Generally speaking, Darla was amused when people pointed guns at her. Sure, it hurt if they shot her, but not many humans were accurate enough to hit her, and it was impossible for them to kill her. Generally. There was, however, the unfortunate exception that a shotgun pointed at her head might very well decapitate her, and at the moment she and Drusilla each had about six chances of decapitation each.

She was facing a viewscreen that portrayed the aging visage of Quentin Travers, and from the rigid nature of the smile on his face, he was not truly amused. "Why do Wolfram and Hart bother to insult this august body by sending a pair of vampires to represent them? Half the Scourge of Europe, no less?"

"I'm certain I couldn't say," Darla said dryly. "All I know is, they expected you to talk long enough to learn what we're offering. And after you heard that, they were confident you wouldn't turn me down."

"We might still destroy you, then send word to Wolfram and Hart via contacts of our own." My, he was touchy today.

Darla smirked and tossed her hair. "What if I said the deal would be off, then? It seems the company has some further use for me."

Travers leaned casually forward into the camera. "Tell me what this wonderful offer is so that I can turn it down and blow the two of you to hell."

"All right, if that's how you want it." She made her face as smooth as she could. "What about an army of Slayers? Hundreds of them. It seems there was always intended to be more than one girl."

Travers reached over to flip a switch, and Darla sighed. "Dru, show him the box."

Drusilla held up the box. "So many Slayers. May I eat them, Grandmum?"

"It doesn't look as if you may, dear. Quentin doesn't want them released, and you can't very well eat them straight out of the box." She gave Travers a wink and started to turn away. Drusilla pouted prettily.

"Damn you! Tell me what it is you want from us." Travers was beginning to break a sweat. She had him now.

"Just two things. First, we need any information you have on the origin of the Slayer."

Travers snorted. "You want a mass of useless legends? Done. What's your other condition?"

"We want to skim a few off the top. A pittance, really. One hundred forty-nine of them." She gave him her most winning smile. He was going to reject the offer, of course. She decided she might as well drop the other shoe. "Going to ask why such a specific number?"

"You don't want to round it off?"

"Wolfram and Hart wants a specific one hundred fifty of them. The ones that are already corrupt. Think that through." She winked at Dru, who blushed and twisted her skirts coquettishly.

Quentin's face went livid for a moment. Then he sagged, and suddenly the Head of the Council looked very, very old. "I should have known. How did we miss this? How...I should have known. The rebellion, the need for the retrieval teams..." He hid his face behind his hands for a moment. "Very well. Give us the unaltered ones, and take the rest. The ones who'll serve the cause loyally are ours, and for the rest, you're welcome to them. May they give you as many headaches in a year as the one has in ten thousand."

"It's a deal, then?"

Quentin thrust himself at the camera. "Go! Get out of here, you unholy-! Go tell your masters they have what they wanted, and we'll be ready to choke them on it!"

Darla winked at him, turned, and sidled away.

"So this is it." Lilah Morgan turned the box over in her hands. "The Six-Metal Prison. Where did we even hear about this?"

Holland Manners smiled. "A new intern with undeniable initiative. I like him. Fellow named Knox. Has some unusual religious beliefs, but far be it from me to discriminate."

"Hadn't met him yet." She tried to keep track of the interns, though in truth probably only the telepaths ever managed to know everyone.

"He's with a subsidiary. Applied Sciences and Occult division."

Lilah tilted her head, lifted one eyebrow. "Didn't know we even had that."

"If we didn't, we would now. He's absolutely brilliant. Anyway, he dug up some obscure text that suggested the Slayer was originally one of a great many living weapons, and that they were imprisoned in this...device."

It seemed so...small. She suspected it would be better to hold it still, but she couldn't resist the urge to keep rolling it over and over. "Maybe you should take it. Something about it..."

Holland shrugged. "They feel a need to be free. Don't we all?"

"If it is a prison, how do we open the door?"

"In fact that would seem to be easier than we expected. There are two methods, and which is easier depends on the resources at hand. First, it has a flaw, though perhaps a deliberate one. There is a miniscule crack in the corner. Knox found it almost at once. Just enough space for a single weapon to almost escape, though a tiny thread passing through the crack tethers it to the prison. He believes a vitriol-pumped laser would bore through it at that point and free them into the world. Unfortunately, we're not certain we can control their release."

