The Road Back: Season Three

by xxmagex

The events started in The Road to Hell continue. The world changes as the Scoobies and others realize they are part of a bigger world.

15. Chapter 15

Part Fifty-Three

Seattle, Washington. October 2, 2001

Far away from the Hellmouth, a young man opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside. He bent down and picked up the envelopes that had been slid through the mail slot, and landed on the floor. As he stood up, he reached over to turn the light switch on.

There was no response.

"Damn it," the man muttered. He closed the door behind him and thought tiredly to himself, {Hopefully, I've still got that spare light bulb in the kitchen.}

The human started making his way through the pitch-black apartment, putting his hand out to feel his way. He felt something roll away from his touch. He reached out and grabbed it.

"What the hell?" the man said in confusion as he looked at the light bulb in his hand. Then he heard a growl.

He looked up and screamed, as something grabbed him.

Unknown heavenly dimension. October 3, 2001

The creature that would one day be known as "Jasmine" frowned as she monitored what was happening within the City of Angels.

Ever since deciding who would have the 'honor' of being her mother after the miracle child was born, the fallen Power had known that she would have engineer the specific circumstances she needed after possessing the female vessel in the higher realms, and using her body to descend to the mortal plane. There had to be no risk of the vessel engaging in sexual relations with anyone before coupling with her so-called father.

This in turn meant finding something to use as an excuse to avoid any romantic entalgments, before she was ready to seduce Connor.

Jasmine suddenly smiled as she saw a fight take place between Charles Gunn and the man named Gio, right there within the street gang's headquarters. And then the troublemaking visitor from Miami tried to shoot the black gang leader - before Gunn killed him instead, and the Lost Boys dumped the body somewhere on the wrong side of Venice Boulevard where no one would ever find it.

{This could have possibilities} Jasmine thought to herself idly.

Richmond, Virginia. October 4, 2001

Xander cocked an eyebrow as he sat at the breakfast table. Across the table from him, Oz ate cereal, while Fred cooked some eggs on the stove.

"I'm just saying, that next time should go better. I've decreased the amount of power the rifle puts out, and I'm sure it's not gonna blow another hole in the roof! Well, at least not a big one," Ms. Burkle amended herself slightly.

"A hole in the roof is still a hole in the roof."

The three of them looked up as Cleburne walked into the kitchen. "Morning, all," the Marine colonel grunted.

"Morning, Cleburne. And hey, why are you complaining about Fred's rifle?" Xander stood up, clutching the weapon possessively. "Personally, I love this thing!"

"Kid, did it ever occur to you that that rifle is a health hazard?" Cleburne asked acerbically.

"All weapons are a health hazard," Oz commented sagely.

"And besides, didn't you yourself once say that 'there's no such thing as overkill'?" Xander asked with a smirk. "You also said something along the lines of having unlimited ammo, and having to reload. That's why I adore this baby," Xander held the heat blaster rifle up carefully, not wanting to blow another hole in the ceiling. "All you gotta do is change the spark plugs every once in a while, and hey presto, you'll never have worry about ammo clips again!"

"It's a little bit more complicated than that, I mean the heat capacitors need a lot of attention," Fred spoke up with a frown. "Still, I'll admit, it *is* a lot more low-maintenance than most of the weapons the organization uses."

The ulcer threatening to form in Joshua Cleburne's stomach distracted him from making an immediate reply. {What have I let myself in for with these three? Sometimes, I wish I'd never met any of 'em!} "I still have to replace that hole, people. Do you know how much it costs to get a construction crew on short notice?" he finally demanded.

"I do, actually," Xander nodded, as he put the rifle onto the couch and came back to the table.

"Well, you're not the one paying them, it's coming out of *my* pocket!" Cleburne poured himself a cup of coffee. "Look, Ms. Burkle, I'm not saying don't keep working on that thing. I'm just saying, work on it a specially designed lab. There's plenty of room in the basement I can have made into a laboratory for you, if you like. I know I'll have to spend some money on that, but I'm sure it'll pay for itself when I save on future repair bills."

"I'll help out, if you want," Xander volunteered, as he starting wolfing down his oatmeal.

Cleburne raised an eyebrow. "You know how to do construction work?"

Xander nodded. "From what I can remember of another life, yeah."

"And I'm finding out about this now, why? I could have had you working to earn your keep around here." Cleburne was interrupted by the sound of music, the Imperial March from Star Wars.

Oz pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. Cleburne had finally agreed to Oz and Fred having some limited contact with their families. They had been given cell phone numbers and a post office box in Washington D.C. only, no physical addresses. That way, some secure communication could now take place.

After a few seconds, Oz spoke up, "It's my cousin, Jordy. He left me a voicemail message last night."

The werewolf punched in some numbers and listened for a few seconds. Oddly, his expression abruptly changed. "Something's up, guys."

High above West Africa. A short while later

A spy satellite traveled in orbit around the world, the camera taking snapshots every few seconds and then sending them back to mission control.

Back on Earth, various experts began to examine and interpret the images received. They would soon forward their conclusions to various policymakers in the American government.

The photographs would, unknown to many people, would greatly affect quite a number of lives once the full impact of the images was figured out.

A private airfield, Los Angeles, California. October 5, 2001

Xander blinked and shielded his eyes from the morning sun, as he stepped out of the Lear jet. The plane had not pulled all the way into the hangar yet, so the sunlight streamed across the door. He paused for a second before he started walking down the steps that had come out from the plane. Behind him, Oz and Fred started out of the plane as well which had ferried them from Richmond to Los Angeles.

"Mr. Howard, welcome back to the West Coast."

Several yards away, a Crown Victoria sat with FBI agent-slash-Siberian Malcolm Fletcher standing next to it. "Osborne, Ms. Burkle, good to see you again too. Cleburne gave me some details of what you're here for." he said to the Siberian 'exiles'.

"Well, then you may know more than we do," Xander asked. "All we have is a phone call."

"My cousin called, said there was something going on we needed to know." Oz said simply.

"That's all?" Fletcher asked in surprise.

"It was enough to get us to fly out here to find out more," Xander said. "After what happened with that little kid six months ago, none of us want to take the risk of another "diner's club" setting up shop in this city again."

"Yeah, and it was also a good reason for us to get out of Virginia for a while," Fred commented. "It's beautiful out here. I used to live in this city when I was a college student, y'know, and sometimes I miss it - and the library where I used to work at," she said wistfully, as the three of them walked to the car.

"Well, anyway, I've set up the safehouse for you. We can go there first if you want?" Fletcher offered.

Xander shook his head as he got into the car. "If you don't mind, Oz, I think we should go to your cousin's place and get started on this."

"Sounds good," Oz said as he closed the door and fastened his seat belt. The car quickly took off, and the Siberian Trip Wire security detail followed them close behind.

Los Angeles, California. A short while later

"Oz?"

Oz looked up as the 11-year-old Jordy walked into the kitchen. "You came!" the little boy exclaimed happily.

"Sure did, squirt. And you knew I would, once your mom told me something was up." Oz nodded at his Aunt Maureen who was standing next to the stove. Xander, Fletcher and Fred were sitting at kitchen table with a quick breakfast waiting for them. "So, what's going on?"

"I'm not sure, I..." Jordy looked at his mother for reassurance.

She nodded back. "Go ahead, dear, tell Daniel what you told me. It's alright."

Jordy nodded. "Well, uh, I've been meeting with this group. You know, the one that helps with controlling your inner wolf?"

Xander and the others looked at Oz. He said, "It's a support group for those who get bitten, and can't cope with what they've become. They use various methods to control the beast. It's kind of like AA, only for lycanthropes."

"How many werewolves are there?" Fletcher asked.

"Myself, I think we'll be surprised. As I recall, Los Angeles attracts all kinds of characters. It's not just a Sunnydale thing," Xander quipped.

"Yeah, anyway, there were these new kids who showed up recently. Older, y'know, high school kids. They showed up at one meeting and afterwards they hung around with some of the kids I knew. They were talking about the thrill of the hunt and the inner beast. Lots of kids, particularly the older ones, they seemed to start digging it."

"The counselors know about that?" Fred asked.

"Anne found out about it. She wasn't happy, and the counselor who was running the class wasn't happy either, but you couldn't tell if you didn't know him," Jordy explained. "They were told to leave. They grumbled a lot, but still, eventually they left." The prepubescent child suddenly grabbed a donut from the table.

"And?" Oz prompted Jordy.

Jordy put the donut down. "Later on, I heard some of the older kids talking. They didn't think I was listening, but I was. They were talking about taking up an offer they'd gotten, from-from those kids who were kicked out of the group. Some thought it'd be cool but others didn't want to, I heard 'em say it was wrong."

"What kind of offer?" Xander wanted to know.

Jordy hesitated, recalling what it was like when he'd almost been eaten alive back in March and shivering for a moment. "They called it, uh, an 'all you can eat buffet'."

East Hills Teen Shelter, Los Angeles, California. Less than an hour later

"Hello?" Xander knocked on the office door. "Anyone home?"

