1Outside a large shed in Greenwich, England from which emanates trance music, Elektra works up a teenage boy before sinking her teeth into the ripe fruit. One hundred meters away, a tall man appears to be doing something similar to another ripe teenage boy. Leks decides to check out his form. The vampire is six foot five inches tall and weighs two hundred pounds. He is long and lean with shoulder-length black hair. His eyelashes are flush with mascara, and he wears silver glitter on his eyelids. On his legs are tight shiny silver pants, and on his torso and arms is long-sleeve black mesh shirt.
"Not bad," Elektra comments. "Though if you do it right, the grimace looks more like a smile, and not a cry of pain."
"You like it when they don't suffer," he asks in a thick Irish accent, looking in her direction, which causes his jaw to drop. "It's you."
"Who else would I be," she coyly responds, looking the specimen over.
"Elektra."
"You know me," she says with a smile.
"You came to free us."
"And you came to get high off this boy's E."
"Special K."
"Ooh. Ketamine. Gimme a taste." She kisses the vampire and sucks on his tongue, causing his eyes to bulge out. "Mmn. So what's your name, stranger?"
"Eamon. We met at a Cure concert in New York City. Disintegration tour."
"Funny. Don't remember. Though I'm thinking I should," she says, running her hands down his broad shoulders. He starts to tremble. "You're eager," she says, grabbing his groin. "Show me how eager."
"Right here," he nervously asks.
"Not that, silly. Well, that, maybe. Your face first." She wants to see how handsome he is when he's not bumpy, and to show Eamon how pretty she is.
"You're beautiful." She likes how he is in awe of her.
"And you're about to become the luckiest man on earth."
An hour later, two Slayers arrive after sympathetic police told them of the odd deaths that had become especially rare in recent weeks. It was the first double-killing in a month (rather than hunt in packs, the vampires had foolishly gone solo, thinking the Slayers couldn't find them all.) Robson was told of the additional "special characteristics," which meant it could be Elektra the Slutty Slayer-killer, so he communicated to his Slayers as best he could to be careful. But they felt the invincibility of unbroken success, and discounted their Watcher's warnings. They were about to enter the shed in the hopes of finding another vampire who could, under intense pummelling, reveal where the killer went. But Chelsea heard what sounded like a struggle around the side, and Brianne agreed to check it out.
What they found delighted them. The killer was stupid enough to stick around for a victory lap. Elektra's legs are wrapped around Eamon's waist, her back against the wall, her face contorted in pleasure. "Fuck yeah. Aww, fuck yeah. Oh . . . Fuck . . . Slayers." Elektra knew what it meant to see a pair of teenage girls coming her way. "Stop. No. Idiot. Stop," she tries to tell Eamon, whose eyes are rotated toward the back of his head and whose mind is on another plane. She finally pushes him to the ground with her feet, which then hit the ground. "Let's go, girls."
Elektra blocks Bre's right kick for her head and lands a left kick to the Slayer's ribs. She takes a right kick to the face from Chelsea, ducks a left cross and returns the favor with a right kick to the Slayer's chin. Then she preempts Brianne's roundhouse kick with one of her own, sending the Slayer spinning through the air before falling to the ground. "You're not nearly as good as the Slayer I killed," she taunts Chelsea, who lands a left jab. Leks blocks a right hook and lands one of her own, knocking the Slayer back.
Eamon hears the sounds of fighting, rises to his feet, snaps his pants up but doesn't dare zip them, and puts up his dukes, prepared for battle and ready to impress his new girl. He tries two right jabs. Brianne swerves her head to avoid both. He throws a left hook. She blocks it and sends a left kick into his mouth, knocking him back into the side of the shed. "Oh. So that's how ya want it," he says.
"Actually, I want you dead." Eamon blocks a left hook but not a right uppercut and jab, followed by a right roundhouse kick to the chest. "And that's what you're about to be."
Elektra, busy schooling Chelsea in the finer points of hand-to-hand combat, hears Eamon's unhappy groan, and the sound of fists hitting his pretty face, and realizes she must come to the rescue. Leks does a backflip kick to put some distance between herself and Chelsea and move her closer to Brianne. Then she turns and lands a left sweep kick to Bre's back just as she brandished the stake in her right hand. The kick sends the Slayer into Eamon, bringing her in unwanted contact with him. She tries to stake Eamon through his ribs, but Lek's grabs her hair and pulls Brianne backwards, sending her hurtling into Chelsea.