"Definitely not a desirable thing."

"No. The alternative, however, is likely easier said than done. When Buffy Summers was clinically dead four years ago, the weapon attempted to pass to another, but she was revived too quickly and it was drawn fully into her, allowing a second essence to escape. It bonded to one Kendra Young, and at Kendra's death passed to Faith Lehane, whom I believe you know."

"So we kill Faith." That shouldn't be too difficult. The girl was in prison. "We can do that. Riots happen."

"Uh-uh-uh, Lilah. We do have to kill her, yes, but then she must be revived. Otherwise the next Slayer to be called will simply retain the same essence. Therefore we have to use some caution. It wouldn't do to have her beheaded, for instance." Holland rubbed his hands together. "We have our resources, but I'm trusting you to use some finesse."

"Won't we have to kill and revive each person who gets the next one? I'd hate to have a murder spree of young girls on the news." Probably it would never be connected to Wolfram and Hart, but why take chances?

"We'll be looking into our options, Lilah, but I'd rather see you succeed. I'm sure you'd rather succeed as well. Wouldn't you?"

A faint shiver ran through her. "Of course I would. One more question, sir."

Holland smiled. "Feel free, Lilah. You're a valued member of the team, and we want you fully on board with this."

"Are we really going to give the 'uncorrupted' essences back to the Watcher's Council?" While they didn't tangle with the Slayer on a regular basis, one girl in all the world was surely enough to cause some hassle. Hundreds would be worse, much worse.

Holland held out his hands. "Toss it here." With a shrug, she did so. "Why not? You just gave them to me. Utterly useless like this, of course, but here they are. The price for releasing them, by contrast, is certainly much higher than the Council could pay. Wouldn't you agree?"

Lilah released a disbelieving chuckle. "You utter ass."

Holland shook his head and laughed along with her. "Nonsense. I'm a perfectly reasonable man."

Faith's eyes were closed. The sun shone down on her. It was nice out here. It was warm. Too bad she didn't get to come out here more often, but at least the other inmates had learned to leave her alone. Alone in general, alone especially when she was relaxing. For that matter, the guards mostly left her alone too, even at times when they felt the need to make a show of force. If you had to be in jail, sunny southern California was the place to be there.

She felt the blow ages before it landed and caught it one-handed. All right, not everyone had learned her place in the pecking order yet. A second fist, which she caught in her other hand.

The third slammed into her abs. The owner of that fist regretted her action at once. Slayer strength didn't depend on muscles, but Faith kept hers rock hard. It was a matter of pride. Also of looking dangerous, which up till now had kept even the new blood off of her.

Only then did Faith bother to open her eyes. Good for her. The next comer wasn't depending on fisticuffs; she had a shiv. With a sigh, Faith disabused her by knocking the blade across the yard. "Anyone else want a piece of this?" The prisoners drew back, shaking their heads.

Which revealed the corrections officer holding a gun on Faith. "You causing trouble, Lehane?" Faith put up her hands, shaking her head.

"No ma'am. No trouble here."

The officer gave her a wry, skeptical grin and squared her stance. "I think you are, Lehane. I think you're instigating a riot. Stand down."

"I'm not even standing up." Buffy had been a bad influence. Any moment now and she'd be punning.

The officer-Faith realized she didn't recognize "Worrell" (according to her badge) as anyone she'd ever seen before-sneered. "Hands up and weapons down, Lehane. Oh, right...you can't do both. Looks like I might just have to fire on you."

"Ma'am, I swear, all you have to do is cuff me if you think I'm a threat." She held up her hands, running through possibilities in her head. Maybe some actual rogue element of the police had it in for her; she was a murderer after all. Possibly Wolfram and Hart were after her for not killing Angel for them. Most likely, however, she was up against the ever-so-righteous Watchers' Council of Great Bloody Britain. They'd tried to kill her twice already, though once they'd taken Buffy by extremely understandable mistake, since they'd been body-swapped right then. Or it could just be somebody in the pay of some demons. Slayers always had a fan club there.

"No, no...wait, did I hear the word 'threat'? Are you threatening me, Lehane? Is that right?" None of this chatter was necessary. This woman, at least, was just a cop, a dirty cop but one who still had to talk herself up to killing a prisoner in cold blood.

