A/N: First of all, thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed my story, I appreciate the feedback. As always, I have no proprietary claim to either BTVS or the works of JK Rowling. Enjoy.

TREACHERY AND TREASON

Xander groaned as he sat down, it felt like his whole body had been worked over by a Visigoth mechanic. He'd been stupid, and what's more, he knew he was being stupid and done it anyway. 'You'd think after all these years I would have learned not to try and keep up with a slayer,' he thought. But no, he had to go and fire up Buffy's competitive urges, not that they were ever buried very far. They'd been playing a little beach volleyball, he and Fleur against Buffy and Dawn. Now Xander had never been much for sports but he was a native Californian, so beach volleyball was something he was fairly good at, and being the tallest person there didn't hurt. Xander had noticed that a lot of Dawn's serves were just barely over the net, so he set himself up to take advantage of that. Just as Dawn served, Buffy took the opportunity to look at the soles of her feet, having heard Fleur talk about the natural pedicure she was getting from walking on the sand. As the ball came over the net, Xander leapt to his full height and smashed the ball back. Much to his chagrin, and amusement, the ball hit Buffy right in the side of the head. It was then that Xander made his fatal mistake. Instead of apologizing, he laughed. And not just a little snicker, but a loud, drawn out belly laugh. A laugh that was accompanied by several snarky comments about slayer vigilance; he was still stinging from having his friends spill the beans on Dracula and a few other things to Fleur, so perhaps his reaction was understandable. Xander started to realize the depth of his mistake when Buffy made no response other than a glare. After that, Xander would have sworn on a stack of bibles that there wasn't one Buffy out there, but twenty. She was everywhere, and every ball she hit came at Xander at roughly the speed of sound. Even when he tried to lob the ball deep, Buffy would jump high enough to get it and send a blistering return at Xander's head. Needless to say, he ended up rather battered. So now he was paying the price, although he had to admit that the look on Buffy's face when the ball popped her in the head was almost worth it.

Actually, despite that incident, or maybe because of it; the day had gone better than he had hoped. There had been no tension between Fleur and some of the Watcher's that had come from Wizarding families. Instead they had swapped stories about common acquaintances and shared incidents. For her part, Fleur had been utterly charming; to the point that Buffy, Willow, Faith and Dawn had all approached him separately during the day and given their approval of the young woman. Xander had no idea what had been said, but he was grateful that things had worked out so well.

Xander finally got comfortable, then sighed as he saw the true state of his desk. The one thing he really didn't like about his job was the paperwork. He'd suggested to Giles that they should take a, "no news is good news," approach to it all. Giles' response to his suggestion had given Xander a new appreciation for both the versatility and descriptive power of the English language. So now he was stuck with it; fortunately, on the top, was a report from Andrew. Xander had to smile at that, the king geek had turned into a blazingly competent researcher. Quickly Xander opened the folder and started reading. Fifteen minutes he put it in his out box, one thought foremost in his mind. 'Now that is certainly interesting.' He picked up the phone and made a call.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fleur was having a lazy day. She didn't have to go into the ministry today, so he had slept in and was now cleaning her flat; it was slow going. Not because she and Gabrielle were particularly messy, but because she kept getting distracted by thoughts of the day before. It had been quite an experience, meeting Alexander's friends and co-workers; it had also been troubling in a small way.

Fleur had been pleasantly surprised to find that she liked all of the "high inquisitors", those women that were closest to Alexander. She liked Willow for her bubbly personality, Faith for her irreverence, Dawn for her tact and empathy, and Buffy . . . . . . the depth of caring that Buffy displayed had shocked the young woman. The blond had exhibited such a fierce protective streak that it left Fleur almost breathless at times and that is what troubled her. If she somehow hurt Alexander emotionally, then all that fierceness would be turned on her and she didn't know if she'd survive it.

She paused and shook her head at her own foolishness, why borrow trouble when there was plenty waiting at her door. If something happened, it would happen; that was for the future, better to keep your mind in the present. To take her mind off of that, she instead remembered the look on Alexander's face when she mentioned Dracula. That had led to a memorable scene at dinner.

