Chapter 11: What's My Line Part 1
November 24, 1997 – Monday
Dawn, Buffy and Faith were sitting with Xander in the lounge the day of the Sunnydale Career Fair, staring down at their test forms. Banners hung from the walls, reminding students that Career Fair Starts Tomorrow, and at a table across the room, the school guidance counselor sat sagely behind another sign which read, Vocational Aptitude Tests.
As Buffy lifted her eyes, she saw Willow come in and grab a test, then walk over to join them.
"Are you a people person or do you prefer keeping your own company?" Xander read solemnly from his test. He paused, his brow furrowing. "What if I'm a people person who keeps his own company by default?"
"So, mark 'none of the above,'" Buffy said.
"There is no box for none of the above. That would introduce too many variables into their mushroom-head, number-crunching little world."
Willow beamed Xander a smile. "I'm sensing bitterness."
"It's just, these people can't tell from one multiple choice test what we're supposed to do for the rest of our lives," Xander grumbled. "It's ridiculous."
Willow's eyes widened. "I'm kind of curious to find out what sort of career I could have."
"Same here," said Dawn.
"And suck all the spontaneity out of being young and stupid?" said Xander. "I'd rather live in the dark."
"We won't be young forever," Willow reminded him.
"I'll always be stupid," Xander shot back. And then, when nobody commented, he added, "Okay, let's not all rush to disagree . . ."
The four glanced up at the sound of Cordelia's voice. She was heading straight toward them, test form in hand, flanked by her usual group of Cordelia wannabes. "'I aspire to help my fellow man,'" she read aloud. "Check."
She stopped, making a decisive mark on her paper. And then she cocked her head and frowned. "I mean, as long as he's not, like, smelly or dirty or something gross," she clarified.
"Cordelia Chase," Xander sighed, "always ready to offer a helping hand to the rich and pretty."
Cordelia regarded him with a frosty smile. "Which, lucky me, excludes you twice!" She moved off again, her Cordettes tittering as they followed.
Xander leveled an impassive stare at her back. "Is murder always a crime?" he asked hopefully.
Buffy glanced down the list of questions in front of her. Then she looked up with a frown. "Do I like shrubs?" she asked looking at Dawn.
"No clue," answered Dawn. "I do know what your results will be." Buffy looked at her as to ask how? "During the five months you were dead I went through yours and mom's stuff with Willow and Tara. I found your results… Law enforcement."
"Really?" said Buffy as Dawn nodded.
"Might not be a bad idea after college to go to the police academy," said Dawn. "You could then be paid for protecting people."
"I'll think about it," said Buffy.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
It was usually quiet in the cemetery, but tonight a storm was threatening.
Dawn and Buffy walked among the graves, every sense alert to potential danger. This would be the last stop on their patrol tonight, and they were both tired, eager to get home. Dead leaves tumbled across the ground, scraping over headstones, riding a stiff wind. And yet suddenly there came a different sound—not the stealthy brewing of thunderclouds, but a closer, more distinct sound—one they'd never heard before.
Dawn and Buffy stopped, listening. The sound came again—tink tink tink—and they frowned, trying to place it.
Their eyes wandered slowly over dark tombstones and shadows.
Then Dawn noticed something. "Buffy," she said motioning toward a mausoleum stood slightly apart from the other graves, rising high above them in moldering splendor. Buffy followed Dawn's gaze, then they began moving toward it.
The sound was louder now. As Buffy and Dawn neared the front of the mausoleum, they could tell that the noise came from inside, and to thetr surprise they saw that the solid iron door was standing open. An eerie glow of light flickered across the threshold. They looked in.
A torch was set in the ground, and it was this light that threw its macabre shadows over the gloomy, rotting interior of the tomb. As Buffy and Dawn watched, they could see a dark figure pressed close to the far wall, so absorbed in its work that it had no idea they were even there. It seemed to be intent on one of the vault doors, and as the lock finally broke, Buffy and Dawn saw the thief open the vault and grab something from inside.
Quickly the sisters hurried out again. Buffy and Dawn positioned themselves at the bottom of the mausoleum steps, arms folded casually across their chest as the figure came out.
"Does 'rest in peace' have no sanctity to you people?" Buffy asked in mock surprise. "Oh, I forgot—you're not people."
