Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)
AN: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait. I'll say more on that at the end, but for now:

Thank you again to NeverTooOld for beta-reading. Enjoy! ^_^

Warnings: Spoilers for Buffy Season 3, Episode 4, "Beauty and the Beast."

A Call Away

Part II in Mathematics & Magic

By Jess S

Chapter 5: Within & Without

Part II

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High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Buffy sighed as she made her way slowly through the empty school hallways. This morning she'd used the school bell as an excuse to dodge a question she'd wanted to hear from her friends weeks ago. Her problem being, of course, that though she'd wanted to hear the question, she still wasn't entirely sure how to answer it.

Charlie's a friend from LA. No, not from when she lived in LA, from when she went there this summer. After everything with Angel and Angelus and the source of all—or at least most of—the abandonment issues her friends had complained of not too long ago. How'd I meet him? Well, how I seem to meet everyone worth knowing since I became The Slayer: he was attacked by vampires, I slay vampires. Of course, it was a lot more complicated than that, but that was kinda the start.

Didn't help matters that the only member of her circle of friends here in Sunnydale that had heard anything about Charlie before today—even though it was mostly by accident since she hadn't noticed the first time Buffy'd mentioned him—was Faith. Buffy didn't really mind her sister-Slayer knowing, but she was aware of how it might look to her older friends.

"Miss Summers, everything all right?"

Buffy started and blinked as she turned to see a vaguely familiar man walking with her, a disposable cup of coffee in hand. "M-Mr. Platt? Oh! Yeah, everything's fine. How are you today?"

"Good, thank you," the counselor nodded, smiling slightly as he took a sip of his coffee. "Have you given any thought to setting up another appointment?"

"Don't I have to?" Buffy frowned slightly in confusion.

"Not really, no." Platt shook his head, a soft smile still comfortable on his face. "If you recall I already signed off on your continued admittance here at school. Something I heard quite a bit about from one of the powers on high earlier this morning. Still, that's all taken care of, but it doesn't change the fact that you really might want to stop by once a week just to talk." When Buffy didn't reply right away, he shook his head. "Like today, what's the long face about?"

Buffy grimaced slightly and shook her head, sighing as she replied, "I just have to talk to my friends about something."

"Something you don't want to talk to them about?"

"No," she couldn't suppress a small smirk at the sentiment, "Something they really don't want to talk about, I think." At the counselor's raised eyebrow Buffy continued, "They really weren't happy with my leaving this past summer. Now they want to know about a friend of mine that I met while I was away."

"Ah," Platt nodded in understanding, taking another sip of his coffee before nodding again. "So are you worried about your friends being jealous or them just not wanting to talk about it when they realize when you met your other friend?"

Buffy frowned in thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "I'm not sure."

"Fair enough," Platt allowed as he took another sip of coffee, before nodding to her as they reached his office. "Here's my stop," he pointed out as they stopped outside his door. He offered her a small smile as she nodded in response. "Hey, it won't be that bad, right? Not if they're really your friends. Might be awkward, but that's life."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed in agreement. "I guess it is."

"So will I be seeing you some time next week?"

Buffy bit her lip for a long moment, before nodding hesitantly. "Uh, yeah. I guess. Two o'clock on Tuesday?"

"I'll write you in. Have a nice weekend, Miss Summers."

"You too, Mr. Platt," Buffy nodded, smiling softly as she turned and started down the hallway again, headed for the library.

She'd only gone a few feet though when that smile turned into a frown, and then a wince of pain as a sudden surge of growing anger—hot, ferocious fury—hit her empathetic radar from somewhere nearby.

From Platt's office.

Eyes wide, she was back at his closed door before the thought had fully registered, and burst inside only to bowl someone over.

It was Pete—a friend of Scott Hope's—who glanced towards her just in time for her to see his face shift into some kind of demonic visage of pure rage. His face was swelling with veins rising up, skin sun-scorched red, eyes scowling and his mouth set in an animalistic snarl as he lunged towards Platt, who'd just turned in his chair—a new cigarette lit—in response to her opening the door.

Again, her Slayer-instincts overcame her shock and had her lunging after him, striking him out of the air when his hands were only inches from Platt's face and pinning him half to the psychiatrist's desk, half to the floor in front of it.

"Run!" the Slayer ordered, all of the hesitancy and nervousness she'd been feeling moments before vanishing in the face of a threat, and she grunted as she struggled to hold Pete down while glancing towards the door as Platt—clearly terrified—hurried towards it. "Get Giles!" then all of her focus was on trying to restrain Pete as his surprisingly strong struggles stopped and he started shaking violently, nearly breaking her hold as the shaking seemed to make him stronger: and angrier, fury snarling across her senses. Then she gasped as he abruptly pitched backwards, breaking her stance enough to then fling her over his shoulder towards the nearby windows.

"Hey!" a familiar voice yelled, and Buffy felt a little rush of relief as she thought the cavalry had arrived. But that relief was quickly banished as she looked up to see Oz—and Oz alone—struggling to hold monster-Pete at bay.

With another grunt the Slayer rolled off the counter and onto her feet, wincing as the motion pulled at the now bruised muscles of her upper back: where she'd hit the window hardest. A moment later she was all but throwing monster-Pete away from Oz, deliberately putting herself between her friend and the threat, as she always did. "Where are the others?" she demanded without turning, warily watching Pete growl as he rose to his feet again.

"Don't know," Oz replied shortly, "just saw Platt run outta here towards the library. Thought I should check it out."

Buffy shook her head as she quickly stepped into Pete's attack, redirecting it to toss him towards the back corner of the office, away from her friend and the door. "Go get—"

"No, Buffy. You have to go."

"What?" Buffy demanded incredulously, her eyes wide as she shot a disbelieving look at her friend.

Oz nodded, resignedly, towards the windows. "Rules are about to change."

Also glancing towards the windows as Pete rose again, Buffy's eyes widened as she saw the first sliver of silver peek over the horizon. She jumped away from Oz, towards Pete, struggling to pull him away from her friend as the full moon rose and said friend gave a pained groan.*(1a)

She made the mistake of glancing at her friend, and almost freezing as she saw his eyes change even as the sounds of his bones crunching together—changing—reached her ears. Then her momentarily—foolishly—forgotten opponent punched her in the side of the head—right where Faith had nailed her the night before—sending her to the floor.

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Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Charlie couldn't suppress a groan as he hit the floor again. He really didn't like this 'practicing falling' thing.

"Better."

The genius shot his grinning instructor a heartfelt glare at the compliment, sighing as he was pulled to his feet by Devon again.

"Yeah, man. That was a good one," the energetic, bigger man encouraged as he released him again once Charlie started mechanically walking back toward the slightly smaller mountain of muscle that had been throwing him for most of the evening.

'Rye' nodded when Charlie finally made it to the stop, stepping up onto the small platform they'd made for him to be thrown from onto the well-padded floor that was about a foot and a half below. Gunn claimed it made the height of Rye's throw more comparable to that of a vampire or demons, which was what Charlie was really here for, though his explanation hadn't been quite as concise as Charlie's mental summary of it was. The mathematician himself kind of understood the logic behind all of it: vampires were much stronger than them, and if Gunn's mindset was anything like Annie's then he though Charlie really needed to learn how to avoid them more than fight them. He guessed falling was part of that. But it still hurt.

With that thought in mind he frowned towards Gunn and Devon, who were patiently waiting for him nod that he was ready again while Lily and Alonna played card gamed in the background.

"I thought this wasn't supposed to hurt?"

"When ya do it right, yah." Gunn nodded, smirking at him. "But you've only done it right a few times. 'Course your body's complainin' 'bout when you got it wrong."

"Oh." Charlie sighed, before nodding to Rye and moving forward, trying to force himself to relax as the much bigger man easily picked him up and tossed him up several feet in the air. As he tucked his head in and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to maneuver the angle of his fall so that he'd land on his arms or shoulder, his all too active mind started evaluating the directions Gunn had given him for falling again. Logically they made perfect sense. Your head was the area of your body you wanted to protect the most, so landing on it would be bad. Crossing your arms made sense because it made you fight the instinctive reaction of trying to catch yourself with them, which all of his instructors agreed would lead to bad things: like broken arms, wrists or hands. Of course, logical or not, his shoulder still protested as it hit the floor, and was still screaming at him as he continued rolling the fall out. As he finally lost momentum from his rapid descent—which probably took less then a few seconds—he let himself roll to a stop on his back, groaning as his entire upper body protested the prolonged abuse. "Owe..."

He heard several of the others in the room laugh softly, clearly restraining themselves, but also he knew all of them were sympathetic to the mild pain they knew he was in. After a moment Alonna's voice cut through the air, gentle but firm, which seemed a little odd coming from a fifteen-year-old, but then she had led an active roll in her brother's 'gang' for a few years now, and her childhood had undoubtedly been much more dangerous than Charlie's ever had.

"Why don't you try to teach him some actual Krav', Gunn?"

"But he needs—"

"He's learning how to fall pretty well. But I don't think his arms can take much more of it. He's gonna be bruised and sore for at least a few days as it is."

Lily continued where Alonna had left off, "And it would be good for him to learn a little more before the night's out, wouldn't it? Plus you'll probably have to mix a bunch of stuff into every lesson since you're only planning on meeting two or three times a week anyway."

After a moment, Gunn sighed and Charlie sent a silent thanks to the two women as his instructor continued. "I guess. OK, man, let's try somethin' else for now. We'll work on fallin' some more on Monday, K?"

Charlie moaned as he felt Devon carefully pulling him up again, doing that same quick check-over he'd been doing every time he'd picked him up. Probably checking to make sure Charlie hadn't broken anything. Which was a good thing, since the mathematician's bruised arms had started going semi-numb a while ago in response to the recurring pain. Still, he nodded in Gunn's direction as he opened his eyes, nodding also to Devon in thanks as the bigger man stepped away once he'd checked him over and helped him find his feet. "Sure, Gunn. What now?"

Before Gunn could replied, Lily cut in again, sounding a bit worried. "Are you sure you're up for more now, Charlie?" When everyone looked at her, the blonde shrugged, her worried gaze fixed on their curly-haired friend. "You didn't get much sleep last night 'cause you had to work on that werewolf thing for Annie, right?"

"I'm fine," Charlie offered her a soft smile and a nod, then shook his head as clear skepticism crossed her face. "Really. I had the cab driver stop at a Starbucks before I got here. Got three double-espresso's. So I've got plenty of energy."

Now everyone was frowning at him in concern.

"What'd you eat?"

Charlie blinked as he redirected his attention back to Gunn. "What?"

"What'd you have for dinner before comin' here?"

"Uh, I didn't have dinner. I was just gonna make something when I got home."

After a moment the older man shook his head and rolled his eyes as he turned his attention to Alonna and Lily. "You two think you could whip somethin' up for him? He really should have eatin' before comin' here."

Both women nodded and rose to their feet, tossing their cards down on the table to cross the floor to the stairs again, headed for the kitchen the House's kitchen on the second floor.

"Somethin' light," Gunn called after them, before turning to Charlie and jerking his head towards the empty chairs around the table. "Have a seat. You can take a breather while we set up for the next lesson."

"I can hel—"

"Nah, we got it, man," Devon cut in, shaking his head as his big hands gently steered Charlie over towards the table, releasing him as Charlie started moving on his own. "You should rest. Drink some of y'ur water."

"But—"

"Devon's right, Charlie. Go rest." Gunn ordered, and Charlie instinctively obeyed as he heard a clear tone of command in his new teacher's voice, something he'd gotten used to hearing occasionally from his parents over the years and a little less frequently from his brother, but much more similar to the occasional commands Annie would issue. Then again, Annie and Gunn were undoubtedly much more dangerous individuals than his family members, and undoubtedly far more accustomed to issuing commands that many people would obey.

Charlie sank into one of the vacated, surprisingly comfortable chairs with a sound that was something in between a sigh of relief and a grunt of pain. When Gunn shot him a pointed look and nodded towards the nearby water bottles, Charlie easily conceded defeat and snagged an unopened bottle, wincing slightly as his hands protested even the slight motion of twisting the cap around to break the outer seal. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes as he gulped down half the bottle, only aware of just how thirsty he really was when the first drop of water hit his dry tongue. A moment later he set the half-empty water bottle down and couldn't suppress a frown as a complaint from a formerly quiet part of his body made itself known, then he sighed. It certainly felt like the headaches he tended to get when dehydrated—more often then not in the summer when he got caught up in some math or went hiking and didn't bring quite enough water with him or just got distracted and forgot to drink it regularly—so his friends were clearly right. He did need rest, and water.

Nonetheless, Charlie closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths in through his mouth and out through his nose, willing the presently dull pain to subside for at least a little while. All of the supernatural 'experts' said he had to learn this. So he would.

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Platt's Office, High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Buffy moaned as consciousness started to return, wincing as the bump that had knocked her out—hopefully only a short time before—let her know that Slayer-healing hadn't kicked in yet with a sharp burst of pain to the sensitive spot right between her eyes. Before she could give her head's complaint more thought, a loud crash from just a few feet away made her jerk her head up—wincing as that was a motion her head did not like—to see monster-Pete and werewolf-Oz had just destroyed Mr. Platt's office chair while they continued to wrestle. Their growls were completely animalistic as they grappled with one another and Buffy winced again—this time in sympathy while she forced herself to her feet—as the werewolf's jaws closed around the other changling's arm and Pete's scream pierced the air.

Even as the somewhat cynical wondering of whether Pete would become a werewolf when the next full moon rose crossed her mind, Buffy was dashing forward to grab the scruff of Oz's neck with one hand. She quickly tossed him away as he let go of Pete's arm with a snarl, and turned to deflect the blow Pete aimed at her head even as she heard the door to Platt's office burst open behind her.

"Oh bloody hell," Giles grumbled behind her while she heard Faith moving closer.

"Need a hand, B?" the brunette jokingly asked before kicking Pete's feet out from under him as the older Slayer took a step back.

"Thanks," Buffy nodded, her breathing a little quicker than she was used to in a fight, probably because of her head injury. "Careful, he's stronger than most vamps and he gets stronger—" she winced as she nodded towards the changling as his entire body started jerkily shaking, "when he shakes like that."

The younger Slayer nodded in understanding as she followed Buffy's example of dropping into a fighting stance, "Got—"

"Watch out!" Willow yelled from by the door, but both Slayer's were already ducking and werewolf-Oz sailed right over their heads and into monster-Pete as he rose.

"What is this?" Buffy shook her head as she and Faith also rose again, but paused to stare at the grappling, growling changlings. "Some kind of testosterone thing?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, B," Faith suggested, also shaking her head.

