Chapter Four

"Over here! Over here!" Alec yelled, grabbing Buffy's hand and tugging her toward another gelatinous puddle of ick. She dragged her feet, but the kid on a mission was stronger than some demons she'd met.

Knowing that there was a war on its way, Buffy had been trying to help Alec collect some "colors" so that he'd have something to occupy his time when she effectively put everyone on lockdown while the violence raged outside their doors.

She was regretting her little act of charity now…

"That really doesn't look safe."

"It's fine. It's just a lu-lubr-cant," Alec said, stumbling over the big word. "My dad said so."

Alec's dad had worked in the last factory in the area and had taken a job doing maintenance on Greely's droids after it closed down. He'd died the year before Buffy ended up there - one of the many caught up in the random acts of violence that had plagued the area before she'd done something about it. Alec didn't bring him up often, but when he did it was in that unflinching, resilient way that only kids could manage.

"What happened to all that paint I had Bal bring you?"

He shrugged as he bent over the puddle and scraped a little container through it.

"Used it."

"You used all that paint and I didn't get a picture out of it?"

"High demand."

Buffy gave a surprised laugh. Really, it was true. While his work still had a childish edge to it, much like Alec himself his pictures held a depth and a beauty that people were drawn to. Guess he had to operate on a first come, first serve basis…

"Okay, that's it," he said, standing and putting the little jar into his bag. "Got 'em all."

Buffy gave an exaggerated sigh and slumped. "Finally. You took like a gazillion years."

"Old people aren't supposed to say stuff like that," Alec giggled as he hopped over a few piles of debris.

"Old?!" Buffy squeaked. "Why you-"

Alec let out a peal of laughter and sprinted away as Buffy gave chase, threatening a tickling of epic proportions. She'd just scooped Alec up over her shoulder, gasping an unintelligible submission, when she felt it.

Something was there… Something…

She lowered him to the ground, his chatter and squirming fading to the background as her eyes swept their surroundings.

A harsh yellow gaze met hers from a window high up in a building across from them. She picked out the details immediately – the red skin; the horns; the black tattoos that would remind her of Bal if they hadn't been so sharp and invasive. But those things where just noted in passing. What really caught her attention was what she felt.

This wasn't a criminal or a guy looking to pick a fight - this was something completely different. A dark power like nothing she'd felt since she'd been there washed over her, kicking senses that had been dormant for a year into sudden overdrive. Her body positively hummed as she stared back into those yellow eyes. This was what-

"Buffy?"

Alec's small, scared voice jerked her attention away from the window. She blinked down at him for a moment before she forced out a smile and patted his head with a hand that was almost shaking.

"Sorry, kid, got distracted."

"By the scary man?"

"Yeah, by the scary man," she said softly, glancing back up at the window.

He wasn't there anymore, but Buffy swore she could feel his eyes on her as she ushered Alec home.


The building's common area was quiet - the residents that were left were subdued. War had come to the Factory District and it was uglier than anyone had been prepared for. Well, anyone but Buffy. But even for her, the past few days had been hard. She was used to the war of good versus evil, killing over nothing more than greed was somehow even more terrible and pointless to her.

She'd managed to get a lot of families out before the worst of the attack came – calling in every favor she had and spending every spare credit. The only ones that remained were the ones that had family that worked for Slavis Greely and had refused to go.

And Bria and Alec.

Her eyes ticked to the center of the room where Alec was painting with an audience. For someone that liked sneaking out and pretending to be bigger and more grown up than he was, he was remarkably unruffled by pretty much being locked away for days on end. But Buffy wasn't complaining – his good spirits were keeping the rest of the people calm.

For now at least.

The twitchiness would set in soon. For Buffy, it had set in almost as soon as she'd shut that fancy door to the outside the last time. While she knew getting in the middle of some syndicate war would be stupid and that she had no place in it, it still rubbed her the wrong way to hide out when something so big was going down. It wouldn't be long before the others started itching to go out either, regardless of how dangerous it was.

Not that she could blame them, really – there were fathers and husbands out there and their families didn't know if they were alive or dead. Buffy understood that these guys were just doing what they could to get by, to provide for their families, but part of her also knew that there were certain risks that you took on when working for Greely that these men were aware of.