"Why you shouldn't wear ponytails, ladies," Elektra jokes. "On a more serious note," she hits them both simultaneously with a leaping split kick, "nobody interrupts my orgasm and gets away with it." She grabs her heavy purse filled with metal throwing stars and spins it around, nailing Chelsea in the left side of the head and Brianne flush in the face. Both Slayers fall down. Elektra grabs Eamon and runs away, knowing she can't take them both with such a weak fighter backing her up. They fall down in a ditch off the side of a road.
"Christ lass, you're gonna pull it off," he complains. Leks realizes the boy is too slow to keep up with her.
"You want me?"
"More than anything."
"Then you'll find me." She runs away, disappearing in a flash. Eamon looks behind him and sees two Slayers running his way. This was going to be a challenge.
"Just a little bigger than your old digs," Faith jokes as Buffy leads her around the compound and she listens to the echo of her voice down the hall.
"I'm sorry you have to be here. I mean, for this."
"Not your fault, B. We'll find the bad guys and slay 'em, just like old times." Giles comes rushing towards them. He's visible winded, having tried to get to Buffy as soon as possible.
"That was Robson. He's found them. Well, her at least."
"Robson's in England, isn't he?"
"They appear to be somehow using aeroplanes for transport."
"Yeah. So do I. What's the diff," Faith asks.
"The 'diff,'" Buffy responds, "is that vampires can't protect against direct sunlight if they fly. At least that's what Angel said."
"So what. Big deal. They're in England. Let's go there and kill them."
"We have, umm, we have like, what, four Slayers there," Buffy asks.
"Bonnie and Margaret are in Scotland. Brianne and Chelsea came upon Elektra and a, umm, vampire who was tall and, er, according to the girls, well hung."
"Sounds like my kind of vamp," Faith jokes.
"But that's not Devlin," Buffy points out. "He's short and, well, I'd imagine, small. Not that I'd ever imagine. He just seems like the type who overcompensates."
"How do they know he's- ," Faith wonders. "Oh."
"She is the teenage whore," Buffy points out cattily.
"We assume they are still together. And we will find them. Before the two of you will have the chance of doing the honors."
"So Charli,"
"Chelsea."
"And what's-her-name, killed this guy, and the teenage whore got away?"
"They both got away."
"So he can fight too?"
"Apparently, not so well."
"So what you're telling me is we have two Slayers who can't even take one of these vampires trying to fight them both?"
"They will have assistance."
"The others are coming back from Scotland?"
"That won't be necessary."
"Cause we're gonna be there by morning."
"That won't be necessary."
"That wasn't a question."
It took four hours of running, hitching rides on trucks and trains, hiding on rooftops and cowering in sewers, but Eamon finally made it up to Elektra's room in her five-star hotel in downtown London. "What took you? I've been bored out of my mind."
"So happy to see me," he jokes. She stands up and looks up at him.
"You're big enough. We're gonna have to teach you how to fight."
"I'm a better lover than a fighter," he responds putting his arms around her waist. She pushes him away.
"Fine," Leks responds, pulling off her shirt and unbuttoning her pants. "You want me. Take me." He smiles, runs at her, and is shocked to get kicked in the nose. "Come on big boy." She knocks him to his knees with a roundhouse kick, then slams the back of his head through the glass coffee table. "Trust me, I'm worth it." Due to the pain radiating through his skull, Eamon was starting to doubt that.
Spike storms into Angel's office. "We have to do something about this NOW."
"I know."
"I thought I could take Devlin on my own, but he's got Elektra, and Dru, and who knows who bloody else on his side - "
"Wait a second? Devlin? He's got something to do with this?"
"Something. Everything! We have to stop him. You and I. I hate to bloody admit it, but together we're the only ones who can keep this from getting out of control before it hurts Buffy."
"Buffy? What does she have to do with any of this?"
"Have you been paying bloody attention?"
"Spike, something more important has come up," Angel says condescendingly.
"More important? What the bloody hell could be more important?"
"Fred's sick."
"I think I met him," Faith says to Buffy in the plane. "In Boston – back in the day."
"When you say met – "
"He came on to me."
