Iron Buffy

by Janusi

Buffy went as one Tonya Stark and now struggles with her memories. After all, you can't really make a flying suit of armor, right?

3. Chapter 3

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Marvel, unfortunately.

I'd like to thank CaBil for his help in making this story readable and wish everybody a happy Father's Day.

Chapter 3

Sunnydale, 3441 Oakhurst Lane

"They've finally done it, my clan has ordered me to return home," Jenny sighed morosely sitting on Giles' couch. The librarian himself was sitting next to her, holding her hand.

"Then, then they believe Angel will not be returning to Sunnydale," Rupert probed.

Jenny shook her head in the negative. "The Elders believe he will remain in LA, though they apparently haven't had much luck actually finding him. That's why they want me home, I think they blame me for things getting out of their control. Even though Angel is cursed again, and unlikely to break the curse himself now that he knows it's possible."

"I see," was all he said. But Jenny could hear the unspoken question.

"I don't know what I'll do. I suppose the question is, what's here for me?" The teacher looked the librarian in the eye. "I care for you, a lot. But we differ a lot and... You care for Buffy like a daughter, but she hates me for a good reason. I know being with me is causing friction between the two of you and maybe with me out of the picture things could be easier..." It was silly of her, but she wanted Rupert to say the words. To ask her.

"Buffy doesn't hate you, or even dislike you," he reassured her. "So don't worry you are any kind of burden in that regard. Or any other regard," Rupert added as he realized his faux pas. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at this," he chuckled. "What I mean to say is that I, ah, like having you around. That I..." the Watcher shook his head. "Hear me fumble around like a teenager. I would like you to stay here, with me."

She frowned. "What are you saying?" Jenny had hoped Rupert would want her to stay in Sunnydale, but this sounded like more.

"I'm offering, that is, I would... Oh sod it. Would you move in with me?"

Jenny had been spending more and more time here, but this was a big step. And taking it meant breaking with her clan, she was sure of that. They couldn't react any other way at her thumbing her nose at one their commands. 'And would that be so bad? Even if me and Rupert don't work out, can I still honestly call myself a Kalderash?'

Uncle Enyos had posed the question too, and back then she'd thought she knew the answer. But the whole affair with Angel losing his soul and then the effort to put it back in had given her time to reflect. Revenge was the goal, the purpose of her family and she'd been raised believing in it. But revenge for a murder a hundred years old sounded hollow when you lost students every month. Children you were teaching who ended up just as dead or worse now.

Staying here, on the Hellmouth, she could protect them. Or at least try and help them. And then there was Rupert himself. The stodgy librarian was just a mask, underneath it beat the heart of a real romantic. She'd been spending a lot of time with him lately. She'd barely set foot in her own apartment in the past week and didn't that say everything Jenny needed to know right there? "I'd like that," she told him closing the distance between them. "Very much."

She dispensed with words after that in favor of more expressive ways to show her feelings on that proposal.

Summers Industries, Sunnydale Branch

They were in the basement in what Buffy liked to call "The Vault", though she was also the first to admit it was a pretentious name at the moment. The door was thick steel and hidden from sight with the help of holocage emitters, but one good kick would shatter the illusion just like any other holocage-construct. And anything that could get beat the complex's security systems wouldn't be stopped by another steel door either.

Still, it was the best place to store things that needed some extra security or simply needed to be kept out of the way. The latter was the case for the Praying Mantis body Willow had brought in that was kept from decaying in a giant freezer. The Judge's body was there too, though it wasn't out of curiosity that they still had it. Even now, months after its head had been destroyed, the body still showed some activity. Nothing as dramatic as rising up and trying to choke anybody near it, but the Judge still took an occasional breath and its heart throbbed randomly. So the Scoobies weren't about to take any chances with the thing.

Buffy's attention wasn't focused on them, however, but on a new addition that hadn't been there when she'd gone to LA to stay with her dad. "Okay, Giles, I've seen the demon statue. Now, care to tell me why we have a statue of a demon with a sword stuck in it in storage or should I guess?"

"Ah, yes, ehm, this is Acathla. Some construction workers dug it up recently and Doug Perren over at the Museum of Natural History called me in to help identify the find. You see, it had been encased in a stone bearing warnings in several languages including a warning inscribed in hieroglyphs! Which is rather odd given that this demon was defeated some time after their use..." Giles finally caught on Buffy wasn't interested in that.

He began to polish his glasses. "Yes, well, it only took me a few hours to determine what was inside so I had Xander wear the armor and, ah, liberate the demon from the Museum. Poor Doug, he was so excited about this find. Couldn't wait to see what was inside." Giles shook his head.

"Giles," Buffy said calmly. "Why is Aspatula in the Vault?"

"Acathla," he corrected her. "And he is here because he's an exceptionally dangerous demon."

The blonde eyed the inanimate statue. "It looks harmless from here. Kind of dead too."

"I'm afraid it is anything but. Acathla was sent here to swallow the Earth and sent it into Hell, but before the demon could take that world-ending breath a knight pierced him with the sword you see. It turned to stone, but it is possible to revive the demon by removing the sword."

Buffy's scrutiny got more serious now. "Are we talking sword in the stone here or what?"

"More or less, though I wouldn't to say one must be worthy to pull out the sword in this case. Because only a demon devoid of any redeeming qualities can pull it out, after a depressingly simple ritual. Sadly, almost any vampire would fit that criteria."

"Right then, and what happens if I take a sledgehammer to it?" Maybe it was knowing what it was, but the thing was starting to give the Slayer the creeps. Almost like it was whispering or something.

"I'm afraid that while Acathla appears to be made of stone, the material is far sturdier than that. The chronicles I read detail several attempts to destroy the demon, including detonating a large amount of black powder. Nothing worked and they were starting to fear their efforts would only destroy the sword and wake the demon up."

"And suck the world into Hell," Buffy finished for him. "Gotcha... So the Council wasn't any use on this subject either?"

Giles knew exactly what other subject Buffy was referring to. "They sent me the chronicles I mentioned, so I would not say they were of no use in this matter. Really Buffy, you must not let your frustration on one subject blind you to the help the Council provides in other matters. Having said that, I do share your feelings on their stubbornness when it concerns the new Slayer. It is still their position that the location of the current Slayer is need-to-know information and that we don't need to know. Sam hasn't found out any more than that she's in North America, and I'm afraid he won't be able to find out much more without garnering unfavorable attention. We both will of course continue to request more information, but I don't see the Council change its position any time soon."

"And those dinosaurs don't have any electronic records Jarvis and Willow can hack into either," Buffy grouched. "I'm starting to wonder what we need the Council for," the blonde sighed before returning to their original discussion. "How about dumping it into the Mariana Trench?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's the deepest part of the ocean, I'm thinking all that pressure might just do the trick of destroying Alfalfa."

Giles didn't look convinced, probably had something to do with her mangling the name again. "Or dislodge the sword and wake the demon in a place we couldn't reach," he cautioned her.

'Damn, he's right. It's way too risky to destroy it here... Maybe outer space would do? But I got no way to reach it at the moment and I don't see that changing any time soon.'

Out loud Buffy said, "I guess it stays here then. Okay, I've seen the statue and am duly impressed how important it is so let's get out of here. The thing is giving me the creeps." Her Watcher didn't protest and soon they were walking up the stairs. "So, what's this I hear about us going into the rope-making business?" Buffy asked as they reached the top and stepped out into the hallway.

"Hmmm?" Giles had been distracted by stepping out of the way of a cleaning-bot rolling down the corridor. "Ah, yes. It was Xander's idea, actually. He's been helping out with our attempts to sell your body armor, unfortunately its current costs has turned off some prospective customers. Centurion has placed a small order for the long-sleeved versions and the leg armor in addition to another order for more Vision-glasses, the military is holding off. In any case, he pointed out the other uses your, ehm, synthetic spider silk has."

"Like rope or anything else that needs a material with high tensile strength, got it."

"Just so," the librarian agreed. "So now we'll be focusing on increasing production of that particular material as well as holocage-parts. We've received enough orders for holocages that a dedicated facility to manufacture them has become necessary."

