Part Fifty-Four
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. October 23, 2001
It was a typical 15-year-old girl's bedroom. A huge pile of stuffed animals on the bed, posters of 'NSync, Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys on the walls, and even a mobile of fish hanging from the ceiling. But the brunette sitting on the bed and staring at her diary was not a typical 15-year-old girl.
Dawn Summers was anything *but* your normal female teenager in southern California, as more than one person around here could have told you.
The young woman suddenly opened the book, and began to write.
Dear Diary,
Xander Harris is my dad?
It's been nearly two weeks since everyone learned the big news, and it's taken me at least this long to be able to wrap my head around it enough to put pen to paper.
Still - Xander Harris is my dad?
I mean yeah, I know that Hank Summers is my father according to the official records, and even if someone did a paternity test or whatever he's the one that'd come up positive as the sperm donor. And of course, mom is still mom. Before he went back to Europe, Brother Feodor said that DNA and any other medical tests will definitely show that Hank and Joyce Summers are my bio-parents.
But that doesn't change the fact that a part of me comes from a guy who I've never actually met in real life. Brother Feodor explained that he and the other monks used a part of Buffy and a part of Xander to create me over a year ago, which kinda makes *them* my parents.
Soul-wise, anyway, it's Buffy and Xander who qualify when it comes to defining good ol' mom and pop.
My annoying big sister as a mommy is bad enough for me to contemplate, already. But thinking of Xander as my daddy?
I mean, we're talking about the same guy who used to take me and Willow to the merry-go-round when I was 10 years old. The same guy who used to babysit me while he was dating Cordelia during junior year. The same guy who practically hated Buffy and those other two before he spent nearly five years in a hell dimension, and then hightailed it out of Sunnydale.
The same guy who I used to dream of one day getting married to...
Okay, I'm *more* than a little creeped out right now. Thinking about stuff like that just can't be healthy for you.
I guess I probably need to talk to a shrink about it. Of course, it'll be kinda hard to explain to the good doctor just what my problem is and how I ended up having it. Yeah, I can just imagine *that* conversation. "I used to be a big blob of energy in Eastern Europe, plus my sister is my mother and this guy who knows the future is my father." I'm pretty sure that it'd earn me a quick trip to the nearest loony bin, just like what happened with Buffy back when she was my age.
Well, actually, that might be a decent break from what's been happening at the house and at the Magic Box.
Everyone's started looking at me funny, after Anya said something about how Giles was robbing Peter to pay Paul where I was concerned - whatever that's supposed to mean. And at home, it's not much better. It's not quite as bad as when I first found out I was the Key, sure, but it's pretty darn close.
Plus Buffy isn't taking the thought of being a mother too well, if you want my opinion. Sure she doesn't say anything, but every once in a while you can tell she's *majorly* freaking out. The other day, I caught her muttering about a Slayer dream and me saying 'hands off my daddy'. She saw me staring before she just shook her head and wandered away. Typical Buffy!
'Course, she isn't physically a mother, just spiritually. My spiritual mother. Gak! Still, that doesn't mean she gets to tell me what time I have to be home by, that's mom's job. It's just, someone she thought was her sister is kinda sorta her daughter, and someone *I* thought was *my* sister is kinda sorta my mom.
Dawn paused for a second from her writing in her journal, and quickly re-read what she had just written.
"Oh yeah, I need some serious psychiatric help."
Capitol Hill, Washington D.C. October 24, 2001
"Mr. Director, you've told us here today that inside sources, electronic intelligence and analysis enabled the anticipation - well, *partial* anticipation - of the attacks on September 11th. However, one thing that has been lacking in your testimony so far is an answer with regard to the initial source of this information."
The Director of the CIA, George J. Tenet, shifted in his seat at the female Chairman's question. The committee hearing room was full of Congressmen and staffers, but no public. This hearing was in closed session, but even so, there were some secrets that should not be revealed.
That didn't stop the various Representatives and Senators of the joint committee from asking questions they shouldn't be asking, though.
"You must understand, Madam Chairman, that some of the information came from sources outside our normal sphere of influence. To clarify, some of it came from intelligence services beyond our direct control." This was actually true, as the CIA director didn't have any control over what Siberian Trip Wire did.
"Direct control?"
"Yes, Madam Chairman, there are many intelligence networks that keep track of the various terrorist organizations operating in the world today. A number of them are foreign agencies. Some of these intelligence services, while not directly allied to us, are nonetheless willing to share information acquired by their agents - at least, on occasion." Tenet hoped that this would be enough to satisfy the committee.
No such luck.
"Madam Chairman. If I may ask a question?" a smooth, patrician-looking Congressman spoke into his microphone.
"Of course, Representative Blim," the female chair of the committee, Senator Dianne Feinstein, gave her approval.
"Director Tenet, despite the uncertainty with regard to the identity of your sources, there had to be a catalyst which led to the discovery of al-Qaeda's plans, a Rosetta Stone if you will. Could you inform us please as to the source of this Rosetta Stone?"
"Representative Blim, all I can say is the initial Rosetta Stone came from a source that, for various reasons, does not desire to have their contribution acknowledged," Tenet stated rather stiffly.
"Well, surely you can give us a name - or at least a code name?" Nathan Blim riposted smoothly.
"The source is still active, Congressman. To reveal the source's identity here and now could endanger its effectiveness and safety," George replied obstinately.
Blim briefly looked exasperated. "I am an elected representative of the United States government, Director Tenet. I shouldn't need to remind you that I do have a security clearance, and have held one for years."
"I agree. All of us here are members of Congress. We have an official duty to provide oversight over the intelligence agencies of the United States of America, to ensure the people's wishes are being followed."
Blim nodded. "Thank you, Senator Brucker. Mr. Director, my esteemed colleague is absolutely correct; we have a right to know whatever information it is you're concealing from us."
"Madam Chairman. May I interject?"
Senator Feinstein turned at the comment. "You may, Senator Lugar."
"Mr. Director, would this source you've hinted at here today be helpful for information on future terrorist attacks?" the silver-haired man asked carefully.
"Yes, Senator. In my professional opinion, this source could and would be of great assistance in preventing future terrorist attacks."
"Do you believe that the effectiveness of your information source would be compromised or ended, if his or her identity should be made public?" Lugar then asked.
"Yes, Senator, that is a legitimate concern. According to my information, the agency overseeing the source has already fended off several attempts to eliminate it by assassination," the CIA director said forcefully.
"Then Madam Chairman, in the interests of national security - is there any reason to add to their troubles by risking the spread of the information?" Senator Lugar asked persuasively. "I would think that it's enough to know that this source is still in place, and will warn of any similar trouble to 9/11 in the future."
"This joint committee is in executive session," Blim spoke up, feeling the unwelcome winds of change starting to blow.
"Yes, but still; in the intelligence world the less people who know a secret, the less chance of a leak. Loose lips sink ships, so to speak," Senator Lugar replied. "Wouldn't you agree, Madam Chairman?"
Senator Feinstein stared at both Lugar and Blim before replying, "I've heard that saying before, yes. And sometimes, an old saying still has a ring of truth to it." She turned back to the CIA director and said, "Very well, Mr. Tenet, I'd say that we can do without that particular piece of information at the present time. However, I think we do need to know what actions that this as-yet-unidentified agency you've mentioned is planning to undertake, with the information gleaned from your anonymous source."
"I understand, Madam Chairman, and that's why my aides are now handing out a memorandum with some proposed operations to deal with the terrorist threat." As the CIA Director spoke Blim and Brucker exchanged an annoyed look.
In the back of the hearing room, the eagle eyes of Esther Marcum noted that look carefully.
Bethesda Navy Hospital, Maryland. The same time
Dr. Bert Chalmers made a notation on the chart in front of him, writing up how the surgery had gone that morning. A knock on the door caused him to look up. A dark-haired young woman and a shorter, red-haired young man were standing there.
