15

London, England – May 8th 2004

"Angel?" Buffy says the name quietly, almost to herself. She glances over at Faith, a tiny crease in her forehead. "Are you nuts?"

"Hold up B," Faith holds up her hands defensively and shakes her head at the other Slayer. "You said yourself that he was the one that showed up and gave you that amulet thingy. Now you think he's playing for the other side?" Faith snorts and shakes her head again. "And I thought you said you knew the guy."

"Faith," Giles interrupts, seeing the color rising swiftly in Buffy's cheeks and wanting to avoid a brawl in the middle of his office. "Your loyalty to Angel is commendable but the fact remains that he is currently the CEO of the most notorious institution of evil in the western hemisphere." He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes briefly before putting them back on. "We cannot assume that he is on our side."

"Horseshit," Faith pounds the table hard with her fist, startling the others. Her skin is ivory against the black tank top she wears and her eyes glisten with anger. She gets up and starts to pace, her stride full of suppressed anger and nervous energy, like that of a caged lioness. She stops suddenly and glares at Andrew. "You saw him spaz. What did you think?"

Andrew jumps a little at being singled out. "Me? Ahh, well …" he shoots a nervous glance at Giles. "Well he was helpful in locating Dana and when he and Spike were in Rome-"

"What?" Buffy's cheeks are white and her eyes wide with shock. "Angel and SPIKE were in Rome? But …" she turns and looks at Giles aghast. "Spike is alive? And he was in Rome? With Angel?" her voice is nearly a shout.

"Um, well yes," the Head Watcher shoots Andrew a murderous look and then sighs and shakes his head. "It appears Spike is still alive and in Los Angeles."

"But," Willow interrupts with a confused look and her cheeks are pale with shock. "Spike died! He died closing the Hellmouth … didn't he?" She looks at Buffy and then back at Giles. "How is he still alive?"

"I'm afraid it's a rather long story," Giles begins but Andrew interrupts having taken refuge behind the high back of his chair.

"His essence was stored in the amulet and he re-corporealized several months ago."

"Apparently not so long then," Giles says with a wry look at the hiding Watcher. "But it changes nothing. Angel is still running Wolfram and Hart and Spike is for whatever reason still alive and working with him."

"For that matter, Spike's involvement with Angel only reinforces the idea that he's maybe not on the up and up," Robin opines from his seat, earning him a vicious look from Faith. "Faith, I know you have a lot of trust in this Angel character but from what I've heard he's no choir boy and Spike is an opportunist at best. He's gonna just go with the flow."

"And what the fuck would you know about it?" Buffy nearly screams at the black Watcher, springing to her feet. Robin blanches but holds his ground.

"Buffy, you really need to-"

"Not kick your ass from here to Dover?" Buffy finishes for him angrily. The color is rushing back to her cheeks and now she is growing nearly purple with fury.

"Well is he wrong?" Xander asks with a hint of brittleness in his tone. Buffy shifts her gaze to him and the one-eyed man holds up a hand. "I give the guy credit for what he did in Sunnydale but he's not exactly the poster boy for moral virtue Buffy."

Buffy looks around the room and only Faith and the Immortal return her gaze. The Immortal gets to his feet and takes her hand in his gently. Buffy tries to jerk away from him, still with her eyes locked on Robin. The Immortal holds her hand firmly and shakes his head.

"Buffy, please, sit down." She turns to look at him, her eyes flashing dangerously but he simply smiles and repeats his request. "Please, sit." He releases his grip and gestures to her chair politely and the blond Slayer looks around the room again and before resuming her seat huffily. The Immortal sits as well and gestures to Andrew. "Mr. Wells, please continue."

Andrew rises from his refuge behind the chair and blinks uncertainly before getting up and resuming his seat. "Right," he says shakily, still eyeing Buffy warily. "Angel and Spike. Anyhow, from what I saw they didn't seem like they were evil or anything. Angel was power tripping a little maybe but he seemed to genuinely want to help and impress us. I'd say he's still doing what he thinks is right but I can't say absolutely what he thinks that is anymore."

"I'll trust his judgment," Faith says in a low and even tone though she too had been giving Robin a hard look after his comments. She looks up the table at Giles. "Well Giles, what do you think?"

