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Xander's POV

"Nothing so far, Buff," he said as he flew above the graveyard a hundred yards ahead of the Slayer.

"Same here," Willow said through the walkie-talkie she was holding. "No sign of anyone tailing you."

"Well, keep an eye out," Buffy said, sounding a bit on edge. "Giles said that these Terakians were seriously hardcore about the whole killing their target bit. Spotting them before they can make their move would be a big plus."

"Don't worry, Buffy. Between me and Willow if anything gets within two hundred yards of you we'll see it," he said reassuringly even as he continued to scan the graveyard for signs of trouble.

It'd been a bit worrying to find out that someone was sending trained assassins to Sunnydale and he agreed with Giles that the target was most likely Buffy given her status as The Slayer. However, unlike the blonde, he'd been a little more receptive to the idea of finding a place to lay low for a while until more information on who was being sent was available. After all, not knowing what your enemy could do or even what they looked like put you at a serious and potentially fatal disadvantage. Sure, the demons and vamps that normally came at them were relative unknowns as well but at least they were of species they had encountered before. A vamp was a vamp was a vamp and they all went poof when you rammed a sharp piece of wood through their undead hearts.

With these assassins they'd just have to go for old reliable and hope for the best.

What was old reliable? Highlander style; decapitation.

He'd already been warned against making any jokes about 'there could be only one'.

Philistines.

It was a general rule of thumb that nothing kept moving once you removed their head from their body.

Well, maybe certain movie zombies, but they didn't count.

However, despite his best efforts, Buffy refused to show fear or back down from the challenge coming her way so he and Willow had gone with plan B. They'd follow Buffy whichever way was most stealthy and intervene if things got too hairy for the Slayer. Fortunately the blonde was of a similar mind so here they were, following her from high enough above that they'd be difficult to see against the night sky. This did make it hard to see things on the ground as well but fortunately both Gargoyles as well as fae had pretty good night vision, so only the darkest of shadows could conceal anything from them. That was why he was a hundred yards ahead of Buffy while Willow was gliding a hundred yards behind the blonde. With enough leeway in both directions they'd be able to give Buffy ample time to get ready if something was preparing to strike be it from the front or rear.

He just hoped that none of the assassins liked using long range rifles or bows because he had no idea how to protect his blonde friend from those. Bullets travelled too fast to see and arrows, while slower, were still fast enough that he did not believe he could swoop down quickly enough to intercept it. Not for the first time he wished Giles would pick up the pace with his magical education because, while he kinda got that learning the basics was important, his battle options remained limited. Levitation was cool, hence the flying, and the molding of dirt as well as similar substances was also nice, but neither would be very effective against something moving faster than he could see.

So here's hoping that whoever or whatever the assassins turn out to be they prefer going toe to toe rather than ventilate from a distance. He was fairly sure that the Hellmouth wouldn't oblige him.

He was just about to stop looking left and swivel his head back to the right when his eye spotted a flicker of light reflected off metal that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Buffy, possible contact up ahead of you to the left. Light on metal and definitely wasn't there before," he said as he began to descend to get a better look. "I'm gonna go take a look."

"Wait for me to get there, Xan!" Buffy yelled through the walkie talkie. "Metal and you don't mix too good these days!"

"Don't worry, I'll be careful," he said as he continued his descent.

As much as he agreed that his newly awakened half fae nature made metal, particularly wrought iron, a painful hazard to him, he wasn't about to let her walk into an ambush knowing nothing but 'there is something metal waiting for you'. That being said he wasn't being stupid about it as he kept his reflexes on a hair trigger and was all ready to levitate one of the tombstones below him into the path of anything not of the good sent his way. It'd be difficult but it'd be worth it since precious few things could smash through a hundred and twenty pounds of solid granite. Even if by some chance the tombstone did break, he'd wager that much of the speed and force of whatever was propelled at him would be lost hopefully turning something lethal into something hospital worthy.

Narrowing his eyes as he tried to pierce the darkness where he saw the reflected light, he was beginning to see a shape of sorts and it was definitely humanoid.

Deciding it would be best to get the first shot in, he immediately willed control over the ground beneath the figure's feet to shoot up and wrap itself around each limb as tightly as he could manage with his magic. He'd only tried this move once against Buffy to see just how powerful something would have to be in order to break free but it'd been gratifying to find out that the Slayer had been forced to go all out to free herself. With a bit of luck whatever it was he'd just ensnared would be weaker than a maxed out Slayer and would stay put long enough to be interrogated then slain in fitting vengeance for the innocents the assassin had no doubt killed.

"Xander!" Buffy said as she came to a stop from a full sprint at his side.

"Hey. Got one assassin all tied up and ready for interrogation," he said, pointing to the figure that hadn't said a thing since he'd wrapped it in enchanted dirt. "Care to get the ball rolling?"

"With pleasure," Buffy said with a malicious grin as she approached the captured foe. "So… what brings you to Sunnydale? Is it the small town hominess, the nice locals or are you just a goth doing a tour of Californian cemeteries?"

Nothing.

Probably some kind of code of silence every Tarakan followed under pain of a messy death.

"Or are you here because someone hired you to kill me?" she asked, making it clear she knew this to be the case. "If that's the case then you should probably change careers. You aren't getting out of that dirt unless I say so and if you can't move the separating your head from your body is going to be easy. BUT, if you tell me what I want to know, maybe you can run off to some hole in the ground and I'll just tell anyone who asks that I killed you. It's not much of a choice but it beats death. Trust me, I'd know."