"Dr. Chalmers?" the woman asked with a Texan accent.
"Yes, can I help you?"
"I hope so. We have a mutual friend."
"And that friend would be-?"
This time, the man answered him. "Joyce Summers."
Chalmers exhaled loudly. "You know, I actually used to have a normal life once."
"We all did at one time, I guess," Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne said sagely.
"So what does Mrs. Summers want this time?" Bert put down his chart.
"Actually, she didn't send us. Another friend sent us. He knows Mrs. Summers too. You've not met him yet," Fred said.
Chalmers thought for a moment. "A certain name does come to mind."
"A name best not spoken out loud," Oz said, deadpan.
"Tell me about it! The last time I heard it, I caught no end of grief from Josh," Chalmers complained.
"Josh?" Fred asked.
"Mother Hen," Oz explained.
"His name is Josh?" the Burkle woman asked in confusion.
"It's what I call him, it's actually short for Joshua. However, enough about that - look, what brings you two here today?" Chalmers said.
"Cleburne doesn't know we're here, just so it's clear, and right now we'd like to keep it that way." Oz closed the door behind him.
"Putting one over on him, are you?" Chalmers smiled, he knew what the odds were of *that* succeeding.
"Well, we prefer seeing it as not wanting to burden him with too much information," Fred said.
"Okay, is this information he needs?"
"No, he doesn't need it," Oz said with finality.
Chalmers suppressed another sigh. "Very well, so once again - what brings you here?"
"Sunnydale. There's a patient there who needs your help."
"Mrs. Summers? Last I heard, she was alright," Bert frowned.
Fred shook her head, recalling the precise words Xander had said. "No, her name's Cassie Newton. She's a teenage girl whose family has a major history of bad heart problems."
Siberian Trip Wire Conference Center, Washington D.C. October 26, 2001
"So. Blim is determined to find out the source of the tip-off for 9/11, if he hasn't already," Cleburne said.
"He was certainly persistent in his questioning of Director Tenet. Even after Senator Lugar headed him off, Blim tried again later," Esther Marcum said.
"You think he knows about the kid?"
Irving Hollins, better known in some circles as the Wizard, answered, "At the very least, the Congressman knows there is more to the story than has been revealed."
The three of them stared at each other around the table. "What I want to know is, why would Blim care? I mean yeah, he is a bottom-feeding politician who comes from old money, but this is something that he can't exactly get any press coverage out of. I mean, the media would laugh him out of public office if he started talking about psychic time travelers," Cleburne noted.
"Perhaps he's laying the groundwork for something like that, a bit further down the road," Esther speculated.
"Long-term planning? That's not their style."
"Colonel Cleburne is correct, the Blim's are not noted for taking the long view; at least with regard to the most recent generations," Hollins said. "Apart from what comes with owning half the eastern seaboard, most of the time the family is obsessed with the upcoming election cycle. Which begs the question, what political benefit would the Congressman get from pursuing this particular investigation?"
"Well, I can't see any. Somehow, I don't think the voters will be too upset with the source that allowed us to stop the hijackers." Cleburne shrugged. "Maybe he wants to blame us for the car bombs?"
"How would he do that?" Marcum asked. "I think al-Qaeda was quite clear on their publicly accepting responsibility for that."
"Since when do the Blim's care about making sense, with them it's all about hot air and headlines," Cleburne said grumpily. "I don't know why people think that family is the closest thing this country has to royalty, I swear I don't!"
"Most likely the Blim's don't care who the source is, at least not per se," Hollins looked at the others in the conference room. "I suspect someone else does, though, and has enlisted Representative Blim to find out who it is."
"Brucker?" Esther knew from her contacts how that female senator had big plans for the future, maybe even reaching the highest political office by 2008 or 2012.
Hollins shook his head at Marcum's question. "No, I think there's someone else who is playing this game."
The headquarters for the Circle of the Black Thorn, West Los Angeles, California. October 27, 2001
Senator Helen Brucker sat in the darkened room. The shadows moved, but that did not appear to disturb her too much.
"Well?" one of the shadows demanded.
"They're hiding something," the female demon hiding inside a human body said simply.
"I see that putting you inside that body has made you quite the genius," was the sarcastic reply. "We know that, we want to find out what. They were too lucky in heading off the attacks. They had help."
"There is the possibility that it may have been exactly what they're hinting it was, a spy within al-Qaeda being run by the Israelis that they don't want to endanger," Helen smirked.
"No, we have reason to believe it was supernatural in nature." Actually, they had reason to believe it was the Timetripper. "How can you find out?"
"Follow the money. I'm on the budget committee; whoever is hiding the secret, they have to be getting their funding from somewhere. Endanger that funding, and someone in Washington will talk eventually."
"Very well. But be warned; Bathory will not accept failure." The shadows receded.
"Yes, I know she won't," Brucker said to the empty room; the very same place within which Angel would have one day signed away his shanshu. "And if I have to, I can arrange for the Blim's to find that out personally."
The Blim estate, Los Angeles, California. October 28, 2001
"Sir?"
Nathan Blim looked up from his desk in his spacious office. "What is it?"
The junior aide hesitantly walked into the office. "I've been looking over the budgets for some of the various agencies you ordered me to investigate, trying to get a lead on that information you're interested in."
Blim nodded. "Go on."
"Well, it's not quite what I believe you're looking for, but I did find some...discrepancies."
"Discrepancies, what do you mean?" the Congressman demanded.
"Well, sir, I was looking at the budget for military special operations and intelligence. There were some odd expenditures." The aide walked in and placed a file on the desk, opening it as he did. "It's all here in their payroll section."
Blim didn't have time to wade through a big pile of paper; that was what the little people were for. "Are we overpaying them? I know the Pentagon has a problem with fraud, has done for a long time."
The aide shook his head. "Sir, what I found was that there seems to be periods where small groups of soldiers get hazardous duty pay, the type associated with combat."
Representative Blim looked at his aide, very annoyed. "Soldiers get shot at, that qualifies as hazardous duty!"
"I know, sir, but these soldiers are listed as being deployed here in the United States. The payments also go back several years. Well before the terrorist attacks."
The Congressman shrugged. "The Balkans, peacekeeping operations have been going on there for several years now."
The aide shook his head. "I thought of that, sir, but the thing is - those deployments aren't hidden. These ones, however, are not part of the public record. Why bother to hide something you're already publicly acknowledging?"
Nathan frowned, his instincts were telling him something was up but he decided to keep playing devil's advocate for now. "Well, it is the military, sometimes it's secret purely for secrecy's sake."
"There's more, sir." Blim nodded and the aide continued on, "Some of the soldiers who've received hazardous duty pay also show up on medical records as being wounded. So far, I've found two of them listed as being killed in the line of duty. The official record says it was due to training accidents, but the records I've been able to access thanks to a friend of a friend make it look more like being killed in combat. Although, I have to admit, parts of the classified records were weird."
"Weird in what way?"
"Well, getting killed with what forensics would describe as a stab wound with twin holes in the neck - such wounds simply don't match up with modern combat injuries."
Blim nodded, he knew a lot more than his aide did thanks to the demon part of the family; for example, his nephew Billy. "Anything else with regard to this nugget of information?"
"Well, sir, one thing that popped up was a reference to 'Siberians', a one-line sentence that also involved the acronym STW. Maybe, uh, there's something going on with the Russians?"
Nathan Blim brushed that aside. "What else do you know about these wounds, how about where they were treated? Would that help tell us where these men were injured?"
The aide thought for a second. "It's possible, sir. I'll have to do some follow-up digging through the medical records."
Blim nodded. "Do it."
The aide knew a dismissal from Blim when he heard one. Thus, he quickly hurried out of the room.