The blonde woman sitting at the desk looked up in surprise. Her eyes widened when she saw who was standing in the doorway. "Oz! Great to see you again," she said happily. She got up and hugged the werewolf, was who standing behind Xander.

"Who's your friend, ol' buddy?" Xander asked Oz. He had the strangest feeling that he knew her from somewhere.

Oz turned to the others. "This is Lily, Lily Steele."

"It's Anne now, actually," the blonde also once known as Chantarelle and Sister Sunshine corrected him. "I changed it a while ago. Just don't ask why," she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Right," Oz nodded. "Anyway, she runs the youth center here. I met her a while back when I was passing through Los Angeles. She knows about the things that go bump in the night." He turned back to Anne." This is Alex, Fred and Agent Fletcher."

Anne stared at Xander for a moment; she too had the strangest sense of déjà vu, that she had seen him before. Fortunately, neither of them could remember briefly glimpsing the other during the July of last year, outside the New Hope Family Shelter, as well as that ancient conversation in Sunnydale before Spike and Drusilla had killed Billy Fordham.

Putting aside her weird momentary feelings, Anne just raised an eyebrow. "Agent Fletcher?" She turned to Oz. "Oz, just what kind of crowd have you fallen in with?"

"One with lots of different people," Oz replied.

Anne smirked. "Well, at least they haven't changed you that much." She looked at Xander again for a few seconds. "I've met you before, haven't I?"

Xander almost gulped. "Well, I have that kind of face, so I get that a lot. In fact, I get that all the time!"

"Yeah, I'm sure." She looked back at Oz. "Do I want to ask further?"

"Not right now. We came about the werewolf support group."

Anne smiled. "Oh, right, that started after the last time you were here. I hoped that would help the werewolves I met who were hanging around this karaoke bar, Caritas?"

"Been there," Xander smirked. "How's Lorne doing these days?"

"Okay, or at least he was the last time I saw him," Anne shrugged. "Charles sees him more often than I do."

"Charles?" Fred asked.

Anne smiled again. "Charles Gunn, he's an old friend who used to hang out here a lot, before he started hanging with Cordelia and her friends more often."

"Cordelia?" Xander asked at once, his expression darkening. "Cordelia Chase? You know her?"

"Yes, of course I do," Anne frowned, thinking this guy seemed to know an awful lot of her acquaintances. "We don't see each other all that often ever since she got stuck into her job at Angel Investigations, but she's still a friend. Why, you know her too?"

"You could say that," Xander said thickly. {Geez, but it's a small world isn't it? I'm gonna have to be real careful here, not spill anything about who I really am.}

"Uh, maybe we could get back to the topic of werewolves?" Agent Fletcher asked mildly.

Anne smiled. "Sorry. Anyway, we have some kids here who are werewolves-"

"Jordy's told me about the group meetings," Oz said.

"That's right, I'd almost forgotten - he *is* your cousin. He really is taking well to the group," Anne replied.

"He mentioned something about kids who were causing problems?" Xander said.

Anne frowned. "Well, there are those who aren't benefiting as much from what takes place here."

"They were causing trouble?"

"Talking a big game, the inner wolf and all that," Anne explained in response to Xander's question. She looked at Oz apologetically, "They were talking about, uh, Veruca."

Oz shrugged for a second. "It's alright."

"Veruca?" Fred asked.

"Female werewolf back in Sunnydale," Oz explained shortly.

Fred looked at Xander. He shook his head, silently telling her that explanations would come later. So Oz continued, "These troublemakers, were they small-time or was there a larger purpose to their behavior?"

"I don't know. I asked the regular members of the group, but they weren't keen to talk to me about it. After all, I'm not a werewolf," Anne shrugged.

"But I am," Oz said simply, already having decided on what to do next.

Monserrat Retirement Community, Los Angeles, California. October 6, 2001

The old man named Marcus Roscoe walked out of the retirement home, having just switched bodies with Angel - and having no idea what sort of body he had acquired via his Algurian body-switching spell.

It had all started over a month ago, Marcus had had three heart attacks and figured there was nothing left to lose by trying an occult spell - one he'd learned about after 50 years as a traveling salesman. He had chosen his victims carefully from the health club across the street, using a pair of binoculars; but unfortunately, Marcus had recently chosen the wrong man to switch bodies with and kill after the spell ran its course.

The gym instructor known as Chuck, Cordelia's ex-boyfriend.

The Fang Gang had subsequently investigated the death, a grieving Miss Chase wanting to know how and *why* her ex had collapsed into pile of skin and goo after acting wild and then banging a couple of hookers at an exclusive hotel. Angel had subsequently noticed the retirement home with a perfect view of the gymnasium Chuck and three other dead guys had used, and gone to check it out; and the rest, as they say, was history.

"Ah, hello!"

Marcus-in-Angel turned around to see Cordelia behind the wheel of Angel's car. He walked over, chuckled and leaned on the top of the windshield. "Hell-o," the man said suggestively.

"So, what did you find at the old folks home?" Cordelia asked impatiently, missing out on the innuendo.

"Uh - nothing. Didn't pan out. How about you?" Marcus-in-Angel improvised nervously, immediately figuring that this woman knew the private detective whose body he'd stolen.

"I got nothing too. Damn it, Chuck's dead and we haven't gotten anywhere trying to find out what the hell happened!" the brunette woman fumed, she had talked to a lot of people today with zip to show for it.

{ Uh-oh,} Marcus-in-Angel thought warily. {This might be a problem.} "Pretty clear we're barking up the wrong tree around here, huh?" he said noncommittally.

After a beat, Cordelia nodded in defeat. "Yeah. Well, get in, I'll take you back to the hotel."

Misunderstanding the context of the remark, Marcus-in-Angel just grinned and got into the car. "All right! You and me - going back to the hotel. Nice, huh?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Cordelia asked in concern, as she drove off.

Still grinning, Marcus-in-Angel replied, "Oh, I've never been better."

Soon, they arrived and entered the lobby of the Hyperion. "Nice!" Marcus-in-Angel said, thinking he was going to score with Cordy before he went over to the counter and started hitting the bell. "Hello, anybody home?"

"Angel, what are you doing?" Cordelia asked in surprise, as the bell drew Wesley and Gwen out of the kitchen area.

"Oh...nothing. Slow night, huh?" Marcus-in-Angel again improvised quickly as he saw the new arrivals. "Hi."

"Angel. Did you learn anything at the health club?" Wesley asked, darting a look at Cordelia.

"Nah, total bust. So, what's shaking around here?" Marcus-in-Angel asked, as he finally saw the 'Angel Investigations' stationery and figured out that this was where the detective agency was based.

"Not a lot. Charles flaked on us again," Gwen said, rolling her eyes. She had no idea how the black man was still trying to come to grips with killing a man in public, even if he knew the Lost Boys would never rat him out to the cops.

"Yeah, he's been doing that a bit lately, huh?" Marcus-in-Angel ad-libbed glibly. Then his eyes went wide as he saw a very pregnant Darla come down the stairs. "Whoa! Hello..."

Darla took one look at Angel's body, and with undead super-speed she dashed forward and wrapped a hand around the male vampire's neck, lifting him up off the ground as Marcus-in-Angel started dangling and kicking his legs wildly. "Who are you?" she growled angrily.

"Darla, what are you doing?!" Cordelia demanded at once as Marcus-in-Angel gurgled, not knowing he didn't need to breathe. "Have you totally lost it? Let Angel go!"

"THIS isn't Angel," Darla grunted, before releasing Marcus-in-Angel. "Like I said, who are you?"

"Uh, Darla, I don't know what's gotten into you." Gwen started to say carefully.

"Wesley, Cordelia, Gwen - all of you, be quiet! If this is Angel, then there are things he should know which I'm willing to bet that he doesn't." Darla turned to the impostor and said, "Like, where and when did we first meet? What's the name of my unborn child? Who's Spike and Drusilla? The list could go on and on."

Marcus-in-Angel had already started to panic, and looked ready to make a mad dash for the front door. But Gwen, who had already stripped off her gloves, saw him tense up; and having become a true believer, she zapped the body thief before he could get away. Marcus-in-Angel collapsed into an unconscious heap at their feet.

"God, I love electricity sometimes," Gwen smirked at her fellow Angel Investigations employees.

Outside the Monserrat Retirement Community, Los Angeles, California. A while later

Taking care to avoid the patrolling orderlies, the Fang Gang carefully snuck into the retirement home. They made their way to Marcus's room, after figuring out the situation with its view of the gym like Angel had done, and Wesley quickly noticed the small Algurian conjuring orb on a shrine as they entered.

"It's about time you people showed up!" Angel-in-Marcus complained, as everyone trooped in carrying the unconscious male vampire. "I've been locked up in here by the damn staff, I...ohhh," the guy suddenly started clutching his heart. "Wes, hurry up and get me back in my own body!"

"God, it's amazing," Gwen shook her head as she stared at Marcus's body. Then she turned to Darla as Cordy and Wes got busy, "So how did you know it wasn't him, straight off the bat?"

"Angelus and I were together for 150 years, and I've gotten to know Angel pretty well ever since those gypsies cursed him with a soul," the pregnant woman replied. "Cliché or otherwise, I could see it in his eyes."