Giles sighs again and looks over to Willow. The witch returns his gaze helplessly, uncertain of what to say next. The Immortal speaks, surprising them all. "We are talking about William the Bloody and Angelus, are we not?"

"You know them?" Buffy swings her gaze to her boyfriend and the Immortal nods fractionally.

"We are old acquaintances," he replies vaguely. He purses his lips thoughtfully and he looks back down at the photo of Kali. The pale tan color of the light cashmere sweater he wears accents the rich chocolate of his skin. Faith is again struck by the uncanny resemblance he bears to Robin. "There is a prophecy. A very ancient one that says the vampire with a soul will play a vital role in the apocalypse for either the side of good or evil. Perhaps this is the time?" He looks askance at the Head Watcher, his expression thoughtful and his hands clasped simply on the table in front of him.

Giles eyes the Immortal thoughtfully and then nods. He glances toward the large window on the south wall of his office. The rich mahogany of the room glows almost with an oily sheen in the mellow light from the shaded lamps lining the wall and the flicker of the fireplace. Giles shivers slightly despite the pleasant warmth of the room. "The Shanshu Prophecy. Yes, I've heard of it." He clears his throat before continuing. "You do know the final result for the vampire in question Tim?" The question comes out as more of a statement.

"Oh yes," the Immortal smiles ruefully and nods. His fingers toy with the expensive pen on the pad of paper in front of them. Despite the obvious importance of the topics being discussed, no one has bothered to take notes. The Immortal clears his throat before continuing. "The vampire with a soul, once he fulfills his destiny, will shanshu."

"What does square dancing have to do with it?" Buffy asks, pushing her own pad aside and trying hard to keep her temper in check. She looks around the room questioningly.

"It's an ancient word Buffy," Giles explains in a tired voice. "Its earliest translations mean 'death' but in this case it means to become mortal and be able to die. The vampire with the soul will once again become mortal."

Buffy is silent for a moment as she takes this in. Only the way she grips her own pen and the whiteness of her knuckles betray her shock. Willow manages to restrain a small gasp and Dawn is staring at Giles with her mouth wide open. "You mean," the younger Summers girl asks in a strained voice, "that either Spike or Angel will become human again?"

Faith's hand twitches briefly and Robin catches the motion. He gives her an odd look but the Slayer just shakes her head at him. Her memory tour with Angel the previous year hadn't just shown her all of Angel's deeds in the long past. She had caught a glimpse of one other memory too; a horrible, heartbreaking and secret memory. It was a memory of one perfect day as a human that no one else knew anything about. A perfect day with Buffy.

"Well the prophecy is fairly vague Dawn," Giles says slowly, inwardly wincing that this subject had come up. "As you know, many of the ancient prophecies tend to be conveniently unspecific and a lot of the time it really depends on the skill of the translator. There are many linguistic nuances and metaphor that tend to-"

"There's the Giles we all know and love," Xander says with a trace of sarcasm. "You can take the tweedy book guy out of the library but you can't take-"

"Thank you Xander," Giles replies tersely. "Anyhow, the point is that you have to take a lot of these prophecies with an enormous grain of salt. Tim," Giles is anxious to steer the conversation back to topic and Buffy's facial expression is all the impetus he needs to move on, "how are you acquainted with Spike and Angel?"

The Immortal shrugs elegantly and Dawn notices that he seems a little tense at the shift back to his past. "It is nothing really. We encountered each other in Rome many years ago and," he shrugs again. "It was a minor encounter truthfully."

"Do you think he's trustworthy?" Buffy asks him quietly.

"Angelus?" The Immortal chuckles. "Not the adjective that springs to mind. But Angel," he pauses and taps his fingers on the polished oak tabletop. "It is hard to say. I would hazard a guess that he wouldn't trust me very much." He pauses again and grins. "I would say that for the task you are talking about he would be completely trustworthy."

"See!" Xander exclaims. "Tim doesn't think we can trust him either. It's like I've been … what?" He shoots a puzzled look at the Immortal. "You think we can trust him?"

