Chapter Nineteen

Tuesday, November 12, 2002 – Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale; night:

Andrew and Jonathan, now dressed entirely in black, descended down a rope from the ceiling skylight, landing in the new high school library. Jonathan landed safely, unhooked himself and looked around. Andrew, not quite as adept with the ropes as his partner, landed flat on his face and started moaning.

"Get up, you wuss," Levinson told him unsympathetically.

"I have shin splints." Andrew tried to get up, but failed. "Ow," he groaned.

Sighing in exasperation, Jonathan yanked him up to his feet. They then quickly exited the library, after fastening large black packs on their backs. Andrew brought out a map of the school and both of them grabbed their flashlights, as they began walking down the school corridor.

"Maybe we should go get Buffy," Jonathan said uncertainly, looking like he wanted to turn on the main lights in order to see properly.

"No way," Andrew disagreed at once.

Jonathan still looked unconvinced. "We should just tell her what we know about this evil Danzalthar thing."

Andrew said to his partner in no uncertain terms, "Think, McFly, think. Why would she believe us without any proof? We go to her empty-handed, and we'll be coolin' our heels in the clink in a Bell's microsecond!"

Levinson was quickly convinced to drop the idea, after hearing that. "I ain't goin' back to the big house. That place changes a man."

Andrew nodded. "That's why we need proof. So think of it as – as trial by fire. A quest."

"Una questa?"

He sighed. "We find it. We alert the Slayer. We help her destroy it. We save Sunnydale." They stopped walking as Andrew added, "Then we join her gang, and possibly hang out at her house."

Jonathan shrugged. "Right. OK. What do we do first?"

Andrew took a moment to think about it. "I think we should find the door to the basement, and work our way down from there."

Levinson replied, "OK, uh, um, uh, I'll go over there, and you go check down the hallway." He pointed right, before indicating that Andrew should go left.

Andrew then said, "Check communications?"

Still standing beside each other, both of them reached into the pockets of their cargo pants and pulled out walkie-talkie radios. The radios beeped once turned on. Jonathan said into his walkie-talkie, "Check. Check."

Andrew replied into his radio, even though Jonathan was right there and could easily hear him, "Check. Check."

"Check."

"Check. Check."

"Check. Check."

"Check. Check. Check."

"Check," Jonathan said, before they were finally satisfied that their walkie-talkies actually worked. Both of them then nodded to each other, and went their separate ways.

Down the hall, Warren (or, at least, something that looked like him) came out from behind one of the school lockers and walked up to Andrew. "Nice job," the guy said admiringly.

Andrew looked at his not-so-secret crush with an expression of huge relief. "There you are. I'm scared out of my frickin' gourd here!"

Warren chuckled, briefly. "Take it easy. Take it easy."

Andrew wasn't willing to calm down so easily, though. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been to act this cool?"

"Calm down, you're doing great. All specs are within parameters," Warren replied reassuringly.

Andrew nonetheless whined, "You keep leaving me. I hate it when you leave me. Especially when you died, and I ended up in Mexico."

"We've been over this. Now, that death thing was all part of the master plan. Come on, 'If you strike me down... '" Warren trailed off.

Andrew did his best Obi-Wan Kenobi impression, "I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." He giggled, once. "Of course. Do you think, maybe, Willow could kill me, too?"

Warren brushed the question aside. "Hey, don't worry about that. I mean, if the shortcake pulls off his end of the bargain, we'll all become gods."

Andrew turned to look down hall where Jonathan went, and did another Alec Guinness impression. "That boy is our last hope."

Warren walked forward to stand beside Andrew, doing a Yoda impersonation. "No, there is another."

Andrew looked at Warren in confusion. "Wait, really? Who's our last hope, then?"

Warren shook his head. "No, dude, I was just going with it. It was a thing. He really is our last hope."


Earlier that evening – bathroom of Didier's restaurant, Sunnydale; evening:

Cordelia stared at 'Kendra' and said, "You need to talk to me? About what?"