"I swear to you, ma'am, whoever put you up to this I can deal with-"

Worrell opened fire. The first shot went wild. She really didn't want to do this. But by the second shot she'd worked herself up to continue, and it was a good thing Faith was already in a forward roll. She squeezed off a third shot as Faith slammed into her legs and dragged her to the ground. Blow to the back of the head. Not nearly as safe as Giles made it look-that man must have a skull of steel-but safer than letting the woman keep firing at her.

"She's attacking the guards!" Goddamnit!

And a squad in riot gear entered the yard.

There was no way this was coincidence. They'd layered their threats-to make her drop her guard, probably; to ensure that the backup of the backup had backup, certainly; and most importantly, to make it look as if Faith had done the escalating. Well, she could handle this too.

"You! Hands in the air!"

Faith put her hands in the air. Not the way they wanted. She had no name for the stance she assumed, though she had used it many times. It was the stance Slayers used, she figured. She put her fists up; she spread her feet out; she stood almost straight, crouching just enough to show readiness to attack.

She launched herself forward like a bolt of thunder. Faith feinted low, as if to sweep out the legs of her nearest opponent, and struck high. Riot helmet cracked into riot helmet, and two guards were down. Too close for the rest to open fire; she was in the midst of them now. Knee to groin. Knee to groin. That was two more, though only the one on her left was shrieking in agony; people didn't seem to understand that a groin attack hurt a woman almost as much as a man.

That left two standing. Her fist went through the face shield of the one on her right.

The last one shoved his gun at her face and fired. Her kick swept his legs out from under him, just an instant too late.

Faith parted her lips and spat the bullet from between her teeth. She hadn't realized she could do that. Then again, how else would you find out? Foot to gut. That was the last one. The other inmates were cowering along the wall, hoping not to be noticed. Now she either needed to pound on the door and shout for help-which might work or might get her riddled with bullets-or else it was time to make like a tree and skedaddle.

Yeah, it was clear how her mind worked. She took a running jump, kicked off the backboard of the basketball goal, and landed atop the barbed wire over the chain link fence. From there-

"Open fire! Shoot to kill!"

More riot gear. A full SWAT team just outside the fence.

A little niggling presence was creeping up on her, a tiny but mysterious figure whose name was Fear. Fear that her unseen enemy would just keep escalating until they got her. Gunfire shrieked past her like invisible traffic on the freeway, and she ran for her life, leaping from the end of the fence.

They were waiting when she came down. She landed in a sprawl of bodies, scrambling, slamming her feet wherever she could find purchase, trying to rise and run for it. Someone clubbed her in the head with a gun butt; she barely noticed in all the confusion. Arms seized hers and yanked her down. "Dodge this, you little bitch," one of them snarled, and held a gun to her face. Thrashing, she was too filled with fury to stop fighting and hope he spared her. Not that he would anyway, not now. With ten people atop her, she lunged sideways, rolling her head.

There was a roar in her ear as the bullet creased her skin and ricocheted off her skull into the pavement. Faith felt something hot on her forehead-probably blood-and the furious shooter put the gun's barrel to her eye. "Let's have done with it."

roar without sound

words without speech

sight without comprehension

Get the paddles! in v-fib! Now! Now!

Thought we weren't supposed to

Not gone yet

Back of her head blown out she's

Paddles on her chest Fire all through her

Clear!

Come back to us

Clear!

you bitch

Clear!

just for a second

"We've got a pulse she's..."

Gray

noth

ing

"Well?"

"The op went well as far as killing Lehane."

"And?" Holland Manners was being short with him.

"I don't know, bossman. They restarted her heart; she's in the hospital. And...there's a power core gone from the Prison. We saw it vanish. But we don't know where it is."

"Knox, son, you know as well as I do: that's unacceptable." So disappoint.

"I think maybe what we were detecting wasn't the power cores so much as their interaction with the Prison. When it left, there was nothing there for us to pick up. We can't find it. I've got no idea where to start."

"So it's just...out there. Wandering. In the head of some poor girl who has no idea what she's carrying around with her. Isn't that a shame? No idea how to fulfill her purpose. No purpose, really. Is that the kind of legacy you want to leave, Knox?" Shake of the head. Sad stare.

"No, sir, it really isn't. Please give me another chance. We have the remaining option with the laser."