He grimaced slightly not liking the reminder of how his friend had almost died at the hands of The Master around half a year ago. It'd baffled and angered him how Giles and Angel could just accept the words of a prophecy while doing nothing to fight against it. The Watcher had tried to explain that the prophecies from Pergamum Codex had never failed to come to pass but he'd refused to listen. He refused to believe in things like destiny and fate because, if they really existed, then he'd been certain that he would've ended up like 'Tony'. After all, wasn't that the way that the psycho-babble went: the abused go on to be abusers themselves. The victims of drunks went on to become an alcoholic themselves. He'd hated the 'Tony' identity and the very idea that he'd turn out like that man, so he'd left to rescue Buffy if only to prove to himself that one's future was in one's own hands, NOT destiny's.

In the end he'd had to force Deadboy to lead him down into the tunnels beneath Sunnydale in order to reach The Master's lair and the sight that'd awaited them had hurt him to the core. Buffy. Lying in a pool of dirty water. Not moving. He'd raced to her side and got her out of it before giving her a once over for wounds. He'd seen the vamp bite on her neck but knew that that alone wouldn't have been enough to kill her. The only other logical possibility had been drowning. In the end though the how didn't matter nearly as much as reviving her but with Angel's excuse that he had no breath for CPR it'd all been on him.

Remembering the CPR classes pretty well he'd gone to work, speaking words of encouragement and then commandment to Buffy as he went through the steps over and over again. Eventually she'd returned to them but, painfully, the first word out of her mouth was 'Angel', as though the souled vampire had been the one to revive her. He'd swallowed his pride, they had more important things to worry about the time, but the fire of anger had lingered for quite a while after that.

When she'd used him as an improvised stripper pole to make Angel jealous at the beginning of the school year, that'd pretty much killed whatever romantic attraction he'd felt towards her. He might've been willing to give her a bit of slack due to the trauma of what she'd been through but that disgusting act was crossing the line. They were still friends, good friends, but romance would never blossom between the two of them.

"No talkie, huh? Maybe some painful persuasion will loosen your tongue," Buffy said menacingly as she walked up to the assassin.

It'd be a bit tricky to let go of individual places so Buffy could work them over with fists and feet but he could do it if he focused a bit more.

However just when he was about to set loose an arm to be broken bone by bone, Buffy froze in position as something caught her attention. He was about to ask what was wrong when she whirled around quickly with a look on her face that he recognized all too well.

They'd been snookered!

Immediately releasing the hold he had on the decoy he flew towards Buffy, intent on grabbing her before getting some serious altitude. However, before he could get more than halfway to her, a spike of pain blossomed in his right leg, shattering his concentration and sending him tumbling to the ground. The jarring impact only caused his suffering to flare but, once he came to a stop, he looked at the source to find out what'd happened only to see a metal arrow skewering his left leg a little below the knee. A rush job of estimating the origin of the arrow and he raised his right arm to use his magic to send a wave of dirt at the attack only for the foe to beat him to the punch putting an arrow through the arm. Pain fractured his consciousness once more, leaving him at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. It was clear whoever was attacking was good at strategy and an expert shot, meaning he'd need a serious distraction to get enough time to use any kind of magic.

"Wooooooooo!"

Looking up he saw Willow diving towards the source of the arrows, eyes glowing bloody crimson. Seeing things from this angle he could perceive it when the next arrow flew through the air at his best friend but, whether it was lingering instincts from Demona or luck, the redhead managed to evade. Then, with all the speed of an aerial predator, his longtime friend entered the shadows where the shots had come from, sounds of battle emerging soon after.

Taking this opportunity he reached for the arrow sticking out of his hand, intent on pulling it out so he could try a healing spell Knotgrass had used on him after a training session with Giles. However, as soon as he grasped one end of the arrow, he was forced to let go as it burned him just as bad as the letter opener had.

Wrought iron.

Well, it definitely explains why the pain in my hand and leg isn't going away, he thought even as he started to feel a little warm. Gotta get it out. Don't need to be a rocket scientist to know that direct contact between wrought iron and my blood is a bad thing waiting to happen.

Bracing himself for the pain, he grabbed the arrow that'd pierced his hand and, even as it filled him with more pain, he pulled for all he was worth. The pain spiked and he was certain that he was mere seconds away from passing out until he threw the offending arrow away, allowing him to take a moment to physically recover.

Hearing a mountain lion roar from the shadows, he didn't know if that meant that Willow was angry or if she'd been hurt somehow but he knew he had to patch himself up quickly. Placing an undamaged hand over the one that was, he brought forth the memory of what Knotgrass had done and did his best to mimic it precisely. It wasn't easy, the pain from the arrow in his leg making his focus strain more than a little, but feeling the pain begin to fade from his injured hand he knew it was working. Visually he could see the jagged hole left by the arrow slowly start to pull itself back together but not fast enough for him to be satisfied. Willow was fighting an assassin and could be three moves from dying for all he knew! He needed to get in there and back her up!

Speaking of back up… where was Buffy?

Sure, he wasn't keeping close tabs on his watch so he didn't now PRECISELY how long it'd been since all the fighting had started but he'd like to think it'd been less than five minutes. Taking a moment to turn his head in the direction of where Buffy'd been before the assassin had hit him, he saw something that gave him a mix of good and bad feelings.

On the good side he was seeing Buffy in her fashionable and form-hugging slaying wear going all Agent Wai Lin on some African girl, who was ass kicking like Leeloo from Fifth Element, wearing clothes that did nothing to disguise how fit she was. Needless to say it was providing him with quite a bit of eye candy. However the bad part of his feelings was that, so long as the unknown girl kept Buffy tied up, she wouldn't be able to go and help Willow.

For a moment he considered trying to utilize dirt to knock the unknown girl to the side and provide an opening for Buffy but, with how fast the two of them were mixing it up, he could just as easily hit his friend.