The so-called Slayer didn't answer at first; she just came a few steps closer. "You don't remember, do ya? Ya don't remember what happened, de day I died."

Somewhat annoyed by the thick accent, Cordelia said, "No, guess I don't. So, if you're, like, a Ghost Girl now? Look for a light, and head towards it!"

"It's not dat simple," 'Kendra' replied, seemingly ignoring that. "It's all yer fault I died in dat school library, after all."

"WHAT? How the hell is it my fault you ended up getting killed?!" Cordelia demanded angrily.

"Xander didn't mention dis, did he? If he hadn't been so concerned 'bout you 'n dat Willow girl, he could have – "

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, cutting 'Kendra' off mid-sentence. And after hearing details, Cordelia added, "Oh yeah? So my boyfriend's priority was me, instead of you? Well, obviously! And besides, what about my pain? I'm the one who must have had to deal with having my outfit getting ruined after that attack, and my time with my boyfriend interrupted by your trauma! Seriously – couldn't the real you have gone and gotten killed on her own time, like, elsewhere, and left me out of it?"

'Kendra' looked taken aback for a moment by Cordelia's response. But then she focused again and said, "You, you, you. It's no wonder dat Xander cheated on ya wit' Willow, ya self-centered shrew, he musta wanted a real woman – one wit'out all yer vapid chit-chat – "

"SHUT UP about that!" Cordelia hissed, instantly upset.

'Kendra' sent her a malevolent smile, obviously sensing an opening. "Oh, I don't t'ink so. Has Xander mentioned all de t'ings ya said 'n did ta humiliate him back den, fer cheatin' on you? No, o' course he hasn't. De man didn't want to upset ya. Well, den, let me fill ya in on some of de more memorable highlights... "

The Kendra lookalike then said, using Cordelia's voice and accent, "It must be really hard when all your friends have, like, superpowers – Slayer, werewolf, witches, vampires – and you're, like, this little nothing. You must feel like Jimmy Olsen."

"I did not say that!" Cordelia shouted hotly, glaring at 'Kendra.'

"Oh, yes, ya did. De truth is often more effective dan lies fer gettin' de message across, after all." 'Kendra' then continued imitating her voice, telling her, "'Integral part' of the group? Xander, you're the, the useless part of the group. You're the Zeppo."

"Shut up."

"'Cool.' Look it up. It's something that a sub-literate that's repeated twelfth grade three times has, and you don't."

"I said, stop it!"

"There was no part of that that wasn't fun."

"I'm warning you-!" Cordelia abruptly rushed forward to try to rip the other woman's hair out, but unfortunately, her hands passed straight through the non-corporeal female form. "Damn it!"

'Kendra' just continued to smile malevolently. "Deep down, ya know it's true, don'tcha? Just like you know dat you don't belong here, not anymore. You just barged yer way into everyone's lives in dis town. Especially Xander's. But dat won't last long, will it? No, it won't. You'll be back on yer way to L.A. soon enough, ya will... "

'Kendra' abruptly morphed into the image of the long-dead Jenny Calendar. 'Jenny' then said, "Back to Angel and his friends. Back to the vampire that murdered me, and got away with it. I thought you actually had better sense, not to mention taste, than to become the best friend and confidant of that undead monster. But as my family used to say – those who rise up from the mud, sooner or later sink back into it. So I guess it's not too surprising that you turned out just like your step-mother. A gold-digger who cheated on her husband, as often as she could."

"SHUT UP!" Cordelia screamed, enraged by the comparison and the slur against the woman who'd raised her.

'Jenny Calendar' instantly transformed into the image of Devon. "Seriously, babe, no need to get so upset. What's wrong? Oh, wait, now I get it – you like being blunt and tactless to other people, no matter how much it hurts them." He then smirked evilly. "But you can't take it when other people do it to you? Hypocritical, much?"

"You're not Devon. What are you?" Cordelia demanded heatedly.

