See Part 1 for Disclaimer and other details. Thanks as always to those who have reviewed! Just to warn you all, there are passing references in this chapter to the 1999 events at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado; no offence is meant, and I apologize in advance to anyone that might get upset by this. That being said, however, on with the story...

Part VI: There's Always Choices

City Hall, Sunnydale. Late April, 1999

Mr. Trick knocked on the Mayor's door, casually inspecting his fingernails before silently cursing himself. ( This is no good. Almost feels like I'm getting domesticated, by that guy! Maybe I should think of just moving on from Mayberry, already... )

Instantly though, the Master vamp banished such thoughts. ( Forget it; look what happened to that idiot chump Finch, when he tried that route! No, looks like I'm stuck here for the duration. Still, it's not all bad...and let's not forget – I got a promise to keep, to that bitch of a Slayer... )

"Come in!" Wilkins called out, interrupting Trick's thoughts.

Schooling his face into a neutral expression, the dark-skinned vampire went in. "You sent for me, Mr. Mayor?"

"Indeed I did, Mr. Trick," Richard got up with the usual friendly smile on his face. It instantly put Trick on his guard, though. "Something's come to my attention that you should know about."

"And that is?" Trick asked calmly, even though on the inside he was a bit worried. For the vamp had lied to the Mayor about how one of his minions had destroyed the Books of Ascension...to cover his own ass, of course.

"A package is arriving tomorrow night from Central America. Something, and I can't stress this enough, something crucially important to my Ascension. Without it...well! What can I say? I would be pretty darn disappointed, let me tell you..."

"And you don't want me to disappoint you," Trick said somewhat cynically, as he relaxed internally over that other matter.

"Golly, of course not! You're my right-hand demon, after all. How you handle things reflects on me, personally." Then Wilkins suddenly looked bored, putting away the happy expression. "Nine o'clock at the airport, Mr. Trick. Don't be late."

The vampire nodded and left the room, his ire simmering a little at the lack of respect and being treated like an office boy; Faith's taunting voice suddenly in his head, calling him a "spineless little minion"...

Making a decision, Trick went to his office and picked up the phone. "Get me Lyle Gorch on the line."

He waited a while then said in a cheerful voice, "Lyle! You old dog, how are you?"

#Fine,# said a Texan accent from the other end of the line. #You?#

"Well, I'm not too bad myself, let me tell you. Sunnydale may not yet be a haven for the bruthas – but it does have its charms, nonetheless, for those not of the Caucasian persuasion. Listen, where are you right now?"

#Tijuana,# Gorch's voice came through the receiver, oddly distorted.

"Well, fine, that's not too far away. Can you be here by tomorrow night? 'Cause I got a job for someone of your talents, and there are lots of dead Presidents involved..."

Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale. The next day

Cordelia Chase was walking along outside the building, casually ignoring Principal Snyder's antics of looking for drugs amongst the student body. She spied Xander sitting alone up against a tree, reading a book – and, upon recalling the things Faith had told her after reading his mind thanks to that whole telepathic demon incident, approached the male teen carefully.

"Hey," the young woman said neutrally, as she stopped in front of him.

"Hello, Cordelia," Xander said in the same tone, as he looked up from his book.

"What are you reading?"

He held up the volume and said, "'The Hitch Hiker's Guide to Europe'. Fascinating stuff, especially what they write about Paris! Apparently the place's changed a lot, from what Bourne remembers..."

"I guess. Never been there myself," Cordelia admitted casually.

Xander put aside the book, and patted the grass beside him. "Wanna sit down?"

Ms. Chase said indignantly, "And ruin this dress with grass stains? As if!" ( And it's not like I have the money anymore to buy another one like it...thanks to Daddy's little fun horsing around with his tax returns that way! )

Xander got up gracefully and asked, "So. What's on your mind?"

Cordelia gestured towards where Buffy, Faith, Oz and Willow were talking at a nearby table. "How come you're not over there with the others?"

Harris sighed and grabbed her hand; Cordelia almost flinched from the electric feel of his skin upon hers. "Let's take a walk. Unless, you don't want to be seen in public with me?" he asked.

Cordelia snorted, recalling some recent intense arguments with Harmony and the others about that sort of thing. "High school is over in about a month, so what does popularity really mean now? What the hell, I'll risk it!"