"Yes," the Immortal smiles patiently at the young man and then nods to Faith. "I would say your instincts on this are correct Miss Lehane. Though Angel and I are not what I would call friendly, he is a champion. I would state categorically that he is well suited to the task,"

Faith's neck prickles a little at this. She isn't sure how she feels about Tim but she is fairly certain that he holds no love for Angel and the fact that he is so readily agreeing with her about him sends warning signals to the tips of her fingers. However, she can't very well change her mind at this point so she simply nods and resumes her seat. Giles sighs again and checks the clock. "Well we needn't rush a decision today. Let's call it a day and sleep on it shall we?"

xxxxxxx

Faith walks out onto the balcony shivering lightly in the cool spring air of London. She had brushed off Robin's advances claiming an upset stomach but in reality she needed some time alone. Time to think.

Angel and Spike. The vampire with a soul will become mortal again. Lot's to digest and she had wanted very badly to go to Buffy and Dawn's room earlier in the evening to discuss it. Surprisingly, the Immortal had begged off from staying at the Watcher's Headquarters claiming that since he was in London it would be best for him to check on some of the interests he had in the city. Apparently he maintained a flat in St. James Wood and Buffy and Dawn were to move there tomorrow for the duration of their stay. He had seemed to understand instinctively that Buffy needed to be 'sans boyfriend' that evening and had departed with only a chaste kiss on the Slayer's cheek.

"What is he?" Faith had asked Robin absently as they unpacked earlier in the evening. Robin was only wearing his boxers after their shower and had straightened up and stretched before asking. She wasn't looking too obviously but had caught the smooth line of his muscles and the long scar on his stomach in the reflection from the full-sized mirror on the antique wardrobe that stood across from the bed in their room. She felt a stir of lust but fought it off and kept brushing her still damp hair.

"What's who?" Robin replied distractedly. He had decided that he was going to only answer her direct questions after the debacle at the meeting earlier. He knew that Faith highly valued Angel's friendship but hadn't realized how deep his comment had pissed her off until after the meeting. They'd barely exchanged a word other than the bare basics. He'd tried to touch her in the shower but she'd shrugged him off.

"Buffy's guy," Faith said, still trying to sound light. "He's not human."

"No," Robin replied carefully. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed a hand absently over his chin.

"And?" Faith looked at him pointedly in the reflection of the mirror. Finally the Watcher looked up, taking in the pleasant view of her nearly naked form from the back as she brushed out her long dark hair; the slim legs and round curves of her muscles with a pair of flimsy black panties that ended at the slim curve of her abdomen. He shook his head and continued to dress, pulling on a t-shirt.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Giles wasn't too forthcoming on the details." The Watcher paused and frowned slightly. Giles usually was fairly forthcoming with details. "My understanding is that he's a neutral. Not a demon, not a human. He's … I guess he's sort of like a counterweight. He doesn't pull for one side or the other."

"Could you vague that up maybe?" Faith's voice was slightly cross. She turned fully and gave Robin a good look at her half naked body. He didn't fall for it however.

"Babe, I don't know what else to tell you. I don't even know if Giles has the full scoop on him." The Watcher shrugged and turned back to the open suitcase hunting for a pair of socks that Faith hadn't stolen from him. He started pulling them on. "For the rest, your guess is as good as mine."

Her door was only a few steps away after all. Faith glances at her watch. It's only 10 PM. She had tried to locate her cell phone earlier to call Taryn in Cleveland but couldn't find it. To her it felt a lot earlier but she was 6 hours behind. Buffy isn't though. Rome is like an hour ahead. Fuck it. The Slayer slips back through the sliding door quietly and sees that Robin is snoring gently in the bed. She slinks past and goes out into the hallway. She heads down the dimly lit corridor and stops in front of the heavy oak doors of Buffy and Dawn's room. She taps lightly with her nails, almost cringing at the reptilian sound of them on the bare wood. She senses more than hears footsteps coming to the door and it opens to reveal Buffy still fully dressed and with slightly red eyes. The blond Slayer looks at her and then motions her in wordlessly. The other Slayer's room is more of an apartment then a spare room and has its own sitting room. Dawn is sleeping on the low sofa, her face buried deep in the pillow, muffling her snores. Faith stifles a grin and Buffy motions her toward the open door of the bedroom. The two Slayers move inside and Buffy closes the door behind her. She sits on the bed and Faith sees the crumpled tissues next to the waste basket that the other Slayer hadn't quite reached after blowing her nose or whatever she'd been doing. Faith sits in a low chair across from her and surveys the lush room with a small pang of jealousy. The carpets are lush and thick and the moldings are obviously hand carved. "Nice digs B."