"You've gotta stop them!" Willow insisted, the slightly hysterical edge in her voice momentarily drawing both Slayer's eyes even as Giles grabbed her shoulders in a gentle hold to keep her back from the fight. "Oz—!"

"Xander, the dart gun!" the Watcher ordered and the teenager obediently raised said gun, aiming at the nearby squabbling monsters, but then pausing with a frown.

"Uh, which one am I—"

"Pete watch out!" Debbie, who'd apparently followed the Scoobies into the room earlier, tackled Xander from behind and actually managed to pin him to the floor—the gun underneath both of them—through sheer determination even as Willow and Giles tried to pull her off him to get to the gun.

A few feet away, both Slayers stared at the pile-up before Buffy shook her head, sparing the nearby monsters a cautious glance before meeting Faith's eyes again. "Get the gun an—"

The sound of a tremendous crash drew all eyes to the two changlings again as the pair went through the windows, quickly dropping out of sight as gravity pulled them down to the ground level that was thankfully only one story below.

"You get the wolf!" Buffy finished her order while running for the window, leaping up on the counter even as she heard Faith moving in the opposite direction, towards the pile-up and she glanced back for only a moment—to see Faith pluck the struggling Debbie off of Xander and toss her towards the door where a staring and startled Mr. Platt caught her while Xander willingly relinquished the tranquilizer gun to Faith—before she was out the window herself. Halfway down she swore under her breath as she saw monster-Pete had finally decided that he was actually in danger—probably more from the werewolf that wanted to eat him than the Slayers—and started sprinting away much more quickly than any human should be able to run. Werewolf-Oz looked up at her and undoubtedly seeing Faith coming out the window with the gun behind her, took off in the opposite direction.

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Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Charlie groaned, "Owe…" he looked up from his place on the floor, flat on his back on the too-thin mats at his new teachers. "I though you said we were gonna start with something easy?"

Gunn was very obviously biting back a smirk as he raised an eyebrow, "This move's about as easy as I get, kid." Then he shrugged. "You might want to look in ta somethin' like Tai Chi or Yoga, to get in better shape. But I really thought you'd be a little better at this. Your friend, Annie, said you can be pretty spry when you need ta be."

"He almost got the start a the move right, bro'," Alonna pointed out from where she and Lily were watching while playing checkers away from the mats, the empty bowls from the soup they'd brought up a short while before piled up next to them.

"So why am I on the floor?" Charlie asked.

"Ya weren't suppose to lean that far forward, doc. Just far enough to throw me off balance so you could attack my head with your elbows." Devon told him helpfully, and Gunn nodded in agreement.

"Oh." Charlie sighed, then frowned. "Wait? When did you talk to Annie?"

"She called for me a few days ago," Gunn shrugged. "We talked for a few minutes."

"About what?"

"The Watch, mostly. Vamps an' scary monsters. Girl's got some good ideas for patrols."

"And me?"

"Well, yeah." Gunn shrugged again, "Hey, she's just lookin' out for one a her own, man. I respect that." Then he shook his head. "Gotta say though, I really thought her voice'd be deeper."

"What?"

"I don't know. I think 'super-demon-hunter-chick,' and I picture someone like Chyna, I guess. You know: strength and all that. For most of the call she sounded like a valley-girl." (1)

Lily laughed before Charlie could, "She kind of is a valley girl, Gunn. By birth, anyway."

"Yeah," Charlie confirmed, sighing even as he tried to figure out if there was a way to get up that wouldn't make his back hurt more. "She only became the Slayer when she was fifteen. When the Slayer before her died and her first Watcher came."

"Watcher?" Gunn frowned, "You mean like the Watch—"

"No. The Watchers Council is a very old organization that exists to supposedly help the Slayer fight against evil."

"'Cept a lot of the mages I've met really don't think much of 'em," Lily interjected, making Charlie's frown deepen.

"No, they don't, do they?"

"Why not?"

Charlie sighed again as he answered Gunn's question, finally deciding to just stay on the floor until Gunn made him get up, as rest could only be a good thing, right? "I don't know. I'm trying to find that out. Mostly, they just seem to do all the research for the Slayer. Weaknesses of demons, tracking supernatural activity and stuff. Training." Then he smirked, "Though if her voice surprised you, I really want to be there when you meet her in person."

"Why?"

"I don't think you could find a girl less like any of the female wrestlers you can name," the mathematician shook his head gently. "Of course, magic changes that, doesn't it? Chyna couldn't throw you a tenth of the distance that Annie can, either."

"Really? Man," Gunn shook his head. "I mean, I know she's supposed to be stronger then most vamps, but—"

"She seems to be getting stronger, too. And faster." Charlie sighed. "At least that's what she thinks. And some of it may just be from experience, but her powers may be growing too."

"How does she control her strength?" Alonna asked, and Charlie shrugged again. "I always wondered that about the supers in cartoons."

"Most of the time she's only two or three times stronger than normal. But when she's fighting her strength and speed increase, the longer the fight the more they increase. She's trying to gain control over that. Make herself stronger and faster sooner, and pull it back sooner afterwards, but I don't think she's really got it yet. Has to train a lot more."

"Speaking of training, isn't it about time you got up, man?" At Charlie's pained look, the older man chuckled and held out a hand, "Here."

With another sigh, Charlie reached out and grabbed his friend's forearm, letting himself be pulled up and pushing himself the rest of the way as he found his feet. "Th—" he stopped abruptly as a strange, overwhelmingly cold feeling flooded his senses, followed immediately by a wave of momentary euphoria that quickly gave way to pure and total pain and terror, stealing his breath.

"Charlie, you OK?" he heard Gunn ask, but didn't answer.

Suddenly realizing the only place that the strange feelings could be coming from, even as he drew frantic gasps for breath—for some reason he didn't feel like he was breathing enough and he didn't think it was just shock from the emotional onslaught—Charlie closed his eyes and frantically reached for his bond with Annie, not entirely sure how he did it, but knowing he could find it because it was an emergency. As he reached it, he felt something inside of him rise up on a surge of pure determination.

And then his legs collapsed underneath him, his mind barely registering his friends' scared shouts as his mind spun into complete darkness.

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Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Buffy kept half of her focus on keeping her breathing slow and even, and only some of her attention on her Slay-dar while she scanned the woods around her, super-sharp eyes following large footprints in the forest floor, broken branches, twigs and other signs of a rampaging monster passing through. How had she lost him? He hadn't even had a full minutes head start!

A familiar, frightened voice drew her attention from closer to the school than she'd thought he would head and Buffy turned towards it, belatedly recognizing both Debbie and Pete's arguing voices. The second clearly still enraged and the other terrified.

"Pete—I-I didn't—"

"You're nothing but a waste of space!"

"No! No Pete plea—!" Debbie's frightened cry was abruptly cut off with the sound of a distinct 'snap' echoing through the woodland as Buffy finally reached the pair.

Buffy stopped abruptly as a bizarre sensation flooded her empathetic sensations—washing away Debbie's terror, Pete's rage and Buffy's own pain with a flood of something else. Something completely different from anything she'd—no. The Slayer stopped as she realized what it was, her mind moving inward momentarily even as her eyes continued to stare at her target and his victim.

It was something she had felt before.

The night she faced The Master.

The night she'd died.

Buffy shook her head to clear it and watched wide-eyed in horror as Debbie dropped from her monstrous-boyfriend's murderous hands and landed limply on the forest floor. The other blonde's eyes were also wide and staring, but unseeing as they stared right through the Slayer from an awkward angle that a functional neck could not allow.

"Oh God..." Buffy shook her head as an icy cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, the momentary bliss of release after pure panic gone as quickly as it'd come, harried away by the realization of what it'd meant.

Debbie was dead.

Buffy had failed her.

Before her mind could go any further down that path she was dodging away from Pete as her Slay-dar signaled an incoming hit, managing to deflect it but still sent sailing several feet through the air into a nearby tree from the force of the blow.

"All the same!" the demonized-teenager was snarling at her as he tried to hit her again, his fist ramming at least six inched into the tree she'd dodged away from as he missed but he pulled it back out a mere moment later with inhuman ease. "All of you whores! All the same!"

The Slayer dropped down towards the ground under another punch and kicked his feet out from under him, but he caught her leg on the way down and swung her towards the nearby tree, slamming her face-first towards the place he'd just punched. Buffy grunted as she only just managed to keep her face from hitting, twisting to let her shoulder—which would probably be heavily bruised later—take the blow, then pushing quickly grabbing hold of the tree to pull away from her captor and swing her free foot towards his head, flipping away as he let go of her leg to avoid the blow.

Buffy watched monster-Pete as he backed several steps away, using the momentary reprieve to try and shake and stretch out several sore spots even as her eyes remained locked on her adversary. She frowned in confusion as he wrapped his arms around a massive tree trunk, then her eyes widen in shock as he somehow pulled the gigantic tree up out of the ground with a single tug of his convulsing limbs. She tried to get out of the way as he swung the Sycamore* at her but was easily caught up in it's far-reaching branches and slammed into another nearby tree. There she slid down to the ground in a slight daze, groaning even when the weight of the massive club dropped down onto her lap even as she tried to shake herself out of her disorientation. (2)

"You're all the same." Monster-Pete repeated again, though this time he sounded a little bit clearer: not quite as much snarling.

Then Buffy reflexively gasped—or at least tried to—as monster-Pete's supernaturally strong, massive hands closed around her throat and dragged her out from under the tree effortlessly. Already disorientated from what was probably a concussion—either from when Pete'd thrown her into the wall earlier, or any of the other times her head had recently met stationary objects at uncomfortable speeds—and her strength rapidly fading along with consciousness as lack of air became more and more important, her attempts to break his hold totally ineffective.

As her vision blurred along the edges she allowed the first vestige of real panic to escape her subconscious into conscious thought. Suddenly Charlie's face flashed before her eyes, followed by a wave of complete calm.

For a moment she felt the Slayer's ferocious snarl ring through her mind, but then darkness came for the second time today.

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Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Faith sighed as wolf-Oz finally collapsed under the influence of two tranquilizer darts. After handing the gun to Giles she bent down to pick the unconscious werewolf up. She nodded in thanks to Xander and Willow as both hurried to help her, Xander grabbing his feet while Willow got his head.

A sudden surge of fear rushed through her, momentarily dispelling all other thought and she dropped Oz, making the two Scoobie cry out in surprise.

"Gee, ya think a little warning next t—"

"Faith?" Willow cut Xander off, gently laying her boyfriend's wolf-shaped head down as she rose to study the brunette, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, y-yeah, five-by-five, Red," the Slayer replied, shaking her head to clear it. "That was—" she stopped abruptly as she was struck by the horrifying realization of the only place that terrible feeling could have logically come from. "B!"

"Wait, what?" Xander asked as he, Giles, and Willow stared at her, expressions becoming all the more bewildered or worried as the Slayer started to move away without answering. "What about Buffy? Faith!"

Faith yelled back to the three over her shoulder from the corner in the hallway, "Get him in the cage!" then she really took off, running as fast as she could in the direction that the feeling had come from, trying to suppress the terror come from her own heart.

She wasn't ready to lose Buffy. She wasn't ready to be the chosen one. Maybe some day she would be, but not today. It was too soon. B and Mrs. Summers were the closest thing she had ever had to a real family. Even Di hadn't really felt like family, as she'd always maintained that 'professional relationship' the Council insisted on. She wasn't ready to lose that. She'd only had it for a few weeks!

She whipped a hand across her rebellious eyes to wipe away the tears that were starting to leak out, shaking her head angrily as she tried to make herself run faster, pushing the limit even the Slayer was comfortable with as she flew around corners, headed back to the library, in the direction Buffy had gone after the other beast.

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Somewhere…

Charlie stared around him in confusion, frowning at the realization that he really had to be dreaming. If only because he was surrounded by nothing. Literally nothing. Just pure, blank, blackness. Like what one might expect a vacuum to feel like, except he wasn't having any trouble breathing anymore so maybe it was just some kind of figurative void that his mind was creating?

"Think your mind is creating this, or mine?"

The mathematician's eyes widened and he spun around towards the familiar voice, eyes wide even as a relieved smile lit up his face. "Annie!"

"Hi Charlie," the blonde replied with a warm smile, before sighing as she glanced around them again. "So your mind or mine?"

"Are you okay?" Charlie demanded, briefly ignoring the inquiry in favor of a far more important one.

The Slayer's eyes came back to his and her face quickly melted into a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." Then she frowned slightly, shaking her head as she looked around again. "I think... We're not dead are we?" She shot an anxious glance at him as she demanded, "What happened to you before you, um, came here?"

"N-No, I, uh," the young genius paused in thought, shaking his head as he took a deep breath to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I was just at my defense lesson at The House and then it was cold and I—" he bit his lip and shook his head again before quickly continuing. "You couldn't breath. I was—You were scared. What—?"

Annie cut him off with a sigh. "I thought it'd be something like that." She looked down for a moment, then shook her head as she met his gaze again. "Do you think that i-if I died, would you be pulled with me? B-By the bond?"

Charlie stared at her for a moment, horrified by the idea. Although he knew it was the idea of Annie dying that really bothered him, not him dying with her. "I-I don't know. I don't—"

"Always alone." An unfamiliar, female voice that was softer than a whisper interrupted him, drawing both there eyes to a distant source of light.

As their eyes fixed on it their surroundings changed—either they were moving closer to the flickering light or it was coming to them, but—suddenly they were standing beside a flickering fire. Then their eyes immediately went to the figure on the other side of the flames.

"Who—"

"I'm afraid you won't get many answers from her," another female voice gently cut Annie off and both turned towards it.

A woman with shoulder-length black-hair and dark eyes appeared in a shower of glittery-lights that continued to linger around her and Charlie frowned as Annie took a step back. When he glanced back at her his frown deepened as he saw that her face had gone shock-white and her eyes were wide with palpable surprise.

"Annie, what—?"

Annie ignored him, her eyes never moving from the older, sparkling woman's face. "Ms. Calendar?"

"Hello Buffy," the older woman smiled, nodding to her before her eyes rose to Charlie's, "And you must be Charlie. I'm Janna Kalderash," at his confused look, she added. "Buffy knew me as Jenny Calendar."

"Um, nice to meet you, Ms. Calendar," Charlie replied a little uncertainly, still wary because of the strange setting and Annie's reaction.

"Call me Jenny, please," the glowing woman insisted. "I know this probably seems strange to you. To both of you. So we'll try to keep it as informal as possible."

"So we're dead, then?" Annie asked, ostensibly out of the blue to Charlie, but the older woman didn't seem at all surprised as she shook her head.

"No, you're not dead."

"Death is your gift." The primitive's voice interrupted, and all three looked at her she finished, Jenny rolling her eyes while the two teenagers stared.