"Explain to me what the laser's going to do, Knox." Holland could be so fatherly when he wants. Knox didn't care much for his own father. The old man was, after all, only human.

"What we're calling a crack is not so much a crack in the purely physical sense. There is a region of the Prison that forms an intererence pattern. A power core can slip out through it, but only if certain parameters are met. We think that's how they were reprogrammed to seek out young girls. The pattern burns programming restrictions into them, so to speak. Using the laser will burn out the interference pattern and turn that region completely transparent."

"Which will allow the powers to escape." Knox nodded. "Can we stop them from just flooding out? Because, son, you don't want to find out what I might have to do to someone who causes the company a disaster on that scale."

"I believe that we can pulse the laser in a way that will only temporarily negate the pattern. It'll have to be timed exactly right to let one out instead of four or five." Knox was hedging. He thought he could do it, but the truth was this was all speculation. "And without the interference pattern, it'll go for the nearest suitable host according to its original programming, which should make it easier to find." I hope.

"It had better be right the first time, Knox. One loss is bad enough." Manners frowned, thinking. "I'm going to consult with Lilah on this matter. If she agrees with me, we'll go ahead. If she disagrees...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Back to the laboratory, son. Get your laser properly timed, and we'll see."

Lilah knew she should tell Holland Manners no.

"I'm not certain we have any other options that will meet our obligations, now that we've made them." Holland paced back and forth, a sign of how extremely upset he was. "But if any further problems arise, our lives may be on the line even if the Senior Partners forgive us."

Darla just sat quietly in the corner and watched. It wasn't like her. She kept her eyes on LIlah, searching for any sign of weakness. Still, from what Lilah knew of her she'd much rather be out making trouble of her own, not waiting to see whether this operation went to pieces. Drusilla danced around the room, comparing everyone to her imaginary dolls.

"I really do want your input, Lilah. We have no good options at this point. I personally am inclined to think the laser release is our best bet, but if you think it'll backfire on us, iplease/i. Speak your mind."

We don't actually know what we're playing with, Holland. The words caught in her throat. We need to look out for our guaranteed interests, not double down and bet again.

"It's your call, Holland. You're the man in charge here."

"And I'll take the fall if it goes badly, is that what you're suggesting?"

Lilah threw up her hands. "Of course you will," she admitted. "That's just the way it goes. I'm not looking to betray you; I owe you a lot. I honestly believe that it's a better alternative than apologizing and shipping the Prison back to Sunnyhell."

"Your honesty means a lot to me, Lilah. Thank you. I'll tell Knox to go forward, then."

Stop! a small part of her wanted to tell him. You're rubbing the wrong lamp here and there's no telling what genie you'll let out. Only, going through with it was her best imaginable chance for advancement. She could rocket past everyone in the favor of the Wolf, Ram, and Hart, if only she did this for them.

She held her tongue and let him walk away.

Doctor Patel took one look at Lehane's chart and shook his head. "I can't imagine what they're keeping her on life support for. I know she came back from a supposedly permanent coma before, but virtually her entire occipital lobe is gone. This is... If she's aware at all in there, all this is doing is prolonging her suffering."

"This is what her guardians wanted," the nurse pointed out. "They constitute her next of kin, so unless and until we can prove they're in serious error regarding her well-being, it's not our place to overrule them."

"Yes, but..." Was there really a 'but' here? Well, perhaps there was. "Let's get a good look at those papers. She deserves to pass on, doesn't she? Not be anchored forever to a life she can't have?"

"Might be premature, doc!"

Patel looked up to see Denise Jones rush in. The intern was promising-intelligent and generally level-headed. Why did she seem so agitated now? "How so?" he said, trying not to sound contemptuous. It was important to humor people with talent sometimes, so as not to crush them.

"I read up on her old paperwork and she had some unusual tissue workups done, back in the day. So I took samples."

"Of her brain?" Dr. Patel shook his head. "I know there's no chance of revival, but that's risky behavior with any relatives or guardians, Denise."

"Actually, sir, um...I'm seeing signs of...that is, she's...there's growth, sir. Slow growth, but steady. I can't say what her memory will be like after this, but...she's regenerating."

Darla leaned in closer. "Tell me something, Lilah. You ever think of taking over this place?"