Then he thought of a form of magic he could do that didn't particularly matter if both got hit with it. Martialling what magic he could, he thrust his hands towards the two ladies, levitating them off the ground about a foot before swinging his left and his right away from each other. As he'd partially expected the pain in his leg spiked, with the use of fae magic that didn't go well with the wrought iron, and before either girl got more than a dozen or so feet he lost his grip. Still, since the newcomer wasn't anywhere near Buffy now he reached out once more with his power over dirt but this time did something a little different. Instead of bringing the dirt up to ensnare the girl he pulled it away, causing her to drop up to her elbows in the rift he'd made. Then, just as quickly, he brought the earth back together, pinning the unknown assailant between the two sides.

"Buff! Go help Willow!" he yelled even as he could feel the African girl trying to break free. "I got this one!"

Buffy looked at her former sparring partner for a bit before looking back at him. "I'll be back as soon as I can Xan!" she said before breaking off at a sprint for where Willow could still be heard fighting the enemy archer.

Here's hoping it's soon enough, he thought even as through his magic he could feel the African girl struggling to pull an arm out of the ground.

The girl had some pretty impressive strength but he guessed that was only natural since she'd been going at it with Buffy. Even as he worked to maintain his hold on her he could feel her making progress just the same. Working as best he could he knew it'd probably be no more than ten minutes before she got her arm free and from there it'd only be a matter of time before the rest surfaced. Trying to bury her again wouldn't work because even just maintaining his hold was causing him pain as his magic slammed into or got tainted by the remaining arrow in his leg. If he could get that out and do some healing the pain would likely go away but doing that would cost him his grip on the girl and he was pretty sure from the looks she was sending him he'd regret it.

Hurry up, Buffy! he thought with rising concern. Unlike some people, I am SO not into pain, even if it does come from a hot girl my own age.

Willow's POV

Who is this guy!? she thought for what had to be the twentieth time.

When she'd seen Xander get hit with arrows, she hadn't even thought before she'd centered herself on the source of the projectiles and dove towards it. On instinct alone she let out the howl that all gargoyles did in order to herald their arrival and put fear into the hearts of their foes. With her superior night vision she'd been able to pick the archer out of the shadows well enough to see when the next shot was coming and, with a flick of her wings, flowed to the side, evading the arrow. From there it was simple to tackle the assassin to the ground but the killer for hire was no slouch since he managed to use her momentum against her to throw her off. Landing with more agility than she'd even associated with herself she charged forth once more, determined to prevent the fight from turning into a long range one. Unable to determine whether the figure was human or some sort of humanoid demon, she'd refrained from using her talons or putting her full strength behind her blows.

Thank god Giles agreed to train me to fight, she thought as she ducked under her current dilemma to try another leg sweep with her tail.

Her initial approach had succeeded in letting her knock the bow from the assassin's hands but the guy proved not to be a one trick pony. He pulled out two nasty-looking curved daggers from their sheaths behind his back. From there it'd become a serious game of evasion, with both of them doing their utmost to completely evade the attacks of the others.

Giles had done his best to translate the fighting methods for humans into something she could use with her nighttime body but it hadn't been a smooth translation. While the Watcher had possessed many books on the fighting methods of demons with similar body types to her own, none of them came with a step by step record from the ones who instructed those species of demon. As a result, even though she'd managed to keep herself from being defeated in the blink of an eye, she wasn't going to win this fight on her own. Already one of the blade had managed to leave a gash in her right wing, introducing her to how much it hurt to be hit in her new limb and causing her to cry out like a jungle cat.

At least she'd managed to pay him back by lashing out with her right hand, talons bared, catching the bastard across the chest and drawing yellow blood in the process.

Since then, though, each of them had been wary of staying within range of their opponent for more than a few seconds at a time but at the same time she made sure that the distance didn't grow to the point where a bow and arrow once more became viable weapons. She'd tried once to pick up a tombstone and throw it at the assassin but, even with the suddenness of the move, the killer for hire managed to evade it just the same. At the rate things were going it'd come down to who tired enough first for the other to take advantage of the matter and end the battle.

And she wasn't one hundred percent certain it'd be her.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?" came a voice she was overjoyed to hear.

The assassin reacted to this new element by trying to move away from the voice while also leaving himself open to her. Too bad he'd been used to her level of speed for too long because, when compared to how fast Buffy could move, he might as well have been a turtle. With all the force of a sledgehammer the Slayer's fist slammed into the assassin's face, staggering the killer and forcing him to take a couple of steps back. Too bad for him it was Buffy's nature to press her advantage if she got one and, with the assassin off balance, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. With a bit more ruthlessness than she was used to seeing the Slayer use she laid into the one that'd been hired to kill her, alternating between blows that broke bones and ones that were only intended to be distractions. Between the two angles the fight quickly began to look entirely one sided, with the assassin losing ground with every second that passed.

Eventually desperation provoked the precise mercenary to dive in for a vicious dagger assault in the hopes of turning things back in his favor.

This was his last mistake.

With unheard of skill she sidestepped the dagger slash of the right arm, grabbing it, before forcing the dagger point towards the assassin and then kicked the killer's own legs out from under him so that he literally fell on his own weapon. She saw the tip of the dagger come out of the Tarakan's back, even if it was only half an inch of it.

THUMP!

Make that three inches of it as Buffy slammed her foot down on the assassin's back, forcing more of the dagger's blade to protrude through.

"If any of you other assassins is watching, I have one question for you…" Buffy yelled loud enough to be heard two hundred yards away. "…WHO'S NEXT?"

She had to cringe a bit at this because, while she had to admit that the Slayer had managed to dispatch the assassin at her feet with impressive skill, trying to provoke the others into attacking was not smart. Fortunately nothing happened so either there were no other assassins in the area or they weren't the sort of people to rise to that kind of bait, but whatever the reason it looked like the fighting was over with for now.