Buffy gives her a wan smile and pushes a stray lock of her hair back. "Friends in high places I guess." She had meant it to sound humorous but her voice was weak and plaintive.

"Must be rough," Faith replies lightly. She's aghast however when Buffy suddenly breaks down and starts weeping in front of her. The dark-haired Slayer gets up and moves to the bed, awkwardly wrapping an arm around the other girl as Buffy buries her head in Faith's neck and sobs hard. "Hey," Faith tries to comfort her but is uncertain of what else to say. After a moment Buffy gets her control back and wipes her cheeks with a shamefaced grin.

"Sorry. Girl moment. I'm all good now. What's up?"

Faith ponders this. Why exactly had she come here? Angel. She wants to tell Buffy everything about what she had seen in Angel's memory but figures the other Slayer really didn't need that kind of emotional hit right now. She decides to be diplomatic instead. "Well, I figured you'd be a little thrown. The whole 'Spike's alive' thing had to be a bit of a toss for ya'."

"You're not wrong," Buffy grumbles quietly and casts a look at the wastebasket. "It was a little bit of a shock to say the least."

Faith shifts uncomfortably, not sure of what to say next. She's never been big on the girl talk. Finally she clears her throat. "Maybe its okay to cy about some stuff B. Maybe that's how we finish things sometimes." She searches for more words, trying to figure it out even as she speaks. "Maybe it's about making things clean. I guess tears are sorta the way our brain lets things go sometimes."

"Maybe," Buffy coughs lightly to get the lump out of her throat. "I guess we all need to clear out the crap in our heads once in a while."

Faith traces a small line in the carpet with her big toe. Her sock has a hole in it where her nail has sliced the fabric. "What's the deal with this Tim guy?" she asks as casually as she can.

Buffy sighs and shrugs irritably. "Shit, I don't know. He's great really." Buffy hesitates but continues despite herself. "We met while Dawn and I were searching for an apartment. He knew a guy and well," she shrugs again. "He got us a place and we sort of …" she trails off. Faith lets her leave it at that and sighs.

"Fuckin' guys," she gives the other Slayer a wry grin. "You know, before I met Robin I used to think that there was no way I'd ever find a decent guy. It was like I thought I didn't deserve one I guess. Most of the guys I ran with thought 'hey, does this rag smell like chloroform?' was a great pick-up line."

"Tell me about it," Buffy snorts. "I'm not exactly the poster girl for sane relationships if you hadn't noticed."

"Riley was a bit of alright though," Faith says absently, then cringes inwardly. The memory of her own "experience" with Riley was probably still a sore spot with Buffy. "I mean, he was pretty of the normal, wasn't he?"

Buffy gives Faith a sardonic look and then leans back on her arms on the edge of the bed. "Sure, if being a commando in a secret demon-fighting branch of the military and being juiced up by a crazy professor counts as normal."

"You know what I mean," Faith says quietly.

"Yeah," Buffy sighs again and then sits back up. "I suppose I do."

"So what do you think?" Faith asks, taking out her cigarettes and lighting one. She blows out a cloud of smoke and gazes at the other Slayer over the waft of it. "About Spike and Angel helping?"

"I think I need to sleep on it," Buffy stretches and gives Faith's cigarette a sour look which the other Slayer ignores. She then gives Faith a quizzical look. "And why are you so sure it's a good idea? Something to do with that brain tour you took with Angel last year?"

"Something like that," Faith says and takes another drag on her cigarette. "What makes you think it's a bad idea?"

"I don't know," Buffy gets to her feet and moves over to the window, gazing out at the London night. Her own reflection looks tired and wan in the double paned glass. "It's hard to keep my feelings separate from the facts I guess and with Spike in the mix," she shrugs again bitterly. "I guess it's just me trying to figure out how I feel about them."

"Them?" Faith cocks her head to the side and makes a rude gesture with her hand.

"Not like that," Buffy turns and this time she grins. "Pervert."

"Tell me you haven't thought about it." Faith replies with a grin of her own.

"Well there was this one time, and there was oil," Buffy muses and then breaks off embarrassed. "Okay skankorama, time for you to take your one-track gutter back to your room."

"Fair enough." Faith looks around and sees an empty soda can on the dresser. She drops her cigarette into it and lets Buffy walk her to the door. "See ya tomorrow I guess."

