't wish to teach anyone anything. I am merely…shifting the paradigm, shall we say? Letting those who do value life take over from those that don't."

Sara was almost out of patience. "Oh, wait, now I get it. You're just another nutter with a God complex. Which, in my opinion, is surprisingly unoriginal. And even though your intentions sound really noble, I'm pretty sure four homicides is gonna' cancel your one-way ticket to the pearly gates."

Pru glanced at her sideways as she lit the last candle, blowing out the lighter. "Then arrest me. Let's see what happens. Somehow I think a jury would believe me, a fine upstanding citizen, before they'd believe you. A violent, manipulative harlot who would have done anything to get the man she loved. Including murder."

"We're done talking," Sara said through clenched teeth.

"I know the truth hurts, doesn't it? It hurts so much that you don't want to face it." The witch calmly lifted a velvet bookmark from a large volume inscribed with a pentagram and continued. "You don't have the strength or the courage to do so. You never have. So you run away, move on. Again and again. So that you won't have to look into the faces of all the people you've disappointed."

She paused, grinning malevolently at Sara. "Are you going to disappoint Shaun next?"

"I said we're done." Sara spun on the ball of her foot and flung the axe at Pru, who caught it with surprising ease.

Pru regarded the weapon, its blade glistening in the light as she turned it. "Yes, I believe we are."

Instantaneously she hurled the weapon back. The blade was still spinning when Sara realized it wasn't being deflected by the counterspell. There was no time, no moment to consider what might have happened if Shaun stopped chanting; she jumped quickly to the side, but the axe caught her upper arm and tore a bloody gash. Sara cried out, reflexively placed her hand on the wound and looked back in shock at Pru, who sneered triumphantly.

"Or perhaps…it's Shaun's turn to disappoint you."