The vampire froze where he stood. He clutched a red velvet bag in one hand and prepared to defend himself. He didn't think Dawn or Buffy had heard the other two vampires sneaking up behind them. As they pulled out wooden stakes, the new creatures lifted their claws and poised for attack.
Dawn and Buffy simultaneously wheeled without warning, knocking the vampires back with a vicious, jump kick. Buffy grabbed hers and drove his head into a tree trunk. Dawn drove hers into the side of a mausoleum.
The vampires crumpled to the ground. Buffy and Dawn plunged their stakes into the vampires' chests and watched them explode into dust.
"Two down," Dawn declared triumphantly, then she and Buffy spun, ready to take on the remaining vampire.
But he wasn't there.
They gazed at the empty steps of the mausoleum. "One gone," Buffy mumbled, bewildered.
Buffy and Dawn stood for several minutes, straining their ears through the night. They picked up no sound of the remaining vampire. So they headed for Dawn's car and home.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn walked through the front door and set her purse and keys down on the table by the door. She saw Angel sitting on the couch with Chloe.
"Angel," she said.
"I was just letting your Watcher know that I am leaving at the end of the week," he admitted. "And to ask you what would be a good way of saying goodbye to Buffy."
"Be gentle," said Dawn. "When you left last time around it hurt her a little. Of course, that was when you and she were still seeing each other up till almost graduation. Maybe take her someplace she enjoys.
"That would be?" he wondered.
Dawn smiled as she pulled a photo album off a shelf and flipped through it to the picture she was looking for, of a younger Buffy, figure skating and performing a perfect arabesque. She showed Angel and Chloe the picture. "Her Dorothy Hamill phase. Her room in L.A. was a major shrine—Dorothy posters, Dorothy dolls. She even got a Dorothy haircut. Mom and Dad even paid for her to take lessons. She was entered into the Regionals. She loves skating."
"When was the last time she put on her skates?" Chloe asked.
"I don't remember," admitted Dawn.
"There's a rink out past Route Seventeen," Angel said. "It's closed on Tuesdays."
"Sounds good," said Dawn. "I can drive her there and we'll meet you there."
November 25, 1997 - Tuesday
The outcomes of the aptitude tests had been posted.
As students milled about between classes, Xander and Cordelia stood in front of the large sign in the palm court, anxiously reading over the lists, searching for their names.
"Here I am!" Cordelia announced "Personal shopper or motivational speaker. Neato!"
"Motivational speaker?" Xander's look was mildly shocked. "On what? 'Ten steps to a more annoying you'?"
"Oh," Cordelia threw back at him. "And what about you? You're—"
Once again, she scanned the lists, this time finding his name. With a burst of laughter, she shook her head and moved off into the crowd, leaving Xander desperately staring at the sign.
"What? What?" he asked looking for his name.
Dawn walked up next to Xander and looked for her own name.
Xander looked at Dawn, severely disturbed. "Wouldn't you two you know me about as well as anyone?" he demanded. "Maybe even better than I know myself?"
"Yeah," said Dawn.
"When you look at me, do you think prison guard?"
Dawn looked at Xander and smiled. "Prison guard, no. Construction worker, yes."
"Construction?" said Xander.
Dawn nodded. "That's what you do in the future. You work in construction. You even eventually start your own company."
Xander thought about it and then nodded as he smiled. "I like that."
Dawn turned back to look for her name. She blinked, once, twice, three times when she found her name missing. "Xander, do you see my name?"
Xander looked at the list, he saw Buffy's but not Dawn's. "No, weird. Maybe that means you passed?"
"It's not the kind of test you pass or fail," Dawn reminded him.
He headed off for class, leaving Dawn to stare after him.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The books were just about to fall.
As Giles tried to set them down on the library table, the whole stack tilted and began to topple over, when Buffy suddenly caught them.
"Oh, Buffy." Giles smiled his relief. "Thank you."
Together Buffy and Giles eased the stack down safely while Giles continued to talk.
"Chloe and I've been indexing the Watcher Diaries covering the past two centuries," he said to Dawn and Buffy as Chloe came out with another stack of books.
"You'd be amazed at how pompous and long-winded some of these Watchers were," said Chloe as she looked at Buffy. She so wanted to kiss her girlfriend right then.
Buffy smiled at Chloe. "Color me stunned."
"I trust last night's patrol was fruitful," Giles went on, opening a notebook.
"Semi," Dawn admitted. "We caught two out of three vamps. The third one stole something from a mausoleum at the cemetery—"
"They were stealing?" Giles broke in.