They had been standing on the porch of a large building, one that housed the dining area, and talking about life in general when a shriek pierced the air. Almost as one, they turned and dashed into the dining area, only to find Willow on the ground and crab walking away from the table. The reason was immediately obvious to those who knew the red head because on her plate was a small green object staring at her. They watched Willow shudder as it opened its mouth and let out a quiet "ribbit". There was silence for a second, then the room exploded in laughter and Willow blushed seven shades of red at her own reaction. She was still sitting on the ground when Alexander helped her up.

"Who put that thing there," she asked indignantly.

"So, you told Fleur the story of me and Dracula, huh Will?"

She darted a gaze to her best friend and saw the truth there, she looked chagrined, but only a little.

"Pay backs a bitch there friend o' mine, and you better watch yourself cause Freddy there is pretty small, you never know where he might end up."

Willow looked both defiant and scared, she tried to match him glare for glare but finally folded, "sorry Xander."

"No problem Will, just make sure that I'm around for the next round of stories, OK."

"Sure," she replied, but then got a little mad, "why pick on me, I wasn't the only storyteller?"

"True, but the day's not over yet, is it?"

Fleur had followed the conversation, and understood what was happening, the rest of the night would not be dull, she realized. And sure enough, during the course of dinner Alexander had shared some wildly embarrassing stories about Buffy's driving and Dawn's cooking that had the young women very apologetic. Then he had turned to Faith.

"Nice try there stud, but you ain't got nothin on me that everyone don't already know."

Fleur watched as Alexander's smile got wider and even more diabolic, if this was a bluff, Fleur thought, it was a masterful one. She looked over and could see that Faith was getting nervous, even sweating a little but the brunette was defiant.

"OK smartass, what you got?"

Alexander leaned forward and said just two words, "Care Bears."

Faith instantly turned a deathly pale, whatever Alexander had said, had struck a nerve.

"What about em," Faith asked, but without her customary bravado.

"I know Faith," he replied. "I know about the tat, I know about the tapes," here he grinned, "I even know about the collection."

There was silence at the table; Faith looked like she'd rather be facing fifty Uber-Vamps at the moment. "How," she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I caught site of the tat when you were in the hospital. As for the other stuff, I went over to your old place to see if there was anything I could use to make the basement a little more livable. That's when."

Faith put her head down, she'd been busted. The thump of her forehead on the table set off a chorus of laughter that Faith soon found herself participating in. Later, she rallied and dropped dime on the time Dawn had tried one of her cigarettes and when Buffy had managed to shoot herself in the ass with a crossbow.

It had felt good, to be a part of a group like that, a group that wasn't afraid to expose their weaknesses and secrets to one another. With a sigh, Fleur came back to the here and now. She went back to washing up the breakfast dishes and was contemplating what to do until she and Gabrielle went out to lunch in non-Wizarding London when she noticed the owl on her windowsill. Her initial irritation was quickly forgotten when she realized that it wasn't a ministry owl. Her curiosity piqued, she opened the window and removed the message. The owl instantly took off, surprising Fleur. Usually they waited for a response. Her curiosity was now really piqued; she unrolled the parchment and read it. She had to read it twice just to be clear about what it said. After she was sure, the only thought in her head was, 'now that is certainly interesting.' She sat down with quill and parchment and started writing. D'Artagnan, her little screech owl, was going to be a busy boy today.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fleur went to the ministry the next day; she had once again been called before the security committee of the Wizengamot to talk about what she had learned over the weekend. The whole process was progressing rather smoothly with Fleur explaining what she had seen of the relationship between the Slayers and Watchers along with bits and pieces concerning demons, magic and prophecies. Then someone asked the wrong question. "Who was there that came from our world," Sarah Goldstein asked.

"I will not tell you that," Fleur replied.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said that I will not tell you that," Fleur repeated.

"Why not," Amelia Bones asked.