Buffy couldn't help but smile. Their business was really taking off. "I think I can help there. You can cut the budget for R&D back for at least the next three months. The Mark II armor is done, it's the installation I need to actually don the armor that's causing the delay. I'll take Ted out of storage and finally take a closer look at him. His components are primitive but some of the principles behind it even Tonya never thought of. Other than that, I'll just confine myself to computer design and stuff that's not too expensive to make."

"And schoolwork," her Watcher supplied sternly.

"Yeah, that too," she said affably.

"Hmm, well, if you feel that way than perhaps you could do the interview with that internet magazine."

"Interview?"

Giles nodded. "The Los Angeles office has handled most of the interest generated by your holocage, but there are some very persistent requests for interviews with the persons responsible for its development. I share your desire to remain at least somewhat obscure, but there's a point where too much secrecy will only draw more attention towards us. So, I thought if we honored the request of this, uhm, String-dot-com we'll strike a nice balance."

"String-dot-com?" Buffy asked bewildered. "Uh, don't you mean Wired-dot-com?" Her Watcher cleared his throat out of embarrassment, but didn't comment any further. The Slayer was unsure if she should say yes. She had Tonya's memories of how to handle something like that of course, but those same memories told her Giles was underestimating how well known Wired's web version was simply because it was an online medium. And yet, he was right too. Being too coy would only invite more scrutiny, not less.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde took the plunge. "Okay, I'll do it. Better me than Willow, and I can already picture how you'd handle it. Thinking you'd have to talk about my string," she chuckled. Color entered the librarian's cheeks as his eyes studied the end of the hallway with sudden, rapt attention. Only now did it occur to Buffy that she'd just done innuendo with Giles. "Sorry, that was all Tonya," she grimaced. "But I'll do the interview. I'll contact the LA office myself, I've got some ideas on how I want to do this."

Los Angeles, Dana's apartment

Dana was fighting the impulse to hang up all the way from the first ring right through the second, and it was still there when Buffy answered just after the third. She'd been debating this action for almost a month, but she just had to do it. Buffy answered the phone with a lot of cheer and slightly out of breath. "Hey Dana."

She wondered how the blonde knew it was her for a moment, but then shrugged it off as Dana kept her focus on what she was planning on saying. "Hey, uh, you must be wondering why I waited so long?"

"I was worried," the blonde admitted. "But I got it too, you needed time."

"Yeah, time," Dana echoed with a pained smile Buffy had no way to see.

Something of it must have leaked through in her answer, though, judging from the blonde's worried tone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said a little too fast. "I just... I just thought you deserved to know that I don't think it's going to work."

"Me being a girl is that much of an obstacle?" Buffy's voice was very neutral, making it hard to determine how she felt about this.

"No," Dana responded right off. And weirdly enough, that was the truth. "It's, uhm, it's your age. You're seventeen and I am not. Haven't been for several years now."

"Oh." The blonde sounded very strange there. "Uh, thanks for explaining, I guess."

"Yeah, I... I thought you deserved to know."

"I suppose this is goodbye then." She didn't sound happy but Dana didn't know what else to say. So she said her goodbye too and disconnected. Why had she called Buffy now, the day before she went out with Chris. 'Maybe it's to find some closure? Going out with Chris when I haven't settled things with Buffy wouldn't be healthy after all.'

Dana nodded to herself and picked up the business card the blonde had written her number on. 'Guess I won't need this anymore,' she thought. But the memories the piece of paper stirred were already distracting Dana. The blonde's hair had been all messy and she'd looked a little unsure of herself after Dana's outburst over her age. Yet Buffy hadn't hesitated when she'd handed the card over.

Opening a drawer, she put the card in it and closed the drawer again.

Chase Mansion

Cordelia knocked before stepping into her father's study. It was very modern looking, the glass bookshelves filled with books Charles Chase had never read nor did he have any intention of ever changing that fact. Cordelia's father was sitting behind a large, white desk, his fingers resting on a keyboard which besides the monitor was one of the few things on that desk. "You wanted to see me, Daddy?"

"Yes, I did pumpkin." He gave her a practiced smile and waited for her to take a seat before he said anything more. "I was wondering if you've had a chance yet to catch up with your friends?"

Cordelia blinked. School had started a few days ago and she had been in Las Palmas with her parents all summer so she hadn't seen the Cordettes for a while, but why was her father interested in them? Why now? "Uhm, yes?"

"Good, good. How are Buffy, Alexander, and Willow?"

The cheerleader managed to keep her first reaction contained to a frown, instead of blurting out 'What, those losers aren't my friends!' There were certain realities that you couldn't really explain to your parents even though you were real sure they'd been aware of them way back when they themselves had been in high school. In this case, the situation was a little more complicated since those three were Sunnydale's resident demon-hunters, which she knew but the rest of the town didn't.

So having her father suddenly show any interest in them, or her life for that matter, was ringing all sorts of warning bells with her. "Uh, I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to them yet. They're... busy." In fact, she'd seen less and less of them since last Halloween. "Why?"

"Oh, I'm bidding on one of Summers Industries contracts so I'd appreciate it if you could put in a good word for your old man."

Cordelia's frown deepened as she was certain she was missing something. She should be making some sort of connection between Daddy's answer and his earlier interest. "Summers Industries?" She did know that company, it was based right here in Sunnydale after all. Less than a year old but already worth millions, her interest had ended right after hearing the man running it was old and didn't have any children. She had standards after all. But now that she thought about it, his name had been familiar...

"Pumpkin, I thought you knew. Your friends set it up."

The brunette just managed to choke of her surprised exclamation of "What?" leaving her sputtering as her thoughts raced on. 'Summers Industries, named after miss Slays-A-Lot. I could've guessed, they stopped hanging around the library so much right as that company went into business. But what the hell does computer-stuff have to do with the supernatural? And isn't Willow supposed to be the big brain of the outfit so why isn't it called Rosenburg Industries?'

There was only one way to find out and doing what her father had asked her was the perfect excuse. "I guess that means we have one more thing to talk about." Cordelia smiled and nodded. "I'll be sure to mention you, Daddy."

Sunnydale High

First period hadn't started yet so Buffy and her Slayerettes were sitting on the couches of the lounge. Cordelia made sure to leave her own hangers-on behind before advancing on the group. She ignored Willow and Oz, she knew all about how he had not graduated by now so the sight of him still in high school was not a novelty anymore. Nor was the slight distance between him and the redhead, it figured that an overachiever like Willow would be weirded out by him doing something like that.

"When exactly were you going to tell me you were rich, Harris?" Cordelia demanded to know with her arms crossed in front of her. She supposed she should be asking Buffy about all of this, but she preferred arguing with Xander and this was going to be an argument.

It earned her a puzzled look from the boy. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Summers Industries, and isn't that an original name, dork."

His expression cleared. "Oh, that. I don't know if I'm rich, but the business is doing well. How did you find out?"

"My father, duh. He's bidding for some contract of your company. What I want to know is why the three of you suddenly got interested in money. And when Buffy became smart."

"Hey!" an offended Buffy broke in. "I've always been smart!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Uhuh, yeah, you could have started up a high-tech company any time you wanted. Now what freaky, hellmouth-thing made you the brains of the operation? And interested in making money," she added.

"It's a long story, Cordelia," Buffy said still looking a little cross.

"We still have our memories from Halloween," Xander answered. This caused the blonde to mutter, "Apparently not so long." It didn't explain it to the cheerleader though.

"I remember Halloween. I got chased by Jojo the dog-faced boy for five blocks before some girl in armor flew in and started firing laser beams at it, and then came on to me." For some reason, Buffy shared the blush that was coloring her own cheeks. "It was the weirdest night in this freaky town yet. But how is that an explanation?"

Xander was already opening his mouth to answer when the Slayer cut him off. "Not in front of the entire school. Just come to the SI complex once school's out and we'll explain everything."

Cordelia wasn't happy about that, and she was also wondering why the blonde picked now to get secretive, but when it was clear Xander was going to go along with that the cheerleader had no more reason to stay. She could practically feel her social standing dropping with every minute Cordelia was seen in their company.