Lilah eyed the vampire warily. She was altogether too close to Lilah's neck. At least Drusilla had gone out for a snack. "Not really. I mean, Holland's spot is cushy, but he also has the constant attention and, ahem, supervision of the Senior Partners. I don't think I want that."

Darla's smirk grew wider. "I don't think you're understanding me. I'm not talking about taking over from Holland Manners. I'm talking about taking over from the Senior Partners."

There was a long silence before Lilah responded to this notion. "What."

"I'm saying, serve no master but your own ambition."

Finally Lilah understood. "You want to turn me. Look, Darla, I appreciate the notion but I don't think even that will get me out of the perpetuity clause—"

Darla slammed a hand down on her shoulder. "You don't get it. I'm not proposing to turn you. I am offering you something much, much better."

"Better than…." There was a moment, at last, when it sank in. The enormity of what Holland had done. The utter, mind-blowing stupidity of it. And the opportunity that it represented. Not for Holland. Not even for the Wolf, Ram, and Hart.

For her.

"You have a deal."

Darla's face contorted, and Lilah saw up close what she had only ever seen from a comfortable distance, even with Angel. The change. "Vamping out." Darla's demonic face rose to break the surface of her humanity, and her jaws clamped shut on Lilah Morgan's neck. Life drained out of Lilah's veins. Her heartbeat slowed and stuttered. Her lungs labored to breathe. Blackness closed in.

Darla clawed open her left wrist and pressed it to Lilah's lips, and Lilah drank eagerly, greedily. That was the metaphysics of it, after all. Blood equaled life. More life than Lilah could ever have imagined consuming, possessing. Something changed in Darla's eyes. "Enough." Lilah kept drinking. "I said enough. Stop!"

Lilah tried. She honestly did make the attempt. The order was beyond her capability to follow. Power flowed down her throat. Power spread through her body. She could no more have stopped than a tree could stop drinking in the sun. Darla's face grew gaunt. "Stop it! I didn't- Stop! Please!" The vampire broke apart into dust that scattered as if on an invisible wind and was gone.

Lilah sagged. Her body felt full to bursting with power. Yet at the same time, her legs were buckling beneath her. Her heart stopped. Her lungs refused to inflate. Her…her thoughts….

Lilah crumpled to the floor like the paperwork for a rejected appeal.

Holland Manners' concerned face swam in and out of her vision. "Lilah? LIlah, are you there?"

Lilah blinked slowly. "I suppose I am. What happened?" Speech seemed difficult; some of her words wanted to slur together.

"I was hoping you could tell me. There's no sign of Darla, and Drusilla is in no state to talk to us. Though I must say she's difficult to understand at the best of times. She's been either ecstatic or distraught, and it's hard to say which."

"Well, I was under the impression that Darla turned me. In which case, no, technically, I'm not really here, am I?" She slid her hands underneath her and tried to sit up.

"What a horrible conclusion to have to make," Manners said, and gently attempted to hold her back. "As it happens, we expected so. You've been lying here for five days with no vital signs. But we were alerted to your waking by the fact that your breathing resumed on its own and your body temperature returned to normal. It is very metabolically obvious that you're alive."

Lilah showed him a puzzled frown. "What about my heartbeat?"

"Well, there's the rub, Lilah. You don't have one. And though you show no other anatomical signs, your canine teeth have elongated. You do have a reflection, so there is that. Frankly, we're having some problems determining what you are."

"And Darla? Why's Drusilla so upset?"

"She insists Darla turned to dust and is gone. Except when she insists that Darla is still here. We can't make heads or tails of her account. We've actually been considering putting her on anti-psychotics."

Well, she's right on both counts. I suppose this could have its perks

Excuse me? Darla?

In the flesh. Your flesh instead of mine. Pay attention to the nice man.

"...Lilah? Did you hear me? I said that vampires are known to respond to at least some psychotherapeutic drugs, if not always well."

"Well, it won't come to that, I don't think. If I'm not dead, I can't very well be a vampire, now can I?" She gave Manners her most winning smile.

"True, true. And in all honesty, you know we don't care about any of that. Your perpetuity clause would still hold and frankly, I can't think of a better place for you but to keep you in the courts, on our side. We iare/i going to give you a full medical workup, but have no fear-I'm sure it will show you have a clean bill of health." He rose from her bedside. "I'm going to let you recover, Lilah. Get yourself some rest."