"Because you want that information for the wrong reasons. If you wanted to speak to them, and perhaps use them to create a group that would mediate between our worlds, then I would not hesitate. But too many of you sitting here are only interested in revenge. You see them as a threat to be eliminated, and your only purpose for seeing them is to either kill them or obliviate their memories. Many here still fail to admit that this is a situation of our own making, and are attempting to put the blame somewhere other than where it belongs; and that is with us, not them. We threw them out of our world so they went and found somewhere that their skills would be appreciated and used." Fleur surveyed the committee with cold anger, "you all simply want to punish someone else for our mistakes. That is why I will not tell you."

"They broke the Statute of Secrecy," Angus McMillan roared.

"We threw them out," Fleur shouted back, "they were no longer subject to our laws." Fleur's outburst had, for once, silenced the committee. Out of that silence, her voice could be heard, low and menacing. "You would be better served by determining how to make this group an ally, so the threat they pose would be neutralized as opposed to seeking someone to punish for something that isn't their fault." And with that, she turned and stalked out of the chamber.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fleur spoke to Alexander every day, using a public phone near her flat, but their schedules kept them apart until Saturday. They'd met and had a quick lunch at pizza place (pizza was rapidly becoming one of Fleur's favorite things) then gone to Portobello Road. They were talking, but Fleur was having trouble keeping up with their conversation. She was constantly being distracted by the variety and novelty of what was for sale on the carts. She'd just finished looking at something called a 'Lunch Box', turned to Alexander and said, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said maybe we should work on hooking that Harry Potter kid you mentioned up with Dawn." He laughed at Fleur's scandalized look, she did not want to think about what Ginny Weasly would say about that suggestion, "well what can I say, you missed the whole bit about having a post match orgy with the Harpies."

Fleur blushed to the roots of her hair, and then had to tolerate Alexander's laughter at her reaction. But that was alright, she'd just make sure that their next date involved him wearing formal robes. "I apologize Alexander, but I've never seen anything like this."

"Really, I'd hate to think that us regular folks have the market cornered on street vendors."

"You don't, it's just that I've never seen such a variety of things, and some of them I don't recognize. I've tried to work out what they do just from looking at them, but honestly, a few of them just baffle me." She held up an item, "I can understand handcuffs, but why make them out of leather and not metal? And why line the inside with fur, as though you were worried about the prisoner's comfort?"

Alexander blushed, pulled the fetish cuffs from her hand and put them back where she'd picked them up. Then he took her elbow and walked slowly away from the bemused vendor, whispering in her ear the whole time. Soon, Fleur was blushing as well.

They'd found quite a bit to spend Alexander's money on, then headed off to a quite restaurant for dinner. After a leisurely walk through the park they headed back to Fleur's flat.

"You're sure Gabby won't be there this time?"

"She's at our parent's house on the Cote d'Azure; she'll be there at least a month."

"Excellent," Alexander said, doing an eerily exact imitation of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons.