Summers Industries, Sunnydale branch

The place was weird, and not in a supernatural way making it actually doubly-weird for the Sunnydale native. There was no security at the gate, yet it opened for Cordelia as she approached as if to welcome her. It was the same for the building's door, though this time she was greeted by a voice. "Good morning, Miss Chase," a cultured voice intoned from a hidden speaker. "Mister Harris is waiting for you at the holocage."

The cheerleader started to ask where that was, but apparently whoever was speaking had already thought of that. Something that looked like a cross between a lawnmower and a vacuum cleaner rolled up to her and then stopped as the voice spoke up again. "This cleaner will escort you there."

"Uh, right." As soon as she'd said that, the cleaner started to move away leaving Cordelia little choice but to follow. The trip was short, and she saw little on the way except empty hallways. She didn't even encounter another living person until she stepped into a big room holding what must be a holocage.

People had started to talk about it in Las Palmas a week or so before her vacation had ended. Mostly it was bragging they would have one installed in their homes by Christmas. Judging from the size of this one, those people hadn't had a clue what they were talking about. It was huge and judging from the thick cables running from its bottom to the wall, it must guzzle power at the same rate her Mom had swilled martinis at Las Palmas. Not something you could just put into your rec room right next to the pool table.

The holocage seemed to be in use and Cordelia deduced that the figure in a formfitting dark blue suit standing in it was Xander. He seemed to be lining up a throw with a shield of all things at a human-shaped target on the other side of the holocage and hadn't noticed her yet. That was slightly annoying, she was used to commanding instant attention when she entered a room. But her desire to see the holocage in action overrode Cordelia's impulse to let Xander know he wasn't alone anymore so she kept quiet a little while longer.

What looked like impossibly large muscles flexed under his suit as he sent the shield flying. It swooshed through the air before impacting solidly on the target's left shoulder. The target twisted around before falling to the ground while the shield bounced back towards Xander. It didn't make it back to him, though, as it hit the floor after only a quarter of the way towards him skittering a few more feet before coming to a complete stop.

"This shouldn't be this hard," Xander said to himself. "I know how to do this, so why can't I get it to work?"

"Get what to work?" Cordelia asked.

Hearing her, Xander turned around looking pretty surprised. "Huh? Cordelia! I... didn't know you were here."

"I noticed," she grumbled before becoming distracted by the unobstructed sight of Xander. He'd just opened the cage giving her a good view of the formfitting suit he was wearing. 'When did he get this buff?' she wondered.

Then the cheerleader realized she was staring. At Xander Harris. "Now can you answer my questions so I can go. I do have better places to be," she snipped to cover her brief lapse in judgment. "For example, what the hell are you wearing?"

He looked down. "Hmm? Oh, this. It's something Buffy invented, the suit enhances my movement making me faster and stronger. Not on the level of Buffy but I think I could give Spider-man a run for his money."

Cordelia had to pause for a moment at the thought of Xander with something that sounded a lot like superpowers, but then she focused on more important matters. "And how did Buffy come up with that, with all of this," she asked waving around a little.

"Oh, uhm," for some reason Xander started to blush a little, " she went as a fictional inventor during Halloween and she kept the knowledge which, it turns out, isn't so fictional."

"That's it? That's the big secret you couldn't tell this morning?"

Now Xander looked even more uncomfortable. "Ah, that's not all. Uhm, you see, we had Jarvis do some digging on everybody that wants to do business with us. Including your father. So I should let Jarvis explain," he finished in a rush.

Cordelia was about to look around for this other person when the same voice from the entrance spoke as if he was in the ceiling. "Very well, Xander. Miss Chase, I'm afraid I stumbled upon a matter of some embarrassment when I did a check on your father's finances. Apparently, the IRS have opened an investigation on Charles Chase. They suspect him of tax evasion for the last twelve years."

"What?" the brunette choked out.

Jarvis wasn't even finished. "From the evidence I could sift from their computers, they have a very strong case and the resulting fine will certainly wipe out his business as well as result in the loss of all of his property. That was the reason I advised against awarding him-"

"That's enough Jarvis," Xander interrupted and the voice went silent without hesitation. The expression on his face as he turned back to her was too much. "I'm sorry you had to hear it this way."

"I don't believe you." Her words caused Xander to rear back in surprise, but Cordelia wasn't finished. "I want to see this evidence of yours, because there's no way Daddy would do that to me."

Xander started to speak, then thought better. "Okay, we can do that. Uh, Jarvis, can you route all the info to Conference Room 2 so Cordelia can go over it?"

"Done, Xander," that same cultured voice answered.

Sunnydale High

Contentedly, Jenny Calendar watched her students leave her classroom. 'And not rush or flee as they did with some of the other teachers,' she thought mildly amused. There was one, however, who stayed behind. Normally that would be because the student had a question about the material, but Jenny couldn't imagine that it was Willow's reason.

"Uhm, Miss Calendar, I was hoping you could, like, help me with a project I've been working on."

"Project?"

"Not for school," Willow supplied. "Buffy and me have been trying to develop a sensor for the armor that can detect magic, but we hit a brick wall. Buffy thinks it's because of the Hellmouth radiating in the background that it is impossible to tell if we're on the right track. But I was thinking..."

"Yes?" Jenny prompted when Willow didn't give a sign she was going to explain further.

"I was thinking of approaching the problem from, like, the other direction, use magic to detect magic. I mean, there must be spells to detect mystical forces, right?"

The computer teacher blinked. "Yes, there are several but... I'm not quite sure I follow."

"Oh, right. Well, I thought that maybe the output of a detection spell could be made intelligible to a computer then I would have my sensor. Only problem is that I don't really know all that much of magic let alone how to combine it with technology."

"And that's where you need my help," Jenny finished for her. Willow nodded happily, but the teacher saw another problem. "Does Buffy know you're asking me for help?"

A sheepish look crossed the redhead's features, before quickly being buried under a mountain of resolve. "She doesn't. She's my friend, but that doesn't give her veto-rights on all my decisions. I want your help and there's the end of that." Her certainty melted away again. "Uhm, are you going to help?"

Jenny Calendar gave it some thought. What Willow wanted to do did sound interesting, she already some ideas on how it might be accomplished. On the other hand... 'No, stop thinking that. Yes, I wronged Buffy but I can't live the rest of my life worrying about how anything I do might affect her. She might not like it, but that's not as important as Willow's development. And I'm interested too, dammit.' Nodding to herself, she spoke up. "Yes, yes I am. And I think we should start with figuring out what exactly you want this sensor to detect."

That earned her a puzzled look. "What do you mean? I thought I already made that clear, I'm trying to make a sensor for magic."

"Ah, but there are several kinds. And there's even more mystical forces that aren't counted as magic but they are supernatural." Sitting back, she watched Willow process that bit of information. The redhead didn't look discouraged, not in the slightest. 'Good.'

Summers Industries

"Cordelia," Buffy said surprised when she saw the brunette round the corner just a few feet from her once again guided by a cleaning robot. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Xander, I tried to talk to him at school but he left in a hurry. And so did the rest of your little club," she added with a frown. "What's the emergency?"

"No emergency," the blonde assured Cordelia. "Just excited about my first test-flight," she noted with a sense of pride. The Mark II armor was finally ready, and tonight she'd take it out for its maiden flight. Tonya's memories of her first flight in the suit had ignited a tingle of anticipation in her and try as she might to think of it as just another trial, Buffy couldn't. This would be her suit, and the things it should be capable of were a heady-

"Test-flight of what?" the cheerleader wondered interrupting Buffy's thoughts.

It also reminded her of the fact that Cordelia might connect her to that incident on Halloween if she saw Buffy in armor. Especially because the armored figure that had come on to Cordelia had been Buffy, even if she'd been possessed by Tonya Stark at the time, she still remembered the incident like it had happened to her. "Oh, just another invention of mine. It's going to revolutionize the slaying business," she enthused.

'Don't want to have Cordelia wonder why everybody is here if it's nothing special but I don't want her interested enough to actually stay and watch either.' Buffy knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but that sounded just peachy right now. And it looked like it was working too, Cordelia visibly losing what little interest she had. 'And now to distract her,' Buffy decided. "So, why do you want to see Xander?"

It worked, but she didn't answer the question. "You know, don't you?" the brunette asked instead.