That was what she thought before Buffy turned around and began to run back towards where Xander was located. It was then that she remembered her best friend being skewered by two arrows and on instinct dropped to all fours, sprinting after the Slayer only realizing her position after the fact. Shrugging it off as something to be thought about later she continued to lope along, catching up to Buffy as they left the forest, giving them a clear line of sight to where Xander last was. What they saw though was some African teenage girl pulling herself up out of the ground with a look that made it clear that she intended to do physical harm to Xander.

Not on her watch!

Crossing the distance as quickly as she could she placed herself right in front of Xander, letting her wings flare out as wide as they could despite one being injured, letting out a warning growl without realizing it. Depending on how skilled this assassin turned out to be she might only be able to buy a minute at best but that would be a minute where she would do whatever she could in order to keep her best friend and crush safe.

"Your friend's dead and unless you want to join him your next move should be to buy a bus ticket out of Sunnydale before sunrise." Buffy said in a deadly tone that made it clear that she considered her victory a fact.

"I have no friends here, demon," the Jamaican-sounding girl said as she finally succeeded in extracting her from the ground. "I have been sent here to stop a great darkness from rising and you will not stop me."

Wait! Stop a great darkness from rising? That's not the sort of thing that a killer for hire would say.

"Nice try, trying to play the good guy, but I'm not buying it," Buffy said, not backing down from her position. "Good guys don't attack other good guys or even strangers without warning. You did that. That means you're the bad guy and in this town I stomp the bad guys flat!"

"You may try," the Jamaican girl said, not showing any weakness either.

However before the fight from earlier could be resumed a pot flew from out of nowhere and succeeded in striking the strange girl in the back of the head. On a hunch she turned her head to see Xander, with one arm extended and moving towards their final enemy of the evening. Looking back at the hostile girl she saw another pot streak through the air and, while it was partially deflected by the final enemy in the area, it still grazed her head disorienting her.

As a result she never noticed the fist made of dirt shoot up from the ground to punch her in the jaw with more density than one would think.

This proved to be the deciding move as the Jamaican girl dropped unconscious to the ground with a significantly sore head no doubt.

"Nice move, Xander," Buffy said as she pulled a wooden stake from her pocket. "I'll finish her off."

"Wait, Buffy!" Xander yelled, stopping the Slayer in her tracks. "Something's off here. She wasn't acting like a card carrying assassin. Plus we need more info about what we're up against."

"He's right. We should find something to tie her up with and take her back to Giles," she said, adding her bit of reason to the mix. "He'll know what to do."

For almost a minute nothing was said and Buffy seemed to be debating whether to take the advice of her friends or go with her preferred course of action. The Slayer must have been determined to portray herself as a major league player worthy of fear and was concerned that not killing the girl now might be perceived as a sign of weakness.

"Fine. You two keep an eye on her," Buffy said before she began to walk off. "I'll break off some of the metal bars off the cemetery fence to tie her up with."

Without a further word the Slayer went to do what she just said she'd do, leaving both her as well as Xander to keep an eye on their prisoner to make sure she didn't wake up, run off or kill them both.

"Do you think Buffy's taking the whole warrior badass thing a little far?" Xander asked from his position on the ground.

"Well, these are big time assassins, Xander," she replied even as she moved closer to him. "It probably takes something pretty impressive to make them think twice."

Xander nodded as he saw the logic of that.

"I just hope that it doesn't take… too many wins to make them back off," Xander said, grimacing for a moment reminding her of the arrow in his leg. "I think we might be punching just a bit out of our league."

"But Buffy managed to kill one of the assassins and the other is about to be tied up," she said, pointing out their progress thus far.

"We don't know how many there are out there, what they can do or even how many we need to kill before their 'client' runs out of money," he pointed out, much to her disappointment. "That's necessary intel."

As much as she didn't want to admit it she had to concede that flying by the seat of their pants and relying on momentum alone to see them through wasn't the smartest of moves. She just didn't like to think that hey wouldn't be able to fight them off.

She didn't want to believe that Buffy stood a real chance of dying.

Sunnydale High School

Library

Buffy's POV

"You're sure that she can't get out of all that?" she asked as she looked at the unconscious assassin bound by metal rods then tied to one of the library chairs by rope.

"The bars are solid steel and have been placed at key joints. I have also taken the precaution of using several rope tying techniques that are infamously difficult to undo or acquire enough leverage to break," Giles replied as he stepped away from their captive. "She would need to possess strength that was quite formidable indeed to free herself in a single effort."

"And if she is that strong?" she asked, deciding to go with the pessimistic outcome.

"Doubtful, considering you say you were able to fight relatively evenly with her. However if she was concealing the true scope of her strength and she is strong enough to render her bonds pointless… suffice it to say I pray that is not the case."

"We could just kill her now and end the threat immediately," she suggested, still not comfortable with the idea of letting an enemy into their HQ, even if it was for valuable intel. Better to kill first and get whatever answers they needed from the body or belongings.

"Buffy! I get you're trying to be all badass terminator-like but we need to make sure we're not making a mistake," Xander said, sounding shocked at her suggested course of action.

"What's the mistake? She's an assassin here to kill me and I plan on killing her first," she said, unable to understand why he was being so resistant.

"And if she's not an assassin?" he asked her as if he considered this the defining point of his argument.

"What? She attacked me! I've never seen her before in my life and she attacked me!" she exclaimed, unable to conceive how he could have come to his present conclusion.

"Just because you've never seen her before that doesn't mean she can't have a reason for attacking," he said, keeping calm in the face of her emotion. "She certainly wasn't talking like an assassin before I knocked her out."

"She was playing mind games with us! Trying to confuse us so we'd let our guard down!" she yelled, hoping that volume would help her words get through.