In her opinion, the bad far outweighed the good when it came to the syndicate. There was still some honest work to be found around here – Bria worked at a little diner, there were a few stores, scrap dealers arrived weekly. Maybe Greely just paid better, or had benefits, or maybe it was a power thing…

Buffy wasn't sure what made people want to take the risks involved with it, especially if they had a family, but she guessed everyone had their own choices to make and she couldn't judge without being in that position.

Okay, so she was judging. A little.

So then, why was she still thinking about her latest visitor and daydreaming about their "third date"? Wondering when, or if, he'd come back? He was pretty much scouting business for some shady organization. Why didn't that bother her more?

She was pulled from her thoughts by a tugging on her pant leg and looked down to see Sehya - her father was a messenger for Greely and hadn't been seen since she'd locked down the building.

"Is daddy dead?"

Buffy stared at the girl for a moment. She couldn't be more than eight and, while she'd obviously bolstered herself up to ask, Buffy could see the slight tremble of her bottom lip as she waited for an answer.

"I don't know."

Platitudes and false hopes were useless here. God, she was tired…

"Can you find out?"

Big brown eyes welled and two fat tears rolled down her cheeks like it'd been choreographed to send an arrow straight through Buffy's heart. What the hell was she supposed to say to that?

"And my daddy too?"

Oh hell…

"And mine!"

A little crowd had crept up on her while she'd been daydreaming - damn that Mace- no, O.B. Juan, that was his real name - for being so deliciously distracting. And what was she supposed to call him, anyway? Was the O.B. some kind of title? Like a galactic mob thing? Or did it stand for his actual name? And if it did, why would he introduce himself as his abbreviation? Maybe she'd just call him Juan…

A sharp kick to the shin brought her back to the here and now, making her scowl down at tiny, pouting Les. Oh, yeah, serious stuff going on. No time to wonder about mysterious guys who thought she was "amazing".

"You find daddy!" He demanded, little hands balled up on his hips. Her smarting shin made it seem more bratty than cute though…

"You all quit bothering Buffy and go sit down."

Sehya's mother arrived in a flapping of hands and swats to tiny butts.

"But Mommy, she could-"

"Don't be rude, Sehya. It's dangerous out there, we can't ask her to-"

"It's fine. I'll go," Buffy said, straightening from where she'd been lounging against the wall.

The room fell silent, and Sehya's mother couldn't hide the flicker of hope that shone beneath her shock as she froze in her scolding. Buffy hoped she was hiding her own eagerness to do a little patrolling better than that…

"You can't!" Alec yelled, jumping to his feet and looking nothing short of panicked. "You have to stay here!"

"Alec-"

He ran forward and wrapped his arms around her knee. "What if- what if you go and something bad happens? What if you don't come back?"

She pulled his arms gently from their death grip on her leg and kneeled down in front of him.

"I don't want you to go," he hiccupped, tears threating to overflow. Jeez, what was it with these kids and the waterworks today?

"If it was your dad, wouldn't you want to know?"

Alec's eyes got big and he blinked at her in surprise before dropping his gaze. After a moment, he bit his lip and nodded tentatively.

"I think you could've saved him. So… so, maybe… maybe, you should go see if you can save their daddies."

Her eyes ticked off to the side to see the hopeful looks on the other kid's faces. She really wished he hadn't said that… The likelihood that she'd find their dads and find them breathing was pretty low.

"I'll do what I can, kiddo. You all stay in here and stay quiet, okay? I'll be back as quick as I can."

Buffy gave Alec's bowed head one last pat before heading for the exit. Just as she reached the hall though, Bria stepped up and grabbed her arm, stopping her with a serious look.

"You know as well as I do the odds those men have," she whispered. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you're still just one person, Buffy. Don't throw your life away on-"

She shook her head and stepped closer.

"I'm not saying those men's lives are worthless, please don't think that. And I'm not saying you couldn't save them if given the chance. It's just- You've already given so much to us, Buffy. Every day since I met you you've lived your life making other people's better. Just don't die out there not having lived your life for anything other than that, okay? You deserve something for you, too. And the thought that you-"

"Okay, stop before you take away my Ramble Queen crown," Buffy said, laying her hand on Bria's. "I know you mean well, but there's no reason for you to be all worked up about my personal life. I spent years before I met you toeing that line and, to be honest, being here and worrying about everybody else has been just what I needed. You guys aren't a burden and I'm not giving up anything to help. Now, before this starts sounding any more like I'm going out there to die a horrible death, let's just say 'see ya later' and leave it at that, 'kay?"