"Thank you, Holland. I'll see you soon." Darla? Is that you? What the hell happened?

Your guess is as good as mine. I've been awake a little while, but you have total control of the body, I'm afraid.

As soon as she heard Holland close the outer door, Lilah sat up hastily and went into the bathroom. There she was in the...no. That wasn't her in the mirror. Holland had said he saw her reflection, but what she saw, at least, was Darla in Lilah's hospital gown, who gazed at the image with a certain degree of wonder.

I see it too. Wow, it's been ages. Sorry I can't tell you if it's real.

We'll work that out soon enough. So you made as if to turn me and then...this happened. Whatever it is.

I haven't the faintest idea what came over me. Suddenly I just wasn't myself. I'd never have tried that on my own. Hey, till I get out of here, I expect you to let me have some fun every now and then. Don't worry, no blood. The idea makes me nauseous. Darla pretended to gag herself over the sink. So very dramatic.

We'll see. Depends on what you want.

Sex. Drugs. Maybe rock and roll? I'm not exactly a woman of my own time.

Lilah studied the other woman's expression in the mirror. Darla looked amused, but also...desperate. Confused and dismayed at her situation, no doubt. Okay, well...I'll get those things and see if you can enjoy them. Fair enough?

Darla shrugged and waggled her head from side to side. It'll have to do.

Lilah made herself up a little-they'd left her purse with her-and strolled casually out of the bathroom. With a little persuasion, she'd be out of this two-bit company medical facility and back home in half an hour or so. She had her suit half on when a whirlwind burst through the door.

"Let her out let her out let grandmum out!" Drusilla tore into her with the raging fury of a mad hellspawn-which she was, of course. Talons sliced her dress; fangs snapped at her throat. "Grandmum! They're all gone! I'm all alone! Daddy and Grandmum and my sweet prince! How dare you take her! How dare you-?"

The torrent of screams halted as Drusilla realized she was no longer clawing at Lilah. Her arms were pinned fast to the wall. By Lilah. Who was holding her with barely a struggle. Lilah could feel the strain in her muscles, but not to the immense degree that should have been required to hold a vampire of Dru's caliber. That should have taken a professional wrestler. Or two. Or five. Lilah stared curiously at the vampire. Something-an alien form with green scales, tiny pebbled horns on its forehead, a maw of sharp teeth-was transparently superimposed on the shape of a human girl.

"Be in-" Drusilla began an attempt at entrancing Lilah...then her eyes widened and her mouth closed.

Dru? Sweetheart? Can you hear me? You could always hear me, even when I didn't want you to.

"Grandmum?" Drusilla sniffled. "You sound so far away. Why are you so far away from me?"

Lilah realized her best choice here was silence. I don't know. Poor Drusilla. I'm so sorry. But I have a pet for us to play with. Lilah, would you mind?

Though she'd never been prudish, the torrent of emotion and desire coming from Darla was alien to Lilah. Drusilla was simultaneously granddaughter and lover. Well, when sex was entirely divorced from reproduction, Lilah supposed something was bound to give way. I've been involved in much stranger things since I joined the firm. Which was also entirely true. "Dru, dear, I don't mind. Please, though, keep the bloodplay to a minimum. It wouldn't do to hurt grandmum while she's inside me."

"Oh. Oh dear. Poor grandmum. How sad for her." Drusilla's tenderness seemed at odds with her yellow eyes and sharp fangs, yet Lilah couldn't help feel that it was genuine. Dru's fangs brushed against Lilah's neck, but only brushed. Her lips came to rest on Lilah's.

Well, what the hell. Lilah returned the kiss, even going so far as to nick her tongue on Drusilla's fangs. Drusilla moaned and snuggled against her. Inside Lilah's head, Darla moaned back. It was just another way of sleeping your way to the top, Lilah supposed. She almost asked Darla if she remembered the offer she'd made, then thought better of it. This was not the time.

Darla? Lilah wondered idly if anyone had been watching them on the monitors. Well, she hoped they'd enjoyed the show. Lilah was certainly not repulsed by women, and she'd been attracted to a few in her day. Just not so many as she had men. Drusilla was quite pretty, though it was hard to get past her cold clamminess even in the throes of passion. The little thing was curled up under her left arm at present, every now and then snoring faintly. Was it good for you too?

