This is by far the longest chapter I've written for this fic so far. I hope you enjoy it and find at least some questions have been answered. I've tried to remember to tie up most of the loose ends, but I'm sure some things may have escaped me. Don't worry though, there will be more chapters to come. At least three, and if all goes well, a sequel afterwards. Enjoy!

Mycroft slipped his coat on over his suit jacket, and took his umbrella from the corner of his office as he flicked off the lights. 'Melody', as she'd asked to be called in the department memo that morning, was already waiting in the hall, texting away on her Blackberry, confirming the jet was ready to take off upon their arrival. The two walked down the corridor to the lift in silence, neither wanting to admit they were deeply troubled by the unforeseen events in Sunnydale. As the lift lurched then slowly drifted down to the lobby, Mycroft cleared his throat and turned to 'Melody'. "Ahem.. Well. This should be quite the adventure for us, Melody. Quite the adventure, indeed."

"Uh-huh.. wait.. Sir? Us? I hadn't planned on.."

"You're not thinking I would let you behind for this, are you?" Mycroft laughed, "Oh, my dear girl.. This isn't of National importance.. This is more a.. Sherlock problem."

"Oh. Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Melody smiled briefly, then returned to texting as the lift stopped and opened into the lobby. The two strode past throngs of ambassadors and lawyers, leaving the building and walking out to the pavement where they were greeted by another of Mycroft's black sedans, waiting to take them to the jet. The ten minute ride was spent in silence, Melody confirming arrangements by text, and Mycroft reading and re-reading a file on his lap. He flipped through a few pages, coming to a stop at a page marked 'Holmes, Sherlock'. As he stared down at the information about the events surrounding his brother's time in Sunnydale, Mycroft sighed inwardly. My dear brother... Perhaps I should have told you. Mummy will be furious..

After a rather quiet, but dull jet ride to Sunnydale, Mycroft wanted nothing more than to find his brother and put a stop to the mad-woman responsible for his kidnapping. As they walked off the airstrip, Mycroft and Melody exchanged a knowing look, confirming they both just wanted this mess to be over with. Slipping into a dark green car, Mycroft once again spoke to his assistant. "Melody, there's something I'd like to say. I think you should know- in case something should happen to me- I appreciate everything you've done. Thank you." He reached over and patted her hand, trying to keep up his stony appearance. He had always tried to distance himself from the woman, ignoring the truth of the matter. Mycroft needed his assistant as much as his own right hand, and even though he thought it absurd, he was beginning to wonder if maybe the years he'd spent with her working by his side had created feelings for her he couldn't- wouldn't- allow himself to confess to. His expression of appreciation brought a smile to Melody's face as she glanced over at her boss. He was staring straight ahead when he suddenly felt a soothing, gentle warmth wrap around his left hand and squeeze it lightly. Looking down to his side, he found Melody's fingers interlocked with his, her thumb brushing over his palm softly. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, Mycroft had a revelation: She was the closest thing to a real, genuine friend he currently had. Sure, he had friends and co-workers before, but none that were as important to him as Melody. He'd usually kept friends about for information and favours, and co-workers for the same things. This woman, holding his hand, was a mystery to him. Sure, she was useful and a paid employee, but he couldn't help thinking about the times he'd wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, to finally speak the words that were threatening to burst from his lips each time there were completely alone. He sat staring into her eyes for a long moment, before turning his head to face forward again, allowing their hands to stay clasped together for the ride. He sat silently holding Melody's hand in his, thinking about the mess they were getting into and how he would change everything between them if they survived. Lord, help us.. If she gets to him.. It may well be the death of us all..

"Dru.. What've you done?" Spike asked, holding the crazed vampire by the shoulders. He pushed her against the wall, evoking a whimper and a snarl. He'd walked into the room moments earlier to find the 'gift' she was jabbering on about: Sherlock. Spike continued questioning Dru for a while, pinning her to the wall, then pushing her to the floor in frustration when her psycho-babble wouldn't stop. In a moment of desperation to understand her plans, Spike slammed his fist into the wall, making Dru yelp in surprise, then grin at him as she gathered herself up from the floor and flung herself upon him.