Buffy nodded. "About the tax-thing? Yeah, we all do." Cordelia couldn't hide a flinch at hearing that. "But what's that got to do with Xander, I thought he already showed you everything we know? Or do you still not believe us?" And according to him, Cordelia hadn't had any trouble reading all the spreadsheets and other financial information. 'Wonder where she picked up that skill,' the blonde mused.

"Oh, I believe you," Cordelia said grimly. "My father, though, doesn't."

"You told your father about us?" Buffy asked alarmed.

"As if," the cheerleader snorted. "I just dropped some hints, told him I'd heard a rumor about the IRS cracking down on businesses in Sunnydale. He didn't seem to be worried at all after hearing that."

"Still not seeing how Xander can help."

"I'm hoping Daddy is just a very good poker player and that he is doing something, I want your Jarvis to take a look and find some evidence of that."

"I see. And what if he can't find anything?"

Buffy took care to sound neutral but Cordelia still gave her an angry look. "Don't pity me, I'm fine. I'll beat this," she said with conviction.

"I'm not pitying you, Cordelia. I'm showing sympathy, you know, this human emotion most people feel for other people when something bad happens to them."

"Well, I don't need that either because nothing bad is going to happen to me," Cordelia maintained stubbornly.

Momentarily speechless, Buffy searched Cordelia's eyes for the source of that conviction. Wasn't she at least worried that things wouldn't work out? She should be, because Buffy was pretty sure things wouldn't work out for her. From what she'd gathered of her father's situation, he was going to crash and burn and when he did, the same thing would happen to the future Cordelia had been expecting for herself. Did the cheerleader really believe that wasn't going to happen?

She looked away, only just managing to cover her reaction by turning around. "Alright, I know where Xander is so just follow me," Buffy said. She had her answer so the least the Slayer could do for the other girl was hide that she had.

VVV

Buffy made some final adjustments to her body-suit as she stepped towards the platform. She had it on because the Mark II was a very snug fit and something like loose clothing or a stray lock of hair didn't exactly go well with that. It was basically the same as Xander's suit, minus the artificial muscles, so that it offered a modicum of protection and biometric data like heart rate and temperature.

She hadn't changed in the armoring room itself because that one was festooned with cameras; cameras that were in use right now by all her friends. Not to mention her mother. Feeling a little self-conscious under all that attention, she quickly padded across the room and stepped into the boots. "Okay, Jarvis, start the armoring up sequence," she ordered.

The Slayer had run simulation after simulation of this procedure, had tested this out several times in the holocage, and had Tonya's memories of undergoing this thousands of times. And still there were butterflies fluttering around her stomach as the AI acknowledged her command.

With a whirring sound the boots closed around her lower legs, a sound that was nearly drowned out by the noise made by the mechanical arms that were descending from the ceiling and popping up from the floor carrying the other pieces of the Mark II. The adamantium frame was first, covering her upper legs and torso in quick succession before the armor plating covered it all up.

Gently, Buffy extended her arms to slip her hands into the armored gauntlets that the robotic arms were holding up for her. Only after they sensed she'd slipped into them did they move up her arm guided by the many cameras that ensured the armor was being placed where the blonde was. The upper arm pieces clicked into place and the robotic arms moved out of the way for another pair carrying the asymmetrical pieces of the helmet.

She knew the arms were more accurate than the best human surgeon, but it still took some effort to not flinch as the pieces closed around her head. It probably would have been even more difficult if the faceplate hadn't been up, but even so the final clicks were so close to her ears that they were uncomfortably loud. They also, though, signaled that the procedure was over.

Buffy didn't pull the faceplate down right away, instead she took a few moments to admire her work through unaided sight. Holding up her right arm she watched the articulated fingers flex and her wrist rotate smoothly as if she wasn't wearing armor that weighed a few hundred pounds.

It was a sight that was both intimately familiar and odd at the same time, the latter probably had much to do with the color scheme she'd gone with in an effort to make her armor a little less recognizable. Where Tonya's suit had been red and gold, this one was dark blue and blood red, the only exception was the faceplate where Buffy had kept the original color of the gold-titanium alloy that covered the suit.

"Anything wrong?" Willow's voice broke in through the armor's communication-system.

Reminded of the fact that she had an audience, she lowered the faceplate which triggered the activation of the suit's HUD. "Nah, just admiring my own handiwork," Buffy retorted as various read-outs appeared in front of her, including a list of the suit's current armament.

The repulsors in her hands and on her chest were listed, of course, along with the collapsible swords stashed in the underside of her lower arms. Rounding out the list were her non-lethals, the directional sonic scrambler in her right arm and electric blaster in her left. That was the extent of the offensive capabilities of the basic Mark II, which was the configuration they'd be testing today.

The first test was of the suit's sensors which went off without a hitch, not that Buffy had expected anything else since they were basically a more refined version of the ones used in the Mark I. Getting a little impatient, Buffy decided to rearrange the test-schedule a bit. "Jarvis, do a weather and ATC check. It's time to stretch this puppy's legs," she said as she walked out of the armoring room and into the adjacent launch-silo.

It wasn't really a silo as it was still inside the building, but it was round and went all the way up to the roof so it was as good a designation as any. "Buffy," Willow squawked, "that's not what we agreed on! You said we'd take things slow, you haven't even, like, test-fired the repulsors or checked out the armor's articulation and control-surfaces!"

"The articulation feels fine to me, Wills," she assured her friend. "But thanks for reminding me about the control-surfaces. Jarvis, please check those out." Jarvis, who'd just put the information on air-traffic and the current weather up on her HUD set out on this new task without complaint. 'Hmm, looks like a fine night for flying.'

"Fine, but if something goes horribly wrong and you fall to a horrible death don't go complaining to me afterwards, missy," Willow grouched.

"Oh, I won't," she assured her friend. "I'll just stay quiet and nod my broken neck while you tell me you told me so," the blonde quipped. With all the preflight checks done, it was time to get going. "Open the roof, please," she added the last word to mollify her friend. She appreciated Willow's concern but didn't share it.

The iris several stories above Buffy slid open as the holographic projectors stopped projecting a solid hologram of a skylight to switch to one that was purely an optical illusion that included a cone of sky right above the silo to prevent any onlookers from witnessing the launch. "Time to light the candle," Buffy said as she triggered her repulsors.

Accelerating out of the silo she quickly leveled off to fly away from Sunnydale and towards the distant mountains to the east. "Looks like I won't be plummeting to my death after all," she reported back.

It earned her a scolding "Buffy" from her Mom. She flinched, the blonde had forgotten for a moment she was there. So Buffy got back to reporting her experiences with the armor. "No heat build-up so far and the energy-drain is well within expectations." Doing a little slalom around some imaginary obstacles she continued. "And she handles like a dream."

"Wish I was there with you, Buffster," Xander said upon hearing that.

"Sorry Xan, but you're just too tall for the Mark II." 'Tonya would have been too,' flitted through her mind. That fact had given her a few headaches while she was designing the new armor as it meant Buffy had less space to work with than Tonya had. "Okay, next trick. Emergency stop."

The blonde threw her hands and feet forward to reverse her thrust while flaps extended to break her speed even more. In fact, Buffy had been a little too enthusiastic and a few heartbeats later she was plummeting towards the waiting trees below. With Willow and her mother shouting her name in her ear Buffy got her legs back underneath her and opened up her repulsors again to get some lift.

Her friends were silent a moment longer after the Slayer had managed to go into a hover and then Willow simply said, "I told you so."

"You did," Buffy admitted. "Forgot the differences in performance between my suit and Tonya's for a moment, won't happen again," she assured the people back at SI. "I'll head back after this last test."

"What test?" her Mom asked.

"The one that involves flying into the stratosphere. I want to check how thin the atmosphere can be before it starts to seriously impact repulsor efficiency. Here goes!" she called out as she opened up on her repulsors. She only held back just enough to prevent the armor from breaking the sound-barrier as the blonde rocketed towards the stars.

'The Mark II feels right, in a way the Mark I never did,' Buffy reflected as the distance between her and the ground went from feet into miles. 'The Mark I is something you drive, like it's a small airplane or helicopter. This armor, though, this feels like it's a part of you. Like the power to fly comes from me,' she thought as she upped the output on the repuslors a bit.