"Yep. They had tools and the whole nine yards." Buffy paused, then asked, "What does that mean? The whole nine yards . . . nine yards of what? Now that's gonna bug me all day."
She pondered this a moment longer, then realized Giles was pacing, visibly disturbed.
"Giles, you're in pace mode," Buffy scolded. "What gives?"
"The vampire who escaped, did you see what he took?"
Dawn looked at Buffy who shook her head. "Sorry, we were busy with the other two. Didn't get a good look."
"So, you both made no effort to find out what was taken?" Giles persisted.
"Ease off, Giles," said Chloe. "Dawn just admitted they didn't get a good enough look."
"Chloe," said Giles, "this could be very serious. If they'd made more of an effort to be thorough in their observations—"
"If you don't like the way we're doing our job," Buffy broke in, hurt, "why don't you find someone else? Oh right, Kendra is the only officially called Slayer currently, since I died and Dawn isn't called for a few more years, and she's in Jamaica. So, if Dawn and I die then you can get Kendra here to take over."
"That's not funny," said Chloe with tears in her eyes. "You know how much I love you, Buffy."
Buffy pulled Chloe into an embrace instantly regretting her words. "Sorry, baby."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Career Fair was up and running. By two-thirty that afternoon, Sunnydale students were clustered eagerly around the booths that had been set up in the school lounge. Each booth was manned by representatives from various professions; all of them were there to give advice, offer encouragement, hand out information, and convince students that the real world is fun.
Dawn drifted through the crowds. Her eyes went from one booth to the next—physician, postal worker, police officer—but she still didn't know where she belonged.
"What are you doing here?" Xander teased, coming up to her. "Fly! Be free, little bird—you defy category!"
"I'm looking for Buffy," Dawn told him.
"She's not back yet," said Xander.
Dawn nodded in understanding Buffy had left with Giles and Chloe to find out what the vampire had stolen.
Xander noticed that Principal Snyder was right beside them. He immediately began to talk. "Principal Snyder! Great Career Fair, sir. Really. In fact, I'm so inspired by your leadership, I'm thinking of principal school. I want to walk in your shoes." Xander hesitated, glancing down at the principal's feet. "Not your actual shoes, of course. Because you're a tiny person. Not tiny in the small sense, of course . . ." His voice trailed off. He nodded emphatically. "Okay. Done now."
Principal Snyder didn't even grace this with a remark. "Where is she?" he asked Dawn.
Dawn looked innocently back at him. "Who?"
"Your cousin."
"Family emergency," said Dawn. "Aunt Joyce is out of town on business for the Gallery so Buffy is dealing with something at Marie's school. She should be back any minute."
The principal gave Dawn a curious look. Almost as though he were studying some rare and dangerous insect. "Fascinating," he mumbled, and moved off.
"I'd love to stay and chat," Xander turned his attention back to Willow, "but I have an appointment with the warden on standard riot procedure."
"Okay," Dawn said. "See you." She gave a wave as he disappeared into the crowd.
"Dawn Summers?" a voice asked from behind her.
Dawn turned. Two men were standing there, one on either side of her, both wearing identical dark suits and extremely somber expressions. There was an air of supreme authority about them, rather than of danger.
"Come with us please?" one of the men said to her now.
"Excuse me?" Dawn said.
"Let's walk."
Reluctantly she allowed herself to be led past several booths, to a velvet cordon, then up into the elevated section of the lounge, which was now hidden behind a dark curtain. Two freestanding walls separated this area from the general population. Dawn was led inside. The space had been refurbished into a deco salon. Soft lighting illuminated the area, while a gentle bossa nova played from hidden speakers. On one wall hung a company logo, and as Dawn squinted at it, she realized it very much resembled that of Radica Games, one of the companies her Gray's Sports Almanac listed as being a company worthwhile to be invested in.
A white-gloved waiter approached her. He held out a silver tray of hors d'ouevres.
"Try the canapé," one of her escorts said. "It's excellent."
"What is all this?" Dawn asked.
"You've been selected to meet with Mr. McCarthy, head recruiter for Radica Games," one of the men explained. "The jet was delayed by fog at Sea-Tac, but he should be here any minute." He paused, then added politely, "Please. Make yourself comfortable."
He turned with his partner to leave, but Dawn stopped them. "But I didn't even get my test back," she said.