"While that MAY indeed be the case, Buffy, it is still a fact that the information we might gain from her makes keeping her alive worth the risk." Giles interjected.

She wanted to argue the point further but she recognized that her Watcher had superior experience and knowledge, so for the time being she'd let him have his way.

She'd still keep the short sword in her hand at the ready so that the moment the assassin revealed her true colors would be the same moment she found out what color blood lay beneath her foe's skin.

Watching as Giles cracked open the capsule of smelling salts, waving it beneath the unconscious assassin's nose. The reaction was almost instant, though it took another few seconds for coherent thought to return, but when it did the assassin made the expected effort to break free from her bonds. When no ropes snapped and the bent metal rods remained in place her wariness dimmed a bit because she could've conceive of a reason why the assassin would continue the charade of being weaker than she really was. It would've been the perfect time to roar out of the restraints, kill Giles and then try to kill her before moving on to both Xander as well as Willow. After all, brute strength would make killing humans pretty easy and she'd be thrown off her balance seeing her friends and mentor die right before her eyes, making her vulnerable until her rage snapped her into action.

Perhaps the assassin truly was captured.

If that turned out to be the case they'd pound every scrap of information out of her and THEN kill her someplace where the other assassins could find her as a warning.

"Release me," the assassin demanded, focusing her gaze on Giles.

"Not going to happen," Xander said from his chair. "But I've got a fun game we can play. It's called 'we ask questions and you give answers'. It's not always fun for the person doing the answering, 'cause for every question they don't answer they get punched in the face."

"Me? I'm hoping you decide to take a vow of silence," she said with a malicious smile.

"You will get nothing out of me, inhuman filth!" the assassin said with venom in her voice. "You may as well kill me now."

"Hey! I'm all for that idea. Got a short sword here that'd do the job nicely," she said, waving the sword so that the killer for hire would look at it.

All the assassin did was glare at her in defiance.

"While practical, I can think of a far more appropriate punishment," Giles said with an edge she didn't recall ever hearing come from him before. "I'm told that the Order of Taraka does not look kindly on agents who return alive but have failed to kill their target. However, what I find most… interesting is how they react when one of their own fails and manages to disgrace the Order at the same time. I'm told that the last one to do so is still alive but very much wishes he wasn't."

"You dare to insult ME!" the assassin yelled as she once more strained against her bonds but with redoubled vigor. "I AM THE SLAYER! I am no demonic assassin!"

There was a pause as everyone in the room was floored by the claim since it flew in the face of everything they knew or were told by people they trusted.

The reaction was equally unified. "WHAT!?"

For her, though, it was also with a healthy helping of rage since, while she might not always like the fact that she was the Slayer, a part of her did enjoy being something special. So the idea that someone else was claiming to be what she was rubbed her the wrong way. Without hesitation she stalked forwards, grabbed the assassin by the throat and held the tip of the blade less than an inch from her left eye.

"You got a lot of nerve calling yourself that but I guess you forgot to do your homework," she growled while consciously holding back her desire to push the blade all the way to the brain. "I am the Slayer. ME! BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS! And as the whole intro goes 'unto each generation a chosen ONE is born, ONE girl in all the world', so since I am the Slayer YOU cannot be!"

"It is you who lies!" the assassin growled back, not showing any fear. "Slayer Summers died less than half a year ago and then I was Called! You ally with nonhumans and dare to claim you are my fallen sister? You had best hope I never free myself from these bonds or I WILL kill you."

"Buffy, stop!" Giles yelled, causing her to look at him so fiercely he unconsciously took a step back.

Bothered by this instinctive act of his, she closed her eyes and reigned in her anger before taking two steps away from the one who claimed to be The Slayer. She never wanted her friends or the man who'd become like a father to her to EVER fear her and to think that she did for even a moment… she needed to chill out.

"If you are truly a Slayer then who is your Watcher?" Giles asked, taking control of the interrogation.

For a moment the girl wrestled with the decision to answer but eventually replied, "Samuel Zabuto."

"You know him, Giles?" Xander asked from the seat where the remaining arrow had been extracted and the wound bandaged.

"I know of him. He is a very respected Watcher and, were it not for prior obligations, Buffy might well have been assigned to him," Giles replied, taking on a more introspective tone.

"So she's telling the truth?" Willow asked from her seat on the library counter.

"Possibly. There is one way to find out for sure," Giles replied as he began to move to his office door. "I will call the Council and inquire as to the status of Watcher Zabuto and whether or not a new Slayer has truly been Called. It is an unprecedented occurrence. Since the beginning of the Slayer line there has only ever been one Called at any one time, with each successive Slayer only rising after the previous one died."

"The Master's cave!" Willow exclaimed like a lightbulb had turned on inside her head.

"What about it?" she asked, implying with her tone that she wanted to move away from that topic.

"Xander found you face down in a puddle when he got there with Angel," Willow said, sounding a bit excited that she'd found the most likely answer. "You were dead and he brought you back with CPR!"

"You mean Angel brought me back," she said, correcting the redhead on her little error.

"I thought that at first, too, but when I was doing a little light reading during lunch one day I looked into vampires. You know… in case a unique one came to Sunnydale," Willow said, sounding a little uneasy. "One of the things I found out was that vampires don't actually breathe. They can't. They just mimic breathing either out of habit or to blend in to hunt prey. I don't know if Angel knew this or not but he couldn't have done the breaths for CPR. Only Xander. So basically if Angel had been the only one to go to the Master's cave he wouldn't have been able to do CPR right."

"Of course! Even if it were only for a few minutes, Buffy's death must have been enough to trigger the Calling of the next Slayer. Then, when Xander revived you, he twinned the Slayer line!" Giles exclaimed as his Watcher mind filled in the pieces of the puzzle. "Still, the Council should have at least sent me a memo or something."