"Okay. But...I'm sure you heard about what was reported on the news a few days ago, that high school massacre in Colorado," Xander told her, as she linked arms with him and they started to walk. "And the fact that one of those kids responsible was named 'Harris'? It's sent me more than a few funny looks, lately!"

"Whatever. Now answer my question!" the Chase girl demanded. "Why have you been isolating yourself lately?"

Again, Xander sighed. "I haven't exactly been 'isolating myself', as you put it – Faith still tells me what's going on, on account of we still live together, you know. But the sad fact is...my time in the Scooby Gang is coming to an end."

"What?" the female teen didn't get it.

"I can feel it, Cordy. We've been drifting apart more and more lately. What can I say? Buffy really hates guns, and thanks to recent events – she flat-out demanded that I stop using them. Didn't go down well when I told her that she wasn't the boss of me; and if I didn't know better, I'd swear she's starting to develop a complex about that sort of thing! But anyway, apart from all that, with Oz, Willow and Buffy going off to college and me not-"

"Whoa! Hold on!" Cordelia dragged them both to a stop. "What is this? I thought Faith said you'd applied to a number of places?"

"Yeah, well, I had to make her think that – in order to get her to stop nagging about it," Harris said with a shrug, ignoring her annoyed look. "But getting back on topic, I've been thinking a lot about my future; and I've come to the decision that spending the next four years in a lecture hall taking notes isn't my thing."

The brunette teenager looked a little lost. "So what ARE you going to be doing, assuming we survive the Ascension? Getting a job at the DMV, or the local pizza parlour? Puh-lease. At one time, maybe, but nowadays? I don't think so!"

Xander just smiled slightly, annoying the HELL out of the girl. "Sorry, Cordy. But that's still a secret, for now."

"UGHHHHHHHH!" Cordelia ranted, feeling a familiar rush of anger and passion towards her ex. "You have GOT to be the most annoying guy I've ever met!"

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," Harris replied, enjoying their verbal sparring as always. "What about you? Where are you going to college?"

Cordelia hesitated. "I-I'm not sure yet. I, I got accepted into USC, Colorado State, Duke, and Columbia..."

"Wow! Those are great colleges," Xander said sincerely, impressed.

"I guess. I mean, I just thought for sure you'd be going to one of these places as well!"

"Sorry," Xander shrugged again. Then he frowned, "You know, I don't remember it myself, but – David Webb was teaching as a professor at some minor New Hampshire university, before he was recruited by Treadstone-71. Nasty time in his life; apparently, according to the book, he was self-destructing by that point. Guess subconsciously, that could be having an impact on why I decided to be Non-College Guy," the boy finished up musingly.

"Right. Well, I better get going," Cordelia said, as she stepped back. "I'll see you around..."

But as she walked away, Harris dropped the calm smile and frowned at her departing back. "What are you trying to hide from me?" he asked himself.

Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale. Later that day

Buffy Summers was in the middle of a intense discussion with her Watcher...s, about her own future. "But why shouldn't I be able to leave after I graduate? I mean, Faith will still be here to be Miss Sunnydale in the Slayer pageant, won't she?"

Wesley smirked, "Well, you ARE the more senior Chosen One. I'm sure Faith still has much that she can learn from you, regarding beauty contests..."

Buffy playfully stuck out her tongue at him, something that a few months ago or in another world she would have never done. "Ha-ha. But you know, you can't define me and Faith just by our Slayer-ness. That's...something-ism!"

"Buffy..." Giles started to say.

"I got into Northwestern!" the blonde interrupted, a hopeful look on her face as she turned to face him. "My mom was gushing about it to Aunt Arleen on the phone, earlier."

"That's wonderful news. Good for you," Rupert replied, looking like a proud father.

"Indeed, but be all that as it may, we do still have the Mayor's Ascension to worry about first," Wes pointed out. "We've learned quite a lot in general from studying the Books, but rather little in specifics...other than Mayor Wilkins is planning to turn into a pure demon on Graduation day, into one of the Old Ones themselves..."

Ms. Summers replied, "Yeah, I know. Look, Wesley, I'm aware that my high school graduation may be, amongst other things, posthumous, but...what if we stop the Ascension? It's my life we're talking about!"