Nathan Blim picked up a pen and made a note to ask what the aide had found later on. He had a suspicion that it was something that Brucker might find interesting. Even if that didn't work out, maybe Wolfram & Hart might be interested. He owed them a favor for their recent actions regarding Billy, after all.
Elsewhere in Los Angeles, California. The same time
"Honey, I think it's a bad idea. Why don't we just go with my plan instead?"
The speaker was the redheaded naval officer known as Commander Michael Byrne, who had long ago been nicknamed 'Red' by Cleburne. The green-skinned demon waitress known as Ametila fixed her fiancé with a fierce glare, "Mike, I am not going to some wedding chapel in the mountains in order to elope with you! Just be thankful you didn't mention Las Vegas, or you would be sleeping on the couch tonight - and it's a *lumpy* couch!"
The two were in the living room of Ametila's apartment. Red cringed on the inside, he'd known this was going to be difficult and so far, it was all living up to his worst fears.
"Honey, I'm not saying we elope or anything like that. I'm just saying that it might be a good idea not to plan a big fancy wedding with hundreds of people we don't even know or like! Maybe something intimate, just a few friends."
Ametila continued glaring at Red. She was no fool, and so the waitress said, "This is about your mother, isn't it?"
"Sweetheart."
Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me! For months now, you've been avoiding the subject of me meeting your mother." Ametila folded her arms. "Hell, I've noticed that I've yet to meet *any* of your family."
Red's stomach tightened. "Well, none of them are here on the West Coast, uh, they all live in Boston."
"And planes from Boston can't fly here? The other night, did *you* drive all the way to LA from the East Coast?" Ametila glared at him.
"Dear, I've not seen my parents for months."
"But you've talked to them, right?" Ametila demanded.
Red nodded. "A few times and before you ask, yes, I have told them all about you."
"Well, good, now if you told me about them."
Red shook his head. "Sweetie, my mother is - well, she's different. She doesn't know about the demon thing, only that I'm engaged to a waitress." Hurriedly in response to the volcanic look on his fiancée's face, Byrne added, "Besides, I've yet to meet your parents!"
"Well, Dad is in town for the weekend so you can meet him." Ametila smiled sweetly.
Red wasn't fooled by the pleasant exterior for an instant. "Damn, I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"Yes, but you were almost adorable doing it. Now, be on your best behavior, okay? Dad, he, uh, he doesn't care for humans that much. He says I can do better."
Byrne exhaled noisily. "Well, at least he knows humans exist. Like I said, my mom is still totally unaware of demons."
"Well, she's going to be my mother-in-law. She's just going to have to get used to it." Ametila calmed down and crossed her arms.
Red smiled, there was the fierceness that he had seen in Ametila the first time they'd met. "She will and if she doesn't, well - she'll just miss out on a lot of time with her grandkids."
Ametila smiled at that and moved into Red's arms. "Grandkids? Lots of them? I like the sound of that."
"You know, I come from a large family." Red smiled and kissed Ametila on the forehead.
"So do I," Ametila kissed him back. "Twenty brothers and sisters."
Red raised an eyebrow. "Okay, in comparison maybe five children isn't that large. Still, if we're going to have that large a family we probably need to get started soon."
"Like tonight?"
"Well, we could call it practice."
"Practice makes perfect." Ametila kissed Red and stroked his hair.
"Like you need that much practice," Red replied when the kiss stopped.
"I still want to meet your mother."
{Uggggh. My ass is *so* doomed, } Red thought to himself as they continued to smooch passionately.
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Sunnydale, California. Later that day
Cassie Newton fidgeted as she sat on the examining table. She should have been nervous, but she wasn't. Most teenage girls would be nervous when called in for a doctor's appointment that they had not scheduled.
However, these days she wasn't like most teenage girls. Unlike in a world where Siberian Trip Wire had had no involvement with Sunnydale, her psychic gift had bloomed early and Miss Newton now knew a lot of things she otherwise wouldn't have.
The door opened up and a doctor walked in.
"Cassie, hi, my name is Dr. Chalmers and I've been looking at your chart. I'm afraid I have some bad news, and some not so bad news," Bert said in his calm, reassuring doctor voice.
"Don't worry, Dr. Chalmers, I know the heart valve is easily fixable with the surgery you're about to suggest to me."
Bert Chalmers looked at Cassie for a few moments and then sighed. "A normal trip to Sunnydale to treat a patient, that's all I wanted. I swear, I will never get used to this town!"
Cassie smiled at the doctor. "Oh, yes, you will."
Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles, California. October 29, 2001
"This doesn't make any sense. Why would I get a vision of something that happened last week? That woman Charlene Baird, she's already dead!"
Cordelia poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Gwen. Cordy then poured herself one as Wesley turned on the VHS machine, he had acquired footage from the convenience store's video surveillance camera when Mr. Baird had killed his wife. Pryce knew that this one was strange, even by their agency's standards; the old couple had been happily married for thirty years, before the husband had gone berserk and killed the woman he loved.
"I don't know why the Powers decided to send that vision at this point in time, Cordelia. Normally, the visions occur in such a way to give us a chance to save lives. Life has already been lost here," Wesley said sadly.
"What, then the mailman was running late?" Cordy asked. "They're worse than the post office! I mean a week late, come on."
"Well, I don't see why they had to send it to us in stereo. There was no need for us both to get the vision." Gwen took a sip from the coffee.
"Well, uh, the visions are always intended to prevent a loss of life. In this case, perhaps it may have been sent to both of you to prevent an even greater loss of life." Wesley placed the VHS tape into the machine and pressed Play. "Perhaps the surveillance tape will shed some light on the question."
The three of them watched the video for a few minutes. Wesley and Cordy cringed as the beating was played out. "That's savage," Cordy muttered.
"Yes. The fury is remarkable, particularly in public," Wes said clinically, eyes narrowed. He then rewound the tape to a few minutes previously.
"Men can be pigs," Gwen said, recalling some nasty incidents during her childhood as she watched Mr. Baird start to argue with his wife.
"Yeah, one in particular." Cordy pointed at the screen where a man was present in the background. "Billy Blim."
Outside the residence of Lilah Morgan, Los Angeles, California. A few hours later
A lot had happened ever since the three members of Angel Investigations had watched the videotape of Billy Blim inciting a man to commit murder.
Angel had gone to confront Lilah about it, but he'd been stunned to find her black and blue within her apartment; the victim of a savage beating from her co-worker Gavin Park. The male attorney had been talking with the part-demon guy in Lilah's office before Representative Blim had shown up to collect him, and afterwards Billy had smiled as he'd walked along with his uncle hearing the sounds coming from Lilah's office.
Angel had then decided to go to the source, and confront Billy himself. After a rather nasty conversation at the estate, the cops had shown up - but not to arrest Angel for trespassing, rather to arrest Billy on suspicion of murder. All thanks to a tip he had phoned in, as part of Billy's master plan to get out of the palatial twelve million dollar compound he was being held within against his will.
As an added bonus, the two cops who had arrested him? The male had tried to shoot and kill the female, thanks to Billy touching him when he'd been handcuffed, and now the evil misogynist was loose on the streets.
The staff of Angel Investigations, apart from Darla who was now eight months pregnant, had spread out in order to find Billy. Cordelia had decided on a different route to the others, though: she had come to Lilah's apartment in order to talk to her, and get information direct from the evil lawyers.
Miss Chase knocked on the door. {Come on, open up!}
Lilah did so. She then said with a smirk, "Well, this is unexpected. Cordelia Chase, right?"
"Yeah. Are you gonna invite me in? Oh, wait. I'm not a vampire." With that, the former cheerleader walked into the apartment.
"Please, come on in," Lilah said sardonically as she closed the front door and turned to face her 'guest'. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I want you to tell me about Billy. Everything you *didn't* tell Angel. I want you to help me stop him," Cordelia said fiercely.
"And what makes you think I'm gonna do that?" Lilah asked, the smirk never leaving her face.