"Sure," Buffy hesitates for a second. "Faith?"

"Yeah?" the brunette Slayer turns and looks back.

"Thanks."

16

London, England – May 8th 2004

Willow lays back on the bedspread, her mind churning over the events of the day. It was a lot to take in and she had been glad when Buffy and Dawn had begged off her and Kennedy's invitation to a late supper claiming they were too tired. Willow had the impression that Buffy needed some alone time to deal with the news of Spike still being alive and in truth, she needed to figure some things out as well.

When the gang had arrived in San Francisco after Sunnydale had been destroyed, they had all taken some time to regroup. For Buffy and Dawn there had been a frenzy of expeditions to the mall with the insurance money from the house. Willow and Kennedy had taken a quick trip to the East Coast to Kennedy's parent's summer home in the Hamptons. A few days of walking the late spring beaches of Long Island had put a few things in perspective and when they had arrived back in San Francisco the group had started to make their plans. Now it was a year later and it seemed that everything they had done and accomplished over the past 12 months was all just an interlude.

Kennedy comes out of the bathroom, a white terrycloth robe covering her still shower fresh form and a large fluffy towel wrapped turban like over her dark hair. She gives Willow a sweet smile and plops down on the bed beside her. Willow instinctively reaches for the Slayer's hand and she rolls over on her stomach to look at her girlfriend directly.

"See something green?" Kennedy asks lightly, a little flushed and flattered by her girlfriend's obvious pleasure at seeing her even though she'd only gotten in the shower 20 minutes ago.

"Just thinking," Willow replies and worms over the bed slightly to rest her head on Kennedy's lap. The Slayer strokes Willow's long red tresses and gets a kittenish sigh of pleasure in response. "You know, it's been great this past year hasn't it?"

"The best," Kennedy affirms, now running a thumb along the curve of Willow's neck. She leans down and is rewarded with a soft kiss.

Willow seems to hesitate for a moment and then turns over, removing her head from the Slayer's lap, and lies on her side, her head supported by one arm and looks at Kennedy wistfully. "After Tara died I went a little nuts," Kennedy's stomach tightens a little at the mention of Tara's name. One of her deepest insecurities was the thought that Willow secretly was constantly comparing her to her dead lover and that she could never meet those expectations. Willow doesn't seem to notice however and continues. "There was a part of me that I thought died with her that day. There were feelings and dreams that I thought I could never have again and I guess that was sorta true."

Kennedy flinches noticeably at that but Willow takes her hand again gently and kisses it. "Let me finish. What I had with Tara, I never had that with anyone else. She knew me in ways that I didn't think were possible. But after," she gives Kennedy a beautiful tiny smile, "After I met you. The way you looked at me and the way you trusted me, even after-" she pauses and Kennedy brings Willow's hand up to her own mouth and kisses her palm. Willow's smile broadens. "I'll never forget Tara. Not ever. But loving you is something else, something wonderful. I don't tell you that enough."

Kennedy feels the lump that had been rising in the back of her throat nearly choke her and she bends down to kiss the witch. Their lips meet gently at first but soon Willow's mouth opens to her and Kennedy slides her body down, her hands first finding the long mane of Willow's hair and then sliding down to caress her bare arms and shoulders. Willow gives a little moan into Kennedy's mouth and slides her own hands along her girlfriend's neck and then down inside the robe, the feeling of her fingers running along the Latina's hot honey colored flesh causing her own skin to prickle with excitement. Kennedy starts to shrug off her robe when a low knock comes at the door to their room.

Willow curses under her breath and starts to rise but Kennedy pushes her back down and nuzzles her neck. "Ignore it," she whispers against the witch's tingling flesh. The knock comes again however, this time followed by Xander's low voice.

"Will? You awake?"

Willow groans and pushes Kennedy off of her. The Slayer mutters something in Spanish that sounds mildly obscene and then pulls her robe closed and gets up to go back to the bathroom. Willow shakes her head and then gets up to answer the door. She opens it to see Xander standing at the entrance, still fully dressed with a bottle of wine and glasses perched on a tray. "Hey," he says quietly, giving her a sheepish smile. "You busy?"

"Not anymore," Kennedy says archly, sweeping out of the washroom again with a brush and sits on the bed in front of the mirror, her hair no longer wrapped in the towel but damp against her neck. She gives Xander a sour smile and starts brushing her hair.