With that the Watcher entered his office to confirm both the girl's identity and the twinning of the Slayer line.

As for her, she didn't know quite how to react to the new information but one she was certain about was that she wanted the 'new Slayer' out of Sunnydale, pronto. If there was some sort of darkness rising in town then she'd be the one to handle it. This was her hometown, her territory, and she did not like the thought of having to share it, albeit temporarily, with another Slayer did not sit well with her.

"Well, this is all a little too much excitement for this small town boy," Xander said as he floated up off his chair. "I'm heading home. Knotgrass'll be able to do a bit more for my leg so hopefully I'll be able to walk normally by tomorrow."

"Need any help?" Willow asked with a bit of hopefulness.

Internally she had to smile a bit since it looked like her friend might actually be taking the initiative in her crush over Xander. Maybe her inheriting stuff from that Demona character was a little bit good after all.

"I guess two people coming home from a costume party would be easier to explain than one guy flying a foot off the ground," Xander said after a moment's thought. "Sure! Let's get going."

Well, at least some good's come of tonight, she thought as she watched the duo walk out of the library, with Xander leaning on Willow for support.

The Next Day, Sunnydale High School

Xander's POV

Still a little sore but nothing I can't handle, he thought as he walked down the hallway to the student lounge where the career stands were set up.

Knotgrass, Thistlewit and Flittle had been in an uproar last night when he'd come through the door limping. They'd been a flurry of questions and reproaching words as Willow had guided him over to a vacant chair before putting him down. Flitting about him like a swarm of angry bees they'd questioned him until he provided them with an edited account of what'd happened. He'd known that if he'd told them the uncut truth that they'd do everything in their power to make sure he couldn't go out on patrol with Buffy ever again.

Still, it'd been a bit suffocating as the three of them had flown about the house getting various ingredients for healing up his wounds while also lessening the pain. In the end they'd fretted over him until it was time for bed and then they'd followed him to his room to make sure his magic flying didn't give out along the way.

Not that they would've been able to do much in their natural states but he guessed that, if they turned into Tony or Jessica, they could keep him from hitting the floor.

By the time the sun rose and it was time to get ready for school his wounds were more or less gone, with just some lingering pain beneath the skin to worry about. Knotgrass had offered to write him a sick letter so he could stay home and heal fully but he'd turned her down. Thanks to the roles they'd been forced to play for so many years, no one would believe that Tony and Jessica Harris had suddenly decided that they cared about their son. Besides, the pain wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before and he had little doubt that Snyder would be extra mean with the detention towards students who didn't show up.

Now he got to see what the life of a bodyguard had to offer him, even though the odds said that he'd it'd take Sunnydale vanishing from the face of the Earth to get him to leave it. He was in 'The Good Fight' for the long haul and, while he wasn't willing to go poor fighting, it he was willing to tighten his proverbial belt if the situation called for it.

As the student lounge came into view he could see that it was already bustling with activity, with the various career stations set up with the representatives standing close by. He could also see Willow standing in front of what was probably the list of who was going where in order to find out where she needed to be. Personally, even with her present condition, he felt that she was smart enough to get into any university on the planet on a full scholarship without a doubt. Also her academic prowess was so great that, even if she didn't show up for the job fair, there was little chance that Snyder would take disciplinary action against her.

"Willow!" he said from behind her, causing her to jump. "What are you doing here? Fly! Be free, little bird; you defy category!"

"I'm looking for Buffy," Willow replied, surprising him a bit given his earlier assumption.

"Haven't seen her. Not since the big surprise last night," he said after taking a moment to think.

Indeed, the idea that he'd unintentionally split the Slayer line into two had thrown him for a loop, almost as much as how hardcore Buffy had been during the interrogation of the Jamaican girl he now knew to be one Kendra Young. He'd always suspected that Slayers were alpha females, so putting two in the same room would almost certainly lead to some friction. Add that to the blonde girl's new 'Dirty Harry' attitude and he'd better hope that Kendra didn't plan on sticking around too long.

"If she doesn't get back soon, Snyder's really..." Willow said before her eyes widened and her tone changed, "...done a great job with the fair this year. Hasn't he, Xander?"

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on and he put his best 'oh, is it not a joy to see Principal Snyder' face. It was a lie in every way that counted but it was sometimes necessary in order to keep from getting into even hotter water with the malicious midget. So long as the man held a position of authority over the student body, there was a limit to how far the Scoobies could push their luck.

"Principal Snyder! Great career fair, sir! Really! In fact, I'm so inspired by your leadership, I'm thinking principal school. I wanna walk in *your* shoes," he said before a possible impossibility occurred to him. "Not your actual shoes, of course, because you're a tiny person. Not tiny in the small sense, of course. Okay, I'm done now."

Not his best suck up speech but it was all he'd been able to come up with on the fly.

"Where is she?" Snyder asked, sneering at his efforts.

But then again what else was new.

"Who?" Willow asked, feigning ignorance even though they both knew the truth.

"You now who." Snyder growled at the feigned ignorance.

"You mean Buffy?" Willow asked before looking around for show. "I just saw her…"

"And don't feed me that 'I just saw her a minute ago, she's around here somewhere' story," Snyder said, clearly not wiling to accept any excuses.

"But I did… just see her a minute ago, and she is… AROUND here somewhere!" Willow exclaimed, trying to sound offended at the idea that she'd lie.

"For what it's worth…" he said, trying to divert some of the micro man's malice away from his best bud.

"It's worth nothing, Harris. Whatever comes out of your mouth is a meaningless waste of breath. An airborne toxic event." Snyder said with contempt in his voice.

"Well, I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to be so honest with me," he said with false cheer and politeness in his tone. "And I can only hope that one day I'm in the position to be that honest with you."