Fleur giggled lightly, then started handing him all of her packages, so her hands would be free to open the door. "That's why you wanted me along, you just need a beast of burden, admit it," Alexander groused. Fleur's giggle turned into a full blown laugh. She opened the door and turned to him to take some of the packages off his hands when a shaft of red light lanced out of her apartment and struck Fleur in the back. Her eyes opened wide in surprise before she dropped to the ground, unconscious. Alexander didn't hesitate; he flung the collected packages into the room. Several of them intercepted various hexes and jinxes that were being flung his way. One spell managed to get through and Alexander found himself slowed a bit and his ribs hurt on his left side but he kept going. As he charged into the apartment, he saw several figures in dark robes, he suspected that there were only the four that Fleur had warned him about but now he had to concentrate on the problem at hand. In a nutshell, that was getting out of this alive. He heard some muttering off to his left and he snapped a kick in that direction, a feral smile coming to his face as he felt someone fold up over his leg. He caught one person flush on the left cheek with a right cross, and nailed another person with the backhand from the punch. He paused, trying to locate his final opponent; then heard someone off to the right. He dropped and did a leg sweep as a spell passed right where his body had been. The person was taken off their feet and Xander was straddling their body before they were even aware of what was going on. A quick punch and it was over. He stood, wondering if this was the best that the Wizarding world had to offer. He was starting back to where Fleur was when a bolt of red energy hit him. Xander went to his knees but he was trying to pull a knife when another bolt hit him; followed by a third. His eye closed, still looking at Fleur.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As Fleur came too, she found that she was half laying on someone. As her brain started functioning again, she realized who it was that she was laying on and what must have happened. She lay there and checked herself for injury. After a minute or two Fleur realized that everything seemed to be functioning normally, she just felt like she'd been hit by one of Alexander's tazer things again. Thinking of Alexander reminded her of where she was. Ignoring the pain, she turned over and started examining him. He seemed alright, there didn't seem to be any physical damage, which suggested that he'd been taken down with magic. Fleur knew that there wasn't much that she could do for him, at least when she didn't have her wand, so she made him as comfortable as possible given the conditions and tried to work out where they were. One other thing she did was check to see if any of the magical items that she'd had on herself were still there. Unfortunately whoever had taken them had been thorough, then she smiled as her hand came in contact with a hairpin, but not thorough enough. It was her last resort; she had turned one of her hair pins into a portkey, just a very weak one. Since most of what made it work were a series of tiny runes that she'd etched onto the pin, the magic signature was almost negligible. She sent up a silent prayer and activated it; she hoped that Gabrielle would find the pin quickly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Alexander was first aware that his head was resting on something soft, but the rest of him wasn't. As he lay there, his nose told him that Fleur and only Fleur was with him. His mind began piecing together what had happened, he didn't like the conclusions he was reaching. He opened his eye and there was Fleur looking down at him, his head was in her lap. Worry was clear in her ice blue eyes but to Alexander she looked more beautiful then ever. "Hey there good lookin."

Fleur's face lit up in a smile as she saw that Alexander was awake. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been tazered," he replied. "Any idea where we are?"

"No, there are no clues in this room and I can't hear or smell anything. Maybe with your senses . . .," she trailed off.

Alexander closed his eye and concentrated, they were underground, but that was the only thing he could be certain about. "We're underground, that's all I know."

Fleur sagged a bit, "I was hoping that whoever did this had forgotten something."

"Sorry, they've been thorough this time." He paused, "there is something that's bothering me."

"What is it?"

"There was an extra person."

"What?"

"In your apartment, you had said that there were four people on the committee that were giving you static, but when they came to take us, there were five."

"So who was number five?"

"I don't know; any ideas?"

Fleur thought for a moment, "best case is that it's just some hireling."

"How likely is that?"

"Not very, if I were going to guess, I would say that there is someone behind the scenes that we don't know about yet. And that's a fairly scary concept."

"It is, but until we know who, it's also a moot concept." Alexander looked around, "you know, this place is better than about half the places I stayed in when I was in Africa." He looked at Fleur, only to see that the young woman looked miserable. "What's the matter," he asked.

She looked away from him for a moment, then turned her anguished eyes to his; "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"This is entirely my fault. You are in this because some of the narrow minded fools I work for thought you and your organization is a threat. If I had just lied to them and said what they wanted to hear, then we would both be fine. But because I had to be honest, even knowing it would cause trouble, I've put you in danger, or even more danger than you're usually in."

"What this," Alexander replied. "This is no big deal. Actually," he added after a moments thought, "it's kind of novel. Usually it's the women I date that want to kill me, not their employers." He looked around again, "I mean, sure, it's not the ideal place for our first night alone together, but like I said, it's not so bad. So look at it from my perspective, I'm here alone with the most beautiful woman I've ever known and she's holding me in her arms. So what if the atmosphere isn't the greatest." He looked up at her; it was funny watching the emotions rush across her face. She couldn't tell if he was being serious or just joking around to lighten things up and so she wasn't really sure how to react. Alexander raised his head just a bit and kissed her confusion away. It was a warm, passionate kiss that promised a lot more; and it also served to clear her mind. "Have we done everything we could to get out of here," he asked her; once the kiss broke apart.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then lets enjoy the time we've got, I mean this will probably be one of the few times that we don't have someone clamoring for our attention."

