Disclaimer: Absolutely no one is owned by me in this part (as far as I can recall).

Author's Note: (sighs) Not much action, but plenty of plot movement. Hope you like it!

Author's Note 2: Well, got my test back...and I almost failed it. (glowers at Muses) Thanks to them!

Twilight Unicorn: The Vampiric Unicorn (who's now keeping a very close eye on the story's outline to make sure her Muses don't forget anything again!)

Part 20

Seacouver: Methos' Apartment, 7:07pm, Day 7

Methos cursed as he quickly took the food he was cooking away from the burner and turned off the stove to go answer the telephone. As he rushed to the phone in the hall and answered it, he thought, I really need to remember to take this thing with me when I'm cooking…or in the shower!

Grabbing the incessantly ringing instrument and pressing the On button, the ancient Immortal said, "Hello?"

"Hey, Adam, it's Joe. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Joe Dawson inquired.

"Not really," Methos answered as he moved back towards the kitchen. "I'm just fixing a late dinner. I got side-tracked by something, and didn't remember to eat until a few minutes ago by my stomach growling."

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I've got some news that you need to hear."

Methos paused in the middle of turning the gas stove back on, and asked cautiously, "What news?"

"The Tribunal have looked over the stuff we sent them on the renegade group, and they want to do a trial on the Awakener guys right away." Joe hesitated, then added, "There's a slight problem, though: they've decided that I'm to host the trial at my bar…which'll be in two days."

"What?" the Immortal exclaimed. "Why?"

In his shock and alarm, Methos accidentally pulled the knob he was turning off of the stove. Immediately, he began attempting to put the knob back in place frantically. As he silently did this, Joe continued talking, "Yeah, that was what I said when they told me. Apparently, since the "Ancient One" has gotten himself involved in this mess, they want you to stand as witness and possibly even judge if they can't find someone to do it. They said something about this not just being a Watcher matter, but an Immortal one as well."

Methos had given up on the stove knob when he had heard a cracking sound and was now rummaging in his tool drawer for a pair of pliers, and commented, "Okay, did they say why it might be in my area of expertise?"

"They wouldn't say, except that they'll give the reason in the trial. (frustrated sigh) Anyway, the Tribunal and Awakeners will be arriving tomorrow, and the day after we're supposed to have it. Oh: Wesley and Fred will be at this thing as witnesses, too."

With a triumphant expression, Methos finally pulled out the pliers and turned back to the stove. Kneeling, he slowly began turning the stub that would normally hold the knob. This was made extremely difficult by the fact that the stub had years of grease caked on it. As he did this, the Immortal said, "Alright, you've warned me. I'll keep it in mind when I see them. Anything else?"

The Immortal heard the previously muffled sounds of chatter rising, and the thudding of a door closing, before Joe said, "Yeah, there is. Could you come down and help out around here? It's the weekend, and we're short on staff."

The pliers slipping once more, Methos answered, "Sure. I'll be there once I've eaten…which should be no later than eight."

Joe breathed an audible sigh of relief, and said gratefully, "Thanks, you're a life-saver! I'll see you shortly, then"

"See you," Methos said, and turned off the phone.

Determination in his eyes, Methos placed the pliers on the stub, and – with a two-handed grip – turned the stubborn object.

click. click. click. cl—
WHOOSH!
blaring fire alarm. blaring fire alarm. blaring fire alarm. bl—

"Gods blast it!"

Seacouver: Methos' Apartment, 7:48pm, Day 7

The Immortal threw the last of his clean rags – now soiled with soot – into the clothes hamper, and groaned as he heard the phone. Rushing back to the kitchen—where he had left the telephone, Methos answered the instrument with a curt, "Whoever's calling better have a good reason!"

"Hello to you to, mate" Spike's voice replied dryly, the sounds of a busy bar sounding in the background.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Immortal Watcher asked, "What do you want Spike?"

"Joe's told me that you'll be comin' in soon, and I was wonderin' if you could check up on Nibblet for me on your way 'ere."