By this time, Cordy and Wes had put Angel's unconscious body in a chair in the room. Angel-in-Marcus sat down on the chair across from Marcus-in-Angel as Wes handed him a piece of paper. "Read this."

"Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota," the old man chanted, his strength visibly flagging.

Angel's head came up as a blue light started to issue forth from Marcus's eyes and nose, a red one likewise coming from Angel. The blue light disappeared into Angel's mouth, while the red light entered Marcus the same way as soon as the blue light had vanished.

Marcus's and Angel's heads sagged onto their chests, but after a moment Angel's head snapped up. He looked up at everyone and said, "Guys? Hey, I'm back!"

"Welcome back," Wesley said, as Cordelia and Gwen untied him. "How do you feel?"

"It feels good to be me again," the male vampire said fervently, before he grabbed Darla into a hug. "Are you okay? Is Connor okay?"

"We're both fine,' Darla said with a smirk. "Thank you for asking."

"Hmm," Wesley said after spotting a shelf holding various pottery. "A Nothian herb jar? Rather exotic item, I have to say. This fellow certainly has an interesting collection, whatever his name is."

"It's Marcus. Marcus Roscoe," Angel said, as the old man finally woke up. "Wakey-wakey there, Marcus. How are you feeling?"

Marcus saw Angel holding Darla tightly and cursed him, "You - you don't deserve that body!"

"And *you* don't deserve to live," Cordelia suddenly growled, pulling a silver knife out and advancing forward.

"Cordelia? What are you *doing*?" Angel demanded in surprise, as he let go of Darla.

Cordy looked at him scornfully. "What do you *think* I'm gonna do? Hello, this guy is a serial killer! Wrinkly old senior citizen or not, Angel, he murdered Chuck with that body-switching mojo! It's just lucky you're a vampire, or you'd have been victim number five!"

"A vampire?" Marcus asked looking terrified, but no one was paying any attention to him.

"Princess, you can't just kill him in cold blood. That's crossing a line you can't ever come back from," Gwen warned her.

"She's right," Darla nodded. "Take it from someone who knows - on account of Angel and I have both killed more people than you've had decent meals."

"Cordelia? I just have one question, if I may - what do you think Xander Harris would say if he was here right now?" Wesley asked softly.

Miss Chase glared at him for that, when Marcus clutched at his chest and then keeled over onto the floor. Everyone rushed to examine him, but the vampires knew it was already too late; there was no longer any heartbeat emanating from the body.

"Let's just get out of here before someone finds us," Angel said firmly as he took the knife from Cordy's hands and ushered his crew out of the room.

East Hills Teen Shelter, Los Angeles, California. October 7, 2001

Oz didn't look up as the werewolf teenagers started filing into the communal room for their regularly scheduled meeting. Oz sat in the middle of the circle of chairs, strumming a guitar. The teenagers milled around him, several looking around and one of them asking where the monk was.

One of boys walked up to Oz. "What are you doing?"

"Strumming. Helps with calming me down, and dealing with the beast."

Another of the teenagers walked up and smirked, "Yeah, and what do you know about that?"

"A lot more than you." The teenagers looked at the door where a young Asian woman stood. She nodded to him, "Oz."

Oz raised an eyebrow at the sight of a human-looking female Kaohsiung demon he knew well. "Jinan?"

"Good to see you again. How was your trip home?" she smiled at her former crush.

"Surprising at times," Oz commented laconically.

"And your friends?"

"Surprising too."

"Who *is* this guy?" one of the female teens demanded.

Jinan turned to the teenagers. "Oz, here? Well, he's been in the exact same place all of you currently are. He's a werewolf, and has been for nearly four years."

"No way," one of the teenagers whispered, as many of the werewolf cubs stared at the older lycanthrope in sudden amazement.

Oz looked at Jinan. "You help with the class?"

"I run it."

Oz raised an eyebrow. "I was told some monk was running it."

"You never heard of a female monk before?" Oz continued looking at Jinan. "Okay, okay, so I was sent by Shantou to help out. But what brings you here? Not that I'm complaining, but last I heard you had complete control of your inner wolf."

"Well, close enough. And Jordy mentioned there were troublemakers showing up from out of town."

Jinan walked closer to Oz. "Yeah, but they're gone now."

Oz turned his gaze to the teenagers. "I heard they left a forwarding address, though."

Jinan turned her attention to the teenagers also. "Well?" The teens started glancing at one another. She spoke again, "Well?"

"Uh, you see Jinan, it's like this..." one of the girls started stammering out and then hesitated.

The human-looking demoness folded her arms and looked at the girl. "Go on."

"Well, Jason and some of the others, they wanted to hear more. They met up with them a few nights ago."

"So what happened?" Jinan prompted her.

"We don't know," a boy answered this time. "Jason and the others haven't been seen since."

"Well, not all of them," another boy spoke up.

"That needs explaining," Oz said emotionlessly, which was starting to make the younger teens nervous.

"Um, I saw Lauren last night, at a store down off Macarthur," the young man replied rather nervously.

Oz looked at Jinan. "Macarthur, huh? I think there's space in the van if you want to ride with us."

Jinan smiled. "Oh, yeah, I'm not going to miss this for anything."

Macarthur Street, Los Angeles, California. A while later

Fletcher shifted uncomfortably in the van seat. "I know why we didn't bring the Crown Victoria, still I can-"

"The next word you're about to say had better not start with a 'w' and end with an 'ish'," Xander interrupted Fletcher warningly. "Believe me when I say you never want to speak that word aloud. Very bad things could happen. I know."

Fletcher held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, fine. That goes into the weird things that now form a part of my daily existence."

"There she is," Anne said from the front seat. She was nodding at a blonde with stringy hair who was leaving the store.

Xander leaned forward and looked over Oz's shoulder. "How do you want to handle this?"

Anne answered, "I suggest me, Jinan and Oz talk to her, if too many people approach her she'll run off."

Anne, Jinan and Oz got out of the van and went up to the girl as the others watched. Fred looked out the window, and said to Harris, "So Oz knows this Jinan girl from China?"

Xander nodded. "Guess so. Betcha there's a story there too."

Outside, Lauren saw Oz and the others approached her. "Anne, Jinan. What's up?"

Jinan spoke first. "We need to talk."

Lauren looked uneasy at once. "What's wrong? I've been coming to the group meetings-"

Anne managed to speak before Jinan. "But what about talking to people after the group meetings?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Jinan frowned, this girl was not a good liar. "Yes you do, we know you and Jason met with those troublemakers from out of town."

A look crossed Lauren's face, she was clearly having a fierce internal mental debate before she said, "Look, I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't buy into that whole thing, that's why I told them thanks but no thanks."

"You know what they're doing and where?" Oz said.

Lauren looked at Oz for the first time. "Who are you?"

"Someone who's getting impatient," was Oz's answer. He quickly showed her a glimpse of fangs and inhuman wolf eyes, and Lauren yelped and jumped back.

"Hey, I don't want any more trouble. Isn't it enough that I'm not involved?" the blonde girl looked from person to person.

"They were talking about letting the inner beast out and going on the hunt. That doesn't sound good news to me," Anne said. "In fact, it sounds like they're planning to get people killed or at least seriously hurt. You need to help us stop that."

Lauren looked panicked. "If I tell-!"

"What, they'll be mad? Are you really more afraid of them than of me? Of us?" Jinan nodded at Oz. "He's a lot scarier than me, Lauren. Trust me; I've seen Oz fight against entire hordes of demons in Tibet when he let his inner wolf out."

Oz raised an eyebrow at that. "It would be good to help us."

"But Jason said to not tell anyone," Lauren whined. "He's mean, and you can't be there to protect me 24/7!"

Anne spoke this time. "If he's willing to go that far, Lauren, then let me ask you this - how long before Jason turns on you? People like that, if they give in too much to the beast, eventually they eat everything around them."

"Sometimes, literally," Oz added.

Lauren looked from face to face again in desperation. Finally she took a deep breath. "I don't know much, Jason and three others signed up for whatever it is Veruca is selling. I don't know exactly what it is they're planning either."

"Then what do you know?" Oz asked. He wasn't showing it, but he was majorly off-balance at the mention of the dead female werewolf. He had killed her to save Willow; so Oz didn't know how she could possibly be here in Los Angeles now.

Well, assuming that no one had done any black magic resurrection rituals anyway...

"An address."

"Good, you can take us there," Jinan said.

"It's going to be a long drive."

"What do you mean?" Anne asked of Lauren.

"It's in Seattle."

Seattle, Washington. The next morning

Fletcher and Xander approached the apartment door, Oz, Fred and Jinan following behind them. "Apartment 6H, here we go," Fletcher said.

"So what do you want to do?" Fred asked. "I mean, we can't just go up and knock on the front door, can we?"

Fletcher and Xander exchanged a look. Xander said, "Why not?" He walked up and knocked on the door. "Hello! Federal agents, open up."

"Xander..." Fred whispered.

"What? I mean I don't have a fancy badge like Fletcher here, but we get our paychecks from Uncle Sam don't we?"