Charlie shook his head in confusion, "Did she—" he shook his head again, still staring as he brought a hand part way up to point at her but just managed to stop himself, jerking it back down. "Her mouth didn't move." Glancing uncertainly at Annie, just to be sure, he asked, "It didn't, right?"

"Yeah, that was kinda freaky," Buffy agreed, her head tilted slightly to the side in contemplation as she frowned at her predatorily pacing predecessor.

'Jenny's' laugh drew their eyes back to her, but though her laugh sounded pleasant her dark eyes were sad. "Sineya doesn't speak. Not really. She hasn't since—"

"I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute... alone."

"—She was made into The Slayer. And even before then, the 'language' she would have spoken is not really what we'd consider language. And it certainly isn't English."

Annie shook her head, staring at the primitive again. "Wh—?"

"She's the First Slayer?" Charlie cut Annie off, shooting her an apologetic smile when she frowned at him.

"I see you've done some homework," Jenny nodded, smiling softly. "Yes. She was the start of the Slayer Line. The First Slayer."

Annie shook her head, obviously amazed by the idea of the first of those who'd come before her in the Slayer Line, but continuing anyway. "If she can't speak how—" she shook her head, and waved slightly towards the crouching woman, who's dark eyes were still fixed on her and Charlie. "We heard her speak. Twice now."

"No. She did not speak. You heard her thoughts. Your connection to her, as the source of your powers through the Slayer-line, has grown immensely since you bonded with Charlie. She's tied to both of you now much more then she has been to any Slayer in millions of years."

Again, Annie shook her head. "What do you mean 'tied to'?" Her eyes narrowed as she continued, "And how is she tied to Charlie?"

The mathematician shot his over-protective friend a wary look. Though Annie was indisputably his very best friend, there were times she made his brother's occasional bouts of over-protectiveness look mild. Which was strange, since when his older brother had been over-protective it usually involved beating up bullies that stupidly tried to target him in high school. Comparatively, while Annie would certainly annihilate any demonic being that threatened him, she could also do this thing—like she was doing now—where she just radiated 'danger'. Charlie couldn't even tell what it was she did exactly, while physically she was always on guard, usually when she was threatening someone or something she was completely relaxed. If anything, he supposed the only definite physical sign you could see of her protectiveness was the fire it lit in her eyes when incited. He knew it wasn't something he was picking up from the bond with her—though he definitely knew when she was really angry—whoever it was directed at, which was never him, definitely felt it too. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes her size and appearance was a problem, since less-experienced idiots would be inclined to ignore their instincts when looking at her and not recognize her as a threat.

Still, Jenny definitely recognized it, because she clearly drew herself back a little as she raised her hands in a mollifying manner, shaking her head as she answered Buffy's question carefully. "Sineya is connected to Charlie through you. When you gave your blood to him, Sineya was a mostly dormant part of you. But she was part of your very being, and in your blood. She was awakened by the act and sensing how much you wanted to save him, she approved it and bound herself to him as well." The woman slowly lowered her hands back to her sides as Annie thought while she continued. "That's why Charlie healed more quickly. If Sineya hadn't approved, none of your supernatural gifts would've been transferred." Now the woman shrugged, shaking her head at the confused look she probably saw on Charlie's face. "You haven't needed as much sleep as you did before, right? Haven't had many medical problems, and have healed quickly from injuries? You're a little stronger, faster, and probably a lot more agile, too. Not as much as a Slayer, but the signs of Sineya's approval are still there."

"Is that why we can feel other peoples' emotions, too?" Charlie asked curiously.

"No," Jenny shook her head again, bits of light scintillating around her as she did so. "That's really more because of the nature of the blood bond itself, it opened your mind to a sense most humans never develop. And while it may have been strengthened by Sineya, it wasn't a trait she was known to possess. Of course, she mostly avoided interaction with other human beings for most of her life after her village drove her out, too, so we really can't say for sure."

"She didn't have a Watcher, right?" Annie murmured, frowning at the thought. "But The Watchers didn't exist then, either, so why'd her family—"

"People fear what they don't understand, Buffy." Jenny told her gently. "And the other villagers really thought she was a demon, too. Or at least possessed by one, which she kind of was early on. It took her a long time to gain full control of her powers, and she never was completely human again. In her time, demons were a known threat, so her people were probably wise to be afraid."

"What about the people who created her?" Charlie asked and Jenny sighed again.

"The shamans lost control of her when they implanted the essence of a powerful-demon into her captive form. They underestimated just how powerful she'd become. And when she broke free of the chains they'd used to imprison her during the ritual, she fled. But when she returned to her village, seeking the comforts of what was familiar and in turn saved them from attacking vampires, the villagers feared her far more then the vampires. She won, after all, so she was more dangerous. But after that first rejection she never tried to reconnect with her humanity again, instead she fully embraced her destiny. And after her death, her powers and some of her own essence passed onto another girl, whom she guided in dreams." Jenny shrugged. "And it continued that way for millions of years, until the first Watchers, descendents from the shamans of long ago, found a Slayer and convinced her to let them help her. Over time, the Slayer grew more dependent on the Watchers then Sineya, and Sineya's spirit drifted to rest, allowing Slayers of the past and the Powers That Be to enter her descendents' dreams in her stead."

"So we pulled her out of her resting place?" Annie frowned, clearly not liking the idea anymore then Charlie himself did. Surely all of the Slayers deserved whatever peace death could offer them after their all too altruistic lives.

"No." Ms. Calendar shook her head again, "Not in the way you're thinking." The older woman paused for a moment, her gaze inattentive as her thoughts turned inward before her eyes came back to them and she continued. "This," she nodded towards the ancient, war-painted woman that was stalking the other side of the fire. "This isn't Sineya, not really. Sineya's spirit has moved far beyond us, for the most part. And for her to fully return could cause a catastrophic change in the Balance." She raised her hand when both her listeners' mouths opened to question her, silencing them. "What you see here, of both Sineya and myself is more your minds' efforts to understand the knowledge that both the Powers That Be and the piece of Sineya's essence in The Slayer—the memory of its earliest form, along with many that came afterwards—are feeding you. The Powers That Be invoked Buffy's memories of the real Jenny Calendar, hoping that in this form you would be able to accept me as the guide I am meant to be. But I truthfully have no form of my own."

After a moment of waiting for Annie to say something, Charlie finally spoke up when she didn't. "So the real Jenny Calendar is still—"

"At peace. Resting as she has been since her death at the hands of—"

Annie cut her off abruptly with another question, but Charlie had heard enough to remember who Ms. Calendar was to his friend. "So...we're dreaming?"

"In a way, yes. The only difference being the dream is not a product of your own minds but that of outside influences, including each other."

"So...who's mind are we in?" Annie asked, her curiosity following the conversation to the obvious question, which they'd actually been considering a while before. "Mine or Charlie's?"

"Both, actually."

Charlie exchanged a look with his friend, who was clearly just as confused as he was by the black-haired woman's answer, then both turned to her and asked oh so eloquently, "Huh?"

Their guide laughed again. "You are each in your own mind," the woman explained gently, a kind smile making her face warm and welcoming. "But your minds are fundamentally bound together now, by your blood bond. So you influence each other."

"So when Annie was in trouble..." Charlie murmured, his soaring IQ finally flying down for a moment to pick up the train of thought.

"The fragment of Sineya that was called to the surface of the Slayer's powers when you bonded fully woke up, and recognizing the danger, decided to draw from another available power source to help her."

"Power source?"

Charlie nodded in understanding and acceptance. "Me," he murmured quietly, knowing Annie already knew it too. Though she often played the stereotypical 'dumb blonde' act to her advantage, his friend really was a rather brilliant woman when she actually applied her mind to a problem. And the frown on her face was far deeper than Charlie'd ever seen even before he'd made the connection aloud, as the implications of the statements apparently upset her more than Ken's Hell ever had.

"Now wait a second!" Annie demanded, her tone taking a furious edge that he also wasn't accustomed to hearing. He'd heard it directed at vamps and demons a few times before, but that was it. Even when talking to vamps or demons, she'd usually have a smile on her face or a joke on her tongue, the playful and cheery turn taking most of the edge off. "Charlie isn't a power source! He's my friend!"

"And he's someone Sineya cares for also," Not-Jenny reassured her, dark hair swaying back and forth as she shook her head. "That's why your death isn't likely to cause Charlie's own. Sineya wouldn't allow it."

"But she—"

"But she would be more than willing to drain a little of Charlie's energy to ensure your survival."

"But—"

This time Charlie cut her off, gently taking hold of her shoulder—a part of him wondering exactly how physical touch and such worked in this connected-and-invaded-dream while—he made her look at him. "It's OK, Annie. I want to help in any way I can. And if my being tired for a little while is the difference between you're living and dying, I'll be more than happy to take nice long naps as often as I need to."

The blonde shook her head, her eyes wide as she started to object again, "But Charlie—"

"But nothing, Buffy. It's OK. Leave it alone." Charlie shook his head, carefully holding her gaze to make sure she knew he really was completely serious. Though, thankfully, not blinking was a lot easier here since it wasn't a physical necessity.

Apparently using her 'real' name on her had some impact, because she blinked much more quickly than he'd expected her too. She didn't say anything for several long seconds that might have been hours for as much as either of them knew, then Annie finally sighed and nodded, looking away for a moment before nodding again and turning back to their glowing guide.

"But I don't understand. Why did our bond wake, um, her?" Annie asked, nodding slightly towards the ancient Slayer that will still prowling a few feet away. "And you're not real?"

"Oh I'm real. I'm just not really Jenny Calendar as you knew her. The form and the voice and the dialect are all characteristics you're more comfortable with, so that's how the Powers chose to send this—"

"Instead of sending Whistler?" Annie asked, one eyebrow raised.

Charlie frowned at her, sensing that she was almost as confused as he was and was seeking refuge in semi-hostile curiosity, but even knowing that there wasn't much he could do. He was still struggling to keep up too.

"Whistler could not come here," the older woman nodded. "Even ignoring your hostility towards him, he is a living being. A representative of the Powers That Be, yes, but a being of blood and flesh nonetheless. Your minds are not an environment he could handle." She paused in thought for a second, then continued. "And the problem at hand must be resolved here, so—"

"What problem?" Annie demanded, now all-out glaring at the 'woman'. "We can't cut the bond, all of—"

"No. You can't cut it, that's very true." Not-Jenny agreed, smiling gently in an oblivious effort to ease some of the Slayer's fears. "But you do need to develop much better control of the bond. It could become a very powerful weapon, but it could also greatly endanger both of you."

"But you just said Sin—Sinya—she," Annie nodded towards the much older Slayer before continuing. "That she wouldn't hurt Charlie."

Sineya didn't seem at all annoyed by her descendant's difficulties with her name, she was agitated yes, but no more then she'd been the whole time they'd been here, stalking back and forth on the other side of the fire, her head turning each time she did so that neither Annie or Charlie were ever out of her unblinking sight.

Charlie hoped the ancient being—or his and Annie's imagination of the ancient being?—wasn't offended by how uncomfortable her intense stare was making him. While the not-needing-to-blink aspect of their current circumstances had been useful for him a few moments before, now that he'd noticed how intently Sineya was watching him it made him more than a little ill at ease.

"She certainly would not mean to," Ms. Calendar replied firmly, but then shook her head again. "But she presently only really becomes fully-active when one of you is in danger. Only then does she know anything about you really, and even then she can't entirely grasp the world you live in. The modern world is very, very different from the world she knew."

"Well, yeah, but what does tha—"

Charlie cut his friend off gently, "She's right, Annie. If she pulled from either of us at the wrong time—when we're crossing the street, on a ladder or stairs, or driving a car, that could kill us." Then he turned to their 'guide' with a frown, "but what are we supposed to do about that?"

"Train. Develop the bond and learn how to control it. And, right now, you have to let her in."

Both Charlie and Annie looked at the ancient Slayer again, and took a step back in surprise when they saw that she'd stopped stalking now and, while she was still crouched low to the ground she was still as a statue, staring at them.

0 0 0 6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0

Woods near High School, Sunnydale, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Faith drew herself up short as she finally reached her sister-Slayer, staring as the older Slayer moved towards the clearly disorientated monster-man with lethal grace even as he rose from the pile of debris that had probably been created when he'd been thrown through one of the ancient, massive trees nearby. Seeing as the three of them were the only ones there, Buffy had to have been the one to throw him but if she wasn't in trouble what—

The younger Slayer's thoughts ground to a halt again as she finally paid attention to what her Slay-dar was telling her and let realization strike just as monster-man threw a punch at Buffy.

Or at least tried to. Buffy caught his wrist in what deceptively looked like a gentle grip but had to be laced with steel as his fist didn't move an inch forward after she caught him and he clearly couldn't pull back even as his body quaked with his enraged efforts. Then Buffy threw him again. Just picked him up and tossed him through another tree with the one hand that was holding his fist.

Except from what Faith's Slay-dar was telling her, that wasn't Buffy. Not really.

"Faith! Buffy!"

The brunette's eyes were momentarily pulled away from the dangerous dance she'd stepped into halfway through towards the approaching footsteps that rapidly turned into Giles and Willow. Both came to an abrupt, shocked stop a few feet behind her when they got a good look at Buffy and monster-man just as he tried to attack her again and instead of being caught and thrown, his blow was dodged and he was hit with a punch that sent him twice as far into another tree, which he also passed partway through, though this one was old and big enough to stay standing.

"What—" Willow shook her head, "What's going—"

"Where's wolf-man?" Faith cut in, more worried then she'd ever care to let on at the idea of having failed her job by leaving the Scoobies to lock the unconscious werewolf up.

"He's in the cage," Giles quickly reassured her, though his eyes were locked on the older Slayer as the blonde moved slowly towards the other monster.

"Xander's with him," Willow confirmed, also frowning and then gasping as monster-man tried to charge Buffy. Again the blonde didn't even bother catching him, she just dodged gracefully around his fist and kicked him in the side, sending him flying yet again. "What—" she shook her head and started to move forward, "Buffy—"

"I wouldn't, Red," Faith side-stepped to block the redhead's advance, extending an arm slightly to make sure the older teen got the message. "That's not Buffy."

Both Scoobies—at least she thought G-man was kinda a Scooby, too—looked at her, eyes wide as the panic that had drawn all of them in this direction started to seep back into their brains. In the back of her mind Faith wondered how the Scoobies had caged wolf-man and gotten here so fast, but she suspected magic had something to do with it and figured she'd ask later as their Watcher started up.

"What do you mean?" Giles demanded, finally turning to look—or actually, glare—at her.

"I think," Faith bit her lip, hesitating a moment as all eyes went back to Buffy again, just in time to see her send monster-man flying. Again. "I think that's The Slayer."