Bria yanked her forward into a strong hug. "See ya later, Buffy."


Despite the seriousness of her little venture back out into the city, Buffy had to hold herself back from skipping and humming. No crying kids or worried parents or weird bonding moments – just her and a couple thousand pissed off mobsters. Sweet!

That bit of excited optimism didn't last long…

Buffy wiped the blood from her split lip in irritation as she watched a droid amble from an alley up ahead. Things in Feral City were, well, feral. Every one she'd encountered was fighting like a rabid animal backed into a corner. Definitely not the usual "Ouch that hurts, I'd better run away" that she'd gotten used to. In fact, she'd been the one that'd had to back off twice now. These guys were all about fighting to the death today and she wasn't into that.

Skirting a group tangling not only with each other but with a droid as well, she paused only long enough to make sure no one she was looking for was there before moving on. Her usual bold waltz down the middle of the street was replaced by shadow hugging caution as she tried avoiding confrontation on for size.

She'd only been out for twenty minutes or so, but if felt like hours. Three fights and the sizzling tension in the air had her shoulders tight and paranoia cranked up. Unfortunately, those twenty minutes hadn't been filled with only brawling and skulking – she'd seen one of the men she was looking for beaten to death and left in a pile of scrap in an alley. So, she wasn't feeling very optimistic right now…

That lack of optimism plummeted to a new low when she rounded the next corner and saw who was standing in front of a building about fifty feet away.

Her eyes met familiar yellow and held.

Buffy's senses exploded immediately; fingers twitched and muscles coiled. She could see the same reaction in the stranger – subtle but still detectable to her trained eyes.

She saw his mouth move without their eyes parting from their stare down. Sadly, lip reading wasn't one of the awesome perks of being a Slayer. Her eyes ticked briefly to the nervous little man next to him and she actually was able to read one of the words he was saying – Slayer. She wasn't so sure her reputation preceding her was a good thing in this case…

So, she did exactly the opposite of what her body wanted – she walked away.

Fate seemed to have other ideas for her that day though, and a shrill, panicked scream stopped her before she'd gone three strides in the other direction.

"N-NOOOO! Ahhh, pleeease… PleASSSSE STOP!"

Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. Of course Sehya's dad would be being tortured or killed or something in the building right behind Mister Tall, Red and Nasty.

Turning back around with a sigh of resignation, she spotted the unfortunately nicknamed "Dredge", Sehya's father, flailing wildly as someone dangled him from a window about fifty feet up. Her body language had most likely given away her intentions already - it'd be naïve to think that thing that was still staring at her hadn't spotted that – trying to sneak in now would be pointless.

When those yellow and red eyes met hers, she knew she was right. There was a dark anticipatory gleam to that gaze that set off warning bells. But while logic told her that this was a bad idea, another part, somewhere deep inside, absolutely crowed for a chance at this thing. It had been so long since she'd fought something evil. And man, oh man, did evil just float around this guy like a bad smell.

She started forward, the wailing above falling to the background as the crunch of every rock under her boots became twice as loud. The nervous little man that had been talking to Red (she didn't know they guy's name, but she did vaguely remember beating him up a time or two) scrambled between them as she approached.

"Slayer, hold up just a minute," he said. "Dredge was a spy! He was feedin' info to the Black Sun this whole time! He-"

"Don't care."

When he just gaped at her, she finally gave him her full attention.

"Leave," she said, eyes boring into his with a pointed glare.

He only took a split second to give the red and black guy the barest of frightened glances before sprinting off. Never slowing her stride, she turned her attention back to her opponent.

"Are you going to move out of my way or am I gonna have to make you?"

She knew the answer already, but his silence still bugged her. The loud, cocky ones were always so much easier to deal with…

She gave him plenty of time to see her pulling her fist back, so when she reached him and threw her punch it was no surprise that he caught it – leaving his right side completely open for her lightning quick kick.

She loved that look. That one that said, "Hey! You're not supposed to be able to do that!" Especially on faces like this one – this guy would rather commit ritual suicide than consciously show surprise like that, she was sure.

Too bad the moment was kinda ruined by the fact that she was probably wearing the same look. The hand holding her fist never lost its grip and her kick only made him slide a little bit – possibly more from crappy, rubble strewn footing than force.

Still, there was that moment of surprise…

Buffy took advantage of the momentary stillness – twisting out of his grip and launching a new attack. Unfortunately, while there was still a vaguely interested look on his tattooed face, she'd squandered her moment of surprise and he was prepared now.