"I don't have a badge, you know."

Xander looked at Fletcher. "What?"

"We don't carry badges like on TV and the movies, we have ID cards."

"But you're still Federal agents? I mean you're called G-men and everything?" Jinan asked.

"Yeah, Washington approved and everything." Fletcher nodded at the door. "Try again."

Xander knocked again and shouted, "Federal agents! Open the door!"

About a minute went by. Xander looked at Oz and asked, "Hear anything?"

Oz shook his head. "No."

Fred looked around. "Now what?"

"We go in?" Xander asked.

"Ah, remember that conversation we had a minute ago about being Federal agents? There is this thing called probable cause, and Federal agents need it to enter someone's residence," Malcolm explained.

Xander smiled at Fletcher and pointed, "She's not a Federal agent."

The others turned and looked at what he was pointing. Jinan stood there with a slight smile on her face.

A few moments later, the door flew inwards.

Xander and Fletcher looked in through the remains of the door. Xander looked backwards and remarked, "I was thinking something more along the lines of you could pick the lock."

Jinan stood behind him with the smile still on her face. "This was quicker."

The group made their way into the apartment and started looking around. Fletcher picked up some mail that was on the floor. "Tony Simmons," he read out loud. "Must be his apartment."

"Was," Oz gestured at the dried blood on the wall.

Xander came in from the kitchen. "Pizza boxes, lots of them and other fast food. Whoever did it was here for awhile, hung around and helped themselves."

"Teenagers, other than the blood - the apartment looks like what my place looks like after the nephew and his friends visit," Fletcher commented.

"Simmons wasn't a teenager," Fred said as she handed a picture of a man in a uniform to Fletcher.

"What kind of uniform is that?" Jinan asked. "It doesn't look like a police or military uniform." The others looked over Fletcher's shoulder.

"An ice cream vendor, maybe?" Xander asked.

Fred glanced at Xander. "What brought that on?"

"I once sold ice cream, they had me wear a less fancy version of that kind of uniform."

Oz raised an eyebrow, he was definitely doing that a lot lately. "Twinkies as well?"

Xander chuckled. "Nah, those were on the house."

"Cruise ship."

The others looked at Fletcher. "Two years ago, the wife and I went on an anniversary cruise. That's the kind of uniform they wore. He worked on a cruise ship."

"Okay, but why him? I mean, why did these guys choose his apartment to hide out? They were taking a risk that he would be missed," Fred commented.

"Maybe that was the point," Xander said slowly.

"I'm on it," Fletcher said as he pulled out his cell phone.

Local dockside, Seattle, Washington. Later that day

The horn blew loud and clear across the quay. Xander and the others stood around the Crown Victoria and looked on, as the cruise ship pulled away from the dock.

"We're too late," Jinan said in obvious disappointment.

"Well, we'll just have to find another way to get on board," Xander commented.

Georgetown, Washington D.C. A few minutes later

Cleburne cradled the phone on his shoulder. "You want to go on a cruise ship? Kid, if you want a vacation, just say so - I can arrange it."

He listened for a few minutes while he glanced at a form placed in front of him by Gunny. He glared for a few seconds, Gunny staring back and not even flinching. Cleburne shrugged and signed the form before saying, "Okay, but you checked out the apartment where whoever it was that's behind all this was hiding out, so what do you hope to find on the ship?"

Gunny picked up the paper and left the office. "Yeah, fine, they might know something, but can't you wait until the ship gets back? The full moon is still two nights away." Cleburne listened. "Really, the night before also changes people into werewolves? I did not know that." He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. "Well, tell you what, there's a Coast Guard station near Seattle, head over there and I'll set up a helo to take you out to the ship."

Cleburne hung up the phone, and noticed that his second-in-command was back. In response to Gunny's look he said, "I just know that I'm going to regret not being there with 'em on this one."

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. October 8, 2001

Not long after midnight, the helicopter was hovering off the deck of the cruise ship. Xander, Oz, Fred, Jinan and Fletcher jumped out of the helicopter, alone; the usual security detail was absent for this one, there hadn't been enough room on the chopper and the passengers on board the ship would be sure to notice the presence of a goon squad anyway. Cleburne figured that help could get there quickly if things got...hairy, in more ways than one, and it might be worth giving Xander a chance to hone his leadership instincts out in the field.

A uniformed ship's officer hurried forward to meet the group as the helicopter rose up and flew off. "Welcome aboard the Northern Explorer! You got here just in time; we've got a bad weather front moving in, nothing will be able to fly in or out until tomorrow night at least. I'm First Officer Matt Leverigdis - please, follow me, and I'll take you to the captain."

The Siberians followed Leverigdis through the ship to the bridge, where a middle-aged gentleman was waiting for them. "I'm Captain Timmons. Now who are you people, and what are you doing aboard my ship?"

Fletcher showed his ID. "Agent Malcolm Fletcher, FBI. We're investigating the Simmons disappearance."

Timmons raised an eyebrow. "Disappearance? I got me no doubts he's just sleeping off a bender, man's always had a drinking problem. First time he's missed a cruise, granted, but not the first time he's drunk too much."

"Well, with everything going on, we're helping out local law enforcement with some investigations that might have a national security connection," Fletcher said easily.

"Simmons drinking has national security connections?" Captain Timmons asked skeptically.

"Cruise ships are a concern at the present time, well - all forms of transportation. The terrorists are looking for any way to hit us at the moment," Fletcher pointed out.

"Not sure what Simmons could do, then, he was second assistant purser. He just counted shipping containers," Timmons grunted.

"I thought this was a cruise ship?" Xander asked.

"We ship some freight up to Alaska now and then, helps with the profit margin. Containers don't want to be comp'ed for a bad floor show." The captain turned to the officer who had led them to the bridge. "Mr. Leverigdis, take care of this as quickly as you can - help these people out with their inquiries, and then resume your duties once they're satisfied. Me, I've got a ship to run."

A few minutes later the group was walking through the cargo hold, following Leverigdis as he spoke. "Well, it's not as much cargo as you might think from listening to the captain, just the odd container here and there."

"Simmons oversaw that?" Fred asked.

Leverigdis smiled at her, appreciating the brunette woman's good looks. "Well, he handled the paperwork and oversaw the packing. The personnel at the harbor do the actual loading and unloading."

"Who checks the containers?" Fletcher asked as they walked through the room.

"Simmons. He did a daily walk-through."

"But he's not here for this trip, so who's filling in for him now?" Xander asked.

"Crewman Veruca, would you like to meet him?"

Oz and Xander exchanged a look.

"Were Veruca and Simmons friends?" Fletcher asked, noting that look between the former Scoobies.

Leverigdis thought for a second. "I'm honestly not sure about that. Veruca is still pretty new to the ship; this is only his third cruise with us."

"His?" Oz asked at once.

Leverigdis looked surprised at the question. "Yeah, one of those kids who want to see the world. They sign on for a year or two, and then move on to whatever they do next."

"You have many of that type aboard?"

Leverigdis turned back to Fletcher. "Well, not as many as there used to be. Ever since September 11th, the new security policies put into place by the company has made it more difficult for them to get hired on. We had to turn several applicants down right before this cruise, oddly enough, because there wasn't sufficient time to do a background check on them and all."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Did they come with a recommendation?"

"Actually yes, Veruca recommended them. You want me to get him?"

Xander and Oz exchanged a second look before Xander replied, "Not just yet."

Elsewhere aboard the ship. Not long after dawn

A young man in uniform walked along the main deck of the ship, nodding to passengers as he moved along.

"That's him," Leverigdis said, as he and the Siberians looked down from a window in a room on the foredeck of the ship.

"You've had no problems with him?" Fletcher asked.

A shake of the head was the response. "Hard worker, never caused any incidents while he's been part of the ship's company."

Xander looked at his friend. "Oz?"

"He's one of us," was the lycanthrope's brisk reply.

"One of us? One of who? What do you mean?" the ship's first officer looked around in confusion, but no one paid any attention to him.

"You sure?" Jinan asked.

"Yep," Oz nodded his head slowly.

Below them, Crewman Kevin Veruca looked up with a feral grin on his face.

1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. The same time

Things were looking rather bad for the white hats, right at the moment.

If he'd had the time to think about it, Xander might have remembered something that had been scheduled to happen on the Hellmouth at roughly this time. Namely, a big ugly M'Fashnik demon that was out to kill the Slayer. When Xander had first thought about it, he had recalled the demon had been connected to the nerd trio. He had thought that the elimination of Warren would solve that problem.

Still the M'Fashnik demon had come to Sunnydale to make his name, and not being that bright, he figured taking on the Slayer was the way to do so. Since Buffy had no use for the whole 'secret identity' thing, it had managed to track her down at last.

He had arrived during breakfast. Giles had come over early to check in on Buffy, as Buffy had been depressed the last few days with the lack of progress. She had been in contact with Cordelia in Los Angeles. Cordy hadn't been able to make any progress with Angel and crew about how she could contact Xander. Willow's efforts, both magical and technological, had also been fruitless.