"The test was irrelevant," the first man replied. "We've been tracking you for some time. We're extremely selective. In fact, only two other Sunnydale students met our criteria."
The men exited through the partition. Dawn turned around to view her surroundings.
For the first time she realized she wasn't alone in here. Willow and Oz were sitting on the couch.
"Wow," said Dawn as she sat opposite Willow and Oz. "I didn't know this was now."
"Hmm?" said Willow as she glanced at Oz and then back at Dawn.
Dawn pulled out a pen and paper out of her backpack and scribbled on it: 'You told me about your career fair, meeting with some bigwig computer company.' She handed the paper to Willow who read it and then nodded.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Chloe and Giles tried to keep up with Buffy as she hurried through the cemetery. It was clear to them that her feelings were still hurt—she was obviously trying to lose Giles more than Chloe.
"Buffy," he sighed. "Please. Slow down."
"Get with the program, Giles," Buffy tossed back. "We have work to do, remember?"
"You're behaving in a terribly immature manner—"
"Giles," said Chloe. "She is a teenager."
"Chloe's right," agreed Buffy.
Giles struggled for the proper response. "I was simply offering a little constructive criticism—"
"You were harsh," Buffy set him straight. "You act like Dawn and I picked this gig. But Dawn and I are the picked. Too bad if we want a normal job."
"You can have a normal job," said Chloe.
"A cop?" said Buffy. "I admit Dawn's suggestion is tempting. But what if I don't want to do that?"
"Then don't," answered Chloe. "Find something you love. You could be a teacher, teaching martial arts. You could follow in your mom's footsteps and get an art degree. Your future is your own. Or have you forgotten why Dawn came back?"
"I haven't forgotten," admitted Buffy as they'd reached the mausoleum. "This is the place." She pulled open the heavy iron door and went in, Giles following.
Chloe stood outside looking at the name on the side of the mausoleum. "Giles, Buffy," she said calling them back outside. "I think I know what they might have stolen."
Giles followed Chloe's gaze to the name: Du Lac. "Oh dear . . ." he said with unmistakable concern.
"I hate when you say that," Buffy said flatly.
"Josephus du Lac is buried here," said Giles as he glanced at Chloe who nodded.
"Was he a saint?" asked Buffy.
"Hardly." Giles frowned. "He belonged to a sect of priests who were excommunicated by the Vatican at the turn of the century."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Excommunication and sent to Sunnydale. Must have been big with the sinning."
"Remember the book that was stolen from the library by a vampire a few weeks back?" Giles rushed on. "It was written by du Lac and his cohorts—" Frustrated, he broke off. then added, "Damn it. In all the excitement, I let it slip my mind."
"I'm guessing it wasn't a Taste of the Vatican cookbook," Buffy said hopefully.
"If it's the book I think it is," said Chloe. "It contained rituals and spells that reap unspeakable evil. However, it was written in archaic Latin, so nobody but the sect members could read it."
"Then everything's cool," Buffy tried to sound encouraging. "The sect is gone. Worm food like old du Lac, right?"
"I don't like it," Giles said. "First the book is taken from the library. Now vampires steal something from du Lac's tomb—"
"You think they've figured out how to read the book?" Buffy asked.
"There is no way of knowing," Chloe said. "But I believe Giles will agree that something's coming, Buffy. And I guarantee, whatever it is—it's not good."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
At the Sunnydale Bus Depot, a bus was just pulling in. It squealed to a stop in a huge cloud of exhaust, and the doors hissed open.
None of the passengers seemed remarkable. Inconspicuous faces in a weary crowd, they stepped off the bus and disappeared through the doors of the terminal, all bound for ordinary destinations.
Except for one.
This passenger was a veritable giant, standing a good seven feet tall in his enormous boots, and carrying a hard four-hundred pounds on his massive frame.
Greasy hair tangled over his shoulders. A thick, milky cataract covered one eye. His other eye was set deep in fleshy scars and carbuncles he called a face.
His name was Octarus.
And he was on a mission.
A mild-mannered man was striding down the sidewalk on Revello Drive, whistling and carrying a briefcase. He had a round moon-face and a sharply receding hairline, and he wore a suit much too large for his slight build.
His name was Mr. Pfister, and he was also on a mission.
He paused for a moment in front of Buffy's mailbox, reading the name Summers stencilled there.
Then he turned and headed up the walkway of the house next door.