Sitting down in the chair beside the telephone, Methos said, "I take it Dawn stayed at Mac's loft. She still not feeling too great then?"

"Yeah, she's still reelin' from sensin' wha' 'er parents did in tha' 'ealin' of theirs. Truth be told: I'm not too steady on my feet either. At least I'm not dizzy tha moment I stand, like she is," the vampire admitted.

The Immortal frowned in thought, before saying darkly, "I'm going to somehow get a hold of Whistler, torture that demon, and have him tell me what exactly he knows about Dawn and what she is now. That girl's been through enough. This bond between her and her family is becoming too strong. If she had collapsed as she did in the middle of battle…who knows what might have happened!"

"I know," Spike agreed. "Sensing the bond between a vampire and their mate's just fine…it's supposed ta be like that. But sensin' all tha family's not right."

"It might have something to do with more than blood," Methos mused. "Remember: I was affected momentarily as well. This might be connected to the Swords."

"If that's so, how come I was affected?"

"That's easily explained—if we go by my theory: you're bound by blood and bond to three out of four of the Sword's bearers. Thus, whatever happens to us will affect you, too."

Spike was silently thoughtful for a moment, then said slowly as he assimilated Methos' concept, "Yeah, you're right. But I'd like ta know f'r sure. (loud burst of noise) Listen, I need ta get back out front. You will check on Dawn, right?"

"I will," the Immortal agreed.

"Good," the vampire said, then hung up.

Turning off the phone, Methos leaned back in the hall chair, and breathed out heavily through his nose. A second later, he sniffed and glanced down at his clothes. Muttering to himself, he stood, and stripped off his soot-covered and smoke-smelling sweater to change into something clean.

Seacouver: Outside Methos' Apartment, 8pm, Day 7

Methos cursed as he locked his front door, his mind going ten million different ways at once.

I should've already been at Joe's! Damn, I still need to stop by Mac's before going to the bar and make sure Dawn's doing alright. I also need to wrangle more info out of Joe about this trial. No doubt he has an email detailing what he needs to do.

As the Immortal turned around to go to his car, he stilled. He felt he was not alone as his eyes flickered about scanning his surroundings. As he took a cautionary step away from his apartment and pocketed his keys, a shadow from within the shadows shifted and moved away from its counterparts. The shadowed silhouette of a person revealed itself to be a woman with long dark wavy locks and the look of one entranced as she moved towards him.

Dark luminous eyes gazed intently at Methos as the woman drew closer. In a low and hauntingly lyrical voice, she said, "White horse and pale rider there were. The white horse is gone…dead. What has happened to the pale rider? To the Light has he gone!"

The Immortal watched through slitted eyes as the woman came to a stop before him and stood there with her head tilted to the side. In a flat voice, Methos said, "Drusilla, I presume?"

The vampiress smiled coyly as she gazed at him through her eyelashes. She moved closer until she was only inches apart from him, her expression becoming one of acute hunger as she sniffed.

"So much death," Drusilla murmured as she plucked at Methos' sweater. Then said in growing excitement, "You reek of innocents' blood!"

Without any warning, the vampiress lunged upward and grabbed the Immortal's head. With great intensity, she pressed her lips against his in a savage kiss as she fully moved her body flush against him.

Almost the moment it started, the kiss ended as Methos growled low in his throat and shoved the woman away from his being. She landed ungracefully on the ground as he drew his sword on her in one fluid motion.

Breathing heavily, the ancient Immortal snarled in outright fury, "Touch me again, bitch, and you die!"

She did not look at him as she began to laugh eerily, before slowly rising to her feet. Looking through a curtain of hair, her eyes were crazed as she said triumphantly, "'Twill not be you who kills me, Earth's Champion! I have Seen it!"

His eyes narrowed to mere slits, Methos asked abruptly, "Why have you come to me, vampire?"