"What's that mean?" Willow frowned, shaking her head. "Of course Buffy's the Slayer, but—"

"No," Giles cut her off before Faith could, a clear note of wonder in his voice as he continued staring at Buffy. "She means Sineya."

"Sineya?" Willow shook her head, clearly still confused. "Who—"

"The First Slayer, Red." Faith explained quietly. "The start of the Slayer-line."

"Are you sure?" Giles asked, but before Faith could reply all of their eyes were drawn back towards the nearby fight by the sound of loud, distinctive *SNAP*. And they turned just in time to see Buffy's opponent's body drop limply to the ground. Dead.

After a moment's silence, Faith nodded, "I'm sure," then flinched as her quiet murmur drew The First Slayer's attention. All three took a step back as Buffy turned towards them, her eyes glowing and her expression completely blank. Faith had to stop herself from backing up more and instead took a step forward to shield the two unenhanced humans, gulping inaudibly as her senses—both the part of her that was a Slayer and the part that used to be a street kid in Southie*—wanted to back away. But the growing part of her that had already started thinking of the older Slayer as family, as a sister, wouldn't let her. (3)

Still, she had no desire to actually fight the other Slayer; not Buffy and definitely not the First Slayer in Buffy's body.

"Um, G? How do we let her know we're not a threat?"

"Of course we're n—"

"No, Willow, she's right." The Watcher cut the high school student off again, "Sineya doesn't know us. Bow."

Faith blinked, but obediently bowed her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other two bowing deeper—actually bending completely at the waist—and then noting that the other Slayer's glowing eyes were fixed on her, she quickly followed their example. Bowing her head again she then kept going, letting her back fall into the bow while still carefully, worriedly keeping her eyes on the possessed Slayer until the last moment of her descent. Then her Slayer-senses told her to lower eyes, so she did for a just a second, before looking up again and smoothly rising.

She felt a little better as her Slay-dar seemed to register a decrease in the hostility the older Slayer had been radiating moments before, and she visibly saw Buffy's body relax ever so slightly. Though she was still in a familiar resting position that would allow her to take anything they threw at her very quickly, at least it didn't look like she might attack them right away.

"Now what?" Faith whispered out of the corner of her mouth, hoping the Watcher had some way out of this that didn't involve another body bag.

After a moment of contemplation the Watcher replied, "We should try talking to them. To call Buffy back and convince Sineya that it's safe and that she should be at rest."

"Buffy?" Willow immediately called, sounding a little uncertain but clearly wanting to help. "I-It's OK now. You can come back."

The Slayer never even looked at her.

The redhead winced, looking a little hurt as she added, "Please?"

Faith started as she realized the blonde's glowing gaze had been fixed on her the entire time, almost like she wasn't even seeing the other two. "Giles, is it just me or—?" she stopped at the blonde's head cocked to the side in a clear motion of confusion.

"She seems to be reacting to you, Faith," the Watcher agreed almost immediately, probably having noticed himself earlier then she did. "Perhaps she's sensing that you, too, are a Slayer."

"So does that mean I'm a friend or foe?" the brunette asked, unable to keep a note of nervousness out of her voice.

"You've already shown her deference by bowing, and you have made no aggressive movements so I believe she is more confused by your existence then anything else." Giles reasoned. "But as she is only paying attention to you, you may be the only one that can call her back."

"Um, O-OK," Faith nodded, and hesitantly took a step forward, quickly stepping back when the possessed-blonde tensed up again. "Um, hey, uh, Sineya, right?" she licked her lips, not really expecting the ancient spirit to respond, but figuring she should give her the chance to anyway. Then she continued, "Everything's all right now, so do you think you could let B, um, come back? Please?"

The blonde cocked her head to side again, this time moving all the way around from the side she'd cocked it to before to reach the opposite angle. Then she stopped again, still staring and eyes still glowing.

"Try calling Buffy instead," Giles whispered.

Faith nodded again, forcing herself to meet the glowing-gaze straight on again. "Hey B, plan on waking up anytime soon?" she ignored Willow's light kick at her heel.

She opened her mouth to try again, but stopped when the strange, golden light in Buffy's eyes started to fade. The blonde's eyes returned to their normal, brilliant green hue, then rolled back in her head, and Faith darted forward over the space between them, only just managing to catch the older girl before she hit the ground.

Glancing over at Giles and Willow, the younger Slayer shrugged, "I guess it worked?"

0 0 0 2 2 1 6 6 2 5 0 1 9 0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3 0 0 0

Buffy/Charlie's Dreamscape...

Buffy frowned at the guide that looked like her Watcher's dead-girlfriend. "Let her in?"

"How are we supposed to do that?" Charlie asked, clearly just as confused as she was.

The guide smiled softly, "It's very simple really." She nodded towards Sineya. "You just need to accept her. Invite her in and welcome her."

Buffy glanced at Charlie. Meeting his eyes for a second she saw that he was leaving everything up to her. But then again the supernatural was, after all, Buffy's area of expertise.

"She won't harm you," the guide insisted again. "But if you refuse her, she will have nowhere to go, and doing so may disrupt the Slayer Line."

"How?" Buffy frowned, shaking her head. "Am I even really 'in' the Line anymore? I mean, I died and Kendra was Called. She died and Faith was Called."

"True," Not-Jenny allowed with a small nod, then shook her head again. "But you are still a Slayer. And who knows, maybe that original break in the line is what allowed Sineya to awaken in the first place."

"You don't know?" Charlie asked, one eyebrow raised. "Aren't the Powers—"

"There's different levels of Power up there," Not-Jenny glanced briefly upward then looked back at them. "The ones that take part in maintaining the Balance are fairly high up, but they're not omnipotent or omniscient." She shook her head at Buffy. "They really expected you to die at the Master's hand. It was written."

Buffy smirked and shook her head. "I flunked the written. Sorry."

Charlie spoke up again before Not-Jenny could. "So what kind of training are we supposed to get...here?"

"Not here," Not-Jenny shook her head. "Sineya will help you train your bond. Mostly in your dreams, if you welcome her. But she will also be able to see through your eyes at all times, so she may ask questions at random."

"She'll be able to talk?"

Not-Jenny shook her head again at Buffy's question, "She doesn't talk. But she won't have a physical form, she'll be in both of your minds, so she won't need to." She continued before either could interrupt again. "Your bond may be further opened by accepting Sineya, as well, but she should help you control it. At least until you can handle it yourselves. She will also likely effect you in different ways." She nodded at Buffy, "You may find your powers as The Slayer stronger, and may have trouble controlling your strength for a while."

Buffy nodded, shrugging at the thought. "I've been through that. Getting stronger's not a bad thing." Then she nodded at Charlie, "Will Sonya—"

"Sineya," Charlie corrected.

"Right, Sineya," Buffy shot an apologetic look at the statuesque ancient. "Will Sineya affect Charlie at all?"

Not-Jenny shrugged. "We really don't know. The Powers weren't sure what affect your bond would have on him specifically. They knew your blood would certainly save him—"

"That's why Whistler was there?"

"To make everything go smoothly, yes." Seeing the skeptical look on Buffy's face, she added. "The Powers also hoped Charlie would be able to help you recover some of your lost confidence. And they wanted to save Charlie themselves," at the surprised look that crossed the genius's face, Not-Jenny laughed. "You have a very bright future ahead of you, young man. The Powers'd hate to see it lost to a part of the world they never thought you'd encounter."

"So they didn't send the vamps there?" Buffy asked quietly, a part of her always having wondered how many strings the Powers That Be could—and would—pull around her.

"No!" Their guide immediately protested, looking horrified. "Of course not!" she shook her head, and then sighed. "Though there are many evil entities in this world that could have directed the vampires towards him. He has a very clean, bright aura, just like you do. You're both innately very good people."

"Except I'm The Slayer."

"That doesn't mean you're not a good person, Buffy." Not-Jenny stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. "You're afraid that being the Slayer means losing your humanity."

"Doesn't it?" Buffy asked quietly, shaking her head but not moving away when Charlie slipped a gentle arm around her shoulders. "It made me kill A-Angel." She shook her head again, reaching up to swipe with one hand at the tears that were starting to fall. "I loved him so much."

"Yes, you did." Not-Jenny nodded, her voice as soft as a whisper but still clearly audible. "But it wasn't The Slayer or Buffy Summers that brought about Angel's death. It was Evil, in the form of Angelus. Evil tested you, your ability to sacrifice, and you defeated it."

"But—"

"And you can be sure that it certainly isn't something that Angel, himself, would ever hold against you. He understands."

"H-He does?" Buffy asked, eyes wide as Not-Jenny nodded.

"The Powers are taking care of him. But just as Sineya in her true form cannot return to your world, Angel does not belong there, either." The guide continued quickly before Buffy could protest. "You need to move on, child. But that does not mean you need to loose your ability to love. You're so full of love, compassion and hope, even now. It's what allowed you to survive sacrificing so much for the sake of the world and humanity as a whole. What makes you rise to your duty every night and occasionally in the day as well. You love with all your soul. It's brighter than the fire," the guide nodded towards Sineya's campfire, and all three blinked when they saw that the savage-woman had, at some point, sat down Indian-style but was still watching through the flames. Still, Not-Jenny continued, "It's so bright. Blinding. That's why you pull away from it."

"I'm full of love?" Buffy murmured after a long moment of silence, releasing a small sigh of long-sought relief as she allowed her head to fall to the side, resting it on Charlie's shoulder. "I won't lose it?"

"Only if you reject it," the guide confirmed gently. "In many ways, love is pain and the Slayer forges strength from pain. You must love. And give. And forgive. Risk the pain, knowing the rewards of love and friendship are more then worth it. It is your nature."

A heavy silence that could only exist so totally in their imagination hung over and around them for several moments. But then it was suddenly broken.

"Um, hey, uh, Sineya, right?" Faith's voice suddenly echoed around all of them.

The First Slayer rose fluidly to her feet, her gaze staring upward.

"Everything's all right now, so do you think you could let B, um, come back? Please?"

Sineya cocked her head to the side slightly, then turned her gaze back to Buffy and Charlie a clear question in her eyes.

"Will you accept her?" Not-Jenny asked.

Buffy looked at Charlie, who nodded, then sighed. She also nodded and stepped forward. "How do we—? Whoa!" She stopped, blinking in shock as Sineya was suddenly right in front of her instead of a few feet away across the campfire.

The ancient Slayer held out both hands, one towards Buffy and the other towards Charlie.

"Take her hands," Not-Jenny instructed.

After a moment's hesitation, Charlie and Buffy both nodded and reached out, gently grasping the dark Slayer's hands in their own.

"Hey B, plan on waking up any time soon?" Faith's voice echoed around them again.

"Good luck," Not-Jenny murmured, then she disappeared.

Sineya suddenly tugged both of them forward, making them fall towards her.

And everything went dark.

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Angel's House, Los Angeles, California – Friday, September 27, 1996

Charlie groaned as an all-encompassing ache made itself known throughout his body. Every single part of his body was so tired that it hurt.

"I think he's awake," a familiar feminine voice murmured, clear worry dominating her tone. "Charlie? Can you open your eyes?"

That was Lily, he thought.

"Should we take him to the hospital?" a not quite as familiar voice asked, also edged with worry.

Alonna. Gunn's sister.

"And tell them what?" Gunn's voice rebuked.

"That he fainted for no reason!" his sister replied.

"Hush, you two." An older, and also slightly familiar feminine voice ordered. He felt a pressure on his forehead—a hand, he thought—he hadn't been aware of pull away, to be replaced by a cool wet cloth. "Can you open your eyes, Charlie?"

It took him several long moments of struggling, but he finally managed to force his upper and lower eyelids to part, almost wincing when the faint lighting of the room stabbed into his over-sensitive eyes, but finding he didn't have the strength to spare for a wince. As it was he could barely blink, long slow blinks, to try to help his eye adjust.

A crowd of worried eyes and faces were gathered around him. Devon and Rye were watching from the background, not panicked like Alonna and Lily, who were closer to him, but still clearly worried. Gunn, at first glance, didn't seem to be affected at all by the situation, but after a second of watching him he could see that the older man was very tense, and while his face was almost expressionless, his jaw was clenched and he seemed to be fighting the urge to pace, swaying slightly in pace. Ben, the House's Assistant Managers with EMT-training was hovering to one side, across from the witch. The only person who didn't appear to be overly worried, just concerned, was Constance, who was smiling warmly down at him.

"That's it, Charlie. Good job," the older woman murmured, her tone gentle and calm.

Charlie slowly opened his mouth, pushing his dry, cottony tongue out in an attempt to lick his lips so that he might be able to talk, but Constance shook her head, moving the washcloth on his head down to gently wet his lips for him before moving it back.

"Don't try to talk. You can't waste the energy." At the confused and slightly panicked look she could probably see in his eyes, she shook her head. "You lost almost all of your energy not too long ago, Charlie. Your body barely has enough to maintain its life-sustaining functions."

The witch shifted her shoulders slightly, and he followed the motion to her other hand—the one that wasn't dabbing his forehead with a cool, wet cloth—and saw that it was hovering over his chest, where his heart would be. And it was glowing. Slowly, he made his eyes come back up to meet hers as she continued talking.

"I'm feeding you some of my energy now," Constance told him gently, undoubtedly understanding just how terrible feeling so weak physically would make him feel emotionally. If he had the energy to waste on emotions, which he only barely did.

That was probably why she was trying to keep him calm, at least partially. Didn't want him to waste energy on emotions either.

"Several of my coven sisters are on their way here now," Constance continued, her voice still thoroughly kind. "We'll have you back to normal soon."

"Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the hospital?" Lily asked the older witch, breaking the worried silence the rest of the group had held around him since his eyes had opened.

Constance shook her head, shooting a quick glance at the young House manager as she replied. "No. All they could do is put him on life-support and let his body slowly regain its strength while remaining lost as to how he became so weak in the first place. The coven is better equipped to handle this."

"How long—"

Constance cut off Lily's question part way through, her attention focused back on Charlie. "We're going to give you enough energy to get you home to bed, Charlie. And one of my sister's will also be casting a fairly powerful healing spell on you to help you regain your strength tonight while you sleep. But you'll probably still be exhausted tomorrow, maybe for a few days more." For the first time, what was definitely worry crept across her face. "But you'll have to meet with us on Sunday, nonetheless. Lily will drive you in and we'll all meet here in the afternoon."

"Wh—"

Constance interrupted the witch-in-training again, still completely focused on him. "I'm sure you've been working with your bond to the Slayer to some extent before this, but you're going to have to start training with us regularly. To gain some control of the bond, and hopefully boost your natural energy and recovery time with some magical training."

"I thought the Coven wasn't accepting new students any more?" Lily was frowning at the older witch.