He climbed the stoop and rang the doorbell. He mechanically adjusted the knot in his tie. And when a tired-looking housewife answered the door, he gave her his best salesman's smile.
"Mrs. Kalish?"
"Yes?" the woman answered suspiciously.
"I'm Norman Pfister, with Blush Beautiful Skin Care. I'm not selling anything, so I'm not asking you to buy." He held up his briefcase so she could see. "Just to accept a few free samples."
The woman's suspicions wavered. "Free?"
"Absolutely."
She considered this a moment before letting him in. Mr. Pfister walked past her, and she shut the door behind him.
There was no one else on this quiet street this afternoon.
No one to hear when Mrs. Kalish screamed.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
At the airport, a 767 had just come in for a landing.
As the huge jet engines revved down, the hatch opened to the cargo hold, and a baggage handler climbed inside. He was wearing a Walkman, with heavy metal blasting between his ears. He stopped for an instant and squinted into the dark recesses of the compartment as sunlight blasted in from the opening behind him.
Strange . . .
The young man peered over toward the cargo netting. For a second, he could have sworn there'd been a dark silhouette between those crates.
He shrugged. Probably only shadows . . .
He busied himself with the luggage, downloading it onto the conveyor belt. He paused long enough to fake the wild motions of a guitar solo, basking in make-believe applause.
And then he thought he saw it again.
Something darting behind that netting, just out of sight.
"What the hell—"
He killed the tape and started toward the shadows.
"Hey!" he called bravely. "You're not supposed to be in here."
No answer. He stopped, his courage faltering.
"Come on—" he started, but never got to finish.
The blows came out of nowhere, rocking him back on his heels. He fell in a heap on the floor, moaning slightly.
From some distant spot through his pain, he thought he heard the echo of footsteps. He thought he saw a shadow fall across him, then step over . . .
Slowly he lifted his eyes.
She was standing there, silhouetted in the doorway, gazing down at him.
A young woman—tall, slim, and exotic-looking—with mocha-colored skin and tight-fitting clothes.
Her forehead was high and wide, her cheekbones finely sculpted; her long black hair had been knotted at the back of her head, where it hung down her back in a thick ponytail. But it was her eyes which struck fear into the young man now—for even though he tried to look away from them, her stare seemed to hold him.
Her eyes were large and black, curiously almond-shaped. They were at the same time feline, feral, and altogether ruthless.
The eyes of a hunter. The eyes of a predator. To the young man's relief, she suddenly turned and jumped down onto the tarmac.
Her name was Kendra.
And there was much she had to do.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
School had been over for hours.
As soon as Buffy, Chloe and Giles had returned from the cemetery, they'd called Dawn, Faith, Xander and Willow to an emergency conference, and the seven of them had been gathered in the library ever since, discussing the du Lac tomb.
"So, Chloe and Giles are sure that the vampire who stole his book is connected to the ones you two slayed last night?" Willow asked Buffy and Dawn. "Or is it 'slew'?" she frowned.
"Both are correct," Giles said absentmindedly as he paced among bookshelves. At last he emerged from the stacks with a yellowed periodical. "And yes. I'm sure."
He set the magazine down before them. They could see now that it was a National Geographic, published in 1921.
"Du Lac was both a theologian and a mathematician," Giles explained. "This article described an invention of his, which he called the du Lac Cross—"
"Why go to all the trouble of inventing something and then give it a weak name like that?" Xander interrupted. "I'd have gone with 'Cross-o-matic!' or 'The Amazing Mr. Cross!' . . ."
He broke off as they all stared at him. Giles, ignoring Xander, opened the magazine, indicating a discolored photograph of the cross, while Willow began to peruse the accompanying article.
"The cross was more than a symbol," Giles went on. "It was also used to understand certain mystical texts, to decipher hidden meanings and so forth."
Buffy looked up at him, frowning. "You're saying these vampires went to all that trouble for your basic decoder ring?"
Giles regarded her blankly. And then he said, "Actually, I guess I am."
"According to the article," Chloe said, "du Lac destroyed every one of the crosses, except the one buried with him."
"Why destroy his own work?" Faith asked.
"I suppose he feared what might happen if the cross fell into the wrong hands," Giles replied.
"A fear we'll soon get to experience for ourselves, up close and personal," Xander reminded them.
"Unless," Giles murmured, "we preempt their plans."
Willow leaned forward onto the table "How?"