"I'm reaching 8 miles, no sign of icing or any other problems," the Slayer reported back. "Anybody picking me up on radar?" She wasn't expecting an affirmative answer since she made for a pretty small target but it would give Willow something to do.

"Uhm, no, Jarvis isn't picking anything up anyway."

"Good. Just passed the 10 mile mark, repulsors aren't showing any appreciable degradation in thrust." With the chance of encountering an obstacle on her flight path now going from vanishingly small to ludicrous, Buffy chanced a look around. Stunned, she held her breath as the Earth visibly curved away from her. Out in the distance, a sliver of the sky held a blue haze as the sun's rays still reached that point.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

"It is," a hushed Willow agreed over the com reminding Buffy her friends were seeing this too. So she tilted her head back up to give them a view of the stars, which should look better with the lack of light-pollution on this altitude. She'd barely looked up, however, when the left palm-repulsor unexpectedly reduced thrust.

Her gaze shot back down even as she shifted her position a little in an effort to compensate. "What-?" The repulsor flared up again as did the one in her left boot while it was the right boot's repulsor's turn to peter out. This time, there was no way to compensate and she was wrenched from her flightpath and into a series of careening loops. Warning symbols flared up on her flickering display, but it was a little hard to focus on them right now.

"Buffy! What's wrong! Are you okay?" Her mom and her friends were all speaking over each other, adding to the chaos as the repulsors continued to go haywire. Flaring up, cutting off or simply giving her a fraction of the thrust Buffy wanted they continued to bounce her around the sky. Panic gripped her as Tonya's memories of her disastrous first flight paired themselves what was happening right now, paralyzing the blonde for a few precious moments longer.

'No.' Buffy didn't know exactly what she was saying no against, but it was important that she did. Giving up on her attempts to stabilize her flight she simply shut her repulsors down. She was going up at the time, spinning all the way, and so her body described an arc before inexorably going down.

"Quiet!" the Slayer ordered as she twisted her body to face the ground so very far below her. "You're not helping." She assumed the classic skydiving position her instincts dragged up from the murky depths of Tonya's memories, the armor's control surfaces flaring out to increase her drag even more. "Jarvis, what's wrong?"

Thankfully, the AI had known what to do from the moment things had gone wrong and was ready with a summary. "It's the new arc reactor, Ma'am."

"The arc reactor?" Buffy exclaimed. She'd designed a new version for the Mark II, one that was better able to provide maximum output for long stretches. But the blonde had known better than to put an untested prototype into the actual suit; so she'd used that one to see if she'd succeeded and the reactor had come through with flying colors, after which she'd built the one now powering her suit. So why was this one crapping out on her?

"Yes, Ma'am," Jarvis confirmed with infinite patience. "The neutron radiation deteriorated the palladium core asymmetrically causing an irregular supply of power. The suit's power management system attempted to compensate..."

"Causing the repulsors' thrust to vary wildly," she finished for him. 'Good thing I don't have it in my chest.'

"Indeed."

'The prototype didn't show this problem,' Buffy thought. 'So something must have gone wrong during production.' Not that it helped her right now. "Wait, is that problem ongoing?"

"No, Ma'am, it seems to have stopped after you shut down the repulsors." Meaning it was only a problem if the reactor was put above a certain amount of strain.

"Got it," Buffy said. She really wanted to go over her plan, check it with the AI to see if the numbers all worked out but there was no time. The details on the ground were starting to get... well, detailed. Restricting power to a quarter of what the repulsors could put out, the blonde started them up again. 'Let's hope I guessed right.'

First were the repulsors on her palms and chest as she used just enough power to slow her descent down, unsupported her legs were naturally dragged down and as soon as they did, Buffy started her boot-repulsors up. Carried by five small beams of force Buffy came to a gentle stop.

It was only then that she paid attention to her altimeter's reading. 'Made it, with 224 feet to spare.' The thought was drowned out by the relieved shouts from her friends.

"Buffy," her mom started but the blonde quickly cut her off. "Mom, I know what you're going to say and the answer is no. I will do this again. In fact, I'll be flying this armor back to SI starting now. It's going to take me a while," she explained to everybody. "Can't go very fast on one quarter power." And she was more than 30 miles away from Sunnydale.

"Honey, you almost died!"

"But I didn't," she pointed out. "Look, could we talk about this face-to-face?"

Her mother staid silent for a moment, then grudgingly she agreed.

VVV

Mrs. Summers didn't look happy, a feeling Xander wasn't sharing. He was still too relieved he hadn't had to watch helplessly as his friend plummeted to her death. But they all respected the source of her unhappiness, concern for Buffy's safety, and left her alone.

'That little scare was good for one thing, it finally got my mind off of Cordelia,' the boy reflected. That the brunette was preoccupied with her father and his financial problems didn't surprise him, but that she'd come to him for more help this afternoon had. Oh sure, he was the one to break the news to her initially and he'd been there as she'd gone over Jarvis his evidence, but what she'd asked of Xander an hour ago Cordelia could just as easily have asked of Buffy.

It would actually make more sense for the cheerleader to ask the blonde, she'd met Buffy first and it was her AI in the end. But this was a new Cordelia he was dealing with, one that was growing unsure of not just her future but her present too. She'd considered herself well-off, had planned out her future on that basis, and now she was discovering that it was not the certainty she'd always thought it was.

And Xander could tell. Her snark had been almost perfunctory, a reflex she gave little thought to and there had been several moments where Cordelia had looked at him like he was an equal. 'Just plain unnatural,' he concluded.

They were all roused from their thoughts by a soft alarm whooping through the lab. "An intruder has just appeared in Lab 3," Jarvis announced. "Activating sonic scramblers." There was a pause and the group relaxed, knowing that the security system would take care of this intruder. "They are ineffective, the intruder is inconvenienced but still mobile." The AI sounded slightly miffed.

His reaction was automatic, his gaze going over his surroundings to take inventory of the weapons available to him. There wasn't a lot, and his preferred ones were on the other side of the complex. Then his eye caught the sight of the Mark I standing in a corner. Willow had damaged it in her sole flight, but she'd long since repaired the damage so now it was ready to go. He was already speeding towards it, slipping out of his sneakers along the way, when Jarvis' word choice hit him. "What do you mean, appeared?" Xander wondered as he slid into the armor.

"I can find no clue as to how or when he entered the facility," Jarvis explained. "The intruder simply appeared on my sensors in Lab 3."

"And I'm still half an hour away," Buffy cursed over the open com.

The armor closed around him, the AI putting a feed of the relevant security cam up on the armor's display as soon as it had booted up. The guy on it reminded Xander of Willy, only less shady and wearing a fedora. He also looked like he wasn't enjoying Jarvis' welcome one bit. 'Not human,' Xander concluded.

Addressing both Buffy and the others, Xander started to walk towards the door. "Don't worry, I'll deal with him."

VVV

Whistler scratched his head as he looked around the room containing all manners of gizmos and doodads. He'd been wandering around the place for a while now, and he still hadn't managed to find Acathla's exact location. It was hard enough to feel it out with the Hellmouth blaring in the distance but for some reason this building felt a little... fuzzy to his more exotic senses. Like there was a second kind of interference going on, but Whistler had yet to find any evidence the people here were dabbling with magic or the like.

Of course, they did have Acathla so maybe he just hadn't looked close enough yet. The balance demon sighed. He had thought this little excursion would be a welcome breather from rehabilitating that damn vampire he'd been stuck with these past weeks. 'It's not like he could've expected a long and happy life with her anyway, she's human! Not exactly a species known for their longevity,' he thought with a mental headshake.

It was not a thought he could share with Angel, and his normal state of mind was quite hard to distinguish from outright depression which meant Whistler had been forced to spend way too much time in his brooding company. He wished he could say his own pessimistic mood was the vampire's fault, but in truth his own employers were as much to blame.

First they'd had him sit tight in LA getting Angel back with the program, and stay there even after he'd hinted that giving the vampire some action would help. And now, suddenly, they'd had him scramble to do several things at once. Whistler didn't know why the Powers That Be wanted that factory belonging to the Iron Monger Cahrus shut down, but he'd dropped off Angel near that Family Home shelter anyway. He'd raise a ruckus, save some humans, and most importantly, close the portal to the pocket-dimension the factory occupied. His employers had indicated that was the most important thing, though Whistler knew better than to let Angel know that. No, best to leave him thinking it was all about rescuing the slaves.