Cordy gestured, "Well, there's your face - for starters."
Lilah picked up her drink, easily ignoring the fact that the bruises from Gavin's assault and battery told a very vivid story. "I know the risks of my job and I accept them."
"Then why were you crying five minutes ago?" There was a pause, as the two women stared at one another. Cordelia added, "Lady, there isn't a thing about badly reapplied mascara that I don't know about!"
Lilah put down her drink and told her, "I'm not Lindsey MacDonald; I don't run off or switch sides whenever it gets tough. And since when is this your job? I thought Angel was the Dark Avenger who showed up to threaten the people from my firm."
Cordy shook her head. "He doesn't know I'm here. And for the record? Angel feels responsible for everything this guy has done lately, because he let him out from that burning fire-cage or whatever. I feel responsible because Angel did it to save my life. You, who are actually responsible for the entire thing, feel nothing at all - because *you* are a vicious bitch."
Lilah shrugged. "So? You know me."
"Please, I was you - with better shoes!" Cordelia gestured.
"These are Boracchi," Lilah held up her foot a little.
"Fall collection?"
"Next spring."
"He's widened the heel."
"And rounded the toe."
"That won't work with pink."
"The pink is out this spring."
"Billy Blim makes people crazy," Cordelia suddenly cut out the idle banter, and got back to why she was here.
"Not all people. Just men. He brings out a primordial misogyny in them, turns them into killers. Kind of like Xander Harris, if you want my opinion," Lilah shot back.
"What would you know about Xander?" Cordelia was suddenly thrown-off balance a little.
Lilah smiled, a sublime and evil smile if there ever was one. "I know his parents, I've met them - unfortunately. I've met him too, the Harris project was my baby right from the start. You know, your ex-boyfriend may have had a 'white knight' mentality in coming to LA to save the soul of his lady love, the dearly departed Faith, but his methods - trying to choke me to death, stabbing Lindsey in his fake plastic hand? Well, let's just say I'm sure that Harris is no longer that boy who used to follow the Sunnydale Slayer around like a lovesick puppy, before getting you all hot and bothered inside those high school utility closets."
Cordelia stepped back, eyes wide. "How did you?"
"The same way I know that *you* would have been kidnapped and held for ransom in order for Harris to turn himself in, if anyone had thought it was worthwhile doing so," Lilah grinned. "My sympathies regarding your boyfriend who died recently, by the way - what was his name? Chuck something or other?"
"Shut up about that," Cordelia hissed at the female lawyer, she did not want to discuss her deceased significant other.
"It's just that I couldn't help noticing you two split up just after 9/11, when Harris made his rather spectacular debut on national television," Lilah continued on relentlessly. "Did you know that the office betting pool at my firm is giving two to one odds that you dumped Chuck what's-his-name, because you suddenly learned that your high school sweetheart was still alive and kicking? Personally I don't believe that, but I know quite a few people who do. Why settle for a street sweeper when you have a chance for snagging Donald Trump, and all that."
"I told you to shut up about that! Now where do I find Billy Blim?" Cordelia growled at the older woman, trying not to let Lilah's taunts get under her skin but not succeeding very well.
"Sorry, sweetie, can't help you. And even if I did, you couldn't touch him. I mean, Congressman Nathan Blim's nephew? You're way out of your league on this one, Vision Girl," Miss Morgan sneered at her. "Now why don't you go back to Angel's hotel, and practice your lines in the mirror for when you meet Harris again one day? Despite that face and body he's not going to simply jump into bed with you, you know, at least not just like that - not with your past history, anyway."
Furious and goaded beyond tolerance, Cordelia bitch-slapped Lilah and slammed the door on her way out, her head full of violent fantasies concerning what she would do one day to the female senior associate of the firm.
"Oh yeah, I still got it," Lilah smirked to herself, feeling a whole lot better ever since Gavin had almost killed her.
The residence of Dylan Blim, Los Angeles, California. Later that night
The hip little get-together was in full swing, as the lyrics of the song were heard: "...the future is coming on, coming on - finally someone let me out of my cage..."
Dylan Blim paid no attention to the music, though. The son of Nathan Blim was enjoying playing pool, while his party guests were having fun. Two people, a man and a woman were on the couch kissing passionately in the tastefully-furnished suite, which was merely one of Dylan's little West Coast hideaways. But Dylan paid no attention to the semi-mating activity either; he was determined to sink his ball into the corner pocket.
One of the guests walked over to Dylan and his opponent. "Hey, Dylan, your cousin is here."
Blim paid little attention, as he lined up his next shot. "Which one? I got about a zillion of them."
The guy shrugged. "I think he said his name is Billy."
As he made the shot, Dylan said, "Billy? Not possible. Billy's..."
"Hi, Dylan."
Dylan Blim instantly moved backwards, he knew the family rules regarding his part-demon cousin. Namely, never leave him alone with your girlfriend, keep him away from your pets and don't *ever* let him touch you. "Billy?"
"I didn't know you were having a party, cuz." Billy looked around. "A-list crowd. But then, what else should I expect from the future Congressman?"
Dylan visibly swallowed. "Billy, I-I thought we agreed that you weren't going to come around here anymore. Y'know, after that last thing."
Billy paid no attention to that. The misogynist was eyeing the kissing couple on the couch as he said, "I think we should talk to them about appropriate public behavior. Do you want to do it? Or should I oblige?"
Dylan instantly grabbed his pool partner. "Get 'em to knock it off. Now." He then shoved the guy towards the duo that was making out.
Billy smiled as he turned back towards his cousin. "Dylan, I have a bit of a problem."
"You need money?"
"Cousin, you know me so well," Billy smiled a truly satanic smile this time. "But before I fly out on the family plane to Tahiti, I'm thinking of having a bit of fun in this city - so I need a bit more than the usual amount."
Desperate to get rid of his relative, Dylan put the money on the table and backed away. He thought to himself, {I hope that's enough.}
"It'll do," Billy nodded, as if he'd read his cousin's mind. "See you around, Dylan."
{I sure as hell hope not.} Dylan Blim thought to himself in relief as Billy quickly departed the party.
Caritas Karaoke bar, Los Angeles, California. A while later
"Your father is deeply grieved, for you have brought shame upon the imperial family name!"
Ametila rolled her eyes at Lurvack's comment. The grand vizier of her royal father nonetheless continued, "It is bad enough that you came to this place and became a, a serving wench. But to consort with humans, on top of that? To think - you, a princess of the realm, actually lowering yourself to waiting upon drunken buffoons. And *human* drunks as well!"
Behind the vizier stood two of his subordinate warriors, they were trying to not appear nervous but they weren't succeeding very well. Ignoring them, the tall grayish-green vizier folded his arms as Ametila walked around the table placing the drinks in front of the patrons.
The waitress got to where he was standing. She looked at the massive demon for a few seconds, and a glare appeared on her face. For a moment Lurvack held her gaze, until without saying anything he took a step back and she finished placing the drinks on the table.
"Lurvack, I've had this conversation with Dad, Mom, Dad's counselors and *you* more times than I can count. So I'm telling you for the last time, I am not going to just sit at home in the family keep until Dad sets up some kind of arranged marriage for me for his political gain, I am *not* something to be bartered and then shown off like an expensive toy!" Ametila growled.
The vizier tried to be patient with her, but his patience was wearing thin. "You are the elder princess, the second in line for succession to the throne. You have obligations and duties."
"I have an older brother who has been trained since birth to lead our people, not to mention him being very eager to do so. I also have a life which I intend to enjoy!"
Lurvack bit back his initial response to Ametila's retort. "And the human, this human warrior you are infatuated with." He snorted, "A human warrior, now there's a term that's ridiculous if I ever heard one."
Ametila smiled as she cut him off, "Mike is quite the warrior in every sense of the word, Lurvack, believe me - I should know."