"Dr. Eppes's case is a bit special, Lily," Constance laughed lightly, but her eyes were serious as remained she focused on him. "And it really is necessary. Do you understand, Charlie? Blink once for 'no' and twice for 'yes.'"

It took him several long, tense moments to draw up the strength to move his eyes again, but he eventually managed to drag his eye lids shut and open twice over.

"Good," the witch nodded, changing the cloth on his forehead again for another, cooler and wetter one. "Now close your eyes and get some rest. We'll wake you when it's time for you to go home to bed."

"You know we have plenty of beds here." He heard Lily murmured while he focused on dragging his eyes closed again, struggling to remain calm at just how weak he was. "He could sleep—"

"No," Constance refuted the offer. "The wards we've placed around his home are keyed directly to him, and will help him recover much more then the wards that are here. We have to get him home to bed."

"But his parents don't know about—"

"His parents will just think he's tired from his defense class tonight. And he's sick tomorrow."

"Won't they wonder why?" Gunn interjected and Constance sighed.

"No, most…"

Charlie was sure she kept talking, but whatever she said was lost to him as sleep claimed him again.

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Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, September 28, 1996

Buffy couldn't suppress a moan as the first sign of consciousness insistently seized her attention: an angry little drummer man that was trying to destroy her eyes and everything around them.

"Buffy, sweetie?" her mom's gentle voice called, worry clear in her tone as a familiar, comfortingly cool hand settled on her forehead. "It's okay, honey. Can you open your eyes?"

Buffy moaned again, but forced her eyes to open anyway—struggling a little as her eyelids seemed to have merged slightly since she last opened them—and immediately slammed them shut again when the light tried to perforate her irises. "Owe," she whimpered.

"You have a headache."

Buffy grimaced as her mother's soft, concerned observation became part of her trapped little drummer's painful song, and only just remembered not to nod in reply. Nodding—the occasional migraine she'd suffered from before her Calling to Slayerhood had taught her—hurt much more than whispering. "Yeah," her affirmative croak was almost inaudible, but her mother's sympathetic "hmm" confirmed that the original question was almost entirely rhetorical.

"Here," her mom murmured, voice still soft and gentle. "I was drinking some of your herbal tea, have some while I get some medicine."

After a moment's hesitation Buffy slowly forced her eyes open again, wincing as she just as slowly reached for the steaming mug on her bedside table while her mother hurried away.

"Here, I've got it, B," Faith murmured from right next to her, making her jump and moan again as her brain seemed to shake with the motion. "Sorry," the younger Slayer immediately interjected, softening her startled apology halfway through the word: obviously not accustom to dealing with headache-impaired-Buffy, like Buffy's mom was.

"'S OK," Buffy replied, wincing again even as she slowly forced herself up with her elbows, pushing her body up and back until she was leaning against the headboard, then forced her eyes open again to meekly accept her tea from Faith. A few sips later, she squinted at her sister-Slayer, "What happened?"

Faith flinched, "You don't remember?"

"No I—" Buffy stopped abruptly as her mind suddenly flashed back to big hands and no breath.

"B? B, you OK?"

She was pulled out of her momentary flashback as Faith grabbed her shoulder and she only just managed to flinch away before the younger girl could make the mistake of shaking her and jarring her aching head in the process. "How am I ali—here. How am I here?"

Faith flinched again and then licked her lips, looking down for a moment before sighing as she looked up again. "Um, I-I think your mom's gonna call Giles. He was here earlier, but he went back to the library to check on the others 'bout half an hour ago. Do you wa—"

"I want to know what happened," Buffy cut in, unable to keep a note of irritation from seeping into her tone, and also unable to stop the instinctive wince of pain the sound of her own voice drew from her agonized head. She knew what'd happened between her and Charlie, but what'd happened to monster-Pete?

"OK. OK," Faith held up her hands defensively, wincing sympathetically in response to Buffy's own wince before shrugging helplessly as she let her hands drop down to her sides again, part of her attention still obvious on the half-full mug Buffy was only just managing to hold on to as she sipped at the steaming hot, soothing liquid. "B-But I really don't know what happened. You—I felt—" the brunette stopped, shaking her head in clear irritation, which made Buffy wince again as her growing empathetic senses sensed it.

"Calm down," the older Slayer ordered softly, sighing when the brunette frowned at her in mild indignation. "Please, Faith. Just tell me what you do know," she appealed before taking another sip of the soothing tea her mother had been kind enough to leave her. In the back of her mind she kind of wondered what was taking the older woman so long. Yes, Buffy hadn't had a migraine in years, but the medicine cabinet just down the hall had plenty of meds in it. Still, Buffy didn't really want her mother to come back soon anyway. Her head really, really hurt so meds would be good, but she was more than willing to suffer through it for a little while to get some answers.

"I—" Faith shook her head again, swallowing before she continued. "I was scared." She shook her head again at the confused look Buffy sent her. "N-No, I wasn't, at first. I just—I'd just hit wolf-man with the knock-out a-and I felt fine. Little H&H, you know, but fine. Then half a sec later I was just really, really scared and I—" she shook her head again. "I just knew you were in trouble. Told Red and X-man to take care of the wolf and took off. I-I knew where you were. D-Don't know how, but I did. I ran and—I don't even remember the trip in between—I just ran and then I was there and you..."

Buffy waited a moment for her to continue before nervously interjecting, "I what?"

Faith sighed and shook her head again, "Your eyes were glowing and you, you felt different to me. Like, stronger. A lot stronger and a lot more dangerous. Giles said you'd probably woken up the First Slayer, but he didn't know how."

"I don't—" Buffy shook her head, closing her eyes in a minor wince as her brain protested the motion but otherwise ignored it. "I don't remember." Though in the back of her mind, she was starting to suspect what'd happened. If Sineya had 'intervened' like Not-Jenny had mentioned, how far could she really go when doing so?

"Remember what, honey?" her mom asked as she returned, only to blink as both teenagers' eyes flew to her. When neither replied after a long moment's silence she sighed as she moved over to Buffy's bed on the side opposite Faith, holding out a hand that held two large white pills. "Here. Sorry it took so long to find it. We had it packed away under the sink. You haven't had a bad headache in a while."

"No," Buffy agreed quietly as she accepted the painkillers then carefully swallowed one at a time with her tea. "I haven't." She finished off the tea and then relinquished the empty mug to her mother's outstretched hand before asking, "Did you call Giles?"

The elder Summers woman frowned, "No, I didn't. It's after three o'clock in the morning, honey. All of us should get some rest, you especially." She winced as she nodded towards her daughter. "I don't care how fast you're supposed to heal. Those bruises look horrible. And I know you don't like it, and Mr. Giles said it was a bad idea but I still think we should go to the hos—"

"What bruises?" Buffy frowned, unhappy images crossing her mind at a mile a minute even as she quickly sidestepped her mother's hospital speech.

"Ya got some bruises on your throat, B. From where he was choking you, I guess?" Faith told her gently, before raising a hand to tap her own forehead. "Looks like ya got a pretty good bump there too, probably what the headache's from."

"Oh," the blonde replied half-heartedly, not at all reassured by the statement. Visible damage was bad because it meant it was bad enough to take a little while to heal. Most of the bumps, bruises and cuts she got on patrol healed while she was still patrolling, so she wasn't even achy come morning. But bad injuries took longer. She frowned as a thought occurred to her. "How'd we get home, anyway?" she asked, honestly surprised she hadn't woken up in the library—since she'd been knocked out so closed to the school and that's usually where the Scoobies would take her—or the hospital, if her friends were worried enough.

"Carried you," Faith replied, shrugging at the surprised look the blond sent her. "Not like it's hard, B. Super-girls, remember? Strength's not an issue. Might be a little harder for you to carry me since I'm a bit bigger than you, but you're more than strong enough to carry me—or anyone else—for a while, too. I just had to get you to G-Man's car, though, then up the steps from the driveway."

"Yes, it would have been much more difficult for Mr. Giles and I by ourselves," Buffy's mom confirmed with a small smile for the brunette. "Faith's been a big help this evening." Then she frowned at the younger girl. "You should get some sleep, though, Fai—"

"Nah," the brunette shook her head in response. "I've still got a few hours left in me. Why don't you catch some Z's, Mrs. S? I'll watch B for the rest of the night and then you can take over in the morning?"

"I don't need to be watch—"

"Yeah, you do, B." Faith cut in—surprisingly before Buffy's mom could—rolling her eyes when the older Slayer shot a glare at her. "You do, B. Head injuries can do all sorts of wacky stuff to you. And if you start shaking we're definitely gonna head to the hospital. Now that you've come out of your little coma, we're gonna start waking you every hour, too. Just to be safe."

Buffy watched her mom nod, tiredly, in agreement.

"She's right, Buffy." Then the older blonde looked at Faith. "I'll try to get some sleep. Wake me if—"

"Anything happens, got'ch'ya," Faith nodded, shooting the older woman a warm smile that looked a little odd from the younger teen, since most of the smile's Buffy'd seen on her face were either meant to be seductive when she was partying or were a result from successful Slayings, extremely excited with the same sexual undertone. "Sleep tight, Mrs. S."

"Thank you, Faith." Then her Mom smiled at her too, "Sleep well, Buffy."

"Night, Mom." Buffy waited a few seconds after her Mom left, until she heard the older woman rummaging around in her own room, getting ready for bed, before she turned her eyes back to Faith. "Wh—"

"You should really be gettin' some rest, B." Faith cut her off softly, and shrugged when Buffy frowned at her. "'Sides, you already know most everything I know. I mean, I could try to tell ya some of the things G-man said, but I really didn't get most of it."

"What about Sineya?"

"One of the scariest things I've ever seen," Faith replied immediately, then frowned at her. "How did you—" then she shook her head, and nodded towards Buffy's nearby back-pack. "Your secret phone vibrated once a few hours ago, by the way. 'Bout an hour after we got you back here."

Buffy nodded, knowing Charlie had probably woken up before her. "Did you—"

"I didn't answer it. Didn't even look for it," the younger Slayer reassured her, shaking her head again. "And really, B, couldn't you at least go to sleep for a little while? Only thing that's gonna change if you get a few more hours shut eye is that you'll feel better when you interrogate all of us in the morning."

Buffy chuckled softly, then sighed as she let her eyes fall shut. "Fine. Good night, Faith."

"Night, B."

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Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Saturday, September 28, 1996

Charlie frowned as listened to the phone ring, waiting for it to be picked up while hoping he'd found the right number. Annie wasn't answering her phone, and he didn't know if Mrs. Summers knew anything about him.

"Hello?" an older man's voice—tinted ever-so-slightly with a British accent—finally answered after the fourth ring. Annie's Watcher, at the very least, now knew about him from the analysis he'd sent the Slayer yesterday to help their friend, Oz.

"Hello, is this Dr. Giles?"

"Yes, to whom am I speaking?"

"Good afternoon, Dr. Giles. This is Charles Eppes, I believe A—Buffy introduced you to some of my work recently?"

After a moment's silence, the Englishman replied smoothly, "Ah, Dr. Eppes, yes. Thank you for your help. Young Daniel was most relieved by it."

"You're very welcome," Charlie replied, smiling slightly. "I'm glad to help..." Then he trailed off into another moment of silence, not entirely sure of how he wanted to continue this.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, yes," Charlie replied, nodding as he struggled to find how he wanted to explain this. "Did, um, did Buffy tell you how we met?"

"Not yet, no. I'm afraid we've all been a bit distracted lately. And Miss Summers is still a little under the weather."

"She's sick?" Charlie's frown deepened. Though that was part of the reason he'd finally decided to call his friend's Watcher, he'd been hoping she just wasn't answering her cell phone because she'd forgotten to charge it or something similar.

"She had a very rough night, I'm afraid."

Charlie nodded again, his frown deepening as he brought his free hand up to rub the space between his eyes for a moment, the dull headache he'd had all day—accompanied by various other aches all over his body—had easily convinced his parents that he had the flu. It made sense that Annie wouldn't be feeling that well either, she was the one that was in the near-death situation in the first place. "Is she all right?"

"She will be," the older man reassured him, his voice taking a slightly gentler, warm tone for a moment then he'd been using previously. "Is that why you're calling?"

"Um, yes. She wasn't answering her phone or email, so I was worried."

"No one was answering the phone?" Now Giles sounded worried. "Her mother and Faith should be there, when did—"

"Oh, no, not her house phone. Her cell phone, sorry."

"Her cell phone?"

Charlie winced again as he realized Annie hadn't told anyone about her mobile phone. "Yeah, her mobile phone. I gave her one before she left so that we could keep in touch." He hurried on, hoping to sooth any hurt feelings the Watcher might have at his charge's neglecting to tell him about the tool. "I think she only uses it for that, since most of her friends don't have cell phones. And she has it off a lot of the time, but usually she returns my calls within at least a few hours. So I was worried."

"I see."

Despite the shortness of the statement, Charlie was relieved to note that the older man didn't sound hurt anymore. And he also sounded warmer again as he continued.

"Well, Buffy will be resting for most of the weekend, but she should be back on her feet by Monday in time for school, which will undoubtedly vex her to some extent, but there you have it."

Charlie laughed, "Yeah, missing the weekend will probably annoy her. Still, it could be worse."

"Indeed," Giles sighed in agreement. After a moment's pause he continued, "Is there anything else?"

"Um, yes, actually." Charlie bit his lip for a moment, not sure if this was a good idea—as in Annie might not like it—but he thought it should be done. "Do you know of any time next week I could possibly meet with, um, you and all of A—Buffy's other friends?" He hurried on before the older man could reply. "Not for an emergency or anything like that, I just thought it'd be nice to get to know everyone she's talk about. And maybe give her the chance to talk more about the last few months."

"Yes, that might very well be a good idea. After Buffy has recuperated, of course."

"Of course," Charlie immediately agreed, then bit his lip for a second of thought, before continuing. "So you figured out who killed, um, the boy in the woods?"

He waited for several long seconds while Dr. Giles figured out how much he could entrust Charlie—a very intelligent stranger the Watcher knew only through an analysis his Slayer had handed him that very morning—before the older man finally sighed. Maybe not deciding he was trustworthy, but at least deciding he deserved to know something after all the work he'd put into the problem.

"Yes, actually. We did. Or, to be more precise, Buffy did. She was able to stop the monster from killing his intended second victim."

"Was it some kind of demon?"

"No," the Watcher sighed, "actually it was another student. Pete Clarner.*" (3)

"He was a demon?"

"Not precisely, no. He was more of a changeling, or actually, I suppose mutant is the best word, one under the demonic influences of the nearby Hellmouth. Though the mutation itself was originally brought on by his own instruments."

"What instruments?"

"Mr. Clarner was apparently a very gift chemist. According to Oz, the young man had done exceedingly well in all of his science classes until this year."