The balance demon himself had been sent to find Acathla and that search had brought him here, in this virtually unoccupied complex. He was almost sure the demonic statue was in the basement, but he hadn't been able to find the entrance. Apparently, the part he wanted to reach had a separate entrance that was infernally hard to find.

Now he was in this room taking a breather and gathering his thoughts, and to relax a bit because keeping himself unnoticed for so long was bad for his brain. Right now, it felt like five sets of tweezers were plucking at it so being able to relax in this room where nobody could see him was a great relief. A relief that only held for a brief time before sound pierced the quiet.

It wasn't too loud, but it was high, so high a human wouldn't have been able to hear it in fact. 'Can't a demon catch a break?' he lamented as the sound stabbed at his nervous system. Bile rose up, burning his throat before Whistler managed to fight it down leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

From a single tone it went through a range of frequencies even as the volume rose. The world doubled before him, before deciding to dance a whirly jig as the noise went through a whole range of auditory attacks. Like a cat trying to play a waltz with his nails on a chalkboard. 'I must have tripped some alarm, careless,' he concluded as he took a shaky step towards where the door was... probably.

It seemed to take an eternity before his other leg followed suit and another step had been taken, then, just as suddenly as the assault had started, did it end as the door opened automatically. The doorframe was filled by a hulking metal figure that had to slide into the room leading with its right shoulder and ducking its head slightly.

Still feeling a little jittery Whistler backed off. He had recovered enough, though, to notice that the glowing circle in the thing's was the source of that fuzzy feeling he'd noticed earlier. 'No,' he corrected himself. 'Not the source, a source,' he judged as his senses cleared up. It was also then that he finally realized what he was looking at. 'A suit of frigging armor?'

The armored figure raised its right hand up to point a glowing circle on its palm at Whistler. "Don't move," it ordered.

Whistler complied in that he didn't move back anymore, instead he tugged at his jacket and set his fedora at a more jaunty angle while looking as harmless as he could. "Hey, just looking for the bathroom. The door was open and I didn't think you'd mind," he explained.

"I know you're a demon," the armored individual explained nicely while its palm didn't sag an inch.

"It's not illegal being a demon."

"Trespassing is," the human pointed out. "Normally, we'd just slay you, but Buffy wants to know how you got in. I suggest you answer her," he added but Whistler barely heard it. 'Buffy! And it did say Summers Industries at the entrance... This place is the Slayer's?' he wondered with some horror as he gave the suit another look.

There was no way to tell just how powerful that thing was, but from what he could sense of the power source it was nothing to sneeze at. A suit that was quite obviously not piloted by the Slayer, which meant a normal human now could have this power at its fingertips. And the more he looked at it, the more it looked like technology. Which meant it could be produced in numbers and that didn't sound like a very balanced thing. That sounded more like arms-races and winning, and where would that leave his employers? Or him for that matter?

Still, there was the matter of what he was sent to find. Putting his hands up, he made a production of sighing in defeat. "Alright, alright. I surrender... Say, you didn't happen to see this big statue of a demon around here? Can't miss it, it's got a sword sticking out of its chest."

Something whirred to life within the suit as the armored figure's posture shifted slightly. "Who wants to know?" he countered giving away exactly what Whistler wanted to know. 'So the Slayer has Acathla... And with security this tight, it should be safe for the moment. Not like we want to actually do anything with it, no, it can rot here.'

And he needed to tell his employers the Slayer was busy with things she wasn't supposed to have any business with. They would be interested... 'Wait a minute, why did Angel keep quiet on all this?' he suddenly thought. 'No, think about that later. Right now, you need to get away.'

"I do," Whistler replied. "Now could we find a bathroom, I really do need to go."

The visor gave nothing away but somehow the balance demon was pretty sure the armored figure was looking oddly at him. He said nothing, but stepped out of the way and motioned for him to go first. Keeping his smile and hands up, Whistler walked through the door. "Go right," the human told him.

The balance demon nodded and did so straining his ear as he made the turn. The moment he heard the armor start to move he activated his ability and threw himself through the wall. A sledgehammer pounded the wall a moment later but Whistler was already in the next room and running hard.

He'd almost managed to get out when the complex was filled with that same noise that had tortured his ears earlier causing him to stumble. His luck was with him this time, though, because his stumble took him forward through the wall and outside, cutting the sounds off abruptly. "I am not coming back here," he vowed softly. "They can find someone else for that."

Joyce's Gallery

"Good morning, Ma'am. How are you today?" a smooth voice greeted Joyce as she stepped through the door of her gallery. Even after hearing the same thing for the last three days it still took her by surprise, having a conversation with a computer.

"I'm fine, Jarvis," Joyce responded. She still didn't quite know how her talk with Buffy about the risks she was taking had ended up becoming a debate over her own security. Buffy had been eager to start wiring camera's and all sorts of devices in their home right away, all monitored by her AI. Joyce had balked at the invasion of privacy her plans implicated, even more so when Buffy didn't understand her mother's concern.

Seeing how concerned Buffy was for her safety, though, she'd caved just a little and had allowed her daughter to install additional security at the gallery as a trial, of sorts. So far, Joyce had been equal parts impressed and unnerved by this artificial person Buffy had created. Jarvis sounded intelligent and very much aware of what he was, yet there was also a curious lack of emotion. A person was supposed to have some measure of self-interest but Jarvis showed no sign of it. "Did anything happen last night?" she inquired.

"There were several people who took some time to examine the pieces at the window, and a group of three vampires passed by at 11:54. I passed on their location to Miss Summers and she dispatched them soon after," Jarvis summed up dryly.

"Flying around in that armor, no doubt. I wish she didn't take such risks."

"On the contrary, the armor has reduced the chance my creator's death in combat from virtual certainty to a likely possibility. Perhaps ma'am will be more comforted after a review of the relevant statistics?"

'And there I was, foolishly thinking parenting Buffy would be easier now that I knew her big secret,' Joyce thought. "That won't be necessary," she told the AI without even trying to hide her discomfort with the reminder of the risks Buffy was taking. Risks she'd been taking for years without Joyce even noticing. And now she was confronted with this new Buffy who's enthusiasm wasn't for boys, gossip, and shoes... On second thought, shoes could still get her attention. But mostly, her daughter was either talking about hunting demons or whatever new invention she was working on.

Sometimes, it was like Buffy had been replaced by a stranger wearing her face. But that was an illusion, brought on by Joyce's failure to notice what her daughter was going through. How she grew to cope with being... well, being a superhero. Her little girl had grown up into the kind of young woman she was proud to call her daughter, but Joyce hadn't noticed just because other people told her she was a trouble-maker. And she'd believed it, even when her own eyes told a different story. 'Well, not anymore.'

Turning her thoughts to more happy topics, Mrs. Summers went into the back of the gallery to start opening the latest shipment. Surveying the boxes she still couldn't believe the bargain she'd had getting all these fine examples of West-African tribal art for such a low price.

There was so much that she couldn't showcase it all. 'Hmm, maybe I should take a few of these home with me? If I have to store them for a while, then they might as well spruce up my house in the mean time.'

Summers Industries, Sunnydale branch

The gray-and-white cat was pacing its cage, hissing at Miss Calendar when she leaned closer to examine the feline. She didn't step back, but she did wrinkle her nose as she got a stronger dose of the animal's smell. "It smells dead," she noted. "And it looks dead."

"That's because it is dead," Buffy stated with annoyed certainty. Her ire, however, seemed to be reserved for the situation and not Jenny. The computer teacher had noticed Buffy's anger with her dissolving over the past few weeks, but this was the first time the blonde had gone from polite but distant to simply talking to her as a real person. "No heartbeat and his body-warmth is only slightly above room-temperature."

"Yet it is moving around, that is interesting," Oz chimed in seemingly unpertubed by the stench.

"Nice pet, Buffy," Cordelia mocked standing next to Xander. Jenny was wondering what she was doing here again, the cheerleader had been visiting the complex often lately. Oh, she knew about the girl's parents' financial situation, but that reason was now wearing very thin. Right now, though, there was a more immediate mystery that required her attention.