Lurvack suppressed a shudder, easily able to get the innuendo. "But you're of royal blood!"
"And you're my father's lackey, if you insist on getting technical about it," Ametila said as she walked back to the bar.
Lurvack followed her, cursing the edict that forbade him to simply grab her by the arm and drag Ametila home. "Perhaps I should mention your father wants to meet you and this human. If I cannot dissuade you from this insane course of action, then I'm sure you will not insult the King directly to his face that way!"
Ametila rolled her eyes as she put another round of drinks on the tray. "Okay, so when exactly does Dad want to meet my future husband?"
"Oh, sorry about that!"
Feeling ill from Ametila's last statement, Lurvack frowned at the dark-haired man who had just bumped into him. "I will accept your apology this time, human - but watch where you're going in the future."
"Right. Please excuse me, no offence meant," Billy Blim said with an enigmatic smile as he walked off. {I don't think I ever tried it with this kind of demon before. Oh yeah, this should be...interesting.}
Chinatown, Los Angeles, California. Later that evening
Michael "Red" Byrne whistled as he walked down the street towards Caritas. Then he frowned when he saw a crowd of people around the entrance. Several people were fleeing down the street away from the club, thus he increased his pace immediately.
There was a large grayish-green demon waving his arms and shouting. He recognized the demon as one of Ametila's people. Red could make out ranting about something concerning humans. He then saw two figures laying on the ground in front of the shouting demon. { Not good. Not good! }
Red spotted one of the people on the ground, and saw that she was green-skinned and bleeding. Another of her people was standing over her, a sword in his hand, trying to defend her against attack. However, he failed as the larger demon swung at him and beat him down. The warrior dropped the sword and fell to the ground, bleeding heavily.
Red had already started running by this point. Hearing the noise, the grand vizier looked up and saw him approaching.
"A human," Lurvack growled, a psychotic look in his eyes. "That royal harlot has dishonored her bloodline by cavorting with the likes of you!"
Red didn't say anything as he approached Ametila, so Lurvack roared incoherently and swung at the STW operative. Red easily slid under the punch and kicked the demon's left knee, hard. He heard a crack and Lurvack grimaced.
But it didn't slow him down, as Lurvack kicked out with the other leg, getting in a glancing blow as Red rolled away. "Human, you cannot escape me or my wrath! I shall wipe the stain of your pollution from the royal line, if it is the last thing I ever do!" He turned, reached down and grabbed the sword that had been dropped by the other warrior.
He turned back around and saw the ground was empty where Red had been a few seconds ago. "Human!" Lurvack growled as he looked around.
"Demon," was Red's response as he suddenly appeared to Lurvack's left and hit his abdomen, hard. The sword came around in response and he leaned back, avoiding it.
Lurvack lashed out with his left leg and hit Red in the side. Red grunted in pain and fell back. Lurvack sought to press the advantage, but Red rolled to the left and jumped to his feet. The demon went to repeat the attack on Red's other side, but Red grabbed the leg and held on tight.
"Not this time."
Red swept his leg out and knocked the demon's right leg out from under him. Lurvack fell to the ground and the sword clattered next to him. Red grabbed it quickly and raised it up.
"You hurt her," Michael Byrne said calmly as he rammed the sword down through Lurvack's throat. "No one does that to my Ametila and lives."
He easily ignored all the demon blood gushing out onto the sidewalk, even though the gathered crowd didn't. Red then turned to other demon warrior, who was getting to his feet. "What happened?"
The warrior demon looked down at his dead commander; technically, he was honor-bound to avenge Lurvack's death immediately. But since the vizier had committed one of the most heinous crimes imaginable - actually daring to lay hands on the princess of the realm - then the circumstances were such that he could exercise a bit of discretion right now. If it became necessary to kill this human later, fine; but right now, it was time to talk and not fight.
Thus the green demon warrior said, "It was all due to a human, I think - I noticed how he touched many males in there, human and demon both, and soon enough they all seemed to take leave of their senses. They started attacking any female in sight, even if they could not cause any harm within that establishment. Then Lurvack,"
The demon paused. "He dragged Princess Ametila out of there, and then he - he, he actually attacked her. I saw it in his eyes; the madness had swallowed him whole! Lurvack betrayed all of the oaths he had ever taken - truly, this will become known as a black day in the history of the kingdom. And my comrade and I could do nothing to stop it."
"It wasn't your fault. Technically, it wasn't even his fault if I'm reading you right," Byrne gestured to Lurvack's body, letting go of the anger. "That human guy you mentioned, I think we need to have a 'conversation' with him. Any idea which way he went?"
"No," the demon servant said, shaking his head. "There was too much confusion, and both my comrade and I were too busy trying to stop Lurvack at the time."
"Damn." Red looked around at the crowd of onlookers. "Any of you people happen to know anything?"
One of the demon patrons spoke up, "The man who went around touching everybody inside Caritas? I saw him earlier today, leaving Wolfram & Hart."
Ametila started moaning, as Red got down on his knees and stroked her forehead. Not far away, the demon servant tried to rouse his fallen comrade.
Red then looked up. "Wolfram & Hart, huh? I should have guessed," he said with a scowl.
The residence of Lilah Morgan, Los Angeles, California. Not long afterwards
Lilah leaned back on the couch and took another sip of her drink, as the light of the sole lamp which was on streamed out all over the living room. She was moderately drunk, as the pleasure of taunting Cordelia only went so far and the alcohol helped dull the pain.
The light suddenly went out, and the room was plunged into darkness.
"What the-?" Lilah started to get up when the phone rang.
"Answer it," a rough, gravelly voice said in the dark.
Lilah hesitated for a second and then picked up the phone. "Hello?" she said cautiously.
"You have an unexpected visitor. You will tell him all that you know concerning the one whose touch causes human males to attack their females. Disobey me, and your visitor will kill you very, very slowly," a voice she recognized said over the phone, and Lilah quickly felt her stomach drop.
Private airstrip, Santa Monica, California. Twenty minutes later
Cordelia held the crossbow steady, aimed at Billy Blim's heart. "You're not getting on that plane, you misogynistic piece of crap." A private plane was nearby with the jet engine warming up.
Blim smirked at Cordelia. "You think I hate you because you're a woman? I don't."
Cordy snorted, "Gee, and I was feeling so special."
Billy went on, "See, I don't hate women. I mean, sure, you're all whores who sell yourselves for money and prestige, but men are just as bad. Maybe even worse. They're willing to throw away careers or families, or even lives for what's underneath your skirt!"
Cordy raised her crossbow a bit higher. "I'm wearing pants, in case you didn't notice."
"So, what, you like to dress like a man, talk like a man?" Billy smiled his satanic smile again. "Does that make you feel superior?"
"Actually, I'm feeling superior because I have an arrow pointed straight at your jugular." Cordelia did the big dramatic pause thing. "And the irony of using a phallic-shaped weapon here? Not exactly lost on me."
Billy shook his head, looking completely unconcerned. There was even a faint smirk on his face. "You don't have the nerve to do it. I mean seriously, what's a woman like you going to do to a man like me?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Then I'll just reach out and touch someone, or get in touch with my inner child or whatever. Maybe that'll do it for me." Blim was still smirking.
"How about I touch you instead?"
Blim turned around and was punched in the face by Angel, who had snuck up behind him. Billy then wiped his lip clean of the blood and smiled. He knew that Angel was already infected, that one contact had been sufficient. Now, all that was necessary was to keep the mark busy until the mojo took effect.
"You'll do." Billy punched Angel right back.
Angel shrugged off the punch. "That's not going to be enough." Another punch was the response.
Angel and Blim quickly found themselves in a pitched fight. Cordelia kept trying to keep her aim steady on the part-demon guy, but found it impossible to do so. The fight thus went on for several minutes.