"What changed this year?"

Again the Watcher sighed, "Willow and Oz were able to find Mr. Clarner's lab books, and from what I can tell he'd mixed a number of chemicals. Some of his additions were mystical in nature, which may have attracted the Hellmouth's attention, but the primary ingredients were steroids similar to testosterone, attempting to make himself stronger."

"AAS's, you mean?" Charlie asked after a moment's thought.

"Pardon?"

"Anabolic-androgenic steroids*," the mathematician elaborating, struggling slightly to remember the exact terms from the numerous science courses he'd taken over the years. That statistics associated with them were, of course, easy. The names and histories, not quite so much. "They're steroids for building up muscles by increasing protein synthesis within cells." (4)

"Yes, I believe that it was something along those lines. Though Oz and Willow are honestly much more adept at reading such material then I am. It's been a number of years since I took any chemistry classes and I've had little use for them since."

Charlie chuckled, "Understandable. My weakness is English, specifically spelling, which I wish was something I could do without, but luckily spell-check has been invented."

"Quite," now Dr. Giles chuckled, clearly amused. "I could have Willow copy Mr. Clarner's notes and send them to you through the, um, Internet, if you'd like?"

Charlie blinked, surprised by the offer, but then quickly nodded and replied, "I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"No, thank you. Further understanding of exactly what Mr. Clarner did may help us ensure it doesn't happen again. What's more, Willow—who was kind enough to help me research your credentials and whatnot—is very eager to meet you." Dr. Giles sighed. "It is very likely, of course, that his extreme reaction only occurred because he was making the concoction and treating himself with it directly over the Hellmouth, but that's all the more reason we should know what to watch for to see that it doesn't happen again."

"Of course," Charlie nodded easily in agreement. "I'll take a look at them as soon as I get them." After a moment he sighed, "It's sad though. AAS drugs were originally created to help people fight cancer and AIDS, stuff like that. It's only when abused that the steroids lead to violence, mania and psychosis."

Dr. Giles also sighed, "Yes, that is a pity," he agreed. "Oz was friends with Mr. Clarner's girlfriend, and believes Mr. Clarner may have been afraid of loosing the young lady. But thanks to his concoction he ended up killing her."

Charlie winced, half-afraid to ask how Annie handled that, knowing how hard she took her duty and the all too frequent occasions when she couldn't save someone. "Is Buffy okay with what happened?"

"With wha—Actually, I hadn't really thought to ask. She was still quite tired when I spoke to her just before noon today. I will have to check though. She's likely to be feel quite guilty when she realizes she killed Mr. Clarner as well, for he was essentially human."

"But you said the Hellmouth—"

"Almost certainly influenced the course of events, yes. Whether it was the negative—demonic, really—energies it radiates effecting his emotions, or on the potion itself, or many of those any many other factors combined. Still, he was originally human. Though thankfully the Council has agreed label him mutationally-demonic to let the matter slide."

Charlie frowned deeply at the last comment. "What'd you mean? Why would the Council care—"

"The Slayer is not supposed to harm human beings, Dr. Eppes—"

"Call me Charlie, um, or Charles," the mathematician interjected, adding the last as he sensed the slightly more formal first name might be more comfortable for the Watcher. While a part of him didn't want to hear where Dr. Giles explanation was going, the rest of him too curious to stop listening.

"Charles," Dr. Giles agreed graciously. "The Slayer is supposed to protect human beings, not hurt them, and certainly never kill one. There are, in fact, certain procedures in place for just such an unfortunate event. But as I said, the Council has ruled that the influence of the Hellmouth on the potion rendered Mr. Clarner demonic."

"How kind of them."

"Quite." Dr. Giles agreed, though it didn't sound quite as sincere as his earlier use of the word had. After a moment's silence, he asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you, D—Charles?"

"No, thank you, Dr. Giles. But could you please ask Buffy to call me when she's feeling better? And maybe get back to me on a good time to visit?"

"I would be delighted," the older man agreed. "Though I must add one more thing."

"Yes?" Charlie asked, a part of him knowing what was coming next even before the usually mild-mannered Englishman started speaking, the collected, solicitous tone he'd been speaking with disappearing to give way to a much harder, ice-edged tone.

"Just a small warning that is undoubtedly not necessary but must be said nonetheless. I am Buffy's Watcher and she is my Slayer, and also my ward. I will always protect her to the best of my ability, limited as it may in some cases be. If you harm her in any way, the Council has numerous resources at its disposal to ensure your body will never be found. As do I."

Charlie blinked at the icy threat, then let a wide smile spread across his face as he replied. "Well, my brother's an FBI agent, so that might be a bit more difficult then you'd expect, but I do appreciate the sentiment. And I'd never hurt Annie."

"Annie?" the warning-voice abruptly disappeared, replaced by confusion.

"Sorry, she was going by her middle name this summer. I still call her Annie most of the time. But I'd never, ever, hurt her, Dr. Giles."

After another moment of silence the Watcher replied, "Please call me Rupert. Or Giles if you'd prefer, as Buffy and her friends do."

"It's nice to meet you, Rupert," Charlie replied warmly, smiling as he received a similar note of warmth in the older man's reply.

"And you as well, Charles. I shall have Willow email Mr. Clarner's note to you early in the week, and shall find specific time for your visit in the near future."

"Thank you, Rupert."

"Not at all, Charles. It was a pleasure speaking with you, and I look forward to meeting you in person."

"Me too. Goodbye."

"Good day." *(8)

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High School Courtyard, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996

Buffy sighed as she forced herself to walk normally under Faith's concerned gaze. "You really didn't have to come with me, you know."

"Hey I've gotta report in too, don't I?" the brunette asked, her tone showing none of the worry that Buffy could see in her eyes and feel with her empathetic senses.

"You haven't reported in before now?" The older Slayer raised an eyebrow, but only spared the brunette a quick glance before moving her eyes forward again, not wanting to risk tripping or anything similar with how sore her body still was. All of the visible injuries—AKA the bruises around her neck and her concussion—had healed in the last twenty-four hours, but she was still really, really tired. And achy. Kind of like she had the flu, except she didn't. And thankfully she was only nauseous when the far too many concerned people she knew tried to make her eat something. Though her Mom's soup was still OK. And her tea. Buffy'd had a lot of chicken-noodle-soup, green tea and orange juice in the last thirty-six hours or so.

"Nah, too busy playin' poker with you and Mrs. S, remember?"

Buffy chuckled and nodded. How could she forget? That was the only thing they'd been able to come up with that her Mom didn't think tired her out too much. They'd tried watching a movie, but the maniacal return of her lurking migraine had quickly dismissed that idea. But card games had been OK. And board games. And naps. Lots of naps.

"Hey, what's your puppy dog doing at school on a Sunday?"

Buffy blinked, then followed Faith's gaze to where Scott Hope was standing in front of the small memorial that had already been put up for Pete Clarner and Debbie Weeks*. (5)

That was something that the school—or maybe just some of the student body, she guessed—had started doing this year. Putting up memorials for the peers that they lost. The memorials were never there long, only a few days. And still, not much was ever said about the ones that were attacked by vamps and whatnot. But at least people were paying attention to the fact that someone that was supposed to be there, going to school with them, wasn't. Because they were dead.

"Um, hey, do you think—"

"I'll wait inside," Faith cut her off, before moving ahead of her with an easy walk that made Buffy a little envious. "Just don't make me wait too long, K?" she requested over her shoulder, and Buffy nodded.

"OK." Then she frowned, stopping for a second to gain her bearings before making her way over to the boy that had been asking her out for the last two weeks. She sighed when she got over to him, to see him just sitting there, staring at his friends pictures. "Hey."

Scott blinked, then looked up at her, clearly only just having become aware of her presence. "Oh, hi Buffy."

"Not sure what to say," The Slayer offered after a moment's silence, shrugging apologetically when he frowned at her. "Everything I think of sounds really stupid or obvious."

Scott shook his head, his eyes going back to the pictures of the departed. "I've been friends with them, with both of them, since before we started school. Before pre-school, even."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Scott glanced at her again, this time a little longer. Then he shook his head and sighed. "No. Thanks. I'll be OK, in a little while." He shrugged, then a deep, serious frown crossed his face. "It just made me realize..."

Buffy frowned when he trailed off, raising an eyebrow as she asked curiously. "What?"

"You just never really know what's going on inside somebody, do you? I mean, you think if you care about them..." He shook his head, eyes closing for a moment in a clear expression of grief. "But you never really know."

After a short pause Buffy sighed too. "No, I guess you don't." She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, "Take care, Scott. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Bye, Buffy."

Then she moved off towards the library, one hand already in the coat pocket that she kept her phone in when she didn't feel like carrying her purse somewhere.

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Angels' House, Los Angeles, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996

Charlie sighed as he sank into one of the lobby's comfortable chairs. "I really don't know what to tell you, Annie. I mean, it's understandable that you feel bad for him. It's natural. He just lost his best friends," he sighed again, while shaking his head. "But you shouldn't feel guilty."

"I killed—"

"Technically Sineya killed a demon using your body. Pete Clarner had turned himself into a monster. It's very sad, but both Debbie's death and his death are Clarner's fault. Not yours."

"But if I'd been faster Debbie—"

"If you hadn't gone on a walk in Pasadena after midnight on the third of June, I'd be dead. If you hadn't seen Willow leave the Bronze with a vampire the night you met her, she'd probably be a vampire. If—" Charlie shook his head again, sighing as he cut himself off and continued, his voice firm with a resolve that came from somewhere deep inside of him. "If isn't something we can live with, Annie. You, especially, can't even let yourself think it."

After a long moment of silence Annie finally sighed, and he knew she was nodding. "Yeah, I guess. I know. It's just... hard. You know?"

The mathematician nodded in agreement, part of him wondering if she could sense it over the bond like he could. "Yeah." Then he turned slightly, his attention caught by the sound of laughter from a group of kids gathered around the air hockey table in the next room, clearly visible from the House's lobby through the wide doorway. He smiled as he continued over the phone, "But you can't focus on that, OK? Focus on the lives that've been saved. They matter just as much as the ones that have been lost, don't they?"

"Yeah," Annie agreed readily, and he knew she was smiling softly now. "How're you feeling?"

"Good," he answered honestly, continuing before she could question it. "I mean, I'll still go to bed early tonight and I'll probably sleep in tomorrow, but I'm up and functioning. Though escaping my parents this morning, even with Lily's help, was kinda hard."

Annie laughed, "I can imagine. How're your Mom and Dad doing? And Lily? An—"

"They're great," Charlie cut in before she could get going. "Dad just started working on a new project, so he's happy. It's a big one, which means it'll pay a lot. And the planning stage is always one of his favorite parts anyway. And Mom won her most recent court case pretty easily."

"The guy that was suing his old boss?"

"For workplace negligence, yeah. He had plenty of evidence against them even without his injury, so Mom was really surprised they didn't just settle beforehand, but it ended up being better for her client anyway. And it meant Mom got more money, too." Charlie confirmed, then blinked as something flew by him, missing his face by barely an inch.

"Sorry, Doc!" one of the kids from the arcade nodded to him as he ran by to pick up the air hockey puck that had bounced off of the far wall after shooting off the table and all the way across the room.

Charlie glanced at the table, then at the puck again before shaking his head, shooting the kids a small smile and watching as they started up again while he kept talking into his phone. "Sorry. Got distracted."

"What happened?"

Charlie chuckled, "I think our local air hockey players are getting a little over competitive."

"Our—When did the House get an air hockey table?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought Lily told you. A few weeks ago, even before we'd driven you home, actually, someone bought a bunch of arcade equipment from a local arcade that was going out of business and donated it to the House."

"Oh. That was nice of them. Who was it?" the Slayer asked curiously.

"I have no idea, you'd have to ask her. I just play with the numbers, remember?"

Annie laughed, "You do a little more than that, Charlie. You're gonna be teaching a bunch of 'em soon, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but Karen and Jen had a lot more to do with setting that up then I did."

"Oh? They went around making deals with gang leaders to get their gangs into the classroom?"

"Well, no, but I didn't—"

"You got Gunn's gang in, which means you'll probably get a lot of others that otherwise wouldn't be there. That's what Lily and Karen think, at least. Oh, and how'd your first defense class go, anyway? Before, um, you know?"

"Painfully," Charlie sighed, carefully stretching out his shoulders again to see if the soreness was still there and wincing as he discovered for what might be the hundredth time that day that it hadn't magically gone away. "I'm still aching in parts of my body I didn't know could ache."

Annie laughed, "Did you take any of the tonic? Or the tea?"

"Yes and yes. I think they helped."

"Well, I still say you should've waited for my package to get there."

"The one you won't tell me the contents of?"

"Yeah. That one."

"Just so we're on the same page," Charlie rolled his eyes, then winced as the motion reminded of him of just how much his head had hurt the night before with an ache that stabbed through his temples and then back again. He sighed, one hand coming up to rub gently at his sinuses, praying his headache would stay away. "Oh, and I heard you spoke to Gunn recently?" he remarked, effectively deterring Annie from asking about how he was feeling any more.

"Uh, last week, yeah. 'Bout the Watch and stuff," the Slayer replied, her tone superbly neutral considering she probably hadn't wanted him to know about that.

"And stuff?"

"Yeah. Stuff... So, what'chya gonna be teaching your captive class?" Annie asked, her tone taking a distinctly teasing turn. "After all, you can torture 'em all you like for payback."

Now Charlie had to laugh, and shake his head. "I want them to learn, Annie. And for that they need to like my class enough to work at it."

"Spoilsport." Annie sighed, before continuing seriously. "So everyone's OK there?"

Charlie nodded, smiling warmly. "We're all fine, Annie. Are you feeling better? Seriously."

The Slayer sighed. "I think I'm over fifty-percent now. My injuries are gone, but I'm still sore, too. And a little sad, but OK."

"Excuse me, Doctor Eppes?"

Charlie glanced up, warm smile still dominating his face, to see Jen, the youngest of the House's 'Walkers' waiting for his attention.

The Walkers essentially did the same thing the demon Ken had done, in going around the city and offering help to homeless people and really anybody in need. Except they really were offering help. To anyone and everyone that needed it.

"Um, Annie, I'm really sorry but I've gotta go. I'll talk to you again sometime in the next few days, all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Whoa, sorry I hadn't noticed how much time'd passed. I should go too, Faith's probably gettin' pretty bored." Annie agreed immediately, and the speed of her response made Charlie's smile slip into a small frown.

"You're sure you're OK?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Charlie. I'll talk to you tomorrow night, OK?"

"OK, Bye Annie."

"Bye."