"Oh, Spike.. you're home.. you still my lovely boy.. such ferocity.. strength.. mmm..." Dru growled, placing a kiss to his throat. Spike pulled away suddenly, his loyalty to the scoobies and to Sherlock screaming at him to stake her. But as she leaned in to press her lips to his, he saw his opportunity and seized it, embracing her completely and sweeping her up into his arms. He turned his head, only allowing her to kiss his throat and cheek, his love for Dawn making each touch from Dru gut-wrenching. As he spun around, holding her in his arms, Spike glanced over to Sherlock, chained to the bed and shivering. He set Dru back on her feet, then stalked over to Sherlock, quickly looking him over for any wounds, then staring down into his steel grey eyes.

"Spike.. what is this?" Sherlock whispered, as Spike leaned in closer, his back to Dru.

"Shh.. I'll explain later. You trust me?" he whispered back, perching himself over Sherlock as though he was ready to attack.

"I.. yes. Why?"

"Just relax. I'll get you outta here. Promise." Spike turned and walked back to Dru, scooping her up and carrying her out to the hall.

"Noooooo.. We don't want any girl scout cookies.. go away!" Xander wailed from the couch. He burrowed deeper under the blankets, trying to ignore the knocking, which continued to get louder and louder. He peeked his head out of the blankets and peered at the clock on the wall opposite him. "One in the morning? Who the hell.. Oh.. the guy!" Flinging the blankets to the floor, Xander jumped from the couch and tripped, his foot still tangled up in a sheet. As he lay on the floor, trying to regain his composure, the loud thumping of feet came rushing down the stairs, and within seconds John was opening the door and greeting Mycroft.

"Good morning, John."

"Mycroft. Glad you could come. Uh.. Hello.. Sorry, didn't catch your name.."

"Melody. And you are...?"

"John.. Watson.. We've met several times now.. How do you not- nevermind." John asighed as he ushered Mycoft and his assistant into the living room. He reached up and flipped on the lights, then noticed the struggling form of Xander on the floor, half draped in a 'Little Mermaid' comforter, his ankle wrapped in a plain blue bed sheet. "Oh! You all right?"

"Yeah.. Just thought the floor needed a hug, ya know?" Xander replied with a silly grin. He finally broke free of the offending linens, and stood up dusting himself off pointlessly. Pushing his hair back from his eyes, he suddenly became aware that he was in his pyjamas, while Mycroft and Melody stood staring at him silently. "Oh.. Hey. Uh.. you're the dude. Welcome to our humble hellmouth!" Xander bowed and smiled nervously.

"Xander.. You don't have to do that.. He's not the Queen, though some days I do wonder.." John smirked at the mental image of Mycroft sitting in his office wearing a crown and complaining about the price of tea. Shaking the image from his mind, he turned back to his guests. "Tea?"

"Sounds lovely. Melody, stay here with the boy.. I must talk to John alone." With that, Mycroft followed John to the kitchen, leaving Melody and Xander behind in silence.

"John, there's something we need to discuss. Here." Mycroft set the file on the counter, gently pushing it to John as he sipped his tea. "You see, for some time now we've been aware that Sherlock is not.. normal. The data we've collected over the years seems to indicate what I'd suspected is true. Also, this Druscilla.. I believe she's planning to use him to help create an inter-dimensional rift, opening a portal and setting catastrophic events into motion. Events that will change the face of the earth as we know it, returning it to what it once was and releasing the armies of hell to kill anyone that they cannot use. Now, if you have a look here, Druscilla has been travelling about the globe, gathering pieces of a very old, very powerful stone circle that originated at Stonehenge, then was taken away and used by the Picts for communicating with those in other dimensions. It was broken into seven pieces by the Christians after they converted the last of the Picts, and each piece was sent to a different continent. We believe she is now in possession of all seven pieces and a scroll that once interpreted, explains the ritual to use the circle to rip the fabric of our reality completely."

"Mycroft.. Get to the point. Can you help us or not?" John said impatiently, his nerves already shot from the loss of Sherlock, and the fear that he may never see him again.

"Right. I can stay and see to it that your team has all they need to stop Druscilla and prevent the end of the human race. Will that do?"

"I.. uh.. yes, I think it will."

"Good. Oh, and John.. Sherlock will be fine, I assure you."

"Right. Thanks. I'll have Xander set you two up in the living room. He can take the floor in my room." John placed his tea cup in the sink and walked out, and met Xander in the hall. "Xander. Let those two take the living room, okay? There's plenty of room upstairs."

"Oh, sure.. Kick me outta the living room for Crazy and Stuffy Spice.."

"Xander.. Shut up and get your blankets."

"Yes, boss." Xander mocked, then shuffled back to the couch and gathered up his bedclothes.