Keeping a ten foot distance between herself and the Immortal as she slowly circled him as a predator would their prey, Drusilla said with chilling sanity and meticulous calculation, "You will tell my Childe that five days hence, I will meet with him in the park at this time. There, the final choice will be made. Will he return to me, or become one of the Forsaken? Should he take the way of the Forsaken, I will destroy his mate as recompense for his rebellion and name him outcast from our kind."

With those words, Drusilla turned away from him and walked back the way she had come…melding with the shadows once more.

Seacouver: Duncan MacLeod's Loft, 8pm, Day 7

Dawn lay asleep in bed, her hair a tangled mess from a restless slumber. She shifted and moved, a moan escaping her. Turning onto her back, the young woman began to unconsciously search for something with one hand near her head. She encountered the dagger under her pillow and stilled. With a shocked and fearful gasp, her eyes snapped open suddenly as she awoke to the knowledge that she was in danger. A hand flew to cover Spike's bite mark as it tingled…and knew what the threat was.

An Immortal was nearby.

Whimpering, the young Slayer sat up quickly, then slammed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as the world tilted and rolled. Her stomach settling and adrenalin rushing through her, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing for dear life to anything that would steady her, she slowly stood and made her way to her suitcase. When she reached it, Dawn was shaking and gasping for breath.

She slipped out of her nightshirt and into her exercise clothes while tying her hair back messily as swiftly as she could between bouts of dizziness. She skipped putting on shoes, knowing that if she bent forward that far she'd faint. Grabbing her sword, Dawn carefully made her way to the loft's elevator. As the mechanical structure descended, she positioned herself in a back corner with her sword raised. When she reached the ground floor, the Immortal Slayer used the bit of magic she had been able to learn from Willow and Tara, and levitated the elevator door open. Tensing, she waited for an attack.

Nothing happened, then an amused female voice spoke.

"You can come out of there, child. I won't harm you. I only wish to talk."

Sidling up to the entryway, Dawn cautiously looked into the dojo to see a woman with long dark frizzed hair gazing at her from the middle of the large room, one hand on her hip as she played with a large crystal pendant hung from a white gold chain about her neck. She was dressed in low-slung white designer jeans and a silver silk top with white embroidery on it in an ancient tribal pattern, while her feet were shod in simple gray tennis shoes. No possible hiding place for a sword could be seen on her…but the Slayer knew that appearances could be very deceiving. There was a knowing look in the woman's almost black eyes and a bitter smirk tracing her lips as she said, "You are definitely his student. You move with the same caution that he taught all his students after he left them."

Easing out of the elevator while keeping her back against the wall for protection and support, Dawn deducted, "I'm guessing you're Cassandra."

Gracefully inclining her head far more regally than any royal could, the older Immortal replied simply, "Yes."

"Why do you want to talk to me," the young Immortal asked warily, her stance one of someone ready to defend themselves…or run at a moments notice.

Crossing her arms before her, Cassandra said, "I have seen you in vision, child, and I wanted to view you in person. For what I saw in vision could not have been…and as I look at you, I see I was right."

Her expression confused, Dawn said the only thing she could think of, "Huh? What're you talking about?"

Uncrossing her arms and moving closer to Dawn, the older Immortal woman said through narrowed eyes, "In a dream I saw a full grown woman of unquestionable beauty and power, wielding a ruby sword. All followed her words…and the killings ended." She stopped in front of Dawn, her gaze shrewd. "You cannot possibly be the one from my vision, for you are too young and possess not the power I saw and felt. Yet, my senses and instincts tell me you are this woman."

Dawn slowly shifted sideways down the wall to put more distance between herself and the other Immortal, and said with forced bravado, then growing anger, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Why don't you just get to the point of your reason for being here, huh? I know you're here for Adam, 'cause he told me and showed me your letter to him. He also warned me about the mind-games you like playing on the unwary. So don't think I'm gonna be easy prey for you. I've already had that happen in my life, and I'm not lettin' it happen again!"