Joyce had been worried about Buffy and the others, and she couldn't tell the others about her meeting Xander in Washington. Joyce had also been distracted by the worsening financial situation faced by the Summers family, the downturn in business at the gallery since 9/11 had hurt and so had the recent plumbing problems at the house. She had asked Giles to talk to Buffy, not that Giles needed a reason to come over.

So it came to be that the Summers household was in the kitchen when they heard the front door rattling. Giles got up to see who was there and had gotten halfway down the hallway when the door was smashed down by the M'Fashnik. The demon came in, growling. "Where is the Slayer!?" it demanded, before backhanding Giles aside; he crashed again the banister of the stairs and collapsed unconscious. "Where is she?!" He advanced down the hallway.

Dawn screamed, as Joyce held her tight. The M'Fashnik looked at the Key in annoyance and said, "You're not the Slayer. But you'll do for a start." He advanced into the kitchen, not seeing Buffy behind the counter.

Buffy jumped over the kitchen counter to get at the demon, kicking it hard in the side. The M'Fashnik staggered back, as the Chosen One saw what had happened to the front door. "Oh, you are *so* gonna be paying the repair bill for that!" Joyce ushered Dawn out of the kitchen.

The demon got up, holding a piece of the table it had crashed into. The M'Fashnik looked at it, before tossing it aside disinterestedly. It smashed into a lamp on a side table, destroying it. "You have cost me, Slayer."

"I cost *you*? That was a designer lamp, ya mook!" Buffy yelled furiously, and then the fight was on.

Punch, block, kick, parry, Buffy was in the fight of her life as she and the demon crashed into various parts of the house. Finally the blonde Slayer yelled at Joyce and Dawn, "Open the basement door! We can't afford any more property damage up here!"

Dawn obeyed orders, and Buffy wrestled her opponent down the stairs. Miss Summers managed to grab the banister to break her fall, but the M'Fashnik landed with a splash; just like in that other world, the Summers family had tried to save money by fixing the plumbing themselves before water had sprayed everywhere and a full copper re-pipe was needed.

One that Tito the plumber had charged top dollar for, as he had never heard of anyone named Xander Harris.

"I will not miss again, Slayer!" the M'Fashnik growled as it got up from the basement floor still flooded ankle-deep with water. It looked up, grabbed a piece of pipe along the ceiling and broke it off.

"NO!" Buffy screamed in deep emotional pain, as water began spraying again from the broken pipe that she had just recently fixed. "No, no, no!" With everything that had been going on, she just snapped.

Later on, Buffy had no clear memory of how she did it. But as the mercenary tried to attack her with the pipe she grabbed it, kicked the demon in the groin and then hit him with the pipe. The M'Fashnik went down with a big splash.

Almost losing it completely Buffy began hitting the bad guy with the piece of pipe, one stroke for each word. "Full! Copper! Re-pipe! Full! Copper! Re-pipe!"

Finally she stopped. The demon was floating face-down in the water, obviously dead.

Buffy dropped the pipe into the water, looked up, and sighed. The young woman walked over to where the pipe attached to the ceiling was still emitting a steady trickle of water. She stared at it unhappily, wondering how on earth her family was going to pay for this latest fiasco.

"Buffy? Are you okay?!" Dawn's worried voice came from upstairs.

{ Oh my God - mom! And Giles! } Miss Summers dragged her waterlogged body up the stairs to find her mother and little sister attending to Giles. "Is he okay?"

"He's still out cold, but that's nothing new," Dawn replied, momentarily gazing at the British man. "Mom?" the brunette girl looked at Joyce. "Are you okay?"

The middle-aged woman managed to bite back a curse as the pain hit her. "Yes, but I think I'm going to be using that cane for a while longer now than I'd anticipated, dear, I think I pulled something during the trouble," she managed to get out as calmly as possible. "Rupert?!"

"Oh, bloody hell - not again," Giles muttered, feeling the lump on his head after he woke up. "One of these days, I really *am* going to wake up in a bleeding coma."

"Excuse me," a strange, accented voice said as Brother Feodor stood at the empty doorway, and all four inhabitants of the house turned to stare at the abbot of the Order of Dagon, the man who had turned the Key into Dawn last year. "But have I come at a bad time?"

The Northern Explorer, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. A while later

"So we know he's up to something," Fred commented. She, Xander and the others were seated around a table in one of the ship's lounges.

"I'd say that's a pretty safe assumption," Fletcher said. "They've maneuvered it so Veruca had oversight of the cargo. They clearly wanted to smuggle something on board. However, why would werewolves go to all that trouble?"

Jinan took a sip from the tea she had ordered. "This is quite good. And smuggling is something for which you do not need experience in the supernatural, from what I've heard; indeed, sometimes it's to your benefit if you don't."

"Still, why go and recruit teenage werewolves as part of the scheme? Somehow, I don't think they would have the mental stability to be effective long-term criminals," Fletcher said.

"Well, on at least three nights out of the month," Oz said laconically.

"Which is coming up tomorrow night, so whatever they're up to it's going to happen soon." Fred stood up and asked, "Does anyone want anything from the buffet?"

Something clicked in Xander's mind, as he turned to look at where Fred was heading. {Wait a minute.}

Oz noticed the look on Xander's face. "What?"

"All you can eat buffet," Xander said.

"Yeah," Fred said as she turned around. "It's part of the cruise ship package. The passengers sure seem to like it."

Xander shook his head. "No, Fred - I mean, it's so simple, why didn't we see it before? The werewolves aren't here for the all you can eat buffet - as far as they're concerned, the *passengers* are the all you can eat buffet!"

A short while later

Xander hung up the phone in disgust. "Cleburne says the weather's preventing any reinforcements from getting to us any time soon. He's contacted the Coast Guard, but the closest ship can't get here until tomorrow night at the earliest."

"Well, that's cutting it awful close, maybe we can get the captain to change course to meet the Coast Guard early?" Fred said. "What?" She had noticed the look Oz and Xander exchanged.

"Werewolves. They change the night before the full moon, as well as during and the night after," Oz explained.

"You mean-?" Fred had a dawning look of horror on her face.

Xander nodded in response to Fred's question. "Tonight's the night for the main course."

Everyone exchanged a look. "Well, I have three clips of ammo; luckily I made a point of getting silver bullets when I figured out we might be going up against werewolves," Fletcher said.

Oz frowned at that. "Technically, they're just kids. Can't exactly do an imitation of the OK Corral here."

"Also, I kinda doubt they'll all gather together in one place and remain stationary targets," Xander commented. "They'll probably be spread all throughout the ship after the sun goes down. We also don't know how many there are. We know about the group in Los Angeles, yeah, but who's to say there aren't others? This Veruca character could have been recruiting from all over the place."

"So we're facing an enemy who we don't know the numbers and location of, while at the same time not wanting to hurt them too much?" Jinan asked. She looked at Oz. "Here in the United States, you really do believe in making things easy."

"It's a comfort thing," Oz replied.

"Okay, if blasting away at them like Wyatt Earp isn't an option, then what do we do? Tell the captain everyone has to abandon ship?" Fletcher asked.

"No, the werewolves would blend in with the passengers and only cause problems later. And that's if we could convince Timmons to go along with something like that," Xander said. "Which, having met the man, I kinda doubt. At least not without a lot of hard evidence about the supernatural."

"Somehow, he didn't strike me as someone who'd believe in werewolves," Fred said philosophically.

"So, we're on our own for the night, at least until we have werewolves running around on deck."

"And yet somehow, I think the Cruise Director would have a problem with that," Oz said in response to Xander's comment.

Fred frowned. "Wait a minute. They went to an awful lot of trouble to get Veruca overseeing that cargo hold."

"Yes," Xander agreed. He knew that look, Fred was thinking hard and it was going somewhere.

"Also, this cruise ship doesn't strike me as the kind of place where a group of teenagers waiting to go on a killing spree would go unnoticed. I mean, they probably couldn't pay the cost of a ticket - or at least not the majority of them."

Fletcher nodded. "Okay, so they're stowaways."

"But, but where do they hide until it's feeding time? The ship's crew would notice them, right? There's not really any place on a ship this small that isn't monitored by the crew."

"But, one of the crew is one of them," Jinan said.

"The same crewman who's currently responsible for supervising the cargo hold, because Mr. Simmons recently met his untimely end."

"And he's not going to say anything to anyone about what's in the cargo hold," Fletcher completed Fred's thought. "Especially if his fellow werewolves are hiding in the shipping containers."

"It wouldn't exactly be comfortable for them. Hardly what you'd call an ideal hiding place," Xander said, playing devil's advocate.

"When I was with the Baltimore FBI field office, there was a case once where women were smuggled into the country in shipping containers to be used as prostitutes and slave labor. Somehow, they stayed in those containers for weeks on end," Fletcher explained.

"So a day or two should be doable," Oz said.

"And then they come out to eat when the moon rises," Xander said. "All right, so we know where they are - what do we do about them?"

"How long do we have?"

"About four hours," Fred answered Fletcher's question.

"So whatever we do, we have to do it quickly."

Xander nodded at Jinan's comment. "And in such a way that the crew helps out and doesn't lock us up as candidates for the psycho ward." He instinctively turned to the female genius of the group. "Fred? You got any ideas?"