"It's not mine, it just died in our basement." Buffy remained silent for a moment as a thoughtful look crossed her features. "And then it rose from the grave and went straight back into the house," the blonde mused.

"That sounds like the cat was trying to emulate what it was last doing when it was still alive. Did it go to the basement?" Rupert inquired.

The Slayer shook her head. "No, it went straight into my mother's bedroom."

"This is probably the work of someone new to necromancy, they almost always start with animals," Jenny opined. "Did you get any new neighbors recently?"

"Uhmmm, not that I know... There was Mrs. Kalish from across the street. One of the Tarakans killed her," she explained with a pained voice. "A couple moved in just before I went to LA for the summer, but they don't strike me as the type to go out and raise dead cats from the grave. I think they're more dog-persons," Buffy joked.

"Ah, yes, uhm, and you are certain the cat was truly dead when you buried it?" Rupert prodded.

"Well, it wasn't moving but apart from that it looked and smelled just about like it does now," his Slayer retorted.

"Guess that means we need to hit the books," Willow noted happily. She'd shown a real aptitude for magic, making great strides in learning the basics in the short amount of time Jenny had been helping her with her project.

Unfortunately, this had not translated in equally fast progress on that project, but that didn't stop the redhead from wanting to learn more. To be honest, Jenny was getting a little concerned Willow was going too fast. 'Best if I keep her focused on getting that magic-sensor to work, don't want her delving into topics she isn't ready for just because she's frustrated with her progress in one area.'

"Guess so," Buffy agreed with far less enthusiasm. "You know, Jarvis could have narrowed down our search already," she started to say before Giles interrupted her.

"We've already been over this, Buffy. The Moloch-incident has shown the danger of computerizing my books."

"But that happened 'cause we got careless. If you preapprove every book that goes into the database we won't have that problem."

"Which means we can put the party back into the word research-party!" Xander enthused.

"Or set the building on fire simply because scanning is metaphysically the same as reading. Or perhaps it will simply turn the scanner into a flowerpot. There are numerous dangers involved with such a proposal. I cannot in good conscience support it," Rupert finished.

Jenny agreed, for the most part. But there was a compromise there, to exclude all books containing magic and simply settle for a demon-database, yet she didn't speak up and propose it. Rupert was already taxed far too much, he didn't need another project eating up what little personal time he had left. "I think it would be best if we leave the cat here," she said instead.

Buffy looked at her, and suddenly seemed to realize who she was. She didn't fall back into that distant form of address, though. "Oh, I don't know. It could be our new mascot. We'd call it Patches and Giles could let it guard his precious books when we're not there."

VVV

The suit dragged noticeably more with the combat-pack attached to her back; Buffy had to use a little more juice to stay in the air which, was problematic when she was trying to keep her speed down. Hard to see what was going on down below if you went too fast.

It was made worse by the extra pair of repulsors she'd put on the pack to counteract that decrease in the armor's aerodynamic form, the increase in weight, and the fact that several of the suit's flaps were unusable in this configuration. Those extra repulsors gave her more thrust, but it also made flying the armor a little more finnicky than she'd thought it would.

As a result, she was putting less than her full attention into surveying her surroundings. Patrolling from the air was more efficient, but not when you could only keep one eye on the ground. She also missed having her friends tag along. Talking to them over the com just wasn't the same. "So Giles still doesn't know what brought Patches back to, uhm, existence?"

"Nothing since the last time you asked," Willow told her from SI where she was keeping an eye on Buffy and Xander who was patrolling the area close to the complex. "Just like the last time you asked, and the time before that," her redheaded friend added. "And without more clues, I don't see how he can. Are you sure there wasn't anything at the cat's grave? Some blood, or a bone?"

"Nothing," Buffy grouched. "Nothing but a hole in the ground where Patches dug himself out." Sighing, she bit back her frustration. "Sorry about that, I'm just worried this is the start of something bigger. I just don't know wh-" The blonde broke off as her suit's display drew her attention to a shuffling figure below her. Like a vampire, its body-temperature was no higher than that of the surrounding air, but no vampire would move like that. "Hold on, I think that something bigger is starting. Tell Xander to stay on his toes, I'm going in for a closer look."

Rotating herself into a horizontal position was enough to bring herself to a stop, then she lowered herself to the ground. When she was still a few feet in the air, Buffy cut off her repulsors and let herself fall the rest of the way. She hit the grass with enough force to make an impression in the soft soil, but it also muffled the sound of her landing.

Straightening out, the Slayer took those moments to get a closer look at the shuffler. He was dressed in a suit and didn't just walk like a movie-zombie, he looked like one too. Its skin was greyish green, what was left of it as there were several spots where it had rotten away. It gave a moan but it was hard to tell if this was a sign he noticed her because there was no other indication he noticed Buffy; its eyes didn't focus on her nor did it stop for a moment at Buffy's arrival.

The zombie continued on its path, which would take him straight through the spot where Buffy stood, without any sign of intelligence. It was a walking corpse, and that made it easier for the blonde to raise her hand at the zombie and blast it with her palm-repulsor. The undead flew back, rolling over the ground until it came to bone breaking stop against a lamppost. The corpse lay still for a moment, then it twitched before standing up to resume walking.

'It's coming right back,' Buffy realized. His gait was even jerkier now, but the zombie's blank expression showed no sign of pain. 'Alright, lets try a blast from the chest unit.' The beam lashed out and enveloped the zombie's head. The short burst was gone as fast as it had connected leaving nothing but empty air where a head had been. The body jerked back like it was going to fall, then it righted itself and started to walk again.

"What the..." Swallowing the rest of her curse, Buffy gave up on trying to stop this thing with repulsors. 'I don't know how much of its head is intact, but there's no way I'll be able to find it easily. Guess I'll have to let it get a little closer so I can use my...' An icon appeared on the Slayer's display, interrupting her thoughts. Her suit, now that it knew what the moans meant, drew Buffy's attention to several more sources of that sound moving past her on the left. 'More of them?' It was hard to tell with all the trees and brushes between her and the moans. She couldn't afford not to take a look.

Giving the headless zombie one last look, Buffy activated her repulsors and took to the skies. Sure enough, a group of four was slowly walking through the park. "Willow, are you seeing this?"

"I do. And Xander just called about them too, he's only fighting one but he's not having much luck."

"Okay, tell Giles what's happening. Maybe with this, he's got a better clue on..."

"I already did that when you encountered the first one, but he still isn't sure what's going on," Willow broke in.

"Hmmm, suit, extrapolate course of targets based on observed movement," Buffy ordered. Lines appeared on her display stretching out over Sunnydale, icons popping up as they hit possible destinations. 'The Mall? No, too cliché,' she dismissed before another icon caught her eye and things clicked. 'My house? Mom!' Not wasting any more time with other possibilities Buffy blasted off. 'Of course, how stupid of me. That damn cat practically showed me what this is about, I knew that mask was evil the moment I saw it.'

"Willow, I know what this is about. My Mom put some African art up from the gallery, Nigerian I think. It all started after she hung them up. That's got to be it!"

1630 Revello Drive

Joyce had just turned the page on her book when a crash downstairs startled her. 'What?' More noise reached her, the sound of glass breaking mingled with something heavy hitting wood. 'They're breaking into my home!' Dropping the book, Joyce shot out of bed and reached for the phone only to stop when she wondered if the police could help her in this case. Were these just your average burglar or maybe they were vampires?

Judging from the racket they were making, it wasn't thieves. 'A case for the police, or Buffy?' They were stumbling around down there, but nobody was talking. 'Buffy or the police?' Straining her ears Joyce caught faint moaning. And not all of it was coming from inside her house. The first heavy footfall on her stairs clinched it for her. Punching in the number with one hand she started to drag a cabinet against the door with another.

It barely rang once before Buffy picked up. "Buffy! There's a group in the house! They're coming through the windows and..."

"I know, I'm already on my way!" Buffy interrupted sounding distressed herself. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured her daughter. "They're still on the stairs. I'm in my bedroom trying to, ungh, barricade the door," Joyce explained sliding the cabinet against the door with a thump.