Charlie sighed as he shut his phone and slipped it into his pocket, turning his full attention to Jen with a small frown as he rose from the far too comfortable chair he knew he'd occupied for more than a half hour. "Are Constance and the other ladies from Aquelarre del Plata here already?" he asked, glancing momentarily towards the House's main entrance before shaking his head and turning back to the Walker. "I didn't see them come in. Did they c—"

"No, they're not here yet, Doctor," the older-looking brunette finally cut him off, her long, straight hair drawn back into a ponytail that swished back and forth as she shook her head. "But Lily wants to see you about a, um, a guest. They're in her office."

Intrigued, Charlie nodded and started towards the nearby staircase but then stopped to frown back at Jen again and shake his head. "Jen, I've told you to call me Charlie."

The young woman who'd been born two years after he was but was sadly now more than a decade older—thanks to Ken and his brethren—shook her head and smiled at him as she asked, "And what's the point of all those extra years of college you took if you don't want to be acknowledged with the right title, Doc?"

Charlie blinked, his frown twisting a little as his eyes narrowed. "That's not going to be a nickname now, is it?"

Jen laughed and shrugged towards the nearby gaming room, where the kids were still playing, though they'd all dispersed to different games now with only a few gathered around the ever-popular air hockey table. "Hey, Terry said it first." Then she waved goodbye and headed towards the nearby door, undoubtedly headed to start her own patrol.

While the Watch looked for threats later in the evenings, the Walkers looked for those that'd be threatened, trying to find as many as they could before the sun went down. Most Walkers then joined one of the Watch's patrols, which had grown considerably with the addition of Gunn's semi-professional group and volunteers from many other gangs.

Charlie sighed and slowly started on his was up the stairs to see what Lily wanted.

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Giles's House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996

Buffy sighed, carefully keeping her face blank as she did so. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to grimace in annoyance or grin in amusement, but figured neither one would really work here, so she went with blank. "Faith, I really don't need a babysitter. I might not be back up to patrol speed yet, but I'm not gonna keel over either."

"I know, B, but—"

"Seriously. Do your pre-sunset patrol. I'll be fine getting home by myself. It's not like its far. And I'll even promise to let Giles give me a ride if he really, really wants to."

After a moment the brunette nodded, "OK. I'll see you when I get back then?"

"You bet," Buffy agreed with a nod as she watched the younger Slayer head for the door. "Be careful."

"Ha!" Faith shot her a quick grin as she opened Giles' front door. "Careful? Where's the fun in that? Later, G-man! Bye B!" Then she was through the doorway and the door swung shut behind her before Buffy could respond.

Buffy sighed again.

"Well, she certainly has plenty of zest," Giles mild comment drifted out of his kitchen and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"You know she was complaining about you not being in the library on the way over here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to be there when we look for you there."

"Surely you know by now that more often then not I spend most Sunday afternoons at home?"

Buffy shrugged, "How would I know what you do on Sundays when we're not worried about the world ending, Giles? If the world's not ending sometime soon, I don't see you between my report before patrolling Saturday night and Monday morning."

"Quite," the Watcher seemed to find that funny, cause he kept his voice 'mild' but she was definitely picking up some amusement with her newest sense.

"Well Faith thinks you should live in the library."

Now the Watcher actually chuckled, "Now I'm quite certain you're embellishing, my dear girl. Would you care for some cream or sugar?"

"Yeah, one sugar, please."

Giles continued from inside the kitchen, while he took the cream out of the fridge, put some in the tea and then put it away before he opened the sugar canister that she was sure he'd set the steeping tea cups next to. She knew he had, because he always did. "You must have realized before now, Buffy, that you and Faith have very different temperaments."

Buffy snorted, kind of wondering how she might have reacted to Faith if she hadn't known the younger Slayer was coming beforehand and couldn't sense the two-faced teenagers real emotions. "I guess." She shook her head, glancing towards the kitchen door as her Watcher finally came through it, a tray baring two steaming mugs in hand. She accepted hers with a nod, "Thanks."

"Not at all, my dear," Giles shook his head, offering her a warm smile as he moved around the coffee table to sit down in the seat directly across from her after setting the tea-ware laden tray down. "Now, what would you care to discuss first?"

Buffy blinked, "Huh?"

"Well, as best I as I can decide," the librarian continued after taking a sip of his tea. "You're either here to report about your most recent venture against the, uh, forces of darkness in the form of Mr. Clarner's fiend-form." He continued without giving her a chance to respond when she winced at Pete's name. "Or you're here to talk about something else. Perhaps your time away from the Hellmouth?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." Buffy trailed off for a moment, then winced as a new thought occurred to her. "Uh, how much of this do you report?"

Giles blinked, lowering his teacup from where'd stopped at her question—halfway up to his mouth—and setting it down in its saucer again. "I beg your pardon?"

"To the Council. How much do you report?" At the confused look that was still present in her Watcher's eyes and the faint waves of it her empathetic senses were picking up, Buffy elaborated. "Of my life. How much of my life do you report? Just the slayings, or—"

"Oh, uh well, for the most part yes. Everything you encounter in your patrols, problems and the like. For the most part I keep mention of your daily life down to a minimum, though. Only truly pertinent details and summaries of everything else." The Watcher told her, frowning as he put his meticulously cleaned glasses back in front of his eyes to look at her. "Why do you ask?"

"H-Have you told them about Charlie?"

"Dr. Eppes? Yes, of course. Before the confrontation with Mr. Clarnen, Dr. Eppes's analysis was the only proof we had that our measures for keeping Oz contained while in the form of the wolf had not failed. And his credentials and reputation assured us that his analysis is almost certainly accurate." Giles shook his head, still frowning at her. "I had assumed that that was why you gave them to me, after all."

"And, um, how will the Council—"

"The Council won't do anything to Dr. Eppes, Buffy," Giles cut her off, frowning still as he squinted at her in contemplation. Then he shook his head. "I've no doubt that he will be approached and offered a position within the Watcher ranks, most likely in research. His area of academia is not one the Council has generally paid much mind to before now, but with his addition to our ranks that very well may change." The Watcher shook his head again, "He would not be approached to act as a Field Watcher, such as myself, due to his preeminence in society. After all, he may not quite be someone yet, but he certainly is going to be."

"He's nineteen and he's starting as a college professor in January," Buffy objected, a little miffed at the idea that Charlie was no one even though she really didn't want the Council to think he was anyone. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen."

"And he may very well be the Einstein of your generation," Giles nodded, apparently deciding it was safe to pick up his teacup again and take a sip of its contents before continuing. "Exactly. What he has already accomplished among mathematicians means he is known, so the Council is unlikely to approach him with a field position because, well—"

"If he's killed too many people might want to know why."

The Watcher sighed again, "Well, to put it bluntly, yes. Although many Watchers enjoy positions of prestige around the world, the vast majority of them are part of a network that is centuries old. They were raised to be Watchers, whereas Dr. Eppes was not. Does his family—?"

"They don't know." Buffy shook her head and sighed also. "His brother's in the FBI, so I don't know if he might hear about the supernatural that way or not, but his Mom and Dad never even asked how he was injured the night we met."

"He was—"

"A vamp got him, yeah. Three of 'em talked their way into his house and attacked him. I was walking by and stepped in, but he'd already lost a lot of blood so I had to call an ambulance."

"Did all three vampires feed—"

"Ewe, no. Only one of 'em. The other two cheerleaders from hell—" at his confused look she elaborated, "They were all dressed up as cheerleaders for one of the junior high schools. There was a Master-Vamp near there that was grabbing kids at the afterschool practices and turning 'em. I found him a few weeks after Charlie and I got out of the hospital." Then she winced at the sharp look that took over her Watcher's face.

"You were injured?"

"No, I uh, his Mom and Dad weren't home. They were in Europe and I didn't want to leave him alone, so," Buffy shrugged. "I went with him."

"And willingly stayed in the hospital for more than a week?" Giles raised an eyebrow at her, and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't believe that, Buffy. Ignoring the dangers of allowing yourself to be tied to the injuries associated with vampires—which is why you're supposed to call for help and leave—you've never much cared for medical institutions."

Buffy sighed again, suppressing the urge to wince at what she knew her Watcher's reaction was going to be when she told him, "He needed blood."

"Well, yes, that's why he needed to go to the hospital after beings attacked by vampires," the Englishman replied, obviously not making the jump in logic she was expecting him to so she expounded.

"The, uh—Charlie has a rare blood type. The hospital didn't have any of it 'cause of—" she frowned slightly, then hurried on as she saw the expected thought click as Giles' eyes narrowed. "Actually I don't remember why they didn't have it. But Charlie needed blood."

"Buffy—"

"You said all Slayers are universal donors, why would we be if we weren't supposed to donate blood when it was needed? And Whistler said the Powers That Be were for it!"

Her Watcher was silent for several long moments, frustration plainly warring with confusion across his face before he sighed again. He finished what was left in his teacup and set it back in its saucer, reaching for the still steaming teapot in the middle of the tray he'd set up and pouring himself another cup. His glance at her still almost full cup made her reach for it and take a sip of the still pleasantly warm liquid while he finished mixing his cup of tea. Then he took a sip and leaned back in his chair, stirring the contents of his cup slowly as his eyes came back to hers. "Did you know Dr. Eppes before that night?"

"No, that's when I met him."

Giles nodded like he'd expected that answer even as he asked another question. "Why, then, did you feel it was so important that you saved him? You knew nothing about him, correct?"

"Well, no. I'd been talking to his mom on the phone, to help fill out papers, but—" Buffy shook her head, taking a quick but long sip of tea before setting the now half-empty china cup down and flopping back in her seat. Then she shook her head. "I don't know. I just had to save him. I had to."

After a moment the Watcher nodded, taking another sip of tea before setting the cup down again and continuing. "And?"

Now Buffy sighed, "Now we can sense each other. Mostly just when—"

"A blood bond formed?" The Watcher's eyebrows came together with a nearly audible click of consternation. "Buffy, if that's the case the Council—"

"I don't want the Council to know, Giles! I don't know the Council, so I certainly can't trust them with Charlie's safety." The Slayer shook her head, "We already talked with some witches in LA and all of them agreed that cutting our bond would only hurt us. But after what happened Friday night—"

"Something happened to Dr. Eppes as well?"

"Yeah," Buffy sighed again, looking down as she went on in a resigned tone. "He knew I was in trouble a-and then he collapsed. One of the witches we know said Sineya took all his strength to save me. She barely left enough to keep him alive." After several seconds of tense silence, the blonde looked up with a frown and then blinked at the completely shocked expression on her Watcher's face. "Giles? Are you OK?"

The Watcher nodded slowly but the shocked look didn't leave his face and he kept staring at her as he replied. "S-Sineya? Th-The First Slayer?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy winced, smiling apologetically in response. "Sorry. Apparently when Charlie and I bonded we woke up a piece of her. A sleeping memory or something like that's been part of the Slayer-line for, um, forever, I guess. So now she's—I don't know, tied to both of us and, um, yeah."

"I h-had thought when Faith said an older Slayer had possessed you that it may have been Sineya, but—" Giles shook his head and thought about that for a moment, before nodding. "Can you sense Sineya at all times, as well or is she only awakened when you—or, I assume, Dr. Eppes—are in danger?"

Buffy thought about that, closing her eyes and trying to sense the changes her bond with Charlie had undergone. After a moment she nodded when the answer came to her with the distinct note of her predecessor's presence. "She's still there. I don't think she's always there though. I'm not sure if she goes to sleep or if sometimes she pays more attention to Charlie, or what, but I know she wasn't watching until just now." Buffy smiled as she sensed a small wave of confusion from the other Slayer as she watched Giles. "She doesn't know what to think about you."

"Oh no?" Giles asked, then nodded again as his intelligent mind grasped the reason before Buffy could voice it. "But of course. The Watchers did not exist until long after she had passed on... Does she not know of us through the other Slayers that have been Called before you?"

Buffy thought for a moment, deliberately giving Sineya time to respond also before shrugging. "Not really. I don't think she was ever actually active before now. Not since her death, anyway."

"I see. How very interesting," the Watcher nodded again as he asked. "And do you know if Sineya would have the same reaction if Dr. Eppes were endangered?"

"Would she protect him? Yeah," Buffy didn't even have to give the ancient Slayer a chance to make her response known. That answer was instinctive, already fully embedded in her psyche and one she knew Sineya shared. "I don't know if she'd be able to do the same thing, but she'd definitely do something."

Giles nodded again, obviously expecting that answer. Then he sighed, "I dislike keeping this information from the Council, Buffy, if only—" he raised a hand to gently forestall her protests as he continued, "if only because it greatly reduces the resources at my disposal to help you, and Dr. Eppes, adjust to this connection. And as it has already impacted your Calling that could be dangerous."

"Sineya saved my life, Giles. I mean," Buffy shook her head, "I really don't like that she had to hurt Charlie—" She winced as a strong protest rang through her mind, "sorry, weaken Charlie—but—"

"She's speaking to you?"

"No. She doesn't really use words. I just get emotions from her most of the time and, um, I guess you could call it confirmation and denial when I ask her questions. But that's not—"

Giles cut her off again, his tone gentle, "I am most grateful for her intervention on this most recent occasion, Buffy. However, the dual nature of the bond could also endanger you. If her reaction to Dr. Eppes being in danger is to take all your strength to protect him, what happens if he's threatened while you're on patrol or fighting a demon?"

The Slayer sighed. "We were gonna start training soon. Trying to, at least. Charlie's gonna be working with some of the Covens in LA and," she shrugged. "I thought you could help me."

Giles nodded, smiling softly. "I would be delighted." Then he sighed, shaking his head. "Though it is fortunate Dr. Eppes is planning on visiting us soon. Much of the training for a bond such as this must be done with the other half at close range, with the bond unstrained."

"Wait, Charlie's not—how do you—"

"Dr. Eppes was concerned for your well-being yesterday and, not having been introduced to your mother or Faith, decided to call me. Undoubtedly assuming that having received his analysis from you I would recognize him as a friend."

Oh." Buffy let that sink in a moment, frowning. "So you and Charlie talked."

"Yes."

"'Bout what?" the blonde asked, her eyes slightly narrowed.

Giles chucked and waved a hand before reaching for his teacup with that same hand. "Oh, this and that," he murmured, his soft smile in place again as he took a sip of his tea, shooting another pointed glance towards her cup.

Obeying the silent command, Buffy picked up her half-empty cup of lukewarm tea and quickly finished it off before putting it back down again and returning her full attention to her Watcher. "So Charlie's coming here?"

"At some time in the near future, yes. You'll have to discuss the actual timing with him." Her Watcher was silent for a moment, then he added. "If you'd like, he's welcome to use my guestroom during his stay. I should like to get to know him."