"And you – ?"
"Shot him down."
"Unusual for you, back then."
"He wasn't cute. Plus, he was different. He knew I was the Slayer, and yet he still came on to me. Fact, that's probably why he came."
"So this weird thing he has for Slayers goes back a while. By the way, why didn't you kill him?"
"I tried. He hit me in the head with something hard. Cut me, bad. Then he ran away. Couldn't chase while I was gushing blood. Little twerp's a cheater."
"Wouldn't be the first vampire you didn't kill," Buffy says disparagingly.
"Actually, he was. And it's not like you haven't missed with a few big ones, B."
"I'm sorry. It's just – this vampire's got me on edge. It's different, now that I have the whole world to watch out for. Anyone, anywhere can wound me."
"That was incredible. And I don't usually say that," Elektra tells Eamon as they stagger out of the shower.
"Fooking unbelieveable," he adds as he paws at her glistening body.
"Almost as good as the first."
"Almost?"
"We set a pretty high standard."
"We'll have to try to beat it with number three."
"You wish," she saws with a laugh.
"Stop. Right there. You're perfect." She walks into the living room.
"I'm more perfect in motion." She tries to put on a bathrobe but he rips it away. "So you wanna train naked? I'll go for that," she shrugs.
"I'll do anything for you, Leksi. Foit anything. Face the sun itself."
"I like my men without third degree burns. But a little bruising can be nice." His right eye is swollen shut, his left eye is black, his lip is swollen, his nose swollen and bloodied, and he has bruises and cuts on both cheeks from their one-sided training session. Eamon wraps his arms around her from behind and picks her up. Elektra giggles.
"And a little boitin'," he adds. Leks hits his nose with the back of her head as he tries to sink his teeth into her neck and throws him to the ground in front of her.
"So I'm playing the Slayer again."
"Ah don't wont a Slayer. I wont you." Eamon lunges at Elektra, who throws him into the wreckage from some furniture they broke late last evening. "A mean it, luv." Elektra smiles. Eamon stands up and slowly walks towards her. "Ah won't fight with you no more."
"Tired of getting beat down?"
"Well, yeah," he concedes. "I also wont to do things to you ah don't wont to do with no Slayer." A handsome vampire who wasn't attracted to Slayers. Now that was sexy.
"Again," she asks with a gaping smile. "Oh Eamon. You can't be serious."
"Look at me, love."
"There's only so much a man can take. There's only so much a woman can take."
"You're no woman. You're a goddess."
"Oh stop it," she says modestly. "Goddesses don't get to have this much fun."
"I've never felt this way about a woman loik I feel about you, Leksi. Oi've neva felt this way about anyone."
Robson went home with his Slayers. He left guards back at the office. He was very careful. Like a man who feared he was under surveillance. Now that Devlin was in town, that fear had finally come true. It also meant Devlin could not act right away. He spent the night searching for vampires, but could find none. The new Slayers had done some very thorough work in this city. All his old friends were gone. After a thorough above and below-ground reconnaissance, Devlin returned to the hotel with the last of the morning fog. He stepped into the elevator, pressed the 12 button, and waited for the door to close, when out of the corner of his right eye he caught sight of a girl sitting on a circular couch who looked vaguely familiar. And as she turns around and caught his eye, he realizes she might very well be one of the Slayers he observed the night before. The speed she displays as she races to the closing elevator door eliminated all doubt. When the door is only six inches open, Dev sticks out his right leg and kicks the Slayer down before she can grab the door with both hands, pull it open, and force a fight. Chelsea runs over, helps Brianne up, and yells in vain for the elevator to be stopped. Robson steps forward, calms them down, and orders two men into another elevator.
"It's okay," he tells them. "He didn't try to run. Now we have them both trapped."
Devlin leans against the wall of the ascending elevator and puts his hands to his forehead. He'd been outsurveiled! Beat at his own game. London was supposed to be easy. A break from the rigors of Slayer-fighting. On the other hand, his increasing respect for this Watcher only made him a more valuable prize.
The elevator opens, and Dev races for his room. He stops when he gets to the door and hears what's going on inside. "Even at a time like this," he says as he puts his card in and takes it out. "Especially at a time like this." He opens the door and sees his sister and a strange man facing him. "Oh good God," he bellows, slamming the door shut. "Can't you have the decency to keep it in the bedroom?"