But 'Devon' simply ignored her question. "Hrmm. Blunt, snarky, sarcastic, caustic, tactless. Reminds you of anyone? Oh, yeah, I believe her name's Anya. The new and improved girlfriend whom Harris started sleeping with, almost as soon as you had left the picture. You wanna hear some of the sweet nothings he used to whisper in her ear?"

"No, I DON'T!"

Smiling nastily 'Devon' then said, using Xander's voice, "I'm in love with you. Powerfully, painfully in love. The things you do... the way you think... the way you move... I get excited every time I'm about to see you. You make me feel like I've never felt before in my life. Like a man."

"Shut the hell up!" Cordelia yelled, feeling like this thing had just ripped open a hole in her heart and soul.

"Truth hurts, huh? So why don't you be a good little girl, and just go back to L.A. where you belong. You stay here, you're in for a whole world of hurt. That much, I can promise you." With a brief flash of white light, 'Devon' vanished from sight.

"Oh... " Cordelia started to moan, when out of nowhere, a vision hit her with the force of a metaphysical freight train.

"Oh... " Cordy said again, her eyes going white – completely white, no pupils, and looking like slices of ping pong balls under her lids. And then she started glowing. And floating. Back arched, head thrown back, she rose roughly two inches off the ground as the visual images played out in her mind's eye...

An older-looking Jonathan Levinson and another guy in a basement somewhere, standing on top of a metal platform of some kind, with a goat's head etched onto it. The stranger comes over and puts his right hand on Jonathan's shoulder. Jonathan's eyes widen, as the guy stabs him with the knife in his left hand, directly in the belly. Jonathan looks stunned, and then collapses in agony...

The white glow vanished like someone had flipped off a switch, and Cordelia's eyes abruptly went back to their normal hazel color, as the vision ended.

"Oh. Wow." Cordy shook her head, just before she fell back to the ground with a minor thump. She staggered a moment before saying to herself, "Oh, that, that was just... beyond freaky... "

Quickly pulling herself together, Cordelia managed to figure out what was going on. She knew that she'd become a Seer of some sort over the past three years; both Willow and Xander had told her that. And even though, deep in her heart, she couldn't really believe it before – she certainly did now.

{ Don't freak out. Don't think about all the things that bitch -slash- bastard just told you. Just focus on the problem at hand, damn it! }

Quickly checking her appearance in the mirror, she strode out of the bathroom and back over to the dinner table where Xander was waiting for her. Cordelia said to him, "We've got to leave. Right now."

"Look, Cordy, if this is about you thinking I'm upset about the whole 'us' thing – " Xander started to say.

"No, you moron! This isn't about that!" She hauled him up out of the chair and said quietly, "I just had a vision in the bathroom."

"You had a what?" Xander looked at her like she'd just grown another head or something.

"Don't look at me like that! Now come on." Cordelia literally dragged him away towards the front doors.

"Mademoiselle Chase? What's wrong?" the maitre'd named Jean-Michel asked in concern, as he took in the scene.

Cordy stopped in her tracks and told the Frenchman, "I'm sorry, but Xander and I have to go."

"But, mademoiselle, you haven't had time to even order the main course yet!"

"I know, but this is a matter of life and death. Jean-Michel, someone I know is going to die tonight, if Xander and I don't get there in time to stop it," Cordelia told him firmly, as Harris openly gaped at her.

"I see," the maitre'd nodded, instantly believing her. "And the police cannot handle this matter?"

"The Sunnydale PD?" Xander said automatically, the derision in his voice causing the Frenchman to stare at him. "And just how long have you been living in this town, pal?"

"We don't have time for this," Cordelia said, not giving the restaurant worker time to respond. "Xander, pay the man and let's get out of here!"

"OK," Xander shrugged, reaching for his wallet. "Even if neither of us actually ate anything... "

"Non, non, in that case – and if this truly is an emergency, as you say – then I will not hear of it," Jean-Michel responded, shaking his head. "Go, Mademoiselle Chase, do what you must. And come again soon, so that you and your gentleman friend here may have a proper meal at our establishment!"