Fleur laughed, both at his words and at the expression on his face. She took a moment to consider but then decided that he was right. You never really knew how long you had so why not enjoy the time given to you. Her mind clear, she leaned down and renewed the kiss, deepening it and putting all the love she had for the one eyed man into it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Neither knew how long they were there kissing. And for whatever reason, kissing is all they did. Somehow doing anything more didn't seem right. But unfortunately, real life had to intrude and despite their best efforts to forget the fact, they were indeed prisoners. They were lying on the floor of the cell when their captors came for them. It was quick and efficient. The opened the door, two body binds were cast and two bodies were levitated out, no words were spoken beyond those necessary for the spells. Fortunately the body binds included both Alexander's and Fleur's mouth; otherwise those holding them captive might have had their ancestry dragged through the metaphorical mud before the arrived at a large hall. It was clear that they were in someone's residence; there were just too many personal touches for it to be somewhere like a warehouse. Alexander and Fleur were loosened one at a time, sat down in chairs and had their limbs rebound. After they were secure, the four took off the masks they had been wearing. As expected, it was Sarah Goldstein, Eloise Greengrass, Angus McMillan and Walter Abbot.

"Well this really isn't a surprise," Alexander muttered.

"What did you say, Boy?"

"I said that this wasn't a surprise, I mean really, you sad sacks have to be the worst conspirators in the history of conspiracy. As soon as everyone figures out that Fleur is missing, they'll figure that it was the four of you since you were the ones giving her so much trouble."

"From your point of view, that may be true," Walter Abbot replied. "But when they find her dead body," here he gestured at Fleur, "it won't be difficult to tie that to her ongoing relationship with a muggle who works with violently dangerous magical creatures. Your trial will be a sensation, a carefully orchestrated sensation of course; where you'll reveal all of those who are traitors to the Wizarding world. The public will clamor for protection from these outside forces and will allow us to do what is necessary to protect ourselves. It is needless to say, but the loss of prestige on the part of the Minister will require her to step down and then; well, we'll see what happens then."

"Great, one question and the bozo starts monologuing," Alexander said, then thought for a moment. "Well the most obvious flaw that I can see is that you think you can get me to tell you what you want to know. That ain't gonna happen."

The response he got was a muttered "Crucio," then Alexander's world was just pain. Everything he'd been through before paled in comparison to what he'd just been hit with. It felt like his nerves were on fire and that every bone in his body was simultaneously being broken. But then, in that maelstrom of agony; memories of a life other than his surfaced, surfaced and taught him how to ride out the agony that he would hurt but not break. It seemed as though there was still a bit of soldier boy around after all. As the pain stopped, Alexander took a shuddering breath and opened his eye. There was a half crazed gleam to his eye and a feral smile on his lips, "you're gonna have to do better than that."

"I assure you Mr. Harris, we can, I have no doubt that as the head of your organization you would prepare yourself for something like this" Eloise Greengrass answered him. "But I am also quite sure that you've never experienced anything like the Cruciatus curse before. Any further answer was cut off by Alexander laughing.

"You guys think I'm in charge?"

"You are not," Fleur asked.

"Of field operations and training, yeah, but not the whole Council. What a bunch of maroons."

"Never the less, you have knowledge that we require," and then the Cruciatus Curse was used yet again.

Fleur watched it all, tears running down her face at the agony that Alexander was going through. She watched as he taunted them, egging them on with insults and gibes. At first she had no idea why he'd do such a thing, but then it hit her; he was doing it for her. Because once these four dunces figured out that he wouldn't break, they would use her against him; inflicting pain on her to break him. But by keeping their focus on him, he was sparing her that pain. Fleur didn't know if she wanted to kiss him for being so noble, or hexing him into the middle of next month for having to watch what they did to him.