"This is Eamon."
"Eamon. Irish?"
"County Wexford."
"Your reputation proceeds you."
"Thank you."
"That's not a good thing in your case." Eamon stares down at Devlin. "Get some clothes on," Dev orders as he contemptuously pushes his sister's hulking suitor to the floor. "You too, sis." Dev looks around and shakes his head. "Oh my GOD! There must be five, maybe ten thousand dollars worth of damage here."
"We trained. Hard."
"And did some other stuff," Eamon jokes.
"He's going to fight a Slayer." Devlin laughs at his sister.
"And how long do you think he'll last," Dev asks her, ignoring Eamon. "Fifteen seconds?"
"He's working with Pitt."
"When it comes to battle Pitt thinks with his head, not his pants. He'd only want Eamon for fodder."
"Hey shorty. I'm fooking here," Eamon yells.
"Yes. And for that you're about to feel extremely unlucky. "There's a Slayer in the lobby. Probably two. And probably that's not all."
"Big deal," Elektra counters, not at all phased. "They're rookies. I fought them both last night. You and me can kill them easy."
"Me too," Eamon chimes in. Leks rolls her eyes. "Oh cum on, Leksi! I thought you believed in me."
"Leksi," Devlin asks with a laugh. Then he gets serious again. "They probably tracked you home. I take that back. They probably tracked HIM home." Eamon realizes the Slayers let him escape, and feels deflated. Devlin pulls out his computer. "Now we're trapped, in broad daylight."
"By two Slayers. And maybe their Watcher. Isn't this what you wanted?"
"It's not just them, Elektra. We have many means of egress. They know that."
"What the bloody hell's an egress?"
"If it were just them, they'd have stormed the room by now."
"In which case you'd shoot them dead before I got a chance to have fun killing them."
"Exactly. Last night when I used the hotel intranet to hack on to their surveillance system, you said I was paranoid," he explains as he types away furiously.
"Having lived in London these past two months, oi have noothing against being paranoid."
"Shut up, human shield. This is family business." He types some more. "And apparently government business as well. Look at that, sister."
"He's cute. I suppose."
"See that bulge."
"I've seen better." She looks back at Eamon and smiles.
"I mean on his chest. It's a bulletproof vest."
"We got coppers?"
"Non-uniformed. MI5. Special division. At all the doors." Devlin glances out the window for an instant. Ground level right below us." He taps more on his keyboard. "Outside our room. In the sub-basement."
"Sewer access."
"They've got teams of two at every means of escape. They know we're dangerous - "
"Damn right!"
"So they'll force us to make the first move. If we get past the g-men, then we got the Slayers to worry about."
"And the dayloit," Eamon adds. He's visibly nervous, his hands shaking as he ties his shoes.
"It's okay," Devlin calmly says. "I've been in worse. We could be facing helicopter gunships."
"Don't say that," Eamon snaps. "Now we probably will."
"Hold on. Instant message. Evsey! You survive, you old sod! What's this about channel 2?" Dev turns on the television, and is horrified to see his and his sister's faces on the screen. "Aiigghh!" Eamon laughs at Mr. Cool losing his composure.
"We're celebrities," Elektra exults. "I'm famous."
"I can probably sell my story to the tabs. Don't worry, luv. I'll say you were the best. Cuz you were. Even if I die cuz I met you, you were worth it."
"Oh, Eamon," she puts her hand to his bruised cheek.
"Stop it! You're acting like teenagers."
"We are teenagers," Elektra counters.
"We have big problems. He's burst the wall between worlds. Just what I would have done in his position. I like him."
"LIKE him? Now I can't go to clubs. Can't go out at all. Everyone will think I'm some murderer." The negative side of notoriety is rapidly outweighing the positive.
"Aren't you," Eamon asks.
"Not a common murderer like they say. And that's not even a very good picture of me."
"So he's constricting our freedom of movement. We can deal."
"Now who's sounding like a teenager," Leks jokes.
"Everyone remain calm!"
"You're the one yelling," Eamon quips. Devlin gets out his two guns and all of his bullets. "We can hold out until night. I'll blow away anyone who tries to get in before then." He checks the vents, then looks at his computer again. "If they move, we'll know." Elektra screams and grabs her head. Eamon holds and comforts her.