"Merci, Jean-Michel," Cordelia flashed him a brilliant beauty queen smile, as she grabbed Xander's wrist and started to haul him away.

"Avec plaisir," the Frenchman told her, before snapping his fingers and giving orders to the head waiter to clear their table, and open it up for the next customer.

Outside, Xander suddenly dug in his heels and brought both her and himself to a grinding halt. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold it, sweetheart. We need to talk! And let's start with sixty-four million dollar question; what exactly did you see, when you had that vision thing?"

"I – wait. How much do you know about the visions I get?" she asked rapidly.

"Practically nothing," Harris shrugged. "You mentioned it to Willow way back when, and she's mentioned it to me and everyone else in the Scooby Gang. And sorry, but I don't know details – because, like I've said before, we haven't personally spoken for over three years."

That offhand remark was enough to remind Cordy yet again of the unpleasant conversation with that shape-changing, intangible thing just now; but by sheer force of will, she shoved all that to the back of her mind and said urgently, "Well, it was pretty surreal. Like watching C-SPAN on acid, almost. But bottom line, I saw that nerd Jonathan get killed – "

"Jonathan? Jonathan Levinson? As in, that nerd we went to school with? The one you briefly dated, back in junior year?" Xander interrupted, looking surprised.

"Yeah, him. I saw him get murdered, Jonathan was stabbed with a knife by some guy with dark blond hair," Cordy said urgently.

"Andrew?" Xander guessed, and elaborated upon seeing Cordelia's confused expression, "Andrew Wells? Tucker's brother? The guy who was planning to attack Senior Prom with his hellhounds?"

"What? And who?"

"Uggh, damn it! I keep forgetting you don't remember anything past the end of junior year – and besides, even if you did... you probably never heard of the guy anyway, you've been away from the Hellmouth too long," Xander exhaled loudly. "Anyway, Andrew, Warren and Jonathan were all major pains in our asses last year. They had this whole super-villain shtick going, think Pinky and the Brain but without even half the panache. And in the end, Warren got flayed alive, and his two sidekicks skedaddled out of town. I thought we'd seen the last of them... "

"We're going to see the last of Jonathan pretty soon, if we don't hurry," Cordelia said warningly. "I'm not sure where they are, but it looked like a basement of some sort, and they were standing on top of a metal surface with a goat's head on it."

"Huh. Anything else?"

"No, not really. Except – I got the feeling the place was familiar, somehow. Like I'd been there before," Cordelia said slowly, trying to explain herself. "Which is kinda weird; I mean, it's not like I've spent a lot of time in other people's basements, or at least not that I can remember. I mean, there was that time we were trapped in Buffy's basement, but the place in my vision sure as hell didn't look like that! And about the only other basement I can think of I've spent any time in, is – "

"The high school," Xander said, cutting her off. This time he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him to the car. "C'mon, let's go!"


A while later – Sunnydale High School basement, Sunnydale; night:

Jonathan and Andrew were busy digging through the dirt floor. Something that Levinson knew was a total violation of numerous building codes, not to mention common sense. But having given up trying to understand it, he just grunted and said, "We almost got this thing uncovered. Finally."

"Yep," Andrew nodded.

Jonathan added musingly, "I hope Buffy'll know how to destroy it." He paused for a few moments. "36-19-27! That's it! That was my locker combination." He started digging again. "God, it's been bugging me all night."

"Dude, we spent the last few years attempting to forget all about high school. Why are you trying so hard to remember it now?" Andrew asked, looking perplexed and confused.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I kinda miss it. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I really miss it," Andrew said sarcastically.

Jonathan stopped digging again. "No, I'm serious. I actually miss it. Time goes by, and all the bad stuff sorta just drops away." Andrew stopped digging as well, and looked at him in pure disbelief as he added, "All the cruelty, all the pain, all that humiliation. It all goes away, eventually. Lets me remember the good times, instead."