The screaming stopped for a moment, but then his voice picked up again. It was hoarse from screaming but it was clear enough. "What about you Sarah? Everyone else had had a hand in it and we see what that's gotten you. Are you too good to get your hands dirty? After all, I'm just a muggle, Fleur over there is just a hybrid, heck I bet somewhere in your family is someone who was just a Jew to the Nazi's."

That was all it took, Sarah Goldstein officially went nuts. Her eyes widened and a snarl appeared on her face. She flourished her wand and screamed out "Crucio." The spell that hit Alexander left the others way in the dust, he had infuriated her beyond reason and that rage powered her spell. Fortunately it only lasted a second or two before a jet of red energy spattered against her side and Sarah Goldstein collapsed in a heap. Everyone froze, not really processing what they'd just seen. The hesitation cost them as more spells came volleying out of the darkness and put the other three down in a matter of seconds.

Fleur looked and at first saw nothing but then the form of Kingsley Shacklebolt resolved itself out of the shadows. Relief surged through the young woman, but also a little apprehension. Kingsley's face was set in an emotion that Fleur didn't recognize and that look was what was making her very uncomfortable at the moment. "Thank goodness its you Kingsley," Fleur said, "get me out of this thing, Alexander needs help."

"He can't do that," Alexander chimed in.

"What do you mean," Fleur turned and asked him, wondering if that last blast had unhinged him in some way.

"I mean that he's not here to let us go, he can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not in his plan. Look at his face Fleur, remember when I was about to hit you with that tazer?"

Fleur looked again at her boss and realized that Alexander was right. The look on Kingsley's face was one of pain, but also one of resolve. He wouldn't like what he was about to do, but he would do it. "But why," she asked.

Here the large man paused; Fleur could see different answers flickering through his head and being discarded. Finally he answered, "it is necessary for things to progress."

"I don't understand," Fleur shot back, "what things have to progress and what is necessary?"

"He means," Alexander interrupted again, "that change was coming too slowly for Kingsley, so he decided to speed up the timetable. Am I right?"

"So far, I knew that these four would do something stupid. When they did, I would arrest them and other, younger, less tradition minded Wizards would take their place."

"That's why you waited until all of them had performed an unforgivable isn't it. The word of the Chief Auror would be enough to send them away for a long time and certainly enough to strip them of their positions."

"But why then can't you let us go," Fleur demanded.

"Because it isn't enough," Kingsley rumbled. "We would clean these four out, but then there would be eight behind them working in the shadows. So what was needed was a martyr. Someone who would be a rallying point, someone who's death would inspire the depth of feeling necessary to pull those who dwell there out of the shadows. The horrible death of a dedicated Auror who died for a world that mostly sneered at her mixed heritage should do nicely."

Fleur looked over at Alexander and realized something; the man was scared. She could see fear on his face, something that hadn't been there before Kingsley had shown up. "So Fleur is the martyr, then what about me?"

"Ah, Mr. Harris," the big man said. "You are a godsend. When your body is discovered with Ms. Delacour's then your organization will quite willingly work with us to weed out any remaining . . . . . malcontents."

"So Fleur's gonna be the rallying point and the slayers are the secret police, that's how all of this is gonna work?"

"Indeed, but first, I have to kill you both."

Kingsley bent down and picked up Sarah Goldstein's wand. That way if someone tried 'priori incantatum' on Kingsley's wand, it would come up clean. He was just standing up when he became aware of a noise. It was odd, sounding vaguely like a horn but different somehow. Kingsley went over to the source, which seemed to be Alexander's belongings. There was a small rectangular object that was the source, but Kingsley had no idea what it meant. He turned to Alexander, and absently noticed the smile on the young man's face, "what is this?"

"Didn't you ever watch western's when you were a kid," he asked. Kingsley just shook his head so Alexander continued, his smile getting wider, "they always blow the bugle just before the Cavalry arrive."

And with that, the room was suddenly swarming with people.