"Sir, it looks like the demons are converging to the east of us," reported one of the aides in the War room. General Hennessey leaned over the shoulder to look at the video from the helicopter.

"Bad, Bad Buffy, went out for a fight and got kinda huffy," the little girl said in that same sing-song tone. She seemed to be completely oblivious of the guns aimed in her direction. "Went out to slay and lost the day!"

"You are not helping," Giles said in his best Ripper voice. The girl danced around without acknowledging his tone. "Have you found her again?"

"No, sir, the last we saw is her being attacked by those flying demons and then two flew off and the orcs ran away," replied one of the younger officers. "Those orcs have stopped moving and seem to be setting up camp. There are a few mounted on big furry creatures, but otherwise they seem to be settling down and putting up a guard."

"Furry creatures?"

"They look like Banthas, from Star Wars," the kid replied.

"Oh good god," Giles replied. He heard a snicker behind him. With an angry look, he turned back to glare at the little girl. "What do you know? Are you here to help or just torture us with your irritating songs?"

"You should look for her, she might die if you don't find her," the girl said with all seriousness. Xander grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

"What do you mean she might die?" Xander snarled. He was obvious not pleased with the irritating creature.

"Wounds, get too many of them and you die," her face made it clear the girl thought she was talking to an idiot. "If you find her in time, she might live. Simple as that."

"How are we going to find her? I mean, there's a couple hundred orcs between us and them and I really don't know where to find her once we get past them and then how are we going to get them back? And why am I still holding your skull? I'm mean it's not your skull, but you were keeping it and it's really creepy and it doesn't make sense for my to keep holding it even if you say it's your aunt, and by the way carrying around your aunt's skull is really disturbing in many ways" Willow was cut off by the girl's hand covering her mouth.

"Breathe," the girl commanded. Willow took a deep breath. The girl grinned.

"Okay! First things first, go get her. You have plenty of resources to find her. Second, get help. You have the combined resources of Sunnydale at your disposal. Thirdly, the chicken really did cross the road, but it was only a near miss. Fourthly, the Slayer is the only thing keeping this fledgling nation together right now. She is a symbol to both parties: a Chosen One to you guys and a few others watching see her as a beacon of hope. Others see her as the thing nightmares are made of. She scares them like the boogeyman scares little human children. Thirdly-"

"You already said third and then went on to fourth," corrected Xander.

The little girl gave him a look of death. "As I was saying-"

"I think you've said plenty, Squirt," heads turned to see a tall man with pale skin, just a slight tinge of green with mint colored hair. He looked down at his sister. "Mother wants us back. You've caused more problems than you fixed."

"What? Just because I'm telling them a little more?" the little girl had her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "I'm your big sister, you should pay more attention to what I say!"

"I didn't come here for a discussion," he grumbled. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her to a wall. Giving her a little kick, she vanished through. He turned for a moment before pulling a small round object from his coat pocket and set it on a near by table. "That should help you find her quickly."

With that he turned and quickly followed his sister into the wall. The moment they were out of sight, everyone in the room suddenly realized they could breath again. As soon as he had appeared, all the humans had been paralyzed, unable to even breath, much less confront him. Giles bent over to catch his breath. Hennessey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in close.

"What-in-hell-was-that?"

Giles sighed. "I have no idea at this time," he said as the general set him back down. "At a later date, after I have had time to research, I might be able to tell you more."

"Giles, it's a compass," Xander reported, opening it up and flashing it around.

"It also doesn't point north," said Willow. "OH! It's a Buffy compass! We can use this to find her because it points towards her, but it could be a problem because she might be underground and that would suck and then we would have to go hunting in the tunnels for her and that is never a good thing in Sunnydale."

"Yes, quite right," Giles said absently as he nibbled on his glasses. Putting them back on his head, he turned and started walking out. "I shall have to consult my books. Rather, after we have Buffy back."

Drizzt had finally caught his breath and was walking around again. The retrieval team had finally arrived and Team 3 was returning to base. Drizzt was accompanying them, but was walking with a definite limp.

"Drizzt, you might want to get that looked at," Riley said, pointing to his leg. The dark elf shook his head.

"It's fine. I just stressed the leg a little too early," Drizzt argued with a nod. "The last time I had my leg broken it had taken much longer to heal. I am quite impressed by your people's medical knowledge."

"You said you 'had your leg broken.' That's a weird way of saying you broke your leg," Forest said.

"I did not break my leg," Drizzt said, shaking his head slightly. "It was broken for me during my ranger training. My brother did the deed himself. It was the first in many lessons of first aid in hostile situations." His human companions looked at him like he was insane. He simply shrugged. "This was the least of what my people do to each other."

"Your own brother broke your leg?" Graham looked like he was going to explode.

"Yes, it was to force me to learn how to make a proper splint. Actually the fact that he had to do so suggested I was weak," Drizzt said. He didn't notice his companions' shocked looks. "Admittedly, I would never teach someone with that method."

"I should hope not," Forest said with a shudder. "Your people are into some freaky shit, kid."

"Like I said, that is the least of what they did to me or to each other," the dark elf said with a shrug. "It is a little strange that people are always so interested in Menzoberranzan."