"Very funny, sis. Now's not the time to fake a vision."
"She's coming. She's coming!"
"I found this other vampire under 'well hung,'" Dawn reports to Buffy over the phone as Buffy rushes with Faith down the tarmac at Heathrow. Buffy doesn't like the idea of her sister reading up on well-hung vampires. "His name's Eamon. He's Irish. Late teens. Sired in 1973. He's a hustler, basically. Screws for money and drugs. Real good at you-know-what, but not much else."
"Didn't you have homework last night?"
"I also researched Devlin, to see what he does when he's under siege."
"How did you know about that?"
"Robson told me. He called for Giles, but Giles wasn't there, so we got to talking. I like him."
"How much sleep did you get?"
"Actually, I didn't get to sleep."
"It's a school night!"
"I read about this massacre of Spike's in 1983 in Wisconsin. Really gross stuff with field hockey sticks." Devlin and Spike enter the girls' locker room. The girls scream. Some try to run, but Elektra and Dru block the only exits. "A web site about it said he had an accomplice. I think that's Devlin. And the field hockey sticks – that fits with what he did to Vi. Only, worse. Anyway, the police had the whole place surrounded. Just like now."
"Except now there are Slayers," Buffy condescendingly responds.
"But it's the same basic template. I think there are lessons that apply."
"I have to go." Buffy hangs up and gets in the government car with Faith, who's nervous being so close to the authorities. The sirens wail as they head on their way. Again, odd for Faith. Things have certainly changed since the last time the two of them were in the back of a police vehicle.
"Buffy? Here," Devlin asks, incredulous.
"And someone else."
"Another Slayer. Four Slayers. Including Buffy." Devlin smiles. "Well. We must be very important. To fly all the way from Rome at a moment's notice."
"That's the problem, dumbass. We can't wait till night. We can't wait twenty minutes. We have to move NOW."
"You're more amazing than I ever imagined," Eamon says to Elektra with starry eyes. So beautiful. So powerful. Devlin checks the cameras again.
"Go for the sewers and we get surrounded. Only one other way out."
"The vents," Elektra asks.
"Please. This isn't a movie. Pack up you things, sis." Devlin packs up his computer and the rest of his stuff, then hands them to Eamon. "Your part is vital. You are our porter. Except most porters don't get five thousand dollar tips."
"This is gonna weigh me down."
"Don't worry. You're walking out the sewer."
"I thought you said the sewer was a trap?"
"For us. Not you."
"Very good." Robson says to Buffy. He gets off the phone and back on the radio. "All hold." He has twelve special ops in all, each with a stake and a taser, plus two Slayers as backup. It's all he can do to keep them in check. "Relax, Chelsea. Brianne. You've done well. They're right where we want them."
I will find you. No matter how far. I will find you," Eamon pledges.
"Cut the Natty Bumpo act and remember not to drop my computer. It's far more valuable to the cause of vampires than you could ever be. Unfortunately, I need you to survive for it to survive. Heaven help us if it falls into the wrong hands."
"You're really not good at pep talks," Leks tells her brother. "I believe in you, Eamon. I believe you're a great Celtic warrior. Prove me right. Plus, you want to survive and see me naked again, right?" Eamon smiles. Devlin groans.
Devlin had never seen this much blood before. Smeared on the walls. Flowing in trails on the floor. Lapping up against his sneakers. And it was his doing. Spike puts his arm around Dev's shoulders. "I''m proud of you, boy. You did some spot on work today. Showed real creativity. Real bloody creativity." He chuckles. Devlin weakly follows suit. This wasn't as satisfying as Spike had promised.
"It's gnarly out there," Elektra rushes in to report. "Cop cars everywhere."
"Coppers won't stop me," Spike says, swaggering towards the exit and leaving bloody footprints.
"You're just going to walk out that door," Devlin asks.
"Who's gonna stop me?"
"That's not what this is about. There's an easy way, and there's an artful way."
"Bollocks to art."
"Listen to the boy," Dru gently pleads. She picks up some blood on her finger and puts it in Spike's mouth. "He has dreams. Don't crush them."
Devlin and Elektra look at the window shade and take a moment to prepare.
"Remember our first time," she asks with a smile.
"Stakes weren't nearly this high."
"Let's make mummy proud."