Delightful. A little distant, but not so much that I couldn't enjoy it.

Great! Now tell me what that offer was about earlier, and I'll go home and get us good and drunk. That would be a start on the drugs part, at least. Probably Darla had more exotic tastes in mind, at least eventually.

I'll be honest. I'm not entirely sure. I meant every word, though, including taking over from the Senior Partners.

The powers stored in the Prison. That must be it. I don't know why they went into you first, though, or why they didn't just empower you. Lilah found that she was idly stroking Drusilla's hair. Dru stirred and ran a hand up Lilah's side.

Well, if they were meant to make Slayers...

That could be it. I don' t know. I do know that I saw the demon in Dru when she came into the room. The actual demon inside her body. She couldn't see it right now, though she wasn't sure why that mattered. Also, I forced her off me right after, when she attacked. I was stronger than she was. That wasn't the degree of power she needed to replace the Senior Partners, but it was power.

Who says that's all you can do?

Well, let's give Dru a chance to wake up. Then we'll find out if there's more. This was nice, but there had better be more. It was a taste of power, sure.

Lilah wanted the all-you-can-eat buffet.

She knew she shouldn't be here, not dressed like this. That was what they'd say, at least, though of course that would (and should) never fly in court. As a matter of practicality, though, strolling down the street after dark in this part of town in a dress that was little more than lingerie was a blatant invitation.

In my day, they'd have put you in the stocks just for wearing it.

Ah, the morals of the righteous. Lilah tried to understand why the catcalls were so intermittent and suddenly realized they were starting up when she passed beneath streetlights. It was so dark that she was near-invisible away from them. Well, as long as she was attracting attention.

Just in case, she had stashed pepper spray and a handgun in her purse, but she didn't expect to need them. She had manhandled Drusilla with ease. Unless she encountered something like a Fyarl demon, she anticipated a very satisfying evening.

"Hey babe! You advertisin'?" A group of three was approaching, each of them a bruiser.

Lilah put on her best neutral expression and let a hint of fear creep into her eyes. "Not for sale, boys. I just want to walk."

"Dressed like that? C'mon, baby, gimme a kiss." That one grabbed her by the wrist.

Lilah wrenched herself free. Or rather, tried to. Her hand slid out of his with so little effort that she nearly stumbled backwards. He might as well have been a child. She drew back her fist and slammed him in the face.

"Ow!" Lilah pulled her hand back. Not only had she hurt herself, he barely even looked dazed. And angry. What the hell? Darla?

Try grabbing and holding him.

If you say so. Lilah seized him by the wrist and twisted. Not only did he cry out in pain, in half a moment she had wrenched him around in front of her, hands caught behind his back.

Something about this is off. I don't know quite what's happening, but...you tried to roundhouse him in the face and that failed. But holding him, even dragging him around, that's working. Know any other holds? Or something more subtle than a fist in the face?

Lilah slammed the one she had into his nearest ally, sending them both down in a flailing heap. The third came for her, and she dodged nimbly aside, jabbing him in the ribs as she did so. She felt something crack. At the last moment, she slipped a foot between his, sending him to the ground. At once she dropped down next to him. Maybe it's the quipping? She'd known demons with weirder power sets than that. "Were you this rough with your first girl? Or was she this rough with you? Is it only good for you that way?"

The thug blinked at her and recoiled. "What do you know about my first time?" Struggling to his feet, he stared at her wide-eyed, shaking his pointing finger at her. "Nobody knows about that! Nobody! What are you, lady, some kind of witch?"

She drew herself up proudly and gave him her most vicious smirk. "What do you think?"

"Clear out, guys. This one's got some kind of freaky mind powers." Without another word, the bruised would-be rapists clambered to their feet and scurried away, tails between their legs.

That was great, once I got it working right. But what the hell did I do there? He seemed to think I'd read his mind, but I don't have a clue what he was talking about.

I don't think you read his memories, Darla responded. I couldn't tell exactly what you did, but I felt something...I think you changed them. I think he had a good first time, but you ruined his memory of it.

Huh. He deserves it. Lilah thought about what she'd learned so far and decided it was time to get moving. She could try something else tomorrow. But, Darla, I've never heard of the Slayer having powers like that.

As far as I know, she doesn't. I don't know what was in the Prison exactly, but...I think you're something else. Something else entirely.