Which meant he was swatting her down in a very bug like fashion.

He was every bit as fast as her and while she didn't think he was actually stronger (she'd taken harder hits – a lot), he still brushed off her blows as easily as she brushed off his.

"NOOOOOO! PLEAAAAASE!"

Crap, this looked like it was going to be a lot more time consuming than she'd thought. Time she didn't have, that Dredge didn't have. She'd thought she'd have a quick and dirty fight, get it out of her system and then run to the rescue. Having her butt kicked hadn't really been on the agenda for today's outing. As much as she loathed retreating, she needed to get away from this guy long enough to save that idiot Dredge before they dropped him off the freaking building. Then she could focus on the good stuff without any distractions.

Luckily (or, really, not so much, but hey, gotta take it where you can get it), Red deflected her next attack by neatly throwing her toward the entrance of the building. Jeez, she was so out of shape…

She didn't even spare him another glance, just rocketed back to her feet and sprinted toward the door. Leaping a crumbling pillar just past the entrance, she spotted the stairs immediately and raced toward them.

She'd just gotten past the third landing when she felt something slam into her back, sending her crashing face first into the stairs. But when she looked behind her, foot already drawn back to kick, no one was there. With a muffled curse, she jumped back up and started running again, only to slide to a stop seconds later when Red appeared in her path.

How in the hell had he-

That was as far as her thoughts on the subject got before she found herself flying through the air and slamming into the wall at the bottom of the landing. She felt the wall crumble behind her, possibly just because, like everything in this city, it was falling apart, but she also thought maybe Red was starting to play seriously now.

She climbed to her feet slowly, watching him and feeling the first stirrings of anger - both at him for apparently trying to stop her from saving Dredge, and at herself for letting him.

She'd let herself get complacent. Instinct and super-strength only took you so far if you didn't work at honing your skills. Occasionally kicking the crap out of random mobsters, even alien ones, apparently wasn't enough…

It also didn't help that she didn't really like Dredge. While she didn't want to see him die, it was more for Sehya and her mom's sake than anything else. She straightened her shoulders and tried to imagine Dredge the loving dad and husband; tried to picture him as her dad (okay, that didn't help at all); tried to think of him as just an innocent guy that was about to senselessly die.

Okay, that last one kinda worked…

He definitely wasn't innocent, but she was sure he didn't deserve to die. He was kinda weasely and sneaky and working for Greely was a crap life choice, but she'd never seen him or heard of him hurting anybody. Latching onto that thought, she rushed Red, who'd been waiting patiently at the top of the stairs.

Her first shot was blocked easily, but her second…

She grinned triumphantly as her fist connected solidly with his face and he actually stumbled back a few steps. The barest look of surprise flickered over his face again.

"What are you?"

His voice was quiet and cultured instead of the deep, gravely growl that she'd been expecting.

"Thought you already knew," she shrugged. "I'm the Slayer."

She dove at him before finishing her last word, hoping to catch him off guard. Shewas partially successful - he was ready for a tackle, dropping slightly to accommodate the blow, but he wasn't prepared for her to launch into a flip over his head and kick him in the back. She'd been holding back on the Slayer strength since she'd arrived here, not wanting to accidentally kill anyone, but she let it out this time. Her foot connected solidly and sent him arcing down the stairs without touching them, crashing into the wall at the bottom.

"See how he likes it," she muttered, spinning and racing up the stairs again.

She made it few more flights, but was so concerned with watching out for Red's reappearance that she lost count of how many. The choice at what floor to stop on was made for her when a large red and black body blocked her path again, an incoming blow forcing her to dodge back out of the stairwell.

A fallen support beam had her doing an awkward little hop/spin to keep from tripping and falling on her ass, putting her face to face with the large shattered windows that looked over the city.

The view was obstructed for the moment by Dredge's body, hanging from the floor above.

She froze, her eyes locked on his. They were already blank from death, but the rest of his face told of his last moments, twisted into a look of terror as it was. Something heavy dropped in Buffy's stomach as she stared at the slightly swaying body - a weighted ball of guilt and disappointment and anger.

"This was you," she said softly, knowing he'd followed her. "You ordered this."

"His death was his own making."

"Hung himself from the window while screaming 'No, don't', did he?" She scoffed, refusing to hear the truth in his words.

"His choices led him here."