"Creepy things intrigue people," Graham said with a shrug. "That's why we go see horror movies or read about serial killers."

"By your standards, my people certainly do qualify," Drizzt replied with a just slightly strained smile on his lips.

"So, do you usually use two swords?"

"Yes, one of mine was destroyed soon after I had arrived on the surface," Drizzt said, motioning to the empty scabbard. "I need to find a replacement, but all the scimitars I have found so far are out of balance with my other blade."

"How many scimitars are you gonna find in Sunnydale?" Riley asked, a little confused.

"Oh, Buffy and Mr. Giles have a fairly extensive collection of weapons. I have been allowed to peruse them at my leisure," Drizzt said simply. "Unfortunately, your scimitars are much heavier than my own. I will need to find something closer to the balance of my remaining blade."

"Why do you keep those around? I'd rather have a nice gun," Forest said. They four glanced over to Riley as his radio beeped.

"Team 3, sir. Yes, understood sir," He clicked off the radio and turned to his team. "There's an army of major demons moving in from the east. It looks like they just slaughtered a bunch of locals. They want the teams to converge and get a better look at the situation." His team nodded silently, before checking their gear. Riley poked Drizzt in the leg, making him wince involuntarily. "You're going back to town. You're no good to us with that and I don't want to have to tell Buffy that you got killed because you wouldn't back off." Drizzt grinned at the mention of Buffy's name. "And yes, it is because she could rip my head off my shoulders."

"Fine, I'll head back. I need to make sure Joyce is safe, because that would cause some serious problems in my life," the dark elf replied. "You three stay alive, you hear that?"

"Get going Drizzt, we'll see you later," Riley said with a laugh. Sobering up, he turned back to his other friends and motioned for them to move out. It was taking more time than usual to move to the other ridge because the severe lack of transportation. They had to walk. He wanted to ask Walsh if they could get horses or something faster in the future. Soon they spotted other teams and they went in. The demons were taking a leisurely pace, it was almost as if they wanted to prolong the battle as long as possible. This was more than a little strange. "Sir, Team 3. The HSTs seem to be taking their time in getting here. I estimate twenty five land walkers of various shapes and about twice that fliers. Most of the fliers are quite small. No, the size of children or large flying dogs. The walkers are much larger. Some are Giant sized. Yes, sir." He turned to his team. "We are to stay put. They are sending out the big guns."

"What big guns? We didn't have any missiles and I don't see any tanks sitting around," Forest grumbled cynically.

"From what I heard, it's something the new tech guys planned up," Graham said. "Some kind of Anarchist's Cookbook sort of stuff."

"Why do I fell like that's going to be the death of me?" Riley said, joining in with the grumble.

"Because you're smart, that's why," Forest said simply. They soon heard a small engine plane approaching from behind them. It really looked like it shouldn't have even been in the air. Forest looked at Riley with a accusatory look. "Big guns?"

Riley shrugged.

The plane was faster than the flying demons and managed to outmaneuver all but one unlucky flier that hit the windshield. Team 3 watched as the door opened up and a person threw out a couple of small objects. The plane had to barrel roll to avoid a vrock and the guy bounced around where he or she was tied to the plane. The objects fell to the ground and exploded. The shock wave spread out, consuming the demons closest to it, but those further out avoided the blast, taking only minimal damage. Some were on fire and did not see to have any adverse affects.

"Sir, some appear to be immune to fire, or at least resistant," reported someone over the line. The plane circled around again and the person in the back dropped a couple more objects. As soon as the objects were away, the plane accelerated and got as far away as it could. They were too small to be easily identified, but the effect was clear. It was a massive explosion that incinerated everything that could burn. The demons were a little worse for wear. It was clear that some were going AWOL. A great number of the fliers flew away from the larger group. A few seemed to vanish far too quickly.

The small plane flew away at that point only to be replaced by the Apaches. The twin roars of the gunships flew over the heads of the soldiers on the ridge. Team 3 had heard the same rumor as everyone else about the availability of Apache ammo: there was not much left. Every hoped there would be enough to end this fight. It was. The demons did not stand a chance against the full firepower of the gunships.

Demon hides were strong, but were nothing when compared to the hide of a dragon. The bullets punctured their skin and flew right through to the other side. If this had been a melee battle, the demons would have had the upper hand. Even the few vrocks that still flew in the sky were trying to escape. The clumsier flying demons might as well have been big red targets. They fell out of the sky and crushed any living underneath them. As the demons died, they went back to the lower planes where they belonged. Any items they carried clattered to the ground. The demons fled the flying constructs that shredded them. The gunships chased them. Eventually, the very few surviving demons managed to escape into a cavern and the Apaches returned to base.

Drizzt arrived at the Summers residence about the time that the Apaches had fallen back. The entire city was in shambles and it would be weeks before everything was back in working order. The Summers house was no different: the front door was smashed in and the windows broken. Drizzt charged up the stairs and into the house. The living room was trashed. Furniture was in splinters. He heard a groan from the kitchen and ran as fast as he could. Joyce was there, trapped under the remains of the counter.