The older Immortal tilted her head to the side, and gazed for long seconds at Dawn. She took in the young Immortal's defiant stance, the fiery flash of her dark sea-blue eyes, the sense of presence…and smirked faintly.

"There's the woman of my vision," Cassandra murmured quietly to herself. She then said domineeringly as she straightened and cast aside her non-threatening demeanor to reveal the ancient Immortal warrior she was, "Very well. You wish to know my purpose here, and this I shall say to you: tell that murderous rapist that we shall conclude our business five days hence, at this same time in the dock warehouse district."

With those words, the older Immortal turned around and left the building with a determined stride, not even bothering to look behind her when she heard the clattering of a sword hitting the ground. In shock at what had just happened, Dawn slid down the wall behind her, and numbly watched the diminishing woman's back.

In two separate places at the same moment in time, two Warriors unknowingly thought and vowed the same exact thing.

I will not let her/him face this. It will be me she will deal with when the time comes!

Next Part: Sunnydale. Cuteness, arrivals, and dreams. What more can I say?

Author's Responses to Reviewers
To Terilyn4: Yeah, "virtual writing machine" definitely describes what I've become! I'm actually wishing my Muses would slow down now, 'cause I'm starting to miss stuff (as was seen in the last part's fiasco!).

To El Chacal: (w/out really looking at what's written) Wow, long review. (now blushing madly after reading it) Geeze, if you gave me any more praise I'd be floating off the ceiling! Apocalyptic Showdown: Not really, that'll be the third story. Quinton-Giles: Heh, another "I had the basic idea and the Muses ran away with it" moments. Glad you liked! Pandora's Box: (whimpers) Oh, no...You've given the Muses another idea! As for Lord of the Rings: I'm an avid fan (I'm just too scared to attempt writing in that 'verse...YET!). Seacouver: Well, you've now seen some of what's happenin'! Yes, Cassandra knows about the other three Champions (it's in the letter she sent Methos in Part 16). I think I answered your Cassandra-Dawn question in this part, dear! Tara's Family: don't exactly understand what you're asking, could you explain it a little better? Halfrek: you pretty much got it right on the nose, but she really is necessary for his plans (as you'll see soon enough!). Olivia: Sorry, not gonna be seeing her. The "missing" characters: Gunn and Oz were on Anya and baby duty at the hospital (Xander was there as well), the rest were all in the fight and then at the Magic Box...believe me, they were there! Maybe I should send you my Who's Where chart on where all the characters are at a given moment. That thing's constantly changing! Byzantine Order: in my mind, they've all been slaughtered by Glory. Dora: (looks around shifty-eyed) Umm...can't really give you an answer on that one without ruining the plot. The deceased: I might do side-stories on that. We'll see. Your story: I'm a little too busy to do a good and proper job of what you're asking right now (I'm a little meticulous in that regard), but when things calm down, I'll give it a look. Promise!

To Harry2: (first review) The Box: (gleaming eyes as she says as smugly as a fox in the hen house) yeah, it is, isn't it? Quinton: (rolls eyes in disgust) Believe me when I say I wish I had! Unfortunately, he's necessary for the final story of this trilogy, so he needs to live. (grimace) The only hint I'll give is it deals with the Watchers Council and their probationary period being up. (second review) (looks over at Muses cowering en masse in absolute terror in a corner) I think we've browbeaten them into behaving now. Help: (soothingly) additional support's coming, don't worry! Cassandra-Faith: (imagine many sharp, pointed weapons coming in a barrage towards you, as TU speaks in aggrieved annoyance) Will you quit it about those two! The situation's not changing with them, so stop bugging me about it! Geeze! (calms down and becomes thoughtful) Know what? Let's make a deal: you stop harping on this, and once I've finished writing this trilogy, I'll go back to the first story and write the offshoot I've considered where Faith isn't dead. Deal? Who knows, maybe we could collaborate on it, 'cause I'll definitely need someone to help me not make it mirror the original (as well as give me a fresh perspective)! What do you say?

Can't think of anything else to really talk about, so I'll see you all in the next installment! --TU