"Oh," Xander replies, a bit startled. He looks at Willow's flushed cheeks and notes the aggressive way that Kennedy seems to be brushing out her hair. "Oh," he says again, this time with a tone of understanding and embarrassment. "Hey, look, if I'm interrupting anything I can go. I mean-"

"Don't sweat it," Willow tells him, almost half meaning it. "What's up?"

"Well, I'd just thought that, you know, since we haven't seen each other in a while we should," he pauses again uncertainly. "You know, this is a bad time. We'll get caught up another time."

"Don't be a dork," Willow tells him and opens the door wider. She turns and gives Kennedy an apologetic glance and the Slayer purses her lips slightly and then smiles.

"Yeah come on in Xander. It's good to see you and we should catch up."

"Well if you're sure-" Xander still seems uncertain.

"Oh stop being so friggin' polite and come in already or I'm shutting that door and jumping my girlfriend," Kennedy says in mock exasperation but gives the carpenter a grin.

"Right," Xander grins back and comes inside. He sets the tray down on the small writing desk in the corner and fishes in his pocket for a corkscrew. He opens the bottle of merlot and pours three glasses, handing one to each of his hosts before taking the last one for himself. He sits down in the chair at the desk and Willow and Kennedy both take seats on the edge of the bed. "Well, here's to us," he says somewhat lamely. "The Scooby Gang."

The three of them all raise their glasses and take a sip. Willow is studying Xander carefully, not sure why he seems to be so edgy. "So did you come all this way just to get us drunk or were we gonna talk?" She asks him lightly.

Xander doesn't reply immediately and Willow frowns and gets to her feet. She takes the glass from Xander's hand and then immediately plops down on his lap. She lifts his chin with her finger and gives him a small frown. "No pouting aloud," she tells him with mock gravitas.

"Sorry," he grins at her sheepishly and brushes a stray hair from her cheek with his hand. "I guess it just sort of hit me hard today, all of us here and together. I-" he gives a frustrated little shrug and sighs. "I guess when I was in Africa, searching around and trying not to get eaten by lions, a lot of stuff just didn't seem so real. Now we're back and everything and there's all these plans and people taking on responsibilities and I sorta feel as useful as a burger stand at a vegan rally."

"Oh come on," Willow says with mild amusement. "You're the one that found this for us Xander. You're the reason we're all here for Pete's sake."

"Yeah, I know," Xander says with a wry smile. He picks up his glass and takes a sip. "I guess I just didn't expect everything to be so different now. Buffy's shacked up with some old guy who may or may not be evil … okay, that part's not different, but here's you, Deputy Head of the Watcher's Council and Faith and Robin are guarding the Hellmouth in Cleveland and training Slayers and even Andrew seems like he's got this whole new gig and what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Horseshit," Kennedy snorts from her seat on the bed and both Willow and Xander give her a surprised look. "You have friends that love you, the respect of the entire Council, hell, even the girls we're training down in Brazil can't hear enough about you."

"Really?" Xander perks up almost immediately and leans forward, almost spilling Willow onto the floor. The witch gets up and gets her wine glass before taking a seat back on the bed next to Kennedy. "They ask about me?"

Kennedy laughs and finishes off her wine. "Oh yeah," she gives him a sidelong grin. "Willow was showing them all some pictures from Sunnydale and the girls were all going gaga over the tall man with the rugged good looks."

"Yeah," Willow grins and scrunches her lips. "And some of them even left off looking at Riley and asked about you."

"Gee thanks Will," Xander replies but there is humor in his voice now and he seems pleased.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," she tells him and then points at the door. "Now if we're done with the ego stroking, get the heck out of my room so I can get some sleep."

"Gotcha," Xander gets up and heads for the door. Willow follows him and as he's about to leave he turns suddenly. "Will?"

She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly before letting go and touching his cheek with her fingers. "You're welcome."

17

Cleveland Ohio – May 12th, 2004

Taryn begins to swim out of the fog of unconsciousness feeling distinctly like a large hammer made of Silly-Putty is trying to split her skull open and it causes her to groan. Her throat and mouth feel gummy and she swallows painfully a few times before attempting to open her eyes. The overhead fluorescents flicker painfully in her vision and she blinks a few times, trying to piece together where she was. The last thing she can remember was being inside a warehouse near Browns Stadium.