Andrew looked over his shoulder. But seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Jonathan continued his soliloquy, "I miss my friends. I miss my enemies. I miss the people I used to talk to every day. I miss the people who never even knew I existed. I miss 'em all. I actually want to talk to them, you know? I want to find out how they're doing. I want to know what's going on in their lives."

"Yeah, well, you know what? They don't wanna talk to you – all those people you just mentioned. Not one of them is sitting around going, 'I wonder what Jonathan's up to right now.' Not one of them cares about you," Andrew said huffily.

Jonathan shrugged. "Well, I still care about them. That's why I'm here."

He started digging again, and Andrew followed suit. The six-foot wide circular metal object containing the shape of an inverted pentagram, with a horned goat head symbol on it, soon became a lot more visible.

After finishing the job to his satisfaction, Jonathan started packing up his stuff. He then heard Andrew say, "Hey, Jonathan, can you come over here a sec?"

Confused, he walked over to his partner. "What? I mean, we uncovered the seal. It's time to go and get Buffy in on this."

"Yeah, but – " Andrew started to say, placing his right hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"JONATHAN!" a woman's voice suddenly screamed out of nowhere. "GET DOWN!"

The loud roar of a gunshot echoed in the basement, and Jonathan instinctively dove for the basement floor – just as the knife Andrew was wielding failed to find its intended target.

"I-I missed!" Andrew said in panicked incredulity.

Jonathan saw Xander and Cordelia at the doorway, before Harris came running straight towards him. No, make that Andrew. With a short barreled pump-action twelve-gauge in his hands, pointed right at Andrew's heart. { What the – }

"Drop the knife," Xander said menacingly. "Or I'll drop you."

"Now, now wait, it's not what you think, I-I-I was just – " Andrew started to babble in sheer panic.

WHAM!

The butt of the shotgun slammed directly into Andrew's face, knocking him down and out cold on the metal seal. Xander looked like he was in no mood for useless quips as he said, "Cordy?"

"Gimme." Cordelia accepted the shotgun from Xander, who then looked back down at Andrew's unconscious form.

Jonathan, still not sure what was going on, got up off the seal and looked around in Cordelia's direction – only to see the former cheerleader heading straight for him. "Uh... "

Cordelia shook her head, giving him a disgusted look. "You owe me your life, Dweeboid," she said contemptuously, before adding, "Jesus freaking Christ, Jonathan. Xander's told me everything. How could you?"

"I... "

"That guy was gonna stab you to death, you complete waste of skin," Cordelia said scathingly, even as Xander began securing the unconscious Andrew's hands with some rope. "And from what I've heard, you might actually deserve it! I am so disappointed in you, Jerk. To think, I actually dated you that one time. Jeez!"

"I know," Jonathan hung his head in shame, all but scuffing the ground with his foot. "Thank you, and – I'm sorry, Cordelia. I, I don't know what happened last year, really. It all just, kinda, got way out of control... "

"Shut the hell up. I'm not interested in hearing your excuses. Nobody is, not anymore," Xander cut in roughly. "Keep a close eye on him, honey, and if he tries to run for it – shoot him."

"No problem," Cordelia replied, and then raised an eyebrow at Jonathan's horrified look. "Oh, don't worry, I won't kill you. But I'm thinking you'll find it real hard to run if I blow off one or both of your kneecaps, Dumbass! So don't. Even. Think it."

Jonathan nodded furiously, like a bobble-head doll, as Xander lifted Andrew's body up into a fireman's carry. He noted that Harris was not making any effort to be gentle, and upon seeing Andrew's knife on the ground – it was about as long as a steak knife – Jonathan couldn't help getting mad. { That son of a bitch, he was going to kill me! I actually came this close to... }

"Uh... knife?" He pointed at the weapon in question, quickly calming down. "Not that I want it, but, um – we shouldn't just leave it here, right?"

"First smart thing I've heard you say in ages," Xander grumbled, as he nodded to his former girlfriend, and she picked up the knife before putting it in her handbag. Harris then said, "Alright. So what are we gonna do with you, Jonathan? I swear, I'm tempted to simply take you in and let the cops throw you in jail all over again – "

"No! Wait, don't do that, at least – not yet," he said urgently. "I, I gotta talk to Buffy first."