"Good, that's good. Stay away from the windows," Buffy warned her. Before she had a chance to ask why, a high-pitched sound came from outside, rapidly growing louder until it cut off right as her bedroom window exploded inward and her daughter's balled up form flew into her room. The impact of Buffy's armored boots hitting the floor reverberated through the house and when she straightened out the floor groaned ominously.

Joyce had never been this close to the armor her daughter had made, had only seen it with the naked eye once and that was when it was being taken off of her daughter in a brightly lit room. So she was unprepared for how intimidating that dark figure looked even though she knew it was Buffy's face behind that armor. The only thing that saved it from being a menacing dark silhouette was the glowing circle in the suit's chest, but still its dark hues gave it a grim look. A look that the golden faceplate shared.

Joyce was so preoccupied by Buffy's appearance that she forgot about the intruders coming up the stairs. Which was why she jumped when something slammed into her bedroom-door. The elder Summers turned towards the door just in time to see the cabinet slide away and the door start to open as the intruder hit the door again.

VVV

'She's okay, I made it.' Relief flooded through Buffy, robbing her of her voice for the moment. The cabinet placed in front of the door slid back a little as something rammed into the door. 'And not a moment too soon,' the blonde thought grimly as another push created an opening big enough for a zombie to start forcing his way into her Mom's bedroom.

Her mother was already backing away when Buffy walked up to the zombie now stuck in between the door and the doorframe. This one had obviously died in a fire, its skin burned and partially melted. It made Buffy grateful she had gold-titanium gloves between her and the zombie when she grabbed its head and snapped its neck. 'There, quick and clean. Don't want to add to the cleaning bill, Mom's already going to have a heart-attack as it stands.'

Looking beyond the zombie and into the hallway the Slayer could see the other zombies advance in her direction. None of them wandered off to any of the other rooms on this floor. 'They're homing in on this room, it has got to be the mask.' Turning around she looked at where it had hung, but the space was empty. 'I must have knocked...' Her eyes were already traveling down to search the floor when she heard the grating sound of bone sliding over bone.

A look at the now thoroughly breached barricade showed the burned zombie getting up, his head slowly twisting back into its proper direction even as other zombies tried to pull him away or simply climbed over him. 'Mom can't stay here, and if I try to fight full-out I'll bring the house down.'

"Hold on, I'm getting you out of here," Buffy told her Mom as she scooped her up. It took a few precious seconds to make sure her Mom's nightgown wasn't tangled up in the guiding-tubes of her plasma-whips but then she was ready. The blonde could simply step out the way she'd come in, but that would mean trusting the porch's roof would hold her weight. Not something she could gamble on with her mother in her arms.

"Buffy, what do you think you're doing?" Mom asked nervously right before Buffy jumped out of the window, triggering her boot-repulsors the moment she cleared the windowsill. Her mom yelped as they were lifted up in the sky, then again when Buffy shut her repulsors down and they began to plummet to the ground.

She landed in their frontyard, which still had several zombies. There were even more on the porch trying to get into her home. Bending her knees to absorb the impact, her feet sank into the soft ground right in front of one of the walking dead. There wasn't even time to put Mom down, all the Slayer could do was kick the clawing corpse away.

Once that was done, she could let go of her mother. "Duck," Buffy ordered. "I'm going to try and clear the yard," she explained as she triggered the release of her right whip. The guiding-tube extended a bit so that she could reach the handle, which had been magnetically attached to the side of her lower arm, with her hand. The handle was where most of the controls were, including the one that would get the actual whip to start uncoiling.

It only took a heartbeat for a decent length to pool at her foot, then with a twist of her arm she sent its metal segments flying. At the same time Buffy triggered the plasma-whip and the air crackled as the energy supplied by the arc reactor housed within the pack raced along its length. The whip met a zombie and passed through it with little resistance, slicing its torso in two from hip to shoulder, another zombie lost the top of its head on the return stroke before Buffy shut off its power.

'It's weird. Firing my repulsors feels so familiar, yet it's using these whips that feels right. But Tonya never used them.' There wasn't any blood, not on the whip nor on the grass after the pieces fell off. But whatever semblance of life imbued the corpses was still in there as well because the mutilated undead began to stand up and walk again. Even the severed piece of the torso was pulling its way towards the house with its remaining arm.

"Dammit," Buffy cursed softly. She didn't want her Mom to hear. "What does it take to actually kill one of these guys?" Almost as if to answer, her display beeped and a notice appeared to let her know she had an incoming call from Giles. "Please tell me you've got something?"

"I do. Willow said that there was a Nigerian mask among the items your Mother bought recently?"

"Yeah, it's hanging in her bedroom. It's what causing this, isn't it?" She'd already reached that conclusion herself, but that didn't help her. "But if you're suggesting I go find it right now, forget it. I am not leaving my Mom alone with a bunch of zombies."

"Buffy, you must! If I am correct then that mask belongs to the zombie demon Ovu Mobani. If one of the zombies puts it on it will become the vessel for the demon's spirit. It will become the demon!" A flash of light from her mother's bedroom drew her attention. Almost right away, the racing zombies slowed down and some even seemed to be backing away.

"Uh, I think it's a little late now Giles." A figure now appeared at the broken window, looking down at Buffy. It was wearing the mask, though it had apparently morphed a bit to fit the dead girl's face better. "I live." it said in a surprisingly deep voice, "now you die."

Having said this, it stepped onto the porch's roof and walked off of it to land on the ground with some grace. Maybe it got that from its host, which judging from the cheerleader outfit must have had some measure of it once.

In her haste to warn her mother, she shut off her comlink with Giles. "Mom, run," Buffy told her as she stepped in between her and the demon.

"Buffy," Joyce protested but the Slayer didn't want to hear it. Not right now.

"Run!" the blonde half-yelled as she whirred her whip above her head and triggered it. She waited until she heard her mom footsteps before sending the plasma-whip at Oval Mobster. Instead of slicing through its flesh like butter, though, it wrapped around its middle.

It wasn't the clothes that were protecting it, because those were gone as soon as the whip touched them, exposing a fair amount of skin to Buffy. That would have been a nice sight once, before its host had been dead for at least a few days. Now the sight was sure to be a part of some of the Slayer's less pleasant dreams. But other than redden where the whip touched it, the demon's skin remained intact.

"Get Giles back on the line!" She didn't hear Jarvis' reply because a light blinded her. The next thing she knew she was knocked off her feet with the demon way closer than she had been a moment before. "What the hell?" The whip had shut off too, not that it had been doing much good. So as she stood up, Buffy retracted it fully and let the handle reattach itself to her forearm.

"Jarvis, analysis," she snapped as she planted a fist in the demon's stomach. "What just happened?" The counterpunch rocked the blond's head to the side, but the demon went sprawling when Buffy returned the favor. "And has Giles answered?"

"He has, Ma'am. I will put him through now. As for what just occurred, the demon emitted a burst of light from its eyes that temporarily stupefied your mind. I can filter out the light burst, however, I cannot say with any certainty that this will work if the cause is actually mystical."

"Do-" The demon was still on the ground, but looking up at Buffy when another burst of light cut her off. When time resumed, it was the Slayer who was lying on the ground and the demon was on straddling her. Her fingers searching for an opening to reach Buffy's much more vulnerable flesh.

"Screw this," Buffy growled. Twisting her wrists in a precise fashion with her fingers curled just a bit, she commanded her armor to release her swords. The panels at the bottom of her underarms slid open and the handles swung out and into her waiting hands; their blades began to unfold even before her fingers curled around the handles leaving Buffy with a pair of short swords. Those she proceeded to ram into the demon's offending eyes, almost to the hilt.

The demon screamed as it threw its head back, its hands clawing at the swords in an attempt to dislodge them. Firing up her palm-repulsors Buffy was about to blast the demon off of her when Ovalquick simply dissolved into light particles that vanished in an unfelt wind. And the remaining zombies followed her example, vanishing without a trace.

"Buffy, did you hear me?" Giles asked loudly. "You must take out the demon's eyes. They are the source of his power."

Looking around and seeing her mother standing across the street looking very much safe and sound, Buffy didn't answer. "God, I hate Mondays."

TO BE CONTINUED