Blim looked at Angel, who was now in vamp face. {Huh, I've never done it to a vampire before. Maybe something's different about 'em? } "All that rage bubbling to the surface, pal. Shouldn't you be seeing to her needs by now?" He nodded towards Cordelia.
"Sorry, not interested. Cordelia's a friend." Angel punched Blim hard in the face, making him stagger back.
{Damn! Lousy vampires, can't do anything right.} "Games, I like games. I definitely plan on playing some when I get to the island. But see, funny thing is I don't want you to slow me down." So saying, Billy rushed Angel and grabbed him. He then shoved Angel hard and he fell back upon Cordelia, blocking her shot.
Blim took advantage of the situation and ran towards the plane. It looked like he was going to get on board and get away, scot-free.
But then a gunshot rang out into the night, and a red blotch appeared on Blim's throat.
He staggered for a second, his eyes growing wide. He then gurgled, falling to his knees. Billy focused in on the location of the shot, seeing Red standing between him and the plane. The Navy veteran was holding a pistol in his right hand, and Lilah was standing behind him.
"You were responsible for hurting my fiancée. You don't do that without getting to meet me. You're not enjoying this meeting," Byrne said to the dying Billy.
Blim tried to say something, but nothing coherent was able to come out of his mouth. Billy then pitched forward onto his face, and finally died.
"Okay, I didn't see that coming," Cordelia said cautiously as she lowered the crossbow, but only slightly.
Red walked up slowly to Blim's body, being careful not to get too close. Lilah, looking conflicted, didn't move from where she was standing. Angel and Cordelia exchanged a glance.
After a few seconds, when Red was satisfied that Blim was dead, he took out a cell phone and punched in a number. "Yeah, it's me. I've got a biohazard that needs to be disposed of, Santa Monica airport - very contagious. Yeah, very, it spreads by touch. There's a fair amount of blood too, so you better get the bio-suits out from the storage lockers." He listened for a little bit. "Yeah, I'll secure the scene until you get here."
Red hung up the phone and holstered the pistol he had used to kill Blim. He looked at Angel; and luckily, he knew exactly who this particular vampire was. "You okay?"
Angel nodded, going back to his human face. "Yeah. I mean, you don't need to worry about me going all homicidal anytime soon - that thing he could do to drive men into a mindless rage, it had no power over me."
Red nodded. "Good, but you and her, you need to get out of here. A lot of people are going to be arriving soon, and it'd be best if you're not here when that happens."
"Why?" Cordelia asked, looking confused.
Red kept looking at Angel. "Mother Hen."
Angel's eyes widened for a second as he got the reference. "Come on Cordy, we need to go!" he said as he dragged the protesting Chase woman away.
After they were gone, Lilah stepped forward. "So what about me?"
Red looked over at her. "What the hell ever possessed you to let that asswipe loose on the streets again, in the first place?"
Lilah fidgeted. "I'm a lawyer, and the Blim's are my clients. They have the firm's services on retainer."
"And you weren't bothered by the job they paid you to do?"
"That's not a consideration. Like I said, I'm a lawyer - which means ethically, I was obligated to carry out the wishes of my clients to the best of my ability," Lilah stated calmly.
"So you say. Still, counselor, the colonel is very disappointed in you."
For some reason Lilah found that affecting her more than it should have. Before she could respond, though, Ms. Morgan heard movement from behind the jet plane. She looked over and caught her breath. A group of very large demons came into view and started surrounding Blim's body. After a few seconds, the largest demon looked down at the corpse and then nodded.
Then another group came out of the hangar with a smaller green demon in the lead, the leader moving very poised and regally. He moved to where Billy's remains were laying. All of the demons made a point of not touching Blim or the blood coming from his body.
"This is Billy Blim?" the leader of the demons asked.
Lilah's eyes widened when she recognized the demon asking the question. "Yes, your majesty," she quickly answered.
The demon king turned his attention to Red. "You are Michael Byrne?"
Red nodded his head; he was starting to get an idea of who this was. "Yes sir."
"My daughter Ametila is quite taken with you. She is headstrong, and always has been. However I, indeed none of the royal family, ever expected her to have become so to this extent. Granted, a dalliance of sorts has been known to happen before, but for my daughter to contemplate a long-term relationship, let alone marriage, with one of your kind - well, it's unheard of."
The King walked towards Red. "Lurvack was at least three rods taller than you. He was a trained master of the warrior caste before he became my vizier, one of the best in generations, undefeated in combat, until he met you."
Byrne shrugged. "When we fought, that guy was practically insane after what Blim did to him. But even if he hadn't been, he was hurting Ametila."
"No further explanation required?" the King raised an eyebrow as he asked the question.
"No, sir."
"And him?"
Red looked at Blim's body. "He had to die for what he did to Ametila."
The King nodded approvingly. "I detect a Boston accent."
"Born and bred, sir."
"I know of the human clan named Byrne there, they have been in the banking business for a long time by human standards. If I recall correctly, Nathan Byrne oversees my account through various middlemen," the King said musingly.
"He's my father, sir."
"You didn't enter into your family's trade?" the King asked Red challengingly.
"No, sir. I had my own path to follow."
A throaty chuckle was the response to that answer. "A rebel, I see. You and Ametila share that trait." Ametila's father then spat on Blim's body. "Under different circumstances I would say something about him being a true example of humanity, but then again he was part-demon."
The King then turned to Lilah. "Now as for you."
"Yes, your majesty?" Lilah asked way too calmly
"That *thing* was let loose upon my daughter because of you and your firm. Do not doubt for a moment how I plan on discussing that at great length with your Senior Partners."
"I understand, your majesty," the female attorney said rather fearfully.
"Also, you and yours may feel the desire to retaliate against Mr. Byrne for his actions this night. So inform your superiors that I would become most displeased if that should happen." The King looked at Red. "Well?"
Red seemed to straighten up. "I love your daughter, sir, and she loves me. I asked her to marry me not long ago, and Ametila said yes."
{Hmm, well, at least his intentions are honorable.} "And if I do not approve of your union?"
"Sir, I would really like for you to give us your blessing on this matter."
"That is not what I asked."
"I know. Still, sir, I really would like your approval. I know that Ametila wants it, and so do I. On account of we plan on getting married and spending the rest of our lives together, come what may."
Ametila's father smiled for the first time. "Then perhaps you'll do. My queen and I will have to visit the Byrne clan as soon as possible, and discuss this with your parents."
Red instantly had the same sinking feeling in his stomach, which he did when Ametila had voiced her desire to meet her future mother-in-law yesterday.
Near the corner of Gervais and Assembly Streets, Columbia, South Carolina. October 30, 2001
Jackson Cleburne looked out of his office window, down at the grounds of the South Carolina state capitol building. The view was one of the perks of being a rising star in the law firm he was employed by.
He then looked back towards his desk as the intercom buzzed. "Yes, Rebecca?"
"Mr. Cleburne, your three-thirty appointment is here."
"Good, send her in." He stood up and walked to the door. When he was about halfway there, the door opened and Rebecca, a middle-aged woman dressed as an executive assistant, showed in a young blonde female in a smart business suit.
"Ms. Carter, good to meet you," Cleburne said politely, as he showed her to the chair in front of his desk.
"I'm glad you could see me on such short notice, sir," Monica Carter said as she sat down, showing a fair amount of leg.
Jackson sat down in the chair opposite from her. "My pleasure, although I must say I'm a little surprised that someone from the University of Georgia newspaper would come all the way to South Carolina to do a story about alumni involvement in college."
"Well, when I got started on the story, I pulled the list of those who were provided field passes by the UG football team, including those who were from other schools. I saw your name listed for the September 8th game."
Jackson shrugged. "Well, the alumni relations office at USC was most helpful in getting me tickets to the game. The field passes were just the icing on the cake, I suppose."