The Texan woman looked thoughtful for a second then stood up. "Yes, but I need to get some information - come on, let's go!"

Elsewhere on the Northern Explorer. A few minutes later

"Here you go," Leverigdis said as he unfurled some blueprints. "See, the cargo hold is compartmentalized and watertight. And if for some reason we do start taking in water there, then we can seal it off from the rest of the ship."

"And nothing can get out, like beat its way out?" Fred asked as she looked over the blueprints.

"Solid steel doors, Ms. Burkle, it would take a jackhammer to get through them."

Fred, Oz and Xander exchanged looks amongst themselves as they leaned over the blueprints. "You sure about that, it'll hold?" Xander asked.

Leverigdis looked confused. "Of course, the cargo hold is an important area; they're intentionally built sturdy."

Xander straightened up from the table. "Alright, then I think we have the basis of a plan."

The ship's first officer looked at the exiles. "What's going on?"

Xander exhaled, hoping like heck that the cover story the group had come up with would hold up under close scrutiny.

The ship's bridge. A few minutes later

"Wolves?" Captain Timmons asked incredulously. "On *my* ship?"

Fletcher nodded. The exiles had decided to let him do the talking, since he was the oldest as well as the official representative of the United States government. The hope was that the cover story might sound more plausible if it came from him.

"Yes, sir, from what we can gather they were stolen from a laboratory in Oregon. The lab was conducting some kind of genetic research on them, enhancing their aggressiveness amongst other things. There was even talk of potential military applications, using them as weapons where the army didn't want to risk its soldiers - that sort of thing. Unfortunately, an animal liberation splinter group broke into the lab and stole the wolves. The plan was to smuggle them to Alaska to release them into the wild, and uh, your Crewman Veruca is secretly part of the plan. Part of the group who 'liberated' the animals."

"So then, why kill Simmons?" Leverigdis asked, still finding it hard to believe the criminal accusations being leveled against one of his people like this.

"Simple," said Xander with a hard look on his face. "Veruca would end up in control of the cargo hold. In other words, he can watch over the wolves without any fuss. Remember those teenagers you told us about who applied for work aboard this ship? They were supposed to be here as well, to help take care of the wolves whenever he was on duty."

"All right, assuming for the sake of argument that all this isn't a pile of horse manure. Why all the worry? I mean Veruca will keep them in their cages or whatever until we get to Alaska, right?" Timmons demanded.

Fletcher shook his head. "Veruca is actually part of a radical offshoot of the splinter group, Captain. They want to go beyond just rescuing the animals. They want to punish humans for acts of cruelty carried out against animals."

"Punish how?"

Fletcher kept looking at Captain Timmons as he answered the question. "Well, it turns out that one of the corporate managers who approved the experiments is a passenger, here on this ship. We think the plan is to let all the wolves loose amongst the passengers, see how much *they* enjoy being part of an all you can eat buffet."

"On my ship?" Timmons asked again, eyes wide.

"Certainly makes a statement, you have to admit," Oz said tersely.

"These animal rights people would actually do something like that?" Leverigdis asked, looking ill.

"Up until last month, animal rights terrorist organizations were officially the primary domestic terrorist concern of the Bureau," Fletcher explained.

"Odds are they want to get back to number one on the top ten terrorist hit list," Xander added. "Matter of pride as well as logistics."

{Unbelievable} the captain shook his head. "So what do we do?" Timmons asked.

Not far from the cargo hold. Many hours later

Fletcher and Xander hurried down the corridor, acutely aware of the passing afternoon hours. "How long till sundown?" Xander asked into his STW radio.

"Ninety minutes, so I'd say time's up," was the answer Fred gave over the radio. "We don't want to wait until the last minute because they'll probably scatter before then, to maximize their hunting ground."

"So basically, we're playing chicken with a herd of werewolves?"

"Yep," Fred said to Xander's question as he and Fletcher went through a doorway into another corridor, this one greyer and more utilitarian than the others, closing the door as they did so. They came to the bulkhead leading to the cargo bay.

"Here we are," Xander said simply.

Fletcher looked around. "Not that I don't think it's a bad idea to lock them up. Still, what are we going to do when morning comes? Tomorrow they'll have their wits about them again, and may figure a way out."

"One crisis at a time, pal," Xander said curtly. Then he said into the radio, "We're in position, Fred."

"Good, Mr. Leverigdis is on his way."

Xander nodded at Fred's report. "I've been thinking, Fred, how do we know Veruca isn't the only werewolf amongst the crew? For all we know Leverigdis could be one, or maybe even the captain himself!"

"Oz, he says he isn't getting the werewolf vibe off of them, or any of the others in the crew."

Fletcher pressed the earpiece into his ear. "He can tell?"

"He says those monks in Tibet taught him how."

"Yeesh. If only I knew at Quantico what I know now," Fletcher muttered. He looked up as Leverigdis came running down the hallway followed by three crewmen. The crewmen were carrying chains and padlocks.

"Here you go, we found as much of them as we could. Still, is all this really necessary?" the first officer asked.

"Oh yeah, these things are different, lot stronger than your average wolf. We can't take any chances," Xander said firmly. "And just so you know, it's probably going to get a little freaky."

Leverigdis looked up from overseeing the crewmen putting the chains on the door into the cargo hold. "Freaky?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Fletcher said, shaking his head.

"In addition to enhancing their aggressiveness, there were other changes made."

Leverigdis looked at Xander. "Other changes?"

"This is all classified and everything, okay? But as part of their enhancements, these wolves were engineered to employ certain tricks while they hunt. This included modifying their throats and larynxes so they can mimic certain sounds."

"Such as?"

"Human voices, believe it or not; they were taught to make noises that sound like humans calling for help. Apparently, it was intended to draw their targets to them," Xander said, marveling for a moment at how easily the lies were coming out of his mouth.

"Just what the hell are these wolves of yours?" Leverigdis demanded in disbelief.

"Bottom line, they're killing machines without any remorse. Something you need to stay away from," Xander reached down and keyed the radio he had. "Okay, we're secure here."

"Problem," Oz's voice said over the radio.

Fred answered him. "Go on."

"Jinan and I went to trail Veruca. He's gone."

Xander and Fletcher exchanged a look. "He could be inside?" Fletcher nodded to the cargo hold.

"Who? " Leverigdis said.

"Veruca," Xander said.

"No, no, he's not. I saw him in the corridor as we were coming here," one of the crewmen said. "He was headed down here, but I told him we had it covered."

"You did what?!" Leverigdis glared at the crewman, who visibly wilted.

"Damn it. That means he knows we're onto him," Xander said in annoyance.

Elsewhere aboard the ship. Half an hour later

Xander quickly jogged up to Oz and Jinan. "Fletcher is watching the cargo hold. I'd say the only one we have to worry about right now is Veruca."

Oz glanced at his watch. "It's about an hour before sunset."

"Do you think Veruca can control the wolf the way you can?" Xander said.

Oz shook his head. "Shantou never mentioned him to me."

"Or me. And if he was willing to do something like this, he's most likely completely surrendered to the beast," Jinan speculated. "He probably likes the idea being the only wolf on the hunt tonight."

"Will he try to free the others?"

Oz thought for a second about Xander's question. "Depends on how much he gives in to his werewolf impulses."

"What would you do?"

"Well, not eat the passengers."

"A good idea if I ever heard one," Fred said over the radio.

"Okay, assuming you want to eat them, what would you do?" Xander said, trying to be patient.

"Depends on how much control is retained. If I was him, I'd think the more wolves were running loose, the more problems there will be for the crew."

Jinan nodded. "So he starts out by freeing the others?"

Oz thought for a second. "Problem is it's too obvious, the cargo hold will be well guarded. If the passengers are attacked first, the chaos might work to his advantage. At some point he could circle back and open up the cargo hold."

Xander keyed up the radio again. "Okay, Fred, you're in the room with all the monitors, do you see any large groups of passengers hanging around that look like something our perp will take an interest in?"

A few seconds passed before she replied, "I don't see anything that immediately jumps out."

Jinan looked at the wall behind Xander and Oz. "Maybe not now, but I think I know where he'll be in an hour." She pointed at the wall.

Xander and Oz turned around and saw the listing of the ship's social events on display on the wall. The first event listed blared out in big letters, "COME SEE THE SUNSET WITH US ON DECK."

Security center not far away from the bridge. A while later

Fred looked from monitor to monitor as she sat alone in the ship's security center, not far away from the bridge. "Nothing, guys, I don't see him anywhere."

"Well, he's got to be around here somewhere," Xander said in response. "I don't think he's the type to just run away when things get a little tough, anyhow."

"He'll want to be close by when the change occurs," Oz added. "Otherwise, his prey might scatter too much for his taste."

"We'll keep looking. Jinan, anything on your end?"

"An awful lot of passengers, but no Veruca," she said in response to Xander's question.

"Damn it," Harris cursed. "Fred?"

Fred keyed her microphone. "Fletcher's still babysitting the cargo hold, and the cameras have all the corridors leading to it covered. If he tries to free the others, they'll spot Veruca coming a mile away. The crew is also keeping an eye out for the guy, they've all been told enough to know what to do now."