Buffy turned to face him, body taunt and almost trembling in eagerness to kick this guy's ass.

"So have yours."

The anger that was simmering in her was mostly aimed at Dredge and his crappy decisions, but Dredge was past the point of being able to fix things (or getting beat-up for being an idiot) so it found new targets. Partially herself for not being fast enough, good enough, to get there in time to save him; for having to be the one to tell Sehya and her mom that he was dead and that she failed. But she didn't really have time for self-pity at the moment, so a heaping helping of that anger sharpened to a point and was directed squarely at this red jackass. Despite his wordplay, she had no doubt he'd either ordered Dredge's death or, at the very least, condoned it.

She was exchanging blows with him in the next instant, with no real memory of making the decision to attack. Fine with her, really, she always seemed to do okay with letting her pissed off instincts run the show anyway. Without having to worry about getting to Dredge anymore, she was able to focus a hundred percent on the fight. Too bad she was still getting her butt kicked…

She'd just hit the ground hard, sliding through broken glass and ancient filth that littered the floor when a massive explosion rocked the city. Jerking her gaze to the left, Buffy could see a huge fiery mess a few miles away, belching thick black smoke into the sky. She only let her eyes stay there for a second before focusing on Red again, not really wanting to invite any blows while she wasn't looking.

"Uh-uh," she said, catching the look on his face as he also looked at the explosion. "Now you want to leave? Not happening. You wanted to be a pain in my ass when I had somewhere else to be. Now it's my turn."

Turning his attention back to her while she pulled herself to her feet, he seemed to study her for a moment before tilting his head.

"You've been interesting, but I no longer have time for this."

Reaching a hand inside his black cloak, she saw a glint of silver and launched herself at him in desperation. Buffy didn't know what it was – it didn't look like any blaster she'd seen – but she knew that the last thing she wanted was for this guy to have a weapon.

It was at this point – her, scrambling to keep him from pulling out that silver thing and him, being forced to continue blocking and unable to get it – that two droids ambled onto the floor from the stairwell.

Both of them paused in their fight - him holding her arm up and twisted uncomfortably back, her with a hand twisted in the front of his robe-thingy and a foot drown back for a kick - and blinked at the two new additions.

Ideally, they would've both separated and dove in different directions, but in following the status-quo for the day, they both somehow dove in the same direction, bumping shoulders and hitting the ground in an awkward display as the droids opened fire.

Buffy couldn't tell if it was annoyance or frustration or what, but Red was definitely going for his weapon with a little more energy now. And while it might've been helpful if he took out the droids, she had no desire to have that thing turned on her. With a kind of break-dance-y spin on her back, Buffy shot a quick kick to his face and rolled into a crouch before diving at him.

The last thing she saw before she was suddenly airborne was his snarling face. She'd definitely managed to piss him off with that last move. Wait until he got a load of this…

Dredge's hanging body floated by her as she found herself in the open air outside the window. Despite the moment of gut-clenching "oh shit" as she realized where he'd thrown her, Buffy couldn't help waving the nifty silver weapon she'd nabbed from Red's robe at him as she fell. Yellow eyes widened and there was a sudden surprising yank on the metal tube Buffy was taunting him with. She blinked in surprise and tightened her grip, wondering if it was just her imagination or if her fall was actually slowing

Then the floor they'd been fighting on exploded and she was suddenly falling full-speed again as Red disappeared in a swirl of black fabric and flames.

She barely had time to gloat over her success before she hit the roof of a neighboring building and crashed through. Maybe 'success' wasn't the right word…


It took her a minute to get her bearings after peeling her gritty eyes open. She blinked at the Buffy sized hole, holes, above her that showed weak, filmy daylight. Jeez, had she fallen through the entire building?

With shaking arms and tunneling vision she pushed herself into sitting position, thought about puking for a second, then decided she didn't really have time for that and got the rest of the way to her feet.

She doubted whatever the droids had done to blow that floor up was going to slow Red down for long and she wasn't going to be able to put up much of a fight as she was right then. Not that she'd done so great before she fell through a building…

With slow stumbling steps, she managed to find her way outside to the street and took a few seconds to orient herself. Mind sluggishly shuffling through options, she finally thought of a place nearby where she could hunker down and recuperate for a little while.