"Fascinating," Snyder said lifelessly before walking away no doubt to torment some other student.

"Well, love to stay and chat but I got an appointment with the rep from Kane Protection Services," he said, figuring Willow would get to where she needed to go without him. "Ciao."

Walking over to the booth, he saw that the representative sent to meet with him was a woman that, while dressed in a ladies business suit, definitely could not be mistaken for a secretary. If it wasn't the sharp professional look she had on her face, it was the scar mark on her left hand as she extended it to greet him.

"Mister Harris. My name is Diana Picquery and I work for Kane Protection Services," she said with the practiced smile every rep used when meeting with a stranger.

"Glad to meet you," he said, shaking the hand with casual politeness.

"Now, I'm sure you're expecting a big presentation on what Kane Protection Services but I remember what that was like when they approached me for a job. What a boring routine," Miss Picquery said, sounding rather more laid back than he'd expected a rep to be. "Instead I'll just tell you what it's like to work there and what some of the perks are. Sound good?"

"Sounds cool to me," he said, preferring the informal atmosphere developing rather than the stuffiness of prepared statements and card printed answers.

"Well, as you already know, the business I'm in is providing protection to clients from all manner of threats. Sometimes it's just for one event while in other cases it's a contract for an indefinite period of time," Diana said as she sat down in her own chair. "Naturally we gather as much information from the client as we can during the initial meetings to determine the level of protection they need."

"You mean you don't give them what they want as long as they can afford it?" he asked with a bit of puzzlement.

"Not quite," Miss Picquery replied with a shake of her head. "While we are a successful company, we have a limited number of trained agents we can assign to each client. Also, it makes bad business sense to put all your eggs in one basket, as they say."

Point.

Even if a client was wealthy enough to afford to pay the fee, they stipulated they'd be in quite a bind if that one client went belly up unexpectedly. When you had a client that you didn't think you'd be parting company with anytime soon, you planned out your future around that certainty. This normally wasn't a problem for most businesses since they usually had more than one client, so if one parted company with them they had others to fall back on. If Kane Protection Services devoted all their manpower to a single client and planned their future around that person then, if they vanished, the company would be in dire straits.

"We do single event protection, a specified period of time or indefinite contracts. If more than one person requires protection we usually assign two bodyguards to each individual but it can be reduced to one if the number of people is too high," Diana explained with a bit of discernment in her eyes. "However, if the risk factor is too great, we usually turn down the job offer."

"Risk factor?" he asked, having a pretty good idea but wanting to hear it with his own ears.

"Every field operative of Kane Protection Services is either a former member of the law enforcement community or the military. When they're hired on they're already highly trained but then we take that training to the next level in order to ensure that our clients get the best possible protection," Miss Picquery replied, her gaze never ceasing to evaluate him. "At the same time we're not about to send them into situations beyond their ability to handle. We research the potential threats we might face in taking on a specific client and insist that they disclose fully what they know should they come to us for a specific reason. If the threat they need protection from proves to be more than we can handle, we decline the job. Our employees are not expendable assets to be recklessly put in harms way."

This earned them some serious brownie points with him.

To too many people in authority the people under them were just faces and numbers that could easily be replaced. To him it was probably like that with the Watcher's Council; after all, why care about the life of one Slayer when another would be Called as soon as the previous one perished. If Diana had made it sound like her bosses cared more about the payday than they did their own employees, it would have soured his disposition considerably.

"So what're the requirements for joining up?" he asked, figuring it did no harm to find out.

"Well obviously physical fitness is essential. Protecting someone takes a toll on the body and you can't do your job if you're too busy gasping for breath," Diana replied seriously. "Skills in combat are also required but there's a side to the business most people overlook and that involves medicine. While it's great if your client can make it through an incident without a scratch on them, you need to be prepared to treat wounds, whether they are yours, your client's or someone else's. There are a few other things but we'd be sitting here all day if I had to go through them all."

Well, I'd have the fitness down since fighting demons or running for them helps burn the fat nicely, he thought as he rolled the facts around inside his head. I'd just need to get some actual combat training of some kind, along with something two or three rungs above basic first aid.

Sure, if he could master his magic he'd probably be one of the best bodyguards on the planet but that, of course, was dependent on him actually taking the job possibility seriously.

Which he wasn't.

He'd fight side-by-side with Buffy until she died or there were no more demons on the Hellmouth, and in both cases he'd likely just relocate to the next closest paranormal hotspot before resuming.

"And assuming I did decide to become a bodyguard, how long before I'd be ready to get hired on and get assigned to a client?" he asked, figuring that even if he didn't become a bodyguard the skills would still be valuable to the Scoobies.

"Assuming you began training the moment you graduated from high school you could probably get hired on at Kane Protection Services in about five to six years. After that there'd be a minimum of two years of extra training to raise your skill levels to where the boss wants them to be."

"So basically seven years minimum."

A long time that was. Too long to leave the Hellmouth unguarded or to stay off the battlefield away from Buffy's side.

For the next hour he listened to Diana go into further detail about what she did for a living, what it involved and what sort of pay the average field operative got for their hard work. She even threw in a few funny stories about some of the clients she'd guarded, albeit without mentioning their real names but rather assigning them aliases. In the end he decided that if there were no demons, vampires or dark magic users in the world he might actually give being a bodyguard a try. The pay sounded good and, while he'd probably wind up being forced to protect complete assholes, he'd hopefully have learned enough restraint by then to keep from doing anything foolish.

If not, he had a feeling that he'd either get fired the day after he did something reckless he'd be handed his walking papers.

THAT or be treated to the mother of all drill sergeant dress downs by the boss before being suspended without pay.