"And Xander.. There is no Stuffy or Crazy Spice.. and its really pathetic that I know that.."

Sherlock lay silent on the bed, waiting for Spike to come back and help him. It had been a long while, but how long, Sherlock couldn't be sure. Although he could see the moon through a window on the far wall, his lack of knowledge about the universe and its workings prohibited him from telling the time. So he lay there, chained up and cold, wondering if it had been minutes or hours since Spike and Dru left the room. He had deducted that they were somewhere near the edge of town, as he could make out the gently swaying form of the forest in the distance, and had heard no noise from outside that would indicate typical town traffic. Even if he chose to scream for help, it would be of little use, other than to get Dru's attention. Time passed, and Sherlock was brought back from his thoughts by a loud thump down the hall, and the sound of metal creaking. As he lifted his head to see who was coming, Spike's figure appeared in the doorway.

"Comfy, Sherly? Sorry bout that.. had to get Dru outta the way first. Slipped her a sleeping pill.. She'll be out for hours." Spike whispered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a large silver key. He walked up to Sherlock's side and began unlocking the chains that had begun digging into his flesh. As they were gently removed, Sherlock's wrists and ankles stung and ached, the cold air assaulting his exposed nerves. Spike finished with the leg irons, then stood back to allow Sherlock space to stretch and stand up.

"Thanks.. Let's go." Sherlock groaned, planting his bare feet on the stone floor, worsening his discomfort. He leaned against the bed as he mustered up the strength to walk, despite his body's protests. Spike put an arm around the detective's back, supporting him as they crept towards the door.

"Oh.. Naughty, naughty Spike.. Where are you taking your gift?" Dru hissed from outside the exit, peeking into the room. Spike made a sound of disgust, then looked over to Sherlock who was staggering along with his help.

"Stay back. She gets past me, don't hesitate." Spike handed Sherlock the stake he'd concealed in his leather duster. Sherlock had no sooner stepped back towards the bed, when Spike charged at Dru, knocking her to the ground with a hard thud. There was a flurry of fists and elbows, the two vampires trading blows on the ground. Dru slipped backwards and stood up, kicking Spike in the face as she turned to run. Spike grabbed the bottom of her dress, pulling her back and throwing her to the ground. "Really didn't want to hurt you, pet.. But you're givin' me no choice." Spike sneered, then lifted Dru from the floor and threw her against the wall. Dru looked at Spike, her large brown eyes nearly tearful, then smirked. Her wicked laughter echoed through the room, a horrible cackling that sent a chill down Sherlock's spine.

"Spike.. my sweet Spike.. You thought you could fool me.. but the poppies told me.. Said you came with poison, put me to sleep. But I won this time, haven't I?" Dru hissed, then in one movement she spun herself and Spike, pinning him to the wall where she'd just been. The crazed woman yanked Spike forward and threw him back again, slamming his head against the stonework and dropping him to the floor as he fell unconscious. Turning to Sherlock, Dru smiled and tilted her head sideways. "Thought you'd get away.. Back to your teddy bears and cupcakes.." Her eyes widened as she slowly approached him. "So much like my William was.. walking in worlds others can't begin to understand.. brilliant and alone.. here with me.." Dru lunged at Sherlock and he backed away, but the pain in his ankles threw off his balance and he stumbled into the corner. She advanced again, trapping him against the walls with no real escape and no help from Spike, who was nothing more than a heap on the floor. Dru followed Sherlock's gaze, seeing a small hint of despair flash across his face as he looked at Spike. "Look here.. Look at me.. Look at me.." Dru whined, her face only inches from Sherlock. Dru pressed her fingers to his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet hers as she pushed her fingers up into his hair. "Let's have a look.." Dru closed her eyes and took in a deep, unnecessary breath through her nose as she tilted her head back a bit. Sherlock saw his opportunity and gripped the stake tightly as he rammed it into Dru's gut, sending her reeling back, wailing and howling in pain and shock. Cursing himself for not having the space to reach her heart, Sherlock lunged forward ripping the stake from Dru, then knocking her flat to the ground with a sudden sweep of his leg. Limping slightly, he rushed to Spike and lifted him from the floor, shaking him roughly as his eyelids fluttered open.

"Uh.. oww.. Dru.. Sherlock.."

"Yes. Let's go. If we don't leave now, she'll kill us both." Sherlock insisted, dragging Spike along to the door.