"Buffy? Why?" Cordelia asked, suspiciously.

"The seal of Danzalthar," Jonathan said, pointing down to the metal platform. "That's why I came back; I couldn't take the nightmares anymore. Every night, Andrew and I had the same dream. About this, a-and that evil, nightmarish voice saying, 'Desde abajo te debora.' I, I dunno exactly what it means... "

"From beneath you it devours," Xander said impatiently. Off Cordelia's look, he added, "Two years of high school Spanish, Cor, some of it stuck. You're not the only one who can speak a foreign language, y'know."

She briefly stuck out her tongue at him before asking, "Seriously, Doofus, what do we do with these two idiots?"

"Buffy's house, for now," Xander quickly decided, redistributing Andrew's weight on his shoulders. "C'mon, let's go. You too, Jonathan, move it!"


A while later – 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; night:

Dawn stared around at her home, which looked like a war zone or earthquake disaster area or something. Nearly all the windows were smashed, ditto the TV and the stereo and the microwave. The lamps and pictures were all broken, and lying scattered on the floor. Broken glass and wrecked furniture was everywhere.

But Dawn wasn't thinking about all that right now. She was thinking of the heavenly appearance of her mother, Joyce, who had warned her that when things got bad... Buffy wouldn't choose her. Whatever that really meant.

Willow hurriedly came into the house, almost running through the front door. "Buffy?" she called out, before starting to go upstairs.

From the living room, Dawn answered, "She's not here." She was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, hugging a pillow amid all the destruction from earlier in the evening.

Willow rushed into the room, calling out, "Dawn? Oh my God!" The redhead ran to her side, panicked. "What're you – Dawn, what happened here? What – you're cut... "

She more or less brushed that aside. "I'm all right."

"Let me see, I wanna make sure." Willow turned Dawn's face side to side to inspect it carefully.

"I saw Mom," Dawn abruptly blurted out, causing the redhead to pause and look at her oddly. "She was here, Willow. I saw her. She was here, and she spoke to me."

"Oh, sweetie," Willow said sympathetically.

"No, don't automatically assume I'm wrong, or hallucinating, or whatever! I'm telling you, Willow, she was right here, and – and then she wasn't. She – "

"I believe you. But it wasn't her," the witch interrupted, moving back from her.

"What?"

"At least, I'm pretty sure it wasn't. I, I encountered something tonight as well, and it looked like... someone else, but it wasn't really her," Willow tried to explain.

"I don't understand," Dawn said in confusion.

"It was the First Evil, Dawn. It came to me tonight at the Magic Box, looking like that Cassie Newton girl. And Warren, too – briefly. Looks like it's not just targeting Buffy any longer! So I'm thinking odds are that's what you saw, when you thought you were seeing Joyce," Willow told her, which made Dawn freeze in horror.

"So, so if that wasn't really my mom... maybe that invisible demon thing which was also here, it was actually trying to protect me from the First?" she asked, completely confused now. "I don't know anymore, I just... "

"Invisible demon thing?" Willow asked, her interest piqued.

"Yeah, it was just... I did this banishing ritual, kinda kicked its ass," Dawn said, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Which explains the current state of the house."

"Go you, Dawnie!" Willow smiled at her. "Things really are something of a mess around here, though."

"Can you fix it? 'Cause I don't think we're gonna be able to afford the cost of repairs, not on Buffy's salary," Dawn said pragmatically.

Willow hesitated before saying, "Uh, maybe we can get Xander to – "

"NO! We've got to stop depending on him for stuff like that," Dawn said firmly, cutting Willow off at once. "I mean, I know he doesn't mind helping out – but it's not Xander's job to always fix the damage around here, every time something invades the house! He won't admit it, but it costs him both time and money – and Buffy is taking his services for granted way too much, nowadays. Besides, he's all busy with Cordelia right now. And I'd prefer not seeing her again, until she gets her memories back and returns to normal!"