For a while, Monica and Jackson continued the conversation as to the obtaining of the field passes and Jackson's relations with his old alumna mater, Monica taking notes the whole time. "So, does your family share in your good fortune with USC, or is it just your friends from college?" Monica finally asked.
"Well, most of my family are Gamecocks," Jackson said with a smile. "We like to go to their games whenever we get the chance."
"So, then, did you and your family enjoy the recent USC-Georgia game?"
Jackson shook his head. "I couldn't make it to that game, actually. One of my brothers went in my place."
Monica nodded. "I don't suppose I can meet up with him at some point to get his input? Maybe some quotes or a photograph?" Here at last was the purpose of her visit, to forge another step closer to her objective.
Which was, to put it bluntly, to locate the one and only Xander Harris - who was the best lay Monica Carter had ever had.
Now so far Monica had been very subtle in her inquiries, in the way that young attractive women often were. However, Jackson Cleburne was subtle himself - as one did not get as far as he had in the legal business without knowing how to spot a trap, even if he wasn't sure yet whom it was for.
"I'm afraid that's not possible right now. He's overseas, what with the current world situation and everything," Jackson Cleburne said politely in response to Monica's question, his eyes were narrowed somewhat.
"Oh, he's in the army?" the blonde woman asked courteously.
"Something like that." Jackson looked at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me Ms. Carter, as much as I have enjoyed the company of a lovely young woman like yourself, I have many clients who are extremely demanding of my time," he said with a smile as he stood up.
Monica did likewise and held out her hand. "Of course, and I do appreciate your time today. Oh, and if you should be able to have your brother contact me for that quote, I would be most grateful," she said with a dazzling smile.
After she left the room, Jackson looked out the window and waited a few minutes until he was sure Monica had gone. He then picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Jacob? Yeah, it's me. Look, any chance you know where Joshua is? Because I think our brother's gone and gotten himself into yet *another* mess lately."
Representative Nathan Blim's office, Washington D.C. October 31, 2001
"Damn it, I don't want to hear some half-assed explanations!" Nathan Blim shouted as he threw a silver pen at one of the aides in his office. "What I want to know is, why can't you find out where exactly Billy's body is? Why can't you find out who killed him, either? I went to a lot of trouble to bring him back into the fold, and you all screw up like this? What the hell am I paying you people for?!"
"Sir, I'm afraid none of our usual sources are talking. All we've been able to learn so far is a rumor about the body being declared a health hazard," an aide managed to reply. As he finished that, the office door opened and a worried-looking secretary looked in.
"WHAT?!" Blim shouted at her.
"Sir, there's, uh, well, the, the..." the secretary stammered.
"Goddamn it, am I surrounded by morons?!" Blim growled and slammed his hands on the desk.
"Fuck you, asshole."
Blim looked up, red-faced and about to tear into whoever had dared talked to him like that. However, whatever he was going to say died on his lips as the Congressman saw just who was entering his office.
"Get out. All of you. Right now," The new arrival barked to Blim's staff as he came through the door, followed by two other people. The aides instantly scurried out of the room in response to the visitor's 'request'.
Cleburne shut the door behind the last aide, ignoring the mandatory Secret Service guard. {This ought to be good.}
"Mr. Vice President," Nathan finally managed to say as Dick Cheney walked towards his desk.
"Blim, let's get something straight right now. I never liked you when I was a Representative, and it's nice to know my instincts were absolutely right about you all along."
Nathan didn't let that faze him. "I don't know if you've heard, sir, but recently a tragic loss concerning my family has taken place in-"
"Oh yes, the late Billy Blim. Still, I wonder if even you are mourning his loss all that much."
Blim blinked, amazed at Cheney's comment. "He was my nephew, Mr. Vice President."
"Can't account for family," Cleburne said. Cheney looked at him, and Cleburne instantly shut up. The Marine colonel then handed a folder to Cheney, and the deputy leader of the nation turned back to Nathan Blim.
"William Blim. According to this, he spread problems and hatred everywhere he went," Cheney briefly perused the folder. "He was arrested in Los Angeles the other day on suspicion of murder, even if he never made it to the stationhouse and that little incident never made the papers. Still, the police and autopsy reports tell quite a story, and a rather gruesome story at that."
"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
Cheney smiled in way that almost looked like a snarl. "Of course you don't. Somehow, I suspect that you honestly don't want to acknowledge just what that boy really was."
Comprehension came to the Congressman. "You and your spooks, you're the one who declared Billy's remains a health hazard. How dare you-"
"Come on, Blim, you know exactly what he could do. The rules you told your family members to follow when dealing with him? They were quite detailed. So get off your moralistic high horse - we both know you didn't do anything to protect the public from him."
"Billy was a Blim, a gifted child, someone who deserved better than what you and your goons did to him!" Nathan stated angrily.
"Billy Blim was a pitiful individual who wasn't man enough to do his own violence. A manipulator who hid behind his puppets. I for one doubt that he'll be missed all that much," Cheney fired back, a mean look on his face.
"How dare you - I don't care who you are or what political office you hold, you can't say that to me. Do you know who I am?" That brought two snorts in response, but the Representative kept going. "I'm Nathan Blim, my family is one of premiere families in the country, one of the most powerful!"
"Keep going like that and you'll discover how there's always someone bigger than you," Cheney replied. "You've been asking questions, Blim, in fact you gave Director Tenet quite a grilling at that hearing the other day."
Blim blinked as Cheney went on, "Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how someone wants to know how we learned all about the upcoming 9/11 attacks. They don't want to be publicly exposed asking the questions, so they have their minions do the dirty work."
"I am no one's minion!" Blim hissed out.
"Future knowledge, that's the answer you're looking for. We actually thought about bringing him here to confront you with it, seeing is believing and all. However, it was decided that that would be too much of a security risk," Cheney pronounced.
Blim looked at the U.S. Vice President in confusion. "I don't understand."
"Well, in light of what's about to happen, we thought we should let you have one answer, for all the good it will do you." Cheney took some more papers from the folder. "Blim, a family like yours has a lot of history." He placed some of the papers on the desk. "One almost as long as the United States itself, and a lot of stories go with that. Stories of murder, vice, thievery and attempted cover-ups of quite a number of crimes."
Blim was starting to get nervous, even if there was no visible sign of it. "In the past, people have tried to generate vicious rumors and smear campaigns about me and my family."
"They're only rumors and smear campaigns until the proof appears, some of it recent." Cheney put some of the papers on the desk. "Some of it relates to you, personally."
Blim kept silent as Cheney put the rest of the papers on the desk. "As you can no doubt guess, these are not the only copies. I won't insult your intelligence by pretending you don't know where the other copies are."
"Why?" Blim managed to ask.
"Two reasons. First off, you were digging into things that are best not known. Now, at first glance it would seem that you were just trying to make political hay while the sun shines. However, we know better - you're the front man for someone. Someone that knows how to cover their tracks, so at this point, all we can do is make it more difficult for them. They'll have to find someone else to do their dirty work from now on."
Cheney started walking around the office, looking at the various pictures on the wall. "Of course, it might be problematic to find someone willing to take all the possible heat, considering what's about to happen to you and your family."
Blim gritted his teeth. He forced away visions of ruinous scandal that would soon drive him out of office as he said, "And the second reason?"
Cheney looked at Blim. "Like I said when I first came in here, I don't like you. Never have, never will." He turned around and started walking to the door. "I would say have a nice life, but then that would be awfully hypocritical of me." Cleburne opened the door and Cheney walked through. Cleburne looked at Blim for a second, smirked and then he followed Cheney and the Secret Service man out.
In the outer office, the rest of the Secret Service detail surrounded the Vice President. They walked down the office hallway, alert for danger at all times.
"You're leaving for Russia tomorrow, right?" Cheney asked Cleburne suddenly.
"Yes, sir, first thing in the morning."
"Still taking *him* with you?" the Vice President demanded.