"Well, you should keep in mind there are other factors to consider in leaving Sunnydale other than just yourself, you know," Pryce felt he had to point out.

"Like what?" the girl demanded.

"For one thing, I rather suspect the Council will object to your plans to just pack up and move away to a place where, apparently...there are relatively few demons and vampires," the Watcher replied.

"It's not that far from Cleveland!" Buffy shot back, having heard that place was infested with evil demons and the undead.

"True. But at the very least, they'll send another Watcher with you to Illinois...as they still don't know that Mr. Giles is working with you instead of myself," Wesley said plainly. "And I suspect that whoever they send, that person would be far less tolerant of Mr. Giles's presence than I. You do remember what my attitude was like when I first got here, I take it?"

Buffy shuddered at the memory. "Point. But, maybe it won't be like that! I mean..."

"And there is something else, or rather someone else, that you need to keep in mind – if you do choose to leave the Hellmouth," Giles said, as a thought appeared to occur to him.

"What? Who?" asked the Slayer.

"Angel," the British man said simply.

Buffy got a cold feeling at that, as Wesley nodded. "Quite right. Here in Sunnydale, on your home turf so to speak – you're able to dictate terms, or at least somewhat. All alone in a strange place however, assuming that your high school friends won't be there with you...well. Your new Watcher might summon one of the Council's wet works teams to get rid of a vampire problem, once he or she learned the situation, and there might be nothing you could do to keep Angel safe from harm..."

Giles could see his former charge getting upset, and so he tried to be kind and reassuring. "Buffy, we're not trying to make you feel bad; Wesley and I are simply attempting to make you aware of all the facts, before you make your decision. Because, all things considered, it is a vitally important one."

"So, what you're saying is that my life isn't exactly gonna be all roses and white picket fences whatever I do, huh? Even if we stop the Mayor, there's always gonna be something else. I'm a Sunnydale girl, no other choice-"

"Perhaps we could look into finding somewhere else for you to matriculate, as a sort of compromise?" Wesley then said, looking hopeful.

"What do you mean?" Buffy and Giles asked in stereo, and then grinned at one another.

Wyndam-Pryce said slowly, "Well, if you enrolled into UCLA...that might work; Los Angeles is your former hometown, after all. And according to my sources, Angel's lived in the city more than once, so it's not unfamiliar territory for him either. There are millions of people there, along with a large vampire population, so no doubt you would be kept busy as the Slayer in between classes – and he would have an excellent chance of disappearing into the woodwork, if worst comes to worst with the Council. Or...perhaps, because it's only about a two-hour drive, we could persuade them there's no need for another Watcher to be sent? I could say that I'll alternate between staying there and here, to also keep an eye on Faith..."

Buffy's mouth was hanging open in delight. Finally she stammered, "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with the real Wesley? 'Cause that's DIABOLICAL!" She rushed over to give the man a hug, surprising them both. "Wes, how'd you come up with all that?"

The man suddenly hesitated. "Yes, well. The topic of Los Angeles may have come up once or twice, while I was talking to Xander and Faith last night..."

City Hall, Sunnydale. Just after sunset

A limousine stopped in front of the building, and a male figure in an unmistakeable Stetson climbed out of the car. ( Well, now, shee-it. A man could get used to travelling in style like this... )

"Lyle Gorch!" Trick's voice rang out, as he came out the front door.

"Well, if ain't the creator of Slayerfest '98 hisself! How ya been, Trick?" the deep voice of the bearded vampire growled out, in what could possibly be taken as a friendly manner.

"Well, passable, as I said on the phone. Glad you made it outta there in one piece back then, by the way."

Lyle pushed his hat back, as he studied his companion. "These days, son, I'm all for gettin' down to brass tacks. So what's the job? And what kinda money are we talking about?"

Trick grinned, his patsy for tonight's charade having swallowed the bait hook, line and sinker. "We got two Slayers in town, as you recall. I wanna shake things up a little, get rid of one or maybe even both of them tonight. Plan is for you to get paid 100 K, up-front, in order to do this."