Xander nodded as he made his way through the various passengers that had come to the lounge to watch the sunset. Harris had to admit that it was a nice sight, despite the bad weather, and he privately wished he had more time to enjoy it. However, the threat of a rampaging werewolf demanded one's attention, especially if you were the one in charge of stopping him.

"Guys, I've got him!" Fred said excitedly. "Xan, about twenty feet from you in a service corridor. I just saw him going in, he must be getting ready for the big event. From there, he can burst out on the passengers!"

"Which way?" Xander said

"Towards the stern." Xander looked around in confusion. "The rear of the ship!" Fred explained hurriedly.

Xander immediately started walking in that direction. "Oz, Jinan?"

"We're on our way," was Oz's reply.

Xander stepped around a pair of children playing as their parents took a picture of the setting sun. For a moment he was reminded of sixth grade in Sunnydale, when he and Willow had played like that, but he quickly shook it off. This was no time to think about the past.

Right now, the strategist within Xander's mind wasn't happy about the current circumstances. Technically, this wasn't the way an op should be run, with his forces split up and vulnerable. If Veruca had a hidden ace up his sleeve, Xander knew there might be trouble, as he didn't have any hidden within his.

"What do you intend to do?" Fred's voice said in Xander's ear.

"I intend to stop this guy from killing anyone, any way I can," Xander growled, slipping into his less pleasant mindset just a bit too easily.

Ship corridor. A few moments later

Xander cautiously pushed open the door and walked through. Once he was inside, he withdrew the Glock 9mm pistol he was carrying. He started making his way down the corridor even though all the lights were out, except for the few that stayed on all the time.

{This is stupid, damn it, no backup and the home ground advantage totally belongs to the enemy!} "Lights are off in here," was all that Xander said though.

"Some of the cameras are knocked out as well. He must not want to be disturbed," Fred said. "Be careful!"

"Oz, how far out are you?" Xander asked as he neared a corner

"Almost there-" was the reply from Oz.

Xander couldn't hear the rest, unfortunately, as he was suddenly drenched in a spray of foam. Veruca came around the corner, holding a fire extinguisher in his arms, shooting it towards Xander. Taken by surprise and cursing himself for all kinds of a fool, Harris slipped and fell as the foam blinded him, the pistol he had been carrying skittering across the floor as he did so.

Veruca ran forward and kicked Xander in the ribs. Xander grunted in pain and tried to roll away, sliding on the floor as he did so.

"Stay still, damn it!" Veruca shouted as his second kick missed.

"Well, stop trying to kick me!" Xander shouted back.

"I intend to feast on your bones, you asshole, me and the others!" Veruca threw the extinguisher, and Xander barely deflected it with his right arm. "Only a few more minutes, and the beast will be here!"

"Yeah, well, maybe it'll want to visit the zoo."

"I'll hunt!" Veruca snarled and kicked Xander again. Xander could hear Fred yelling in his earpiece and threw it aside, not needing the distraction right now.

"No. Not tonight."

Veruca fell as he was tackled by Oz running up from behind Xander. Both men fell to the floor and began to rassle as Jinan helped Xander to his feet. "You alright?"

Xander nodded and grunted in response to Jinan's question. "Glad you could make it."

"Well, the deck was so crowded, kids everywhere and all," Jinan said rather sardonically.

Harris didn't reply, frowning at the sight of Oz remaining human as he fought his adversary. The unwelcome thought ran through Xander's mind, {Why doesn't he just wolf out and end this, quick and clean?}

"It's an honor thing," Jinan replied, able to guess what Xander was thinking. "Despite being on opposite sides, they're both still brother lycanthropes. Oz can't just rip his throat out or something, you know."

Veruca was trying to push Oz away, but wasn't succeeding. "Get away from me!"

"No," was Oz's blunt reply.

Xander placed the radio receiver back in his ear. "Fred, how long?"

"A couple of minutes at most."

Xander struggled to his feet. "Oz, I hate to rush you, but we don't have much time here?"

"I know."

"How are we going to get him to the cargo hold?" Jinan asked.

"Ah, hell," Xander muttered, making a command decision. "Fred, we need to clear the passengers off from the nearby decks!"

"I'm on it," was the reply, and over the radio Xander could hear Fred moving around.

The loudspeakers suddenly sprang to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain cordially invites you to view the sunset off the port side of the ship. If you could please make your way there in an orderly manner, you will see a truly incredible sight." Fred said, her Texan accent standing out.

Xander could hear the low rumble of movement down the hallway. "Oz, you've got ten seconds to do it fairly. After that, take him down by cheating if you have to!"

Veruca pushed hard and Oz slammed into the wall. "I'll still hunt the human cattle aboard this ship, we all will. Whoever you are, you can't save them!"

"Kevin Veruca," Oz said as he punched Kevin so hard the other werewolf almost bounced off the wall. "The name's not a coincidence. So who was Veruca to you? Because I was there when your namesake died."

"I took her name to honor the one who bit me and taught me the hunt. She showed me the way to embrace the beast." A look of comprehension came over Veruca's face. "YOU! You're the traitor, the one who killed her. We will feast on your corpse-" He cocked his head and smiled. Kevin leaped forward and tackled Oz around the waist. "You're out of time."

"So are you."

Trying not to curse over Oz disregarding his orders - and wondering for a moment if this was how Cleburne felt, whenever things went wrong in a combat op - Xander and Jinan jumped back as the two fighters growled and started to change. Within a few seconds, there were two massive werewolves fighting in front of them.

"Look out!" Jinan cried out as the two werewolves struggled. One of the wolves grabbed the other one and started wrestling him towards the door. Xander and Jinan were knocked out of the way as the werewolves went past, Harris wanting to open fire with his pistol but unable to risk killing Oz. Human and demon exchanged glances and followed the lycanthropes.

The door splintered apart as the two wolves burst through it, a couple and their small child staring in shock as the two animals came out onto the deck. One of the wolves sniffed the air and turned towards them. It cocked its head to the side and, somehow, a grin could actually be seen on its large and furry snout.

The other wolf threw itself at the first wolf. The two wolves started tearing at each other again as Xander and Jinan came through the door.

"The civilians!" Xander said urgently to his companion.

Jinan hurried towards the passengers. "Come on, just head down the corridor, please move it along."

The parents didn't need Jinan's urging to start shepherding their child away from the fight and around the corner. She turned back to see the first werewolf leaping towards her, so Jinan reacted on impulse. She turned black and her hair seemed to turn into fire, as the Kaohsiung demon assumed her true native form.

"Whoa!" Xander shouted in surprise, instinctively aiming his Glock at the two creatures. {Now that's something new.}

The attacking wolf paused for a second and snarled. It paused and then jumped at Jinan. The second werewolf rammed into the side of the first werewolf first, though, as the two animals fell against the railing on the edge of the deck.

"OZ!" Both Xander and Jinan yelled as the two werewolves fought and then fell over the railing.

The two ran to the railing and looked down. There holding onto the railing was Oz, gradually changing back to human form. He reached up with his free hand and grabbed the hands being offered to him.

"Veruca?" Xander asked.

"Down there. I think," was the short answer as Oz was pulled up to the deck, still staring at the depths of the ocean.

"Come on, buddy, we attracted some unwelcome attention just now and we need to get you some clothes," Xander said as he ushered Oz and Jinan back into the depths of the ship. "I mean, I'm sure Captain Timmons has rules about public nakedness around here."

1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. The same time

Curiously, that was exactly how Dawn Summers was feeling right now; as if she was publicly naked, as Brother Feodor stared at her from the doorway with a combination of affection and concern.

It had freaked her out big-time, when the abbot of the Order of Dagon had shown up on her doorstep this morning. She hadn't known what to say, or if she should even say anything. But coming so quickly on the heels of the M'Fashnik demon's death, the monk had simply introduced himself and then left, saying that he would be back later on tonight when things had calmed down a bit. It was now later and the monk had come back, standing at their front door. Standing on the inside of the door were the Summers women and Giles.

"Ordinarily, I would ask permission to come inside. But after spending the past month or so in this town, I have learned better," the Czech monk said as he stood at the front door, which had been repaired by now.

Giles simply gestured, beckoning the holy man to come inside if he could. Brother Feodor nodded and entered the house, passing the vampire test. "Thank you, Mr. Giles."

"You know who I am," Rupert observed neutrally.

"Indeed I do," the monk said politely. He then turned to face Joyce. "Mrs. Summers, hello. I'm glad to see you're looking better than you did this morning."

"Err, thank you," Joyce said uncertainly. "And, uh, welcome to my home, Brother Feodor."

"Mind if I ask why exactly it is you're here?" Buffy said, unable to help herself.

"Buffy, please!" Joyce said with a stern look to her oldest daughter, chastising the Slayer for her manners.

"No, the question is not undeserved," Brother Feodor spoke up, hoping to forestall an argument. "And the simple answer is that I wished to say goodbye in person, before I returned to my Order in Europe. Over the past few weeks I have satisfied myself beyond all reasonable doubt that the Key is in good health and in good hands, and thus my task here is complete."