The Slayer turns her head slightly, a wave of nausea running through her and causing her to shudder and close her eyes tightly for a moment. She slowly opens them again and sees that she is what appears to be some sort of medical infirmary. She attempts to sit up but realizes that there are thick leather straps with banded metal running through them securing her firmly to the bed she is lying on. Taryn tries to focus her thoughts but she still feels extremely woozy and muddled. After a moment she decides that she must be drugged somehow. She turns her head again, this time trying to examine her arm. In her left forearm between the straps securing her wrist and elbow she spots the IV needle. The Slayer grunts and once again tries to take in her surroundings. To her left there is a white linen curtain that seems to separate her from another bed. Past the foot of her bed is a low stainless steel table that has several clipboards and a few vials on it. To her right is an institutional looking cement wall painted white with a backlight for x-rays. Beside that is a heavy wooden door with a wire mesh embedded window. Taryn is about to try calling out to see if anyone is in the room when the door opens briskly and a short, bearded man in his mid to late 40's with a white laboratory coat enters, moving toward the table at the foot of her bed and picking up one of the clipboards to examine it.

"Where am I?" Taryn manages to croak and the bearded man looks up and sees that she is awake. He gives her a smile that seems far too broad to be genuine.

"Well hello. I see that you're awake." He walks away from the table and past the edge of the white curtain and out of her line of sight. He returns a moment later with a large plastic squeeze bottle that has a long flexible straw on top. He offers it to her and Taryn sucks at it hungrily for a moment, feeling blessed cool water enter her parched mouth and throat. The man takes it away after a few seconds, giving her a friendly shake of his head. "Not too much too quickly dear. I'll give you some more in a moment."

"Where am I?" Taryn repeats, her voice much clearer now that she's had some liquid to soothe her dry tongue and throat.

"A private clinic," The man gives her another of his huge, phony smiles. "My name is Dr. Tanner. You were admitted several hours ago after being heavily gassed by a very potent tranquilizer. To be honest, I'm quite surprised that you are awake this soon. The dose you received would have been sufficient to kill most human adults." He narrows his gaze through his square spectacles and gives her a wry grin. "But you aren't all that normal are you?"

Alarm bells start in the back of Taryn's mind but the fog of drugs and grogginess keep them muted and in the background. She snorts and uses one of her fingers to indicate the water bottle. Tanner nods and allows her another drink before taking it away. He then pulls a small penlight from his pocket and shines it in both her eyes causing Taryn to wince before replacing it in his breast pocket and then picking up her chart again to make a note. "Where are Kara and Angela?" Taryn manages after a moment of thought. She knows that something very bad is taking place but for some reason she just can't manage to make it seem important or relevant.

"Sleeping," Dr. Tanner replies before coming over and squinting at the IV drip above her. He taps the tube a couple of times with his pen and then makes a small adjustment to the drip. Almost immediately Taryn feels herself become more lightheaded. The acoustical tile above her swims out of focus for a moment and she loses all feeling in her extremities. "What do you want with me?" she hears her voice ask but it sounds distant and unimportant.

"Myself?" Tanner's voice sounds remote too and Taryn finds it difficult to concentrate on his words. "Well personally I'd love to run about a thousand tests and find out some of the secrets of your marvelous immune and healing capabilities. I'd expect your metabolism and gland structure would be equally amazing. I'm a scientist first and foremost after all and from what Mr. Rayne has told me about you girls thus far, I must admit that I'd find it endlessly fascinating. Fortunately for you, Mr. Rayne wants you in one piece. For now at any rate," his face is difficult to keep in focus now and Taryn's mind seems to want to float away on all these whimsical trips. An hour ago (or was it just a few seconds?) she'd found herself being sucked up into one of the holes in the acoustical tile above her and exploring the dark. She shakes her head slightly to try and clear the cobwebs that seem to have enveloped her mind and attempts to process what the doctor had just told her. One word seems to stand out.

"Rayne? Where is he?"

"Gone back to headquarters I'd imagine," Tanner replies in an offhand tone. He takes out a syringe and injects it into her IV. Taryn feels the world falling away to blackness and hears the doctor's voice coming from what seems to be a great distance. "You'll be seeing him soon enough."