"That's a whole lotta money, to get rid of one or two stinkin' little girls," Lyle suddenly looked suspicious. Trick knew, though, that the amount was in fact only going to be about ten thousand dollars; the base amount supplemented with play money and counterfeit to make up the numbers. "What's the catch?"

Mr. Trick tried to smile graciously. "There are plans within plans tonight, my Texan friend. You don't need to know details, only that the real power in this town wants the Slayers and their friends...distracted for the evening," the vampire said somewhat sardonically. "And who else can best provide said distraction, by killing the hell outta both of them like that?"

Gorch still wasn't entirely sold. "That's all? And we're talking a strictly cash deal, right?"

"Yeah. And hey, long as you don't try to just skedaddle and you stay away from places like the docks, bus depot and airport, I don't care what you do," Trick said with a grin.

Lyle thought about it, and eventually decided, "Done!"

And so soon enough the vampire, the last of the Gorch clan, received his money and the addresses of the Slayers. Lyle just briefly checked some of the non-consecutive serial numbers, and then went about his job for the evening...never realizing how his fellow undead had so thoroughly and shamelessly cheated him.

Sunset Ridge District, Sunnydale. An hour later

Lyle Gorch growled incoherently, for he was not a happy vampire.

He had checked out 1630 Revello Drive, but no one was there that evening; Joyce had gone to LA and was staying overnight on a business trip to do with her gallery, and Buffy was with Angel, telling him of the idea Wesley had come up with earlier that day.

So, with no other choice, he had gone to the Harris-LeHane residence.

Now Lyle had never found out Cordelia Chase was not in fact the second Slayer after Slayerfest '98, and Trick had wrongly assumed that Gorch knew which brunette girl to go out gunning for. So when Lyle saw Cordy leave the house after talking with Faith about her concerns over Xander's future, he pistol-whipped her in the back of the head, and easily caught Ms. Chase before she hit the ground.

"Say good night, darlin'. And by the way, I ain't forgotten how you called me a redneck moron back then! Oh, but this is gonna be so sweet..." Lyle morphed into game face, and sank his fangs into the unconscious girl's neck.

But almost immediately, he stopped. "Hey, you ain't a Slayer! Your blood don't taste no different from those whores I sampled over in Vegas, few days back!"

Still enraged, Lyle bent down to finish her off...but then suddenly reconsidered. "Maybe there's a way I can use this, though..."

Gorch dumped the poor girl into the rental car Trick had provided for him, and laid her out on the back seat. Then he tore off Cordelia's watch, attached it to a handwritten note wrapped around a rock, and hurled it through the front window of Faith's residence.

Laughing wildly, the undead cowboy then just drove off into the night.

Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale. Later that night

A council of war was taking place on what to do.

Faith had found the note at once, and had gone to Slayage HQ to tell Giles and Wesley what had happened. The rest of the gang had then been assembled, and Buffy had been uncomfortably reminded of a similar incident years back, when the vamps had kidnapped Cordy like this to help resurrect the Master...

The blonde Slayer looked over towards Xander, wishing that he could have somehow been kept out of this. Because there was no expression on his face at all – his eyes were blank as well, and he looked calm, as if he was only contemplating a tricky math problem.

But the Buffster knew better by now. Whenever Xander got this way, it reminded the girl of a meditating samurai warrior...just before he went out on a killing rampage, destroying whoever and whatever got in his way.

"You think she's okay?" Willow asked, worried about Cordelia.

"Hopefully," Wes said with brutal honesty. "But then vampires are not exactly well-known for their self-control, when it comes to matters like keeping human prisoners alive and in one piece. No offense, Angel."

"None taken," the brooding one replied absently.

"So what's the plan?" Buffy asked, looking at her father figure.

"We could try just doing what he wants, exchange me for Cordy – and I dust him first chance I get," Faith said, with an angry gleam in her eye.

"No way," Oz said at once.

"Yeah, Oz is probably right. I mean, this guy couldn't be that stupid since he's gone up against us twice before; it's gotta be a trap. He'd have some plan in place to kill you before you ever got the chance to do that..." Buffy said sourly.

"Well, he's supposed to be here at nine. We need to have a plan in place to deal with him and get Cordelia back before then," Giles announced.

"Hey, X," Faith called out. "What's your input on all this?"

Finally, Xander turned his head and joined in the conversation. "Something's not right about all this."