"By learning what was in the book before they do." Giles paused, regarding them with grim purpose. "Which means we can expect to be here late tonight—"
Willow beamed. "Goody! A research party!"
"Will," Xander admonished her, "you need a life in the worst way—"
"Speaking of," Dawn broke, "Buffy and I have to bail. I promise we'll be back bright and early."
The look Giles gave the sisters was perplexed. "This is a matter of some urgency, Dawn, Buffy."
"We know," Dawn said quickly. "But I have a baby, remember? And mom is out of town so I had to hire a babysitter for both Marie and Elizabeth. Buffy needs to be home for Marie."
Giles sighed and nodded.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn drove home picked up Elizabeth and Marie so the babysitter could have the rest of the night off. She then drove to the ice rink that Angel had told her and Chloe about.
They found the door unlocked and waiting for them as they went inside.
"Buffy," said Marie. "Could you teach me?"
"Of course, I can," said Buffy as she and Marie laced up a pair of skates. Then they both took to the ice. Buffy stayed with Marie as they skated round and round on the ice till Marie got the hang of it.
Dawn watched her younger self and smiled. She had never learned to skate and had always wished she had. She was so intent on Buffy, that she didn't even feel the eyes watching her from the bleachers.
Didn't even notice the cruel, scarred face that marked her every movement from the dark.
Octarus looked down at her with an evil grin. He watched as Dawn took care of Elizabeth, he watched as Marie and Buffy skated.
Buffy skated backward staying out of Marie's way. She launched into an airborne twist, but felt her balance suddenly shift at the apex. Landing hard, the momentum carried her across the ice a good ten feet before she finally slid to a stop.
Marie skated over to her sister. "You okay?" she asked.
Buffy nodded as she caught her breath.
Dawn noticed a shadow move across in front of her, and she immediately looked around. Giant hands clamped about her neck. Octarus lifted her like a rag doll and ruthlessly pinned her to the wall.
Buffy saw what was happening and was up in a heartbeat. She looked at her sister. "Go watch after Elizabeth," she ordered as she skated straight at Dawn and Octarus.
Dawn thrashed and fought and wrenched at his monstrous hands. She couldn't break his grip. She could only feel it closing, tighter and tighter around her throat, and she realized suddenly that she was going to die. Dawn struggled harder than ever. Her face was a mask of terror. Everything was going black . . .
"Dawn!" Buffy shouted.
As Octarus whipped around, Buffy's fist slammed into his face. Octarus lost his grip on Buffy, and Dawn fell to the floor, gasping for breath.
But Buffy's rage was uncontrollable now. Octarus smashed a ham-sized fist straight into Buffy's face. She went sprawling across the ice.
Jumping up again, Buffy quickly realized she was trapped in an alcove. She growled and bravely stood her ground, even as Octarus moved in for the kill.
Buffy took to the air with a spinning wheel kick, leading with the glistening blade of her ice skate. She saw the silvery flash across his throat. She heard the sickening rip of flesh.
Dawn grimaced as Octarus clutched his gaping wound. The giant gazed down at Buffy in both shock and betrayal, and then lumbered toward her once again.
Buffy moved out of his way. He staggered past her, out onto the ice, somehow pathetic now in his determination.
Buffy watched in grim silence. She felt Dawn come up behind her, felt the pressure of her sister's body as Dawn leaned against her.
And then Octarus collapsed. Without a word, he dropped heavily to his knees and fell face down on the ice.
"Hi, Angel!" called Marie.
Buffy and Dawn turned at the sound of Marie's voice and saw Angel approaching them.
"Are you both all right?" he asked.
"Yes," Buffy and Dawn answered.
Angel knelt cautiously beside the fallen giant.
"And the Hellmouth presents 'Dead Guys on Ice'," Buffy quipped.
"Not exactly the evening that was planned," agreed Dawn.
Angel scarcely heard them. He was too busy staring down at the ring on Octarus's finger. Lifting the massive hand, he studied the glyphlike pattern etched there on the ring's surface.
"You both are in danger," Angel said tightly. He looked at Dawn. "You know what the ring means?"
"Not something Buffy told me about," Dawn admitted. "So, no clue."
Angel nodded. "You both should go home and wait until you hear from me."
"So much for what we had planned," said Dawn as Buffy looked at her. "This was supposed to be an easy way of his saying goodbye."
"I'm leaving by the end of the week," said Angel.
"Oh," said Buffy.