Willow nodded silently before she muttered a short phrase in Japanese, and a giant wave of magic passed through the entire house. Reality shimmered, briefly – and once it had passed, all the damage was gone. Doors and windows intact, furniture fixed, all the rubbish on the living room floor vanished.

Only problem was, Willow's eyes were now completely black.

Dawn noticed it, and moved back at once as her friend started breathing heavily. She stayed silent as the witch tried to regain some semblance of self-control. They both knew how she'd already had enough of Black Magic Willow's threats to last a lifetime, after all.

Slowly, the black color bled away and Willow's normal sea-green orbs returned. The redhead heaved a sigh of relief and said, "Sorry about that, Dawnie, I just – "

"I know. It's OK. No explanations required," Dawn interrupted. "I was kinda expecting it, anyway. And I wouldn't have asked you to do it, if I thought you couldn't handle it."

{ Well, I hoped you'd be able to handle it, anyway, } Dawn thought to herself with a sigh, as Willow collapsed onto the couch. { But then again, that's pretty much par for the course around here, isn't it? Hope for the best, but expect the worst... }

Both of them heard a knock on the front door, and Willow got up and went to answer it. "Who's there?"

"Will, it's me, Xander. Open up, we got prisoners and everything!"

Confused, Willow opened the door – and straightaway, Xander came inside with a male body draped across his shoulders. She was shocked to recognize Andrew's face, and equally shocked to recognize Jonathan too, as Cordelia escorted him inside at gunpoint. "What the-?"

"High school basement, attempted murder, vision thing – it's all kinda complicated," Cordelia replied succinctly, gesturing with the shotgun for Jonathan to sit down on the couch. "Sit. And stay, Twerp."

"So, why'd you bring them here?" Dawn asked, not looking at the former May Queen.

"My apartment wasn't exactly an option, not with all the security cameras outside the building, and it's nearly midnight; I figure Ahn musta locked up the Magic Box and gone home ages ago," Xander grunted, before dumping Andrew onto the couch next to Jonathan. He then went to get a chair, in order to tie Wells securely to it.

At that moment, Buffy dashed in through the front door, and took in the unexpected sight of Andrew and Jonathan on her couch. She blinked and said, "OK, what'd I miss?"

"Lemme see. I had a vision of Jonathan here getting stabbed by that Andrew guy, and Xander and I barely stopped it in time at the new high school," Cordelia said brightly.

"I got a visit from the First Evil, it was pretending to be that Cassie Newton girl," Willow shrugged.

"The house got trashed, I had a vision of Mom, Willow fixed all the damage just now; and then just about everyone shows up here like it's Grand Central Station, or something," Dawn reported.

"So how was your night, Buff?" Xander asked, as he finished tying Andrew up securely.

"Vampire. Guy named Holden Webster – " Buffy started to say.

"Webs?" Willow, Xander and Cordelia all said at the same time, a surprised look on their faces.

"Jeez, did everybody know this guy in high school except me?" Buffy asked crossly, before calming down. "Anyway, before I dusted him, he said Spike was his sire."

"WHAT?" everybody said in disbelief, except for Cordelia.

"I knew it! I just knew that that guy was tricking you all!" she crowed triumphantly. Then Cordy stared at Buffy. "All right, what's the plan? How can we help in tracking him down and staking his evil ass?"

"No, wait," Buffy shook her head, looking unwilling to agree to that. "I mean, all we have so far is that Webster guy's word for it. I mean, Spike can't be the one who turned him. He couldn't have, even if he wanted to!"

Cordelia frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, that chip in his head? Like I told you last night, Spike can't hurt anybody any longer," Buffy said hastily.

"He can hurt you," Xander said bluntly, and Dawn didn't like how that caused her big sister to look away immediately. Then Harris added, "Hey, sorry, Slay-gal; but you know it's true, no point tryin' to deny it. Could be that Spike's chip isn't working at all, not any longer."