"What do you mean?" Angel asked.

"Doesn't it strike any of you as being more than a little coincidental that a face from the past just shows up in town now, and kidnaps one of us like that? This guy's actions...we're not seeing the big picture here. If I'm right, he's just a drone...and this little stunt is just something to distract us, from whatever is really gonna happen tonight..."

Several faces just looked at one another, wondering how he had ever come up with that scenario. And whether or not he was in fact correct.

"So what do you suggest?" Faith demanded. "Assuming you're right, and hell, you usually are! What, we split up, and try to find out what it is they're distracting us from?"

Slowly, Xander shook his head. "Sunnydale is barely a speck on the map, but there ARE over 30,000 people here. And even if I am right, there's no way we can effectively spread out and cover the entire town, without some sort of clue as to where to even begin. No. Our priority has to be to save Cordelia."

"How?" Wesley asked. "Our opponent isn't going to be foolish enough to just bring her here onto our home ground, is he?"

"Unlikely," Xander ruminated.

"Maybe I should hit the streets, see if I can get lucky," Angel suggested.

"Go," Giles decided. "Faith and Buffy, you go, too; pay a call on Willy. The rest of us will wait here, and hopefully come up with something."

Sunnydale High, Sunnydale. A few hours later

Lyle Gorch had a huge grin on his face, as the dumbass actually walked straight into the lion's den.

There was no doubt of course that the vampire was not one of the greatest thinkers of his time, but his actions were almost stunning in their naiveté. The fool had arrived here, without Cordelia as expected, but with no other backup in sight. It was almost enough to make Xander think a Carlos-style double-cross was in the planning; but he couldn't see how that was possible, under these circumstances.

Lyle just slammed open the library doors, looked around and said, "Where the hell are the goddamn Slayers?"

Willow instantly levitated a number of pencils, aimed at his chest; and so Lyle whipped his personal sidearm out. "Listen up, witch. I don't care about you, I just want them two bitches! So don't try to do nothin', that'll make me hafta blow you away!"

"Let's all just calm down, shall we?" Wesley said quietly. "And nobody need blow anybody away-"

"Where's Cordelia?" Giles demanded of the vampire.

"Where's the Slayers? And I'd advise you to hurry up and answer, fella, my trigger finger's gettin' a mite itchy!"

"You really are a complete moron, aren't you?"

Lyle whirled around, amazed that someone had gotten behind him like that; and then he laughed, seeing a gun aimed at his face. "You think a bullet's gonna stop ME, boy? You're the moron!"

"I stand by my original statement," Xander replied, as both men pointed their pieces at one another. "You see, vampire, there's an old saying about how bad guys don't play by good guy rules. So if you want to win, don't ever bother trying to be some knight in shining armour."

"What in the tarnation you talkin' 'bout, son?" the vamp demanded irritably. "And make it snappy, I ain't got all night!"

"We all know ordinary bullets won't kill vamps, asshole. But see, I don't have ordinary bullets. We're talking about vamp killer ammo being pointed in your face, here."

Lyle laughed evilly. "Ain't no such thing around!"

Xander snorted, "I drilled holes into 'em and put a drop of mercury into the tip, before re-applying liquid lead and shaving the bullets back into their original shape. And when a round like that hits flesh, it doesn't just make a neat little hole; it'll demolish anything and everything in its path. In other words, at this range? Your skull bones are gonna be shattered to pieces, and you end up dust after your head falls apart. Savvy now?"

Lyle would have started sweating, if he could have; the vampire had heard about ammunition like this, such ordnance had been all the rage nearly 30 years back. "You're bluffing. These days, those kinda bullets are illegal as hell! And how the heck would a young punk like you know how to do somethin' like that, anyway?"

Harris smiled, but saw no reason to share the reasons for that sort of knowledge, acquired thanks to Ethan's spell last year. "Newsflash, brains trust. I'm resourceful, and I already told you – I don't play by good guy rules," Xander growled. "Now where's Cordelia?"

There was a tense face-off; precious moments ticked by, as the tension increased to almost unbearable levels...

Suddenly Lyle chickened out, lowering his weapon and slowly backing out of the library before he ran for it.