Buffy shook her head, "I'll ask Mom. We have another guestroom, though, so we probably won't need to—but thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Giles nodded again as he rose and moved his teacup to his tray of chinaware, waiting for Buffy to follow his example before sweeping the dishes away into the kitchen, where he set the tray on the counter by the sink before returning to his living room.

Buffy leaned back in her chair, sighing in relief as she listened to Giles clean up in the kitchen, the familiar sounds clinking together in a comfortable rhythm as she waited for him to come back out. After all, they still had a bit more to talk about...

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Eppes' House, Pasadena, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996

Charlie suppressed a sigh as he watched Lily calm their guest down and talk her into giving them a chance at helping her for the third time in the last thirty minutes.

Denise Williams* was a year younger than him and had dropped out of high school when she ran away from home on her sixteenth birthday. Unlike many of the people the former owners of the land Angel's House resided on had preyed upon though, she hadn't collapsed when faced with the challenges of her independence. And unlike Annie and Lily she hadn't merely survived on her own. She'd thrived. (6)

She'd started her professional career as a dancer and actually been fairly successful. At least enough to support herself after she was legally emancipated. She'd only been in Las Vegas—working primarily as a showgirl—for a few weeks before she was able to join a tour group that then took her to major cities all over the country. While in New York City she'd landed a minor role on Broadway. Afterwards she'd been dragged back west by an agent who got her into a few commercials and some Soap Opera or another. It wasn't until she'd shown her face here in Los Angeles that she'd run into real trouble.

"Hey, hey, honey," Lily was murmuring softly to the younger, teary girl, one arm wrapped comfortingly around shaking shoulders as she led her back to the office's sitting area. "There," she said, after she'd gotten the girl to sit down. "Now, how about we go through what we know so we can see how we can help you, OK?"

"I-I shouldn't be—"

"You should be here. You are here. That's one step in the right direction, OK, sweetie?"

"B-But—"

"We can't help you if you leave, Denise," Lily cut in, her voice still supremely soft even as her words made the weeping brunette wince. "Please, help us help you."

"I-I d-don't know," the young actress accepted a tissue from the House's manager with a grateful nod. After blowing her nose she shook her head, looking down at her lap as she continued. "I d-don't know where to start..."

"You're in an abusive relationship?" Lily asked after a moment of silence. Though they'd asked the girl many questions in the last half hour they hadn't gotten many answers out of her. All they knew for sure was that one of the local seers had told a Walker that the dancer's life was in danger. So the Walker—Charlie thought it'd been Mark, but he wasn't sure—had talked the terrified teen into coming here.

After a long moment of almost silence—Denise was still sniffling softly—she nodded. "Y-Yes. No!" then she shook her head, her eyes still focused on her lap while her hands wrung the used-tissue. "N-Not really. He's not my boyfriend. He—" she looked up when Lily took the tissue from her and threw it away, to replace it with a new one. Instead of encouraging her the kind act seemed to make her wilt, and she fell back into her chair with a sigh. "I guess he's kinda my Sugar-Daddy." She shook her head forcefully then, hurrying on before either of them could say anything while tears flowed from her eyes. "He wasn't supposed to be! M-Margo said he wasn't interested in sex!"

Lily nodded as she spoke up, her voice still gentle while her question drew the brunette's eyes to her. "But he was?"

Charlie wouldn't have thought it possible, but the teen seemed to wilt again, sinking back even further into her chair and, he guessed, into herself. He tried to think of anything to say to her, but it was all he could do to concentrate on the here and now and not let the girl's terribly powerful emotions overwhelm him.

"He's got a lotta money. M-Margo said he l-likes to help people get s-started in their careers. That's h-how he knows everyone." Denise shook her head, futilely trying to wipe her tears away with the fresh—but already well-mangled—tissue Lily had given her moments before.

"But?"

"At first it was just little stuff, you know? Go to this party with him. But then he kept giving me stuff, and I took it so I-I h-had to—" Denise shook her head again, a look of complete self-disgusted crossing her face for a moment before she sighed and all expression dropped away. "He was really nice at first. Said he wanted to help. He's got money. A lot of it. And he likes hanging out with starlets, like me. I-I think if it was just sex it wouldn't have really mattered. I mean, I could handle it. I-I think."

Charlie couldn't keep a frown off his face as the dancer's emotions continued to escalate, his head already aching from his long and draining weekend and not at all ready to be faced with someone who needed them as much as Ms. Williams did. Unfortunately, she needed them now so he'd have to make due.

"This guy got a name?"

All three turned towards the entrance of Lily's office with a start, to see Gunn leaning back against the closed door, Constance standing next to him.

"Yeah, but you really don't wanna know it," Denise shook her head forlornly. "This is L.A. Guys like him get away with murder."

"Who'd he murder?" Charlie asked, his voice soft—following Lily's example and the blaring warnings he was still getting from his empathetic senses—as he drew all eyes to him.

Denise sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe no one." She sighed again, "He just likes to... he gets really violent." The dancer shook her head, "And he t-talks about pain like it's his best friend."

Charlie winced, biting back a gasp as a wave of pain—remembered agony, he realized—shot through his body, registering on his empathetic senses as Denise closed her eyes at the flashback and dulling a moment later when she opened them again.

"I-I tried to leave him. But he won't leave me alone. Everywhere I go I see him or one of his goons. A-And now I can't get work. Every audition I go to, he's there, talking to the director. And I'm not getting cast in anything. Even the directors that I worked for before I met R—him won't even talk to me!"

Now she was getting angry, which Charlie thought was good. Anger, at the very least, was much better than the pain and despair she'd been feeling moments before.

Lily nodded, "Denise, tell us who he is, please. Then—"

"I-I even tried going to the police but they wouldn't listen. His lawyer showed up and—" the dancer shook her head again, all the anger draining out of her at an almost alarming rate as she dropped back into her seat again. "Before your friend, Mark, dragged me in here I hadn't eaten in two days. He probably thought I was a druggie or something when he found me. I was sitting on a bench a few blocks away, shaking," she shook her head. "It's my blood sugar, I think. I usually don't have problems with it running low, but..."

"Denise," Charlie waited until the girl's eyes met his before he continued. "What's his name?"

After a long moment of silence, the dancer finally answered. "Russell. Russell Winters."

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Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Sunday, September 29, 1996

Buffy shook her head as she waved to her Watcher, watching him drive off for a moment before stepping the rest of the way into her house and closing the door behind her.

Talking about Charlie, Sineya and everything that had happened recently hadn't been easy, but it was nice to get it out there. Nice to know Giles cared enough to ask, even after everything that had happened with Angelus last year.

"Mom, Faith, I'm home!" she called as she turned towards the stairs, wondering where the two were. She'd talked long enough with her Watcher that her sister-Slayer should've been back from her pre-sunset sweep long before now. It was just the right time for dinner, and the younger Slayer probably wouldn't head out on her actual patrol until later this evening. As Charlie'd noticed when Buffy had taken him 'patrolling' there really wasn't much activity before midnight.

"In here, honey," her Mom's voice came from the kitchen and Buffy turned towards the dining room to cut through it, but a riot of color caught the corner of her eye, making her turn towards the living room instead, and blink in surprise.

A gorgeous bouquet a flowers was sitting in her mom's best vase on the coffee table, lighting the whole room up with vibrant colors. The bright autumn-pattern in shades of orange and yellow was broken by pale pink, elegant roses that were artful arranged into the ensemble.

A smile stretched across Buffy's face as she walked over towards it. "Hey, Mom, nice flowers!" she called towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, they're pretty aren't they?" Faith asked as she almost skipped down the staircase. "But your Mom didn't get 'em."

"Huh?" Buffy frowned in confusion, glancing towards the dining room as her Mom came through it from the kitchen.

"They were delivered a little over an hour ago, honey." Her Mom nodded towards the bouquet, smiling as she pointed out. "There's a note, I left it on the table there."

Buffy glanced towards the table and saw that there was, indeed, a small envelope leaning against the side of the vase she wouldn't have seen coming in from the front door. "What, they're for me?"

"No, we've just been waiting for you to get home for the last half-hour for nothing." Faith teased, smirking at her and also nodding towards the note. "Think they're from Hope?"

"Hope?" Buffy's mom asked the two teenagers, frowning in confusion.

"A boy at school that has a crush on B," Faith explained, before shooing Buffy closer to the bouquet. "Come on, see who it's from."

Buffy shook her head at the eagerness her sister-Slayer was radiating, but obediently moved over to pick the card up. Her name was scrawled on the back in a familiar handwriting and she smiled as she remembered the comment she'd made to Charlie a few days before. An offhanded, trivial complaint that he'd apparently taken to heart. And to think she'd thought he hadn't really been listening at the time!

"Aren't you going to open it?" Faith asked and Buffy's smile widened as her mom shushed the younger girl.

The envelope opened easily, none of the paper even ripping as the glue that was supposed to hold it closed gave way to a gentle tug. The small card that came out had a simple 'Get Well Soon' message on the front. The inside had been left blank, and Charlie had scrawled a brief message there.

Annie,

Thought these might cheer you up.

Stop feeling guilty, none of what happened was your fault.

Feel better, and remember I'm always just a call away.

Love,

Charlie

"So?" Faith demanded, the teasing note she was going for broken a little by the fact that she really wanted the answer to her question. "Who's it from?"

"Charlie," Buffy laughed, shaking her head at the simple but comforting gesture.

"Who?" her Mom asked in confusion and Buffy winced as she was reminded of the fact that there were still several people in Sunnydale who knew next to nothing about her summer in L.A.

"The math guy, right?" Faith asked, one eyebrow raised when Buffy looked at her. "Ya think I'm ever gonna meet him?"

"Yeah, actually," Buffy confirmed, glad to have a real answer for that. "I stayed with his family for a while in L.A. this summer. And he's gonna be visiting soon." Giving her mom a hopeful look she asked, "Could he stay here with us? Giles said he could stay with him, but since he's gonna be visiting me shouldn't he stay with us? We still have the other guestroom, you know."

"Oh," her mom blinked, then nodded and smiled warmly. "Of course. When will he be coming?"

"Um," Buffy shrugged, "We're still working on that, actually. Sometime in the next week or so? He starts teaching in the spring, so he has to visit before Christmas, an—"

"Teaching?" Now her mom was frowning again. "How old is he?"

"Oh, he's only nineteen." As surprised and confused looks took over the other two women's faces she explained. "But he's a genius. A real one. So he went through school in, like," Buffy started to do the math then shook her head. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen and he has a doctorate in math. He's thinking about getting one in physics, too."

"So he's a super-geek," Faith realized, apparently thinking about this for a second then smirking as her thoughts took another turn. "He graduated from high school when he was thirteen, right?"

"Yeah, I just said that."

"Well, that means he was, like, twelve when he went—if he went—to his school Homecoming Dance senior year, right?"

"I guess..."

"That had to suck. You should make him stay around for yours. That's next week, right?"

"Um, yeah," Buffy blinked, surprised to find she really liked the idea and she shrugged. "I guess I'll ask him."

"Ahem," her mom cleared her throat, drawing both Slayer's eyes to her. She held her daughter's for a second and then glanced towards Faith with one eyebrow raised. She did this three times before Buffy figured out what she wanted.

"Oh, you should come too, Faith," the blonde suggested, frowning when her younger counterpart immediately started shaking her head.

"Nah, I figured I'd handle the patrol that night so you can—"

"We don't have to patrol every night, Faith," Buffy told her firmly. "Besides, most of the vamps that come out that night'll be drawn towards the party anyway. That's where all of the party-goers are gonna be." Then she shrugged, "And we can do a quick sweep through down later in the evening after that, anyway."

After a moment Faith shrugged, "I guess. Gotta get to know flower-give'n boy, right?"

"Um, well—"

"OK, I'll go."

"Good," Buffy's mom cut in before the younger blonde could protest Charlie's presence being a reason for going. The older woman shook her head and nodded towards the dining room. "You girls should clean up, and set the table. Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Yes, Mom," Buffy rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she moved into the kitchen behind her mother, quickly washing and drying her hands before moving to the cupboards the grab the plates while Faith got the cutlery and the trio fell into the easy pattern they'd held for a few weeks now.

End of Within & Without – Part II.

AN: Hi guys!

Sorry for the wait. I really didn't think it'd take me that long to write this chapter, but with the trip to New York right before my midterms everything just kinda dragged out. I've also been getting a lot of hours at work lately, which I like because more hours means more money, but it also generally means I'm tired the nights I work, so even if I don't have a lot of class stuff to do, I don't get around to a lot of writing. I did try though, I really focused on pushing this chapter through. Partially because there are several parts in this chapter that I really like and have been waiting for and partly because of how long it's been since my last update.

Anyway, for here are some of the notes from within the chapter:

(1a) My beta-reader pointed out that moonrise would be around 8:00PM, which is late for anyone to be at school. But I really don't feel like figuring out a way for that to work. So, please, just take it as an exercise of a fantasy writer's license, accept that at least in this fic the full moon was rising earlier in the day, and let it go. Thank you. :-D

(1) I know NOTHING about professional wrestling, past or present. 'Chyna' was the only female wrestler I could find through Google and Wikipedia that seemed to be around—and well know—in the late 1990s. If anyone has a suggestion of a better wrestler for Gunn to mention, please feel free to speak up! (URL: .org/wiki/Chyna)

(2) I know a Sycamore probably isn't the right kind of tree for that scene... but it sounded neat, so I left it alone. Sorry if that threw anybody off.

(3) Southie = South Boston, a "densely populated neighborhood in Boston, MA" that is "referred to as Southie by its residents" and is also, according to Go Ask Malice, where Faith grew up. (.org/wiki/Go_Ask_Malice) (.org/wiki/South_Boston,_Boston,_Massachusetts)

(4) Clarner is the surname listed on Wikepia for Pete, so I used it. Mostly because I don't see Giles saying "Pete did this" or "Pete did that." If anything, his agreeing to call Charlie by his first name so quickly was odd, but I did it anyway, figuring it kind of showed how easy it was for other characters to like—and trust—Charlie. (URL: .org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beasts)

(5) Everything I said about steroids came from Wikipedia, either the page I'm listing here or ones linked to it. (URL: .org/wiki/Anabolic-androgenic_steroids)

(6) A surname wasn't given for Debbie, which seems a little weird, but I just decided to use the actress's last name. (URL: .org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beasts)

(7) I gave Denise the surname Williams because that was the surname she had in Joss's original script—the one I found listed as that at least. I think it was later changed to Perkins, but I liked Williams more so I decided to keep it.

(8) OK. Giles and Charlie's first chat wasn't quite what I was hoping for. But it wasn't too bad, was it?

And that seems to be all.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and constructive criticism/reviews in general would be immensely appreciated.

Bye for now! ^_^

Jess S

NEXT: Chapter 6: Mortal Peril – Part I.