"No, it's working. I've seen it," Buffy said insistently.

"Have you? Or is that just what you want to believe? Or what Spike wants you to believe?" Cordelia asked Big Sis challengingly. Then Xander's ex said, "Tell me something, Buffy – are you really willing to risk people getting killed, just so you can cling to your pathetic belief that Spike can be 'redeemed'? Like I remember you doing for Angel -slash- Angelus, recently? Newsflash, but they're vampires! Soul, chip, whatever; that doesn't change what they are. Namely, a bloodsucking demon. And if Spike is killing people, and you don't do anything to stop it? In my book, that's called being an accessory to murder."

"Why, you-!"

The inevitable loud argument began, as Xander sighed to himself and sat down in the lounge chair opposite her. As the screaming and yelling grew louder, Dawn leaned over and asked her former crush, "Want some Mountain Dew? I figure, this is gonna take a while... "


Wednesday, November 13, 2002 – 634 Hoffman Terrace, Sunnydale; not long after midnight:

Upstairs, the house was empty and silent. But down in the basement, things were definitely happening.

Spike was humming a song to himself, digging a hole in the basement floor – which, again, in defiance of various building codes and ordinary common sense, was just plain dirt. The British vampire stopped, dusted off his hands and looked down at the young woman he'd killed earlier in the evening. He hoisted her up by the jacket collar, looked her in the face, and callously threw her into the shallow grave. He then buried her, still humming the song from before.

The First Evil, still looking like Spike, laughed and sang along in time with the humming. "Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard the fair maid sing in the valley down below. Oh, don't deceive me. Oh never leave me." It/he sat on the basement stairs. "How could you use a poor maid so?"


A while later – the same place; night:

Amy and Whistler appeared out of the shadows, and the young witch shuddered in loathing as she stared at the dirt floor – which, she could sense, was full of buried bodies.

"So. The First Evil really did it, huh? Just like you said it would. It turned that Spike guy into a killer again," Amy said, gesturing at the floor. "How many people are buried here, anyway?"

"Ten," Whistler said solemnly, staring down at the floor. "And the way things would have worked out originally, William the Bloody woulda brought the blondie Slayer here – and they would have attacked her, after the First activated that vampire's trigger. Nasty stuff."

"Yeah. I mean, I may not like Buffy much any longer, but death by vampire? Can't think of many worse ways to go than that," Amy shuddered again.

"Oh, they wouldn't have killed her. Woulda come close, sure, but she'd have won using that stuff," Whistler gestured to the various garden tools with wooden handles nearby.

"This is all part of that precog thing you can do, isn't it? Kinda like what we did in Los Angeles yesterday, making sure Xander didn't get that transfer out of Sunnydale?" Amy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup," the Messenger sighed. "And before you ask, kid, we couldn't upset the balance that much by saving all these poor slobs buried underneath us. It was their time, and besides – according to the new game plan, grisly as it sounds... they needed to die."

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what that means. So please, don't even try to explain," Amy said hastily. "Anyway, why exactly are we here?"

"Well, one, I figured you could use a break from distracting good ol' Skippy, the way you've been doing lately. And two, clean-up detail, since the Slayer ain't gonna be coming here anymore; best as I can tell, anyway," Whistler said reflectively. "Go ahead, kid; you know what to do."

Shrugging, Amy raised her hands and cast a spell that raised all ten corpses out of the earth, and then she chanted: "Incindere!"

The bodies immediately burst into flames, before the ashy remains floated down to the basement floor.

TBC...


A/N: Well, we're definitely done with Conversations With Dead People, and into Sleeper territory now. What did everyone think of that episode, by the way? In our view, there were some gaping plot holes - but the most amusing part was Anya psyching herself up to have sex with Spike, and then constantly pouting after he rejected her and hurt her feelings! And spoiler alert, but that almost certainly won't be happening in this AU. So the only thing left to say is thank ye kindly to everyone for reading and reviewing the story, and please keep the feedback and critique coming!