"Xander, why didn't you just shoot him?" Willow demanded, as they all chased after the bad guy.

"Because then he would have known I was bluffing," Harris admitted.

"WHAT?" more than one voice yelled out. As they were stunned to realize how they'd just been conned that way.

"Hey, I didn't lie; the bullets are real, and they work just fine for a rifle. But pistols are a whole other matter, they're much more likely to explode in your face with that sorta ammo..." Xander explained, as they ran out to the front of the school.

Only to confront Lyle aiming at Buffy, with his six-shooter.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Xander's conventional bullets from his spare gun tore into Gorch's flesh, the pain almost excruciating; which gave Buffy almost all the time in the world to rush forward, and slam a stake into the Texan vampire's heart.

Ashes fell gently down onto the grass, as Lyle Gorch was erased from existence.

"Now what?" Faith demanded, as she got up off the ground – her shoulder bleeding from the Texan's last act in his rather long un-life. Wesley removed his coat and tore strips off to apply to the wound, and let that good old Slayer healing do its job.

"How do we find Cordelia?" the brunette Chosen One then asked.

With no other option Angel took over, using his vampiric sense of smell to try to sniff her out. Oz tried to use his werewolf smelling ability as well; they led the group to the parking lot, and came to the conclusion that Lyle really had been as thick as a brick where it counted. As he'd just left Ms. Chase there in the back seat of the rented car.

Xander checked her pulse; she was still alive. "Hospital, right now!"

The white hats poured into their vehicles, and began an all-too-familiar journey towards Sunnydale General.

Sunnydale Airport, Sunnydale. The same time

At the same runway where Ethan Rayne's plane to New York had taken off months ago, a small jet taxied to a stop and the main doors opened.

A man quickly left the plane, carrying a box that was chained to his wrist. And this was no ordinary box; this was in fact the artifact known as the Box of Gavrock. The final piece necessary in the Mayor's plan to ascend.

A vampire was waiting by a limo with a briefcase. The courier saw the soulless creature and asked, "Is he in the car?"

The bloodsucker just growled incoherently. Mr. Trick, hearing the commotion, got out of the vehicle and said cheerfully, "Greetings, my good man. The Mayor sends his regrets that he couldn't make it in person, but asked that you deal with me instead, in his place..."

The courier just snorted, "Yeah? Well, the price just went up. I don't like surprises!"

Trick sighed, or at least appeared to. "That's what I hate about this country. It's all become just gimme, gimme, gimme – ever since Joe Nameth decided to renegotiate his contract..."

Moving faster than the eye could see, Trick broke the courier's neck – just like he had done with that factory worker, way back when. "I never get tired of doing that!"

The minion searched the corpse, for the keys to the courier's cuffs. "He hasn't got them on him," he reported to his sire.

Trick just shrugged. "No problem," he said, and ripped the arm off the body.

City Hall, Sunnydale. A while later

The limo stopped outside the front of the building, and Trick quickly made his way in to find Richard Wilkins. The dismembered arm dangling from the handcuffs attached to the Box, was a sort of macabre fashion statement...from a certain point of view.

The Mayor, as soon as he saw the package, just raised an eyebrow. "I see you made an offer he couldn't refuse..."

"Or survive," Trick said simply, as he put the box down on the table.

Finally, Richard grinned. "Excellent work. Saved me a bundle not having to pay him!"

Trick bowed his head slightly. "I aim to please."

The Mayor clapped his hands. "Now, what about your old friend Mr. Gorch?"

"Paid him for services to be rendered. Okay, odds are those do-gooders have killed the guy already, but since it obviously distracted them to the point of not interfering with the delivery, I'd say it was money well spent."

"Excellent. Tying up loose ends that way, I have to say...well, it's just that it's wonderful how everyone comes out a winner. Everyone, of course, meaning me!"

Trick started trying to rip off the chain connected to the arm; but thanks to his efforts, the clasp of the Box got loose. The Mayor instantly slammed his hands down on top of the Box and said in a quiet, deadly voice, "Don't do that."

"Why, what's in there?" Trick asked, curious.

"About fifty billion critters, of the type that you REALLY don't want to mess with. Unless, of course," Wilkins indicated himself. "You happen to be invulnerable like myself..."

To Be Continued In Part 7