Ignoring his pain, he hefted the granite counter top off of the older woman. Her head was bleeding and she was unconscious. He grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around her head. Tearing another into strips, he tied the makeshift bandage down, careful not to make it too tight. Drizzt didn't know what to do.

In Menzoberranzan, a person would do one of two things: let the person die or find a priestess. Usually, the first choice was favored. Cutthroat politics were the standard operating procedure when it came to the drow city and it was often advantageous to leave someone to die. It was standard to let people die unless there was a direct benefit to saving the person's life. If the person was required alive, others would go to find a priestess who would then need to be pampered and convinced saving said dying person was beneficial to her. That was easier said than done.

Sunnydale didn't have priestesses. At least not the kind who could save someone's life with a touch and a spell. Drizzt knew he could take her to the healers, but at the moment, he was confused enough that he was not quite sure where the healer building was. Hospital, it was called a hospital, he reminded himself. He was panicking.

Carefully, he picked her up and set her on the couch cushions with an extra pillow under her head. He made sure she didn't have any other visible wounds. He struggled to remember everything he learned in field medicine. That was almost twenty years ago. He was once again reminded of how young he really was. Old in human terms, but barely more than a child by elven terms. He should know this, he had just been talking to people about it! He really didn't know what to do.

Buffy was brought into a semi-awake state a while later. She saw the person in red sitting beside her again, but she couldn't make out any features at all. "It's alright, young lady, you're safe here. Heal yourself." A moment or two she faded back into unconsciousness. She dreamt of another world this time. A world where she had stopped Angelus. None of these deaths would have happened. It was a good dream, but ultimately, it was just a dream. Absently, she felt a hand rest lightly on her neck. "Shush, rest and heal." After that the dreams were gone.

Peris awoke to find himself with a bright light shining in his face. He blinked as a person leaned over him, silhouetted by the back light. The person said something, but he couldn't understand the words. Oh, SHIT!! He was in Sunnydale! This was bad. Lord Manshoon was not going to be pleased, not pleased at all.

He glanced over to his other side and noticed the others were in the room. They were in some kind of tent. And there were at least five people standing guard. This was not good. Somehow they had been captured. It looked like they were being treated by healers. That was good. It was better to be captured than dead. Perhaps he could convince them he was on their side, or a diplomat and were attacked by the demons. That last part was true at least.

It was ten minutes before a team went by the Summers House to see if there were casualties. The team found Drizzt changing Joyce Summer's bandages in the living room.

"How long has she been like this?" Drizzt tried to think. He was still not used to the Sunnydale use of time.

"I arrived ten minutes ago," he said after a moment. "I don't know how much longer before then." The team got their medical specialists into place and Drizzt moved away.

"We need to bring her in," four of them counted to three and lifted Joyce onto a board. They carried her to a vehicle and motioned for his to follow. "We're bringing her to the hospital. We need some identification and medical information. If you know where this is we would really appreciate it."

"She's Joyce Summers, I don't know anything else. Her daughter would know more," Drizzt shrugged, unable to help. There was a realization on their faces when they heard the name.

"Shit! It's the Slayer's mother," one of them said with a little fear. There was a split second as the EMTs shared a brief look of fear before rushing to help. One of them glanced back to Drizzt. "She's going to Sunnydale General. We'll make sure she gets the best care." With a nod, he slipped into the front seat and they drove off as fast as possible.

Inside the ambulance, the EMTs shook their heads a moment and let go of their demon forms. They were still mostly humanoid, but it felt better to let it go. Keeping human form was like keeping a fist clenched for hours. One demon EMT looked at the other with shared fear.

"You know she has to live right?" the driver said, dodging a body in the street.

"Hell yes, I know she has to live!" The second said. The third and fourth were in the back doing all they could on the drive. "The Slayer finds out we were there and she'll assume it was our fault. Then it's happy decapitation time."

"She might not kill us, I mean, she might want to research us first," the third said. He received some angry, disbelieving stares. "Okay, she'll just kill us. But that's only if her mom dies!"

Their attention focused back on Mrs. Summers as the ambulance screamed through the streets to the hospital.

"I think you're ready to wake up," Buffy heard from nearby calling her out of her slumber. The pain was gone, but she still felt exhausted. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she glanced around and realized she was alone. She glanced down at her abdominals, not knowing what to expect. Everything was on the right sides, her guts on the inside and nasty bits on the outside. But her shirt was shredded. And blood all over her, and by the colors, it seemed to be about fifty/fifty hers and something else's.

"Great," She said, grumbling. She sniffed the air, confused by the smells of the cave. "Tobacco smoke?" She snapped into a fighting stance and looked for an opponent. "Who's there?"

No one answered.

After a moment, she reluctantly lowered her guard and glanced around the cave. There was a lot of blood staining the ground and the walls where she had collapsed.

Something was wrong. She had no scar, nor was there any pain from the newly regenerated flesh. She knew her Slayer healing had been jacked up, but not that much. Someone had been here, and quite recently. The rock next to her was warm, as if someone had been sitting there as she slept. And that smell didn't go away: Tobacco smoke and herbs.