It took longer than she would've liked to get to where she was going, but it might've been the fact that she was looking over her shoulder for death in red and black every few seconds that made it seem that way…

The building she picked was old and dilapidated, like they all were, but this one had a little something special. Buffy had stumbled across it in her early days here, when insomnia had plagued her and she'd spend days just wandering the city while she brooded.

Down through the basement, ducking under some corroding piping and skirting a puddle of who-knew-what was an access panel. Her enhanced vision could barely see it, so she wasn't too worried about just anybody stumbling across it. It wasn't anything miraculous really. No treasures of untold wealth or cool hidden weapons or secret research or anything. It was just an underground passage between this building and the next. But it offered her somewhere quiet and (hopefully) unknown to hang out for a while without risking being boxed in.

Settling herself painfully on the floor, back against the wall in the complete darkness, Buffy let her eyes slip closed.

Just need to rest for a little while…


When Buffy woke up and made her way back outside, she was sure she'd only been in there a few hours at most. And at first, when she saw it was still daylight, she patted herself on the back, thinking it had been even less.

Then she noticed that the weak light from the sun was coming from somewhere it shouldn't be. That it was somehow earlier than when she'd gone in…

"Well, crap…" She mumbled.

So, a little less than twenty-four hours then. Or forty-eight. Or seventy-two. She slumped and cursed under her breath as she headed for home. Bria, Alec and all the others were probably having kittens about now. On the up side though, she wasn't feeling like she'd been hit by a train (or thrown out a window) anymore. While still achy and sore, she was moving like a real person and not a shuffling zombie.

Speaking of…

She looked down at her filthy, blood stained clothes with a grimace. Not much she could do about that, though. Maybe she could get Bria to distract Alec while she changed so he wouldn't freak out.

That plan was dashed minutes later when a little body crashed into her legs, arms wrapping around a thigh with a death grip, face buried in the dirty fabric.

"Give a girl a little warning," she said, stumbling back a step on the leg that didn't have a child-octopus latched onto it.

When he didn't say anything, she laid a hand on his head. "Hey, Alec, it's okay. I'm-"

It was then she noticed the trembling and the almost hyperventilating breaths huffing against her thigh.

"Alec?" She said, dread coiling in a greasy knot in her stomach.

Nothing.

She gently pulled on his upper arms to pry him off of her. It took more effort than it should have, but he finally came free with a low keening whine that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"What are you doing out here? Are you hurt?" She asked, breath catching as she caught the faint sight of blood splatter on his dark shirt. "Alec, what happened?"

But he wasn't telling. His eyes just sort of looked through her while he continued on the verge of hyperventilation.

"Okay," said softly. "Let's just get home and-"

That was when he kind of freaked the hell out.

He ripped himself from her grip, falling on the ground and scuttling backwards, only to dive forward as soon as he got to his feet and grab her arm, pulling at her in a desperation that scared her. Tears and snot burst free as his whine turned into a full out wail, his pulling becoming more frantic as his little feet slid on the ground and she didn't move. Buffy was so distracted by the display that it took her a moment to realize he was pulling her away from home.

"No…" She breathed, the earlier feeling of dread exploding through her and making her lightheaded.

Even the act of turning her head to look in the direction of the building had Alec flipping into a new level of panic, so she dropped to one knee and yanked him forward, pulling his little struggling body into her arms and standing with him clutched to her.

"Okay, okay, we won't go back there," she said, feeling worse when he immediately relaxed instead of better.

Her feet followed the familiar path on autopilot as her mind ran through scenario after scenario. Was the building even still there? Was that the explosion that she saw earlier? Did anybody but Alec get out? She wanted to ask about Bria, but fear of the answer and how Alec would react kept her quiet. He'd finally stopped crying and she'd rather cut off her own tongue than send him into hysterics again.

The relief she felt when she entered the warehouse was profound – she'd never been so glad to see Bal's old, beat-up ship before. He really wasn't supposed to be here. After taking the lion's share of Buffy's passengers (and credits) away from the city, she hadn't expected him to come back until after the fighting died down – Bal was nothing if not an expert in self-preservation. She should've known he wouldn't miss at the chance to make some more money off of her – the more dangerous the trip, the more she owed him.

"Slayer," Bal called, coming down the ramp and eating something she couldn't (and didn't want to) identify. "Got another one for me? You know it'll…"

His voice tapered off as Alec turned to look at him and Buffy saw what might've actually been a crinkle of concern on his blue forehead.

It also could've been indigestion.

