Chapter 5

California - home of sun, sand, blonde hardbodies and fun. And Harleys. Willow Rosenberg was sitting on the front steps of her home wistfully watching a vintage Harley percolate past. For once, neither Xander nor Oz was in her thoughts. The motorcycle and its rider were keeping her fully occupied. The rider was bronzed, long haired, denim clad and looked like he was looking for something. He must have noticed the wistful little red head watching him as he turned at the top of the street and cruised slowly back before coming to a complete stop at the end of the walkway leading to her house. He pushed the shades up off his face and smiled at her. Willow wondered if her knees had really turned to water or if it was just her imagination. She stood up. Good girls didn't talk to strangers, especially dark, dangerous looking strangers with impressively tattooed shoulder muscles and sweet smiles. Willow disregarded her good sense and walked down to see what the gentleman wanted. After all, wasn't she a slayerette? Hadn't she and Xander and Cordy and Oz staked majorly mean and nasty blood sucking demons, in the absence of the Slayer? Wasn't she old enough to take care of herself, like the good little witch she was? She gazed into his kinda hazely blueish eyes and decided that maybe she wasn't, but he didn't look all that dangerous.

"Uh - hi," she said softly, her expressive eyebrows raised in inquiry over her doe brown eyes.

"Hi. I'm lost."

"Oh. That happens," she agreed somewhat unhelpfully. "So, like, where were you going?"

"I'm looking for Vine Street."

"Vine. Vine? I don't think there is a Vine Street in Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale?" The man frowned, but not at Willow. "This is Sunnydale?"

"Yes."

He looked like he didn't quite know what to make of this. He pulled a map out of his saddlebags and stared at it for a moment. "How did I get here?" he wondered, mostly to himself.

"On a Harley," Willow couldn't quite help saying, envy and awe tingeing her soft voice.

He looked up from the map, saw her admiring look fastened on his pride and joy and grinned. "Yeah. But that wasn't exactly what I meant."

"Oh, sorry. But, like, there are signs, y'know. Good signs - Sorry. It's Sunnydale. Sometime you find yourself talking like an idiot without meaning to - unless it's Xander, of course."

"Xander?"

"Friend of mine. He manages idiot even when he's not here. Not that I mind," she was quick to assure him. "I mean, like, Xander and I grew up together - I'm babbling. This is, like, a bad thing. Sorry."

"It's OK." His voice was reassuring, although his look was a bit off. He was beginning to wonder how to get out of this conversation, even if the young lady was as endearing and pretty as she was.

"So, like, where did you want to be?"

He showed her on the map. "Oh, wow. You really are off in the wrong direction, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Funny thing, the signs all kept heading me this way."

"Prank? Especially nasty prank?" Somehow, Willow didn't believe this for a moment, even as she said it. Something of her own thoughts must have shown in her face.

"Very," he agreed slowly. "I'm Vince Black," he introduced himself, a thoughtful look on his face. He had a feeling that he was here for a reason. Vince Black liked to follow his feelings, even when they did cost him bounty money. Vince was a bounty hunter working for Sixkiller Enterprises. He was also a wanted ex-cop named Reno Raines. He had a sixth sense for problems. Of course, in Sunnydale, that sixth sense could get him worse than dead.

"Willow. Willow Rosenberg," she responded. They shook hands. "It's early. You could probably get there before dark. Even if you stopped for lunch."

"Probably. What's the fastest route out of town? What is that?"

The "that" in question was the heaving, twisting black vortex that was busily dumping Rayden and Siro on Giles' lawn. Willow stood there with her mouth open for a fraction of a second as she took in the cyclonic shape. "Tornado? In Sunnydale?" She seemed bewildered by this. Then it occurred to her where that tornado was touching down. "Giles!" she yelped and took off at a run.

The Harley roared behind her, pulled up to pace beside her and his gesture offering a ride was all she needed. She slid into place behind him, wrapping one slender arm around his waist, she pointed out where they needed to go.

The twister was gone as they pulled up. Giles was ushering his new guests into his home. He turned in the doorway to see what was arriving now. His eyes gleamed behind his glasses at the classic Harley pulling up in front of his house. Then he frowned as he recognized the windblown Willow dismounting from behind a total stranger. Willow ran over to him while Vince shut off the motorcycle.

"Giles! You - You're OK?" Willow sounded worried. This was not unusual. She gave the Watcher a quick visual once over to make certain he was in one piece. "I mean - there was this - uh - thing. Like a tornado - only quiet - and picky -" she ended frowning at the obviously intact Giles, house and yard. "And - non-destructive? I think I'm confused."

Vince walked up behind her, remarkably quietly for a man shod in cowboy boots. He and Giles took measuring looks at each other. If there had been a sign flashing "dangerous" over each man, it would not have been out of place. Willow shivered slightly at the currents passing around her.

"Oh. Giles, this is Vince Black. He's lost - I mean, he got - well, it's odd."

"Mr. Black," Giles acknowledged the introduction with a nod. He seemed to be doing a lot of that this morning. He might have said more, but his attention was claimed by the hot red sports car pulling into his driveway.

A tawny shagged version of Cheri stepped out of the car and stalked up to him. She looked him up and down with an almost disdainful sneer.

"Where is she?" the woman demanded.

"Where is who?"