"Wait!" Dawn called out as she saw the abbot about to turn and leave. "Where are you going? I have, like, a million questions to ask - I mean, you can't just show up here for thirty seconds and then simply walk out the door like that!"

"What she said. See, we know you're one of those guys who sent Dawnie here, who made her human last year," Buffy stated, eyes narrow. "And personally, I've always wanted to know why you did that. I mean, I know that in the previous timeline you did it to save Dawn from that Glory thing who came looking for her, but here and now - why?"

"Because Xander Harris asked it of me."

Everyone was momentarily stunned, before all four Sunnydalians began to babble at high speed and loud volume. Brother Feodor held up both hands and asked patiently, "One at a time, please."

"You've met Xander? And, and you know where he is right now?" Buffy's voice spoke volumes of hope and excitement.

"Yes I have, and no, I do not," the monk replied gently, noting the look of intense disappointment on Buffy's face. "The Timetripper came to us over a year ago, and that was a day which I will long remember. Initially, I feared the worst - but then the man told me everything-"

"What did he say, exactly? Did he mention me?" Buffy interrupted excitedly.

"Yes, that he did. Xander Harris specifically chose you to be the Key's sister. When I asked him why not the other Slayer, he said," Brother Feodor paused for a moment, trying to recall the exact words. "He said, 'Never mind my issues with her; the point is she'll tell anyone who comes for Dawn to damn well go to hell. No matter if it's a hellgod, the Watchers Council or even the President of the United States'."

The reactions to this were many and various. Joyce looked concerned, Giles looked interested, Dawn looked happy, but Buffy felt a mix of both happiness and concern. Happy that Xander had decided to choose her for the role of the Key's sister, and concern that he'd had 'issues' back then. "Okay, why-"

"Wait a minute, Buffy, who put you in charge? This isn't a Slayer-only interrogation!" Dawn interrupted angrily. "The rest of us have some questions as well, y'know!"

Miss Summers somehow resisted the urge to tell her sister to be quiet as Joyce said, "This, this spell you did, the one where you somehow made my little girl human. I don't know how you did it, but I want your word that you'll never undo it - that you'll never meddle with our memories and make us forget Dawn, by reversing whatever it was you did last year. Agreed?"

"MOM!" Dawn exclaimed in shock.

"Of course," Brother Feodor nodded his head to Joyce, ignoring the brunette teenager's outburst. "My predecessors and I took care of the Key for centuries, but that time has obviously passed. Dawn is a human being now, and one of the first commandments of our faith is that we shall not knowingly harm another human soul."

{Oh my God, I really do have a soul?} Dawn asked herself in a daze, but her question was quickly forgotten in the face of Giles asking everything he had ever wanted to know about the Key but had never been able to find out. Including details of the spell which had not only created the memories, but everything else - including, as Xander had put it in the prior timeline, the Dawnmeister Chronicles.

"Amazing," Rupert shook his head after Brother Feodor finished his explanation. "It's absolutely amazing! Reality-alteration spells a-a-are always tricky, of course, but the level of detail here is just-"

"Yeah, yeah, very impressive, props to everyone involved and all that," Buffy cut in. "But I have a question."

"What is it?" the monk asked politely.

"Well, Xander wrote in one of his letters that you guys somehow used a part of me to create my little sister, I already knew that. But what I don't know is, what exactly did you do to make Dawn have some kind of mystical connection to him?" the Chosen One asked. "I mean twice now she's been badly injured, and she" Buffy gestured helplessly. "Dream-talked to Xander, I guess you could put it?"

"Ah, that," Brother Feodor nodded in understanding, even as Dawn leaned forward with a look of anticipation on her face. The holy man added, "Originally it was both a failsafe, and a natural consequence of the spell-"

"What do you mean, natural consequence?" Dawn interrupted before anyone else could.

"The Key could not be molded into human flesh using the Slayer alone, at least not without you looking like the mirror image of your sister; which is something Xander Harris informed me did not take place in the previous timeline," the abbot told her. "Therefore, an additional human template had to be used in order for you to look as you do now."

"Another 'template'?" Dawn asked in confusion, even as the others looked at each other in alarm.

"Indeed. I don't know who was chosen in that other world, but here in this one..."

"XANDER!?" Dawn yelped, instinctively guessing the truth.

"Indeed," Brother Feodor nodded his head as Buffy, Joyce and Giles almost looked ready to faint. "Not quite a brother, and not exactly a father, but roughly a combination of both - in terms of flesh, if not blood."

The Northern Explorer, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. October 9, 2001

Xander rubbed his eyes as the sunlight streamed into the office he and his team were sitting in. The group had taken turns throughout the night standing watch outside the cargo hold. The growling, snarling and attempts for the werewolves to break out had kept everyone on edge, even those who were catching a break. Around Xander, Oz and Jinan were resting.

Fred walked in. "Fletcher is on his way up, the ones in the hold have reverted back. We can hear them talking and moving around."

"Any word on Veruca?" Oz said.

Fred shook her head. "No, they've been looking all night. No sign of him, so the captain isn't happy about that. As a matter of fact, he isn't happy about anything this morning. Captain Timmons wants to know a lot more than we want to tell him."

"Guessing that would have been an awkward conversation," Oz said.

"Yeah, and coffee didn't make it any better." Fred sat down in the chair next to Oz. "He started grumbling about putting all of us in irons, unless we answered all his questions to his satisfaction. He was actually calling for the engineer to make some for him by the time I left."

"That can't be good. I *think* we might have overstayed our welcome around here," Xander mused. {Which is a pity, as I'd have liked to enjoy the rest of the cruise - no minders for once, just me hanging out with my friends.}

"Not to worry, I'd say Mother Hen has taken care of the situation."

Xander looked at Oz in surprise, the comment coming so quickly on the back of his thoughts of enjoying the cruise with his companions. "What?"

Oz nodded at the window and Xander looked outside. Close nearby, heading towards the cruise ship, was a Coast Guard cutter with a helicopter trailing behind it.

"Great. He couldn't have gotten them here last night?" Harris groaned.

The Coast Guard cutter, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. A while later

Jinan walked to where Xander was watching the teenagers being loaded into a Coast Guard helicopter under the watchful eyes of several guardsmen. She said, "That's the last of them. The Coast Guard has searched the cargo hold thoroughly, and there's no one left hiding there." She looked at the helicopter. "So, what's going to happen to them?"

Xander shook his head. "Not sure, really. I'm thinking we can't just turn them loose with a warning, I mean they *were* going to commit mass murder. They didn't actually do it, but they had been talked into doing it, so who's to say they won't be talked into it again?"

"Back home, that is not a problem, the government would lock them up as long as it deemed necessary. Here, I'm not so sure."

"Well, the good colonel was saying something about the Patriot Act. Among other things, I don't think he's happy about having to explain a lot of stuff to a lot of people. Actually he's covering up a lot of things, that's what is making him unhappy."

"How unhappy is your Colonel Cleburne about me?"

"The man did mention something about the Chinese Communist party and you being a member," Xander deadpanned.

Jinan laughed. "I think one of my uncles is a member, but other than that the family is apolitical."

The two of them were silent for a few moments. "So, you're a demon?" Xander finally broke the silence.

"And you're the Timetripper."

Xander blinked. "Okay, not exactly the response I was expecting. However, the question remains, you're a demon?"

"Always have been, Xander Harris. I knew Oz was moving in high circles nowadays, I just didn't realize just how high. You're big-time."

"Don't know why you'd say that."

Jinan chuckled. "Come on, demons? We talk to other demons. We have our own sources of information. Lots of times, we know things before someone even thinks of putting it on CNN. Heck, we know about stuff that never makes the papers or TV." Jinan took a deep breath. "We know all about you, the man from the future. A lot of things have been happening lately because of you."

"Well, don't make too much of it," Xander said rather morosely, he didn't like to be reminded of his unique situation.

"You really don't know, do you?"

Xander looked at Jinan. "What? I mean I know quite a bit, but I don't know what you're talking about."

Jinan looked at Xander. "That small town in Idaho, a few months ago? You stood up for those who were being shafted, set up to take the fall for something they didn't even do. A lot of nonviolent demons were impressed by that. Most people would just have got out the pitchforks and torches, but not you and yours. You've given hope to a lot of peaceful demons that they might be able to fit in someday."

Xander didn't know what to say. "Personally, I'd say you seem to be putting too much trust and hope in this fellow you're talking about."

"Maybe, but I know that Oz is a pretty good judge of character. That's good enough for me."

Xander was silent at that. After a few moments he spoke up, "So, what's the plan for you now?"

"Well, there are some teenagers back in Los Angeles who still need how to learn to control the beast within, including them - if I can pry them loose from the government." She nodded at the teenagers aboard the helicopter, which was now flying back towards the mainland.

"I might be able to help with that, I know some people. They owe me a few favors." Xander smiled. "And y'know, we could probably use someone who can shoot fireballs from out of the top of their heads."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Come on, I've not had breakfast yet, let's get something to eat," Jinan smirked as she led her human companion away.

TBC...