Diana Picquery's POV

IT'S TRUE! IT'S REALLY, REALLY TRUE! she thought with glee as she walked down the streets of Sunnydale.

She had to get to her departure point and report back to her superior on the results of her investigation with all due speed. News of this importance could not be delayed even if it would spread on its own, given enough time. However, given the nature of the news, it was imperative that the director be apprised first so that he could decide what steps needed to be taken.

It had been only a short while ago that they'd begun to detect two new sources of magic in the country where before there had been none. Indeed, due to a contract that the President had been forced into at the beginning of the current century, they were forbidden from setting foot in Sunnydale unless it was under very specific circumstances. Not that anyone among them or even others would want to willingly visit the Hellmouth with all the demonic energy in the air but, given standing orders, it would've happened sooner or later if not for the contract. Given the strength of the magic detected, a full investigation had been ordered wherein all the territories looked into, whether or not a possible source had passed through in the months leading up to the detection. However, when nothing of any weight had been discovered, she had been ordered to go to the Hellmouth undercover in order to ascertain the nature of the sources.

Upon arriving in town she'd done her best to conceal her true nature while tracking down what she'd been assigned to find. It hadn't been easy but fortunately there were quite a few methods that wouldn't expose her. It'd taken awhile but, when she'd found the first of the two sources, she had been surprised that the source was a young man in his mid-teens since many back at the office had thought it to be a talisman of some sort. From there it had simply been a matter of finding a way to get close enough to examine the young man properly in order to determine enough specifics to satisfy the director. When she'd learned of the job fair occurring at the teenager's school, she'd located the representative for the job her target had been assigned to and replaced him. It'd been a little tight learning enough to maintain the deception but fortunately there'd been enough similarities between her real job and the cover that she'd been able to ad lib convincingly.

All through the 'presentation' she'd used her own particular talents to see what she'd needed to see and BOY had she been surprised by what she'd seen in the young man.

Fae were a rare breed, with many keeping to themselves in communities that were more isolated than any she knew of. Not that it was surprising, given the abundance of metal and technology in the majority of places the world over. Even with those places where technology was limited to what had been common a century ago, you'd almost never see a fae passing through. Despite that, though, the stories about them, the legends of their magical prowess, remained as strong as ever with it being the fantasy of many young ladies to find and marry a fae prince.

As a result, the fact that they had a half-fae male in America would cause all kinds of commotion throughout the country.

She'd hadn't been able to determine what rank he had among his people but the quality of the magic inside of him reminded her of one of the VIPs she'd been assigned to protect during a diplomatic function. That didn't necessarily mean that Alexander Harris was from a noble family, or even an important one since, with so few instances of fae encounters, few details were known about their magic in relation to their rank.

Whatever the truth turned out to be, she'd found out what she wanted and by pure chance had managed to discover the identity of the other in the form of a teenage girl with red hair. It hadn't been as obvious as it had been with Mister Harris but her eyes had been sharp enough to see the truth, but it had left her a bit curious. Someone with magic like Miss Rosenberg's should've been scooped up by one of the proper schools five years ago instead of being allowed to attend Sunnydale High School. Were those in charge of approaching potential students concerned because of where she'd been born? It wasn't impossible since Hellmouth's had been known to influence magic users and increase the odds of them turning dark. Some of the more ruthless people she'd overheard thought that any magic user born on a Hellmouth should be terminated immediately to eliminate a future threat. In the end it was decided that, while residents of such places wouldn't be outright barred from entry into one of the proper schools, their backgrounds would be heavily scrutinized before admittance.

Had Miss Rosenberg somehow failed her background check? Possibly.

However for a spike of her magic to have been detected from so far outside of Sunnydale, it implied that either it had just manifested or the young lady had performed an impressive feat of magic.

The former was unlikely and the latter was potentially worrisome.

Almost like clockwork those with the inborn talent for magic first exhibited their power early on in life, and once they reached their eleventh year, were recruited into one of the proper schools. It was completely unheard of that Miss Rosenberg's talent wouldn't manifest until recently. As for the latter, self-taught magic users living on top of a Hellmouth performing spells of such magnitude tended to lead to trouble. Researchers were already looking for spells, rituals and artifacts that required they be utilized with the rising or setting of the sun. Nothing fitting the facts had been found by the time she'd departed but perhaps when she got back to the office she'd find out what was going on.

She was just turning into the alleyway where she could make her getaway when out of nowhere a bolt of light shot out from the shadows at her. This had caught her completely by surprise and so her reaction time was slowed far too much for her to counter the attack, resulting in the bolt hitting the center of her chest. At once her body went rigid like a plank of lumber before falling back to the floor of the alley, with only her eyes still being able to move.

Her mind was a abuzz with questions but none were more important than 'who used the Petrificus Totalus curse on me?'.

She got her answer a moment later when two sets of footsteps began to approach her and, when the owners of the feet came into her field of vision, she was hit with feelings of both shock and fear.

"Well, well, well! Auror Picquery!" the man said with surprise that didn't reach his eyes. "Long time no see! Not since that mess in Washington with those No-Maj extremists, if I remember correctly."

"That was such a MESS!" the woman next to the man said with disgust. "But then that's what you get when you let dangerous demonic artifacts fall into the hands of the uninformed. I'd say you're getting a taste of that right now, Agent Picquery. A mess caused by lack of information, I mean."

"Indeed. Fortunately, though, my wife and I are in a position to help educate you," the man said as he flicked his wrist, causing her to rise up off the alley floor. "Of course we have questions of our own that need to be answered so there'll need to be a little quid pro quo. You don't have a problem with that Auror Picquery, do you?"

Considering who the man and woman were, she wasn't about to refuse their inquiries, even if it was the policy of the American Aurors to never give out information to others without authorization from the director.

Punishment would be preferable to what these two were capable of.