Giles did not intercept the hand that shot out and grabbed him by the throat, although he did manage to get a hand on the wrist attached. She was strong, very strong as she bore him backward against the door frame.

"Do not play games," she ordered. He recognized the accent as vaguely Russian on the elongated vowels. "Cheri. Where is she?"

"Try looking to the side -" Cheri landed a fist on the woman's chin as she looked.

Tanya Kropotkin released Giles and nearly went to her knees from the force of the blow. She came up with murder in her eyes. Unfortunately, Giles was between her and the object of her anger; and Vince was stepping in to corral her. His arms were strong and warm around her, trapping her own arms at her sides.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you promise to behave."

There was a choke of laughter from behind Giles. Both men looked at her oddly. "Uhm - sorry. I have a friend with a very odd sense of humor. Her response to that request is usually to point out that Have was a sex maniac." She chuckled again.

"Most amusing," came Tanya's derisive response.

"Hey, I just repeat 'em, I don't make 'em up."

"Just as well."

"No attacks, for the moment?"

"As I am outnumbered, I will not attempt to finish what is between us. Agreed?"

"Agreed. I think you can let her go."

"You trust her?" Vince asked.

"About as far as I can throw her underwater - on Jupiter. But, she has never broken her word, so far as I know. And I know she has been mightily tempted - by me."

"OK." He released her. He wondered what it was about this little town that seemed to produce so many really lovely women all at once.

Inside, Rayden was observing. "The other one is back. Although she seems to have changed her hair color."

"What?" Siro stepped to the window. His heart felt on fire for a moment. Tanya, tawny haired, clad in denims and a silk shirt, made his heart ache. She elicited responses from the rest of him as well. He turned away from the window. He had believed it when he told Rayden there was no feeling for the monster. But this was no monster. This was the woman who had become the monster and then - his head began to ache from thinking about it. He felt Rayden's hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met. Siro nodded. He was here for a reason. He hoped they would find it soon and then return to their own place and time. This was getting to him.

Giles looked at the two newest additions to what he was beginning to classify as "his menagerie". "Do come in. As though my neighbors didn't have enough to worry about."

Willow smiled at him reassuringly as she stepped past him. "Maybe Buffy -" she started and then stopped dead in the doorway. Her eyes were drawn to Rayden even as his eyes were drawn to her. Power recognizes power. "Oh." Willow's voice was at it's softest.

"Willow, move."

Willow recalled herself with a start and moved into the room, though not very far. Siro's muscular bulk was intimidating, especially as he seemed to be with the white haired man who was positively radiating energy.

Rayden took it upon himself to move forward and welcome the child into the gathering. His hand was warm in hers as he led her over to the couch. She sat, never taking her eyes off of him.

Vince stepped into the house after Tanya and Giles. The room seemed very full. He nodded at Siro who returned the salute. The two of them were drawn to each other as the only non-mystically oriented people in the room. Giles saw to the introductions for those who needed them, Willow and Vince, to be exact. The room was practically vibrating around him.

Cheri looked as though she recognized his worry. "Well, what a house full. Any ideas?"

"Ideas?"

"About why we've been joined by -" she waved a hand to indicated the people in the room.

A knock at the door forestalled his need to answer. "Now what?" he muttered testily, but he knew the answer before he got the door open. Xander, Oz and Cordelia stood on his doorstep looking curious. Well, to be accurate, Xander and Oz were looking curious and worried. Cordelia was looking bored and demanding to know why she was being dragged to the librarian's house, again, on Saturday.

"*Do* come in," Giles accepted their presence with what good grace he could muster. The living room was getting crowded. Oz looked at Willow looking at Rayden looking at Willow and frowned.

Willow looked around at him. Her face lost its fuzzy, oblivious look. A joyous grin lit her face and she bounced off the couch to greet him. "Oz! It is - like - way too weird. I mean, beyond Sunnydale normal weird, y'know. It's like - some kind of - really dangerous - *thing* -." She stopped. He was looking at her in that bone melting seriously paying attention way that he had. She smiled happily and accepted his hug.

"What kind of *thing*," he asked.

"I dunno. I got to ride the Harley out front. D'you like Harleys? I do. It was - well, it would have been better if there hadn't been this black whirling tornado thing in Giles' front yard. And if I could drive - or if you had - but it was seriously cool. I mean, like - wow." Willow's burble died down.

Not far away, as the crow flies, a group of marginal mystics with just enough ability to get into trouble were staring at the demon they'd inadvertently conjured up. Most of the group was seriously aghast at the manifestation. The thing reached out and grabbed the gibbering leader of the group, melded forms with him and then shook himself. The man had always been handsome and slimy, but now he was more so. He smiled. His mouth seemed to have more and sharper teeth than any human. He reached out and ran a familiar hand over the full body of his nearest follower. She trembled at his touch, fire and ice at war within her. Fire was warmer. She allowed herself to be drawn to him. He wrapped an arm around her, kissed her willing mouth, nuzzled the side of her neck, licking at the sensitive skin below her ear. She shivered with delight. She died happy as he ripped into the side of her neck, draining her life blood in a fraction of the time it takes to tell of it. He dropped the drained and nearly mummified husk to the floor where it crumbled away to dust. Two of the remaining members fainted. "Now, where was I?" he rumbled, smiling at the panicked people around him.