"Well, sir, that is the whole point of our little visit. General Nosenko asked for him, and Monsignor Bentallo says that the prophecy specifically refers to him, so there's little reason in going to Russia without Lt. Howard."
"You're relying on a prophecy?" Cheney asked disapprovingly, overlooking the use of Xander's current alias instead of his real name.
"I'll admit it is somewhat unusual, sir, because nowadays we usually rely on future knowledge with regards to this sort of thing."
Cheney stopped for a second and looked at Cleburne, the security detail also freezing in their tracks. Then they all started walking again as Cheney said, "Don't get cute with me, Colonel. Just make sure you don't screw up on Russian soil."
"Don't worry, sir, we'll be back from Moscow almost before you know it," Cleburne had a small smile on his face
"I'll hold you to that."
Outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. Later that night
Halloween. A public holiday that had its roots in ancient autumn festivals for warding off evil spirits, it was a night for children everywhere to dress up in costumes and go trick o' treating, asking for sweets or candy.
And every two years or so, it was also a night for mayhem and chaos to befall the good old Scooby gang in Sunnydale.
Granted, this year's Halloween was a lot different than what it otherwise might have been. For example, Xander wasn't present in town and Anya would not be making any announcements regarding her upcoming nuptials with him. Oddly enough, the former vengeance demon was still together with Andrew at this point, even if everybody knew how their relationship was slowly but surely sliding down into the gutter.
Willow and Tara were somewhat better off - thanks to the contents of Xander's third letter, Miss Rosenberg was doing everything she could to avoid the breakup with her girlfriend which her first love had prophesised was coming soon. It was hard to tell if she would succeed or not, but one had to give Willow points for effort and all that.
Joyce Summers was still alive, and her worry over Dawn was enough to prevent the Key from trying to pull a fast one tonight like what had happened in the original history. Nonetheless, Josef Lemke - having been briefed by Xander on what might happen - was standing guard outside the Summers residence, keeping an eye out for Dawn in order to follow her if she left the house.
He felt his cell phone buzzing. He answered it, "Yes?"
"You're wasting your time. She's not going anywhere tonight," a young female voice said.
Lemke, startled, paused a second before he responded, "Excuse me? Miss, who are you? And how did you get this number?"
"Not yet," was the answer, then a cough was heard. Then the female teen said, "Listen to me. Right now, Dawn Summers is arguing with her sister Buffy, she's saying..."
Cassie Newton, laying in her hospital bed, closed her eyes, and timed it just right to be in sync with Dawn: "You're not my mother! Because hey, I don't really have parents..."
Lemke was confused. "How you could possibly know that?"
"They know about you, by the way. Or at least they suspect you of being in cahoots with the people Mrs. Summers met recently in Washington, despite how much they like you and consider you a friend," Cassie told the big Polack, even if she didn't directly answer his question. "I don't know if anyone's told you, so I thought I'd mention it just in case."
She continued on, "However, that's not important right now. You need to go somewhere else. There's a problem that you need to personally address."
"Why me?" Lemke asked suspiciously.
"Because I know you can handle it, the same way I knew your cell phone number."
Weatherly Park, Sunnydale, California. A while later
The young woman named Janice Penshaw had grown tired of waiting for Dawn to join her for their unauthorized Halloween jaunt tonight, and so she was making her way to the two boys in the park with a disappointed expression on her face. {Damn it, Dawn, I hope the Mominator didn't make you talk about our plans for this evening.}
She needn't have worried; like any healthy female teen in southern California, Dawn had a rebellious streak a mile wide and could easily resist confiding secrets to the parental units. Even if these days, the younger Miss Summers wasn't entirely sure just who qualified for those roles anymore. But Janice knew nothing about all that; all she knew was that her partner-in-crime had failed to show up, and now she was in danger of getting ditched by her date for the evening.
The two male teens, whose names were Justin and Zack, were horsing around the way a pair of guys often will. Justin threw something at Zack, who then threw it right back at him.
"To infinity and - ow!" Zack yelped in pain as the next missile hit him directly where it hurt.
"Oops," Justin said sarcastically, ignoring his buddy's glare.
"Nice shot," Janice commented, as she came up to the male pair.
Zack jumped down from the swing, and he and Justin walked over to the girl. "Hey baby," Zack said warmly, hugging Janice.
"Hey," Janice said as she hugged him back. Then she looked at him with a frown, "Cold hands tonight, huh?"
Zack shrugged and asked, "So what took you so long?"
"Eh, Dawn didn't show up where and when we planned to meet. Sorry," she said to him apologetically.
"Damn. I was *so* looking forward to meeting her," Justin sighed.
"Sorry, dude. But you know what they say - three's a crowd," Zack told him meaningfully. "Catch you later."
Justin grinned. "Hey, I can share. I promise you, I don't mind."
"You wanna share her with me? Dude, have you no self-respect?" Zack asked in annoyance.
Janice frowned. "Share me, you make me sound like-"
"A Happy Meal, something to eat? Yeah, I guess so," Zack said as he morphed into his game face.
Justin did likewise. "We can always get more to eat later on tonight, lots of other little Happy Meals in costume running around!"
Janice screamed as she saw their faces and Justin grabbed her. But then, the sound of a muffled gunshot rang out.
"What the-?" Zack said in shock as the vampire collapsed into ash, an explosive bullet piercing his skull and vaporizing his entire head.
Janice continued screaming her lungs out. "SHUT UP!" Justin shouted as he looked around, trying to figure out what had happened to his friend.
Holding Janice close to prevent her running away as well as using her as a shield, Justin looked around in the darkness of the night. "Okay, who's out there? Come out and lemme see you before the girl gets it!" He then muttered to himself, "Slayers using guns? That's different."
"What are you talking about?" Janice whispered. {It's a dream, a dream, just a bad dream, any moment I'll wake up safe and sound in my bed at home.}
"Be quiet," Justin ordered Janice roughly, before returning his attention to where he thought the shooter was. "So what's the dealio? I let her go, and you let me walk?"
"That old man, Mr. Kaltenbach?" a male voice spoke up out of the darkness. "You're not going to kill him tonight. Or the hostage you're currently holding."
"Just answer the goddamn question!" Justin demanded angrily, his hold on Janice slipping just a touch as he realized this wasn't the Slayer he was dealing with, after all.
Still, that was enough for the brunette female teenager to make a break for it; and as soon as Lemke had a clear line of fire, Justin joined Zack in the depths of Hell as the dust flew everywhere.
Badly traumatized, Janice started screaming all over again as she saw dust and blood covering her clothes. Lemke eventually stepped out of the shadows and said, "Miss Penshaw? Take my advice and head for the Summers residence, you'll be safe there."
Janice looked at him for a few seconds, and then still screaming she started running off into the night.
A cell phone started ringing. "Hello?" Lemke asked as he answered the phone.
"Well done. I knew you'd save her," Cassie's voice sounded a bit less hoarse now.
Lemke shrugged. "Thanks, I guess. So what now?"
"Buffy Summers will patrol after that girl arrives at her house, and she'll eventually take care of that gang of vampires over at the clearing near Lovers Lane. There's nothing more for you to do," Cassie told him.
"On the contrary, Miss Deep Throat Mystery Girl," Josef shook his head. "I think we need to have a long talk over just how you knew what you knew this evening, and who you are."
Cassie sighed as she watched the TV from the hospital bed. She'd known that this was coming, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "You've got questions, please - fire away."
"First, tell me how you got this phone number."
"Because you gave it to me. Or you will give it to me. Whatever."
Lemke didn't get that. "And who exactly are you?"
"For now - let's just say I know things, I see and hear things, and leave it at that." She then hung up without another word.
"Hello? Hello?" Lemke stared at his cell phone, cursing himself for not having put in a request to STW on the way here for a tracer to be put on his cell. "Aw, crap. I betcha eventually, this is all gonna blow up in my face somehow."
TBC...