"No.." Spike groaned, taking the bloody stake from Sherlock and turning on his heel. As he crossed the room, Dru crawled to the bed and pulled herself to her feet, her hand covering the hole in her dress and the gaping wound beneath it. She turned just as Spike cleared the distance, and her eyes met his just as he drew back to stake her. "Goodbye, love.." He muttered, ramming the stake into her heart. It seemed like an eternity to Sherlock, watching Dru's eyes widen and her mouth open to protest, as she slowly began to dissolve into dust. Spike stared down at the pile of ash, all that was left of his old lover. He shook his head and let the stake fall from his hand, clattering to the ground as he stepped back and turned to Sherlock. "Always knew I'd be the one.. Never wanted to be.. but I knew I'd have to do it someday." He confessed as the two left the room and made their way out of the mansion.

"Its okay, John.. Spike went to get him. He'll be home soon. Promise." Dawn whispered.

John sat on the armchair, as Mycroft explained to the group everything he knew about the situation. Dawn stood beside the ex-watcher, her hand resting on his shoulder to comfort him. It had been a strange night, and things just kept getting worse. Willow had been unable to find Sherlock with a locator spell, and there hadn't been any word from Spike yet. In all honesty, what Mycroft told them was more-or-less 'business as usual', but to John, it was life-altering, earth-shattering information that he felt unwilling to digest. Mycroft finished his speech, then sat back and sipped a cup of tea, eyeing John and Giles' reactions over the brim. They were both somewhat in awe, John more-so than Giles, and both sighed.

"Dear.. oh dear lord.." Giles breathed, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.

"You mean to tell me.. Sherlock.. your brother.. He's not human?" John looked up, his face contorted with confusion as he awaited Mycroft's answer.

"Not completely human, no. Part demon, to be precise. He's still much like the rest of you, but.. special. Hadn't you ever asked yourself why my brother and I are so gifted? How he can take a simple bit of commonly overlooked information and form a theory that inevitably proves to be true? How he seems to know everything you've done all day when you return to the flat? How he can't- won't- tolerate boredom for more than a few moments? He and I are very much alike, but I've used my strengths to claw my way up in the world, while he uses them to solve crimes for no pay and no recognition. Its how I obtained such a high place in the government, and at a comparatively young age, at that. No, John.. Things are not as they seem. You of all people should expect that, being an ex-watcher yourself. Or have you forgotten all you were taught?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow, then sighed again. "My apologies.. You couldn't have known, really. Hardly anyone does, not even Sherlock himself."

"You've never told him? How could you not tell him?" John outraged, standing up suddenly, causing Dawn to squeak and jump back. "Why on earth would you let your brother go on so long thinking it was all observation and skill on his part, not knowing what he really is? And when.. when did you plan to tell him?"

"I assure you, it was all for his well-being. We're perfectly human by all appearances, so there was never a threat of discovery by hunters or the slayer. But to learn something of this nature.. It took years for me to fully come to terms with it after Mummy explained it all."

"So.. all the gifts, no paralysing goo or.. or.. horns and cloven hooves.. That's a good deal." Willow cheered from the couch, then looked at the bewildered and unamused faces around her. "Nevermind.. Shutting up now."

"Right. So, you see, there had been no cause to tell him until now. And he'll be told soon enough, as I expect he and the vampire will be back any time now." Mycroft glanced down at his watch, then towards the door impatiently.

"So.. umm.. How.. I mean.. what made you two like this?" Dawn said shyly from behind John.

"Our grandfather. Which is another rather long and terribly boring story for a rainy day. However, it seems I should at least give you the abridged version, so we're all on the same page here." Mycroft stood and walked over to Dawn, patting her arm. "Have a seat. It will still take a while." Dawn nodded and sat down on the couch between Willow and Melody. "Let's see.. Well, it was decades upon decades ago, and our grandmother on father's side was still very young. She was a watcher herself, you see.. But naïve.. At some point during her time as a watcher, she met a man.."

Yes, I got this plot bunny.. and decided to run with it no matter how outlandish it may be. Sherlock being part demon.. to me, in a really twisted way, it makes sense. I mean, really.. what HUMAN do you know that can solve the most unsolvable crimes like Sherlock? O.o

If I've missed anything that you feel is pertinent info, please by all means, let me know! I want the next chapter to cover everything so that we can get back to the Sherlock/John fluffiness and the Spike/Dawn smoochies. Cause that's what makes the world go around. :)