But Buffy knew Bal had a soft spot for Alec. Probably because Alec thought Bal was the coolest person- eh, being, in the universe. Feeding Bal's ego with a little hero worship was apparently the way to Bal's friendship. That or feeding his pockets with credits, like Buffy did.

"You're going to stay here with Bal, 'kay?"

Buffy sat Alec on the floor and he made a feeble grab for her, but didn't freak out when she gave him a light push towards Bal. After a nervous look of indecision, he shuffled closer to the smuggler, one small hand reaching out to grip the material of his pants near the knee.

Bal gave Buffy a questioning look, but she just shook her head slightly in response.

"I'll be back before the sun goes down."

Alec's eyes widened and he took a half-step toward her before Bal's big hand landed on his shoulder and spun him toward the ship.

"Hey kid, you wanna see something crazy? I was just in the third quadrant and picked up this thing that-"

Buffy watched as Bal steered Alec into the ship and disappeared, giving a reassuring nod to him when he turned worried eyes back to her for a moment. She didn't really like leaving him here, but while Bal might not be the ideal choice of protector/babysitter, he was the only one she had. She knew Bal only really looked out for himself, but as long as Alec was with him, he'd fall under that umbrella of self-preservation.

Bal's loud laugh echoed through the open ship door as she turned to leave. Hopefully whatever he was showing Alec that was so "crazy" wouldn't add to the poor kid's trauma for the night…


The building was still there, that was a plus. Too bad the same couldn't be said for the door. It had been completely blown inward.

The best in the universe. Completely unpenetrable. That's what the guy had said when she'd forked over all those credits for the stupid thing. Now, here it was, bent and broken and laying twenty feet down the hall. The first time she needed it to really do its job and it failed.

It wasn't the door's job to protect these people, it was yours.

Buffy's hands clenched into fists and she pushed the thought away – plenty of time for beating herself up later. Stepping over the twisted metal frame and into the building, she was immediately assaulted by the smell of blood.

She pulled the metal tube she'd stolen from Red from where it had been tucked in her waistband at the small of her back, finger hovering over the little button on the side as she pointed it down the hall. She wasn't sure what it would do exactly, but something was better than nothing at the moment.

Checking each room as she went down the hall, she pushed away any relief at finding nothing – the smell of blood was getting stronger. It wasn't until she came to her own room that she found the source.

Much like the door in the hall, Bria laid across Buffy's floor, twisted and broken. Blood had misted her bed, sprayed the small table in the corner and splattered against the walls.

Buffy stared into the empty eyes of her friend for a moment in shock before spinning back into the hall, shaking hand covering her mouth as she fought the urge to vomit. Alec had seen this. Then, remembering the blood sprayed on his shirt, she realized that he'd not only seen it, he'd seen it happen.

Somebody was going to pay for this.

Focusing her energy on her anger, she straightened and went back in the room. Avoiding the accusing gaze of her dead friend she squatted next to the body, looking for anything that would tell her what happened here. Then she remembered she wasn't a freaking detective or crime scene investigator or whatever and she had no idea what she was looking at except a dead person and a lot of blood.

She was about to stand again when she spotted the scrap of material clutched in Bria's hand. Now this was the kind of clue she'd been hoping for. Slash patterns, bits of hair and blobs of dirt really didn't tell her much, but a-

The mental babble distracting her from the fact that this was Bria skidded to a halt as she pulled the scrap free. She knew this fabric. She'd had her own hands wrapped in it not that long ago, just before getting thrown out of a window.

She remembered that day she'd first seen him, high in that window. She'd been out with Alec. He must've followed them, or somehow found out where-

Oh god, this was her fault…

He'd come here for her and-

Buffy stood slowly, hand clenching around the bit of fabric so hard that it was shaking. How could she have been so stupid? So careless?

The black scrap offered her no answers as she stared at it. She finally tore her eyes away and turned to leave, not sure where she was going or what she was going to do but needing to just get out. It was then that she spotted something else off about the room.

On the wall over her bed was a picture.

She stopped breathing for a moment and took a step forward in awe. It was beautiful. Two people stood side by side in a field of what looked like purple wheat, looking out at an amazing sunset. The figure's backs were to the viewer, but she recognized her own blond ponytail. Next to her, she guessed was Alec, given the messy dark hair, but he'd made himself a little taller, so he was almost her own height in the picture. He did always complain about being short. She smiled briefly, before reaching out for it.

The blood just smeared across it when she tried to wipe it away.