"Dawn?" Andrew's voice and right hand (the one holding the stake) were both shaking.

For a moment, Andrew was glad when he saw Dawn looking up at him, but then her eyes closed. Panicking, Andrew crouched beside her and felt for a pulse. Thankfully, she still had one, though it was weak.

Andrew surveyed Dawn's body; it was not without its marks. There were bruises on her neck where Ilona had choked her, not to mention the bleeding; Andrew could still see the blood and the fang marks on Dawn's bare shoulder. During her struggle with Ilona, her skirt had hiked up to her waist; Andrew discreetly reached over and pulled it back down.

He briefly considered carrying her out, but he knew that it would be next to impossible to make it to the front doors of the building; he and Dawn's talismans were no longer any good, and the mind readers were no doubt still out there. Thanks to the measures that the CEO had taken to ensure nobody could hear or see what happened in the office, nobody outside knew what had occurred in this room. Andrew decided that, for now, he and Dawn would be safer if they remained in here.

He stood and walked over to the desk. Searching through the drawers, he found bottled water and a first-aid kit (Ilona had probably kept those things as a courtesy toward her clients); he carried them back to where the unconscious Dawn lay.

Opening up the kit, he found packets containing alcohol wipes. He tore one of them open, and rubbed the fang marks on Dawn's neck with it, to help disinfect the wounds. The kit didn't have much as far as bandaging, so he placed a band-aid over each of the fang marks; it looked tacky, but it would have to do for now. He pulled her shirt back onto her shoulder.

Andrew untwisted the lid on the bottle. Holding the bottle in his right hand, he wriggled his left hand under Dawn's back, and then used it to pull her unconscious form into a sitting position. He put the bottle to her lips.

"C'mon, don't die on me now, princess." He tipped the bottle, allowing the water to pour into her mouth; it ran down her chin.

Finally, she coughed, and Andrew sighed with relief. She opened her eyes.

"Andrew?" she inquired weakly. "What's happening?"

"Everything's going to be fine, princess, don't you worry. Want some more water?" Dawn nodded. He put the bottle to her lips again.

Getting behind her, he put his hands under her arms and dragged her to the wall, propping her up against it so she could remain sitting up.

"So what happens now?" asked Dawn. "Are we going to try to meet Buffy?"

"We can't right now, we wouldn't be able to get out of this building."

"Heh…we didn't exactly think out an escape plan, did we?" She smiled.

"No, can't say we did."

Dawn nodded. "Do you have your cell phone on you?" Andrew nodded and pulled it out.

Dawn gestured toward the phone. "We need to let Buffy know that we succeeded, and that she doesn't need to risk her life to come get us. Send her a text message; it may not be a good time to call her right now." Andrew nodded in response and starting pressing keys.

--

Buffy turned out to be alright; the blood loss had simply made her weak in the knees. Looking around, Xander had found some medical supplies upstairs in the Immortal's bedroom.

Buffy was kneeling on the floor. She turned and saw Xander pulling up a chair behind her. Nodding, she turned back and took her shirt off as Xander sat down; he had to force himself not to sneak a peak over her shoulder.

Xander cringed when he examined the slash that decorated her naked back. Xander swore that if the cut had been any deeper, he would have seen bone. Thankfully, it had stopped bleeding.

He started off by going over the rest of her back with a warm washcloth, so as to clean off the now-dried blood that had dripped down it.

"That was good faking, Buffy, I seriously thought you were going to die."

"I was."

"Huh?"

"You were the one who saved me…you distracted him from killing me, and then when he started coming after you…it was like I just suddenly got a second wind. So, let me just say…thank you, Xander."

"No problem, Buff."

"So, what's with the Kurt Russell look?"

"The what look?"

"You know, the long hair, the beard, on top of the eye patch?"

"Oh, yeah, that…well, I've kinda let myself go while I was in Africa."

"Speaking of which, why are you here? Not that I'm not ungrateful, but you were supposed to be looking for Slayers there."

Buffy winced as Xander began disinfecting her wound.

"Well," said Xander, "it began while I was searching for Slayers. The Slayers that were helping me came upon this small tribe that, by chance, happened to have three of them. We decided to set up our 'headquarters' there; we would go out to other places, and when we found a Slayer, we would bring her back to the headquarters. The language barrier was a pain in the ass, but with the help of several dictionaries and a few Africans who knew how to speak English as well as their native tongues, we were able to get by alright.

"This tribe we were staying with had a shaman; he was as old as anyone I had ever seen, with snow-white hair, and quite skilled with the magics. What was most interesting, however, was that he had the gift of foresight. He often had these painful visions that would usually tell him that someone was in trouble. He would be able to tell the tribe members who the person was, where they were, and what was needed to help them.

"These visions always were about things that happened within a few miles of where the tribe lived. However, one day, he had a vision that was not so close to home. It was more painful than usual; by the time it was done, he was bleeding from the nose.

"Instead of telling the vision to his tribe members, however, the shaman spoke to me through one of the translators. He told me that his vision took place in a land far away, in an old city with tall buildings. He said that the Slayer, the one with the 'hair made of sunlight' was in trouble, and that I needed to go to her. At first, I didn't understand, since there are now many Slayers, and I told the translator to ask the shaman if he could be a little more specific. The shaman told me to look for the dwelling of the man who lives forever. At first I thought he may have meant Angel's place, but when I asked, the shaman said that it was a man, a human one, not a vampire or a demon. Having been told before that you had been dating the Immortal, it did not take me long to figure out that it was you he was talking about when he referred to the whole 'hair of sunlight' deal."

"Wow; that's quite a story," said Buffy. Xander finished up by placing bandages over the wound and holding them in place with medical tape. Buffy put her shirt back on; it was not exactly considered high fashion to be wearing a blood-stained shirt, but what was she going to do, wear one of the Immortal's leisure suits?

Standing up, she walked into the room where she had left her coat. Putting the coat on, she heard a beep coming from one of its pockets, and realized it was her cell phone. Pulling it out, she found that Andrew had left a text message. It said that he and Dawn had been severely delayed, but not to worry to about them; they had finished their assigned task.

Buffy turned to Xander. "You probably should go, Xander. Things are going to be getting very chaotic here in a while."

"You mean those massive demon armies? The shaman mentioned those. I don't know if either of us will make it through the night, Buff, but if you're going to die tonight, I want to be there, too."

"That's sweet, Xander, but…"
"No buts, Buffy. I stuck by you for those seven years in Sunnydale, and if you die before me tonight, then I will go down defending your body."

Buffy smiled and nodded, knowing that there was no way she could persuade Xander from staying for the upcoming battle. She cocked her head toward the front door.

"C'mon, Xander. We've got to rendezvous."

--

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to get another chapter out, but now I'm finally done with my midterms (and boy, did I suck at them!), so now I can start writing again. With much luck, I will have this story finished within a week. The end is near, I assure you!

Thanks for all the feedback, and keep reading!