Author's Note: Okay, lots of reviews from people who are very distressed that I'm now posting the story that kills Ianto. From reading the Ten Seos, of course, you all know that I am sticking to canon; Ianto does die during the 456 invasion. But... to be honest... Ianto isn't really in this story.

Sorry about that.

While it is true that the events that take place on Earth are the same as canon, my plot has a kind of different focus. Ianto's death is in here, yes... but not in a very big way. Although it's a huge plot point to the Torchwood story, it's a rather minor plot-point in mine.

So, basically, sorry. There's nothing I can do for Ianto.

But... just a hint to all my readers out there... I'd start focusing your worry on some of the characters in this plot.

Because... some of them are in a very large amount of trouble. And others, thanks to the Tenth Seo interfering and giving them information they shouldn't have... are about to - as Tenth Seo puts it - "walk right into a trap."

So.

Thanks for all the reviews! Hope this little author's note serves as a response to them all at once.

Enjoy!

(To respond to "guest": Alison does still work for Torchwood, but she's been sticking close to Buffy, recently, because she's worried about Buffy. It's probably safe to say that Alison has worked this out with Jack, who's quietly given Alison permission to do as much alien-fighting with Buffy as possible, even if that keeps her away from Cardiff. After all, he's worried about Buffy, too.)

At 9:30 am, Buffy and Giles were at Home Office. Waiting, politely, to try to talk to someone in charge.

At 10:10 am, Buffy and Giles were still waiting.

At 10:15 am, Buffy stepped outside to take a phone call. From Jack.

"Martha's on holiday," said Jack, "and I can't get through to anyone useful at Home Office. Think you can head on over there and work a little of that Buffy-charm?"

She could almost hear the wink in his voice, as he said it.

"You mean the charm that makes me decapitate stuff?" Buffy asked. "Because Giles and I have been waiting for 45 minutes, now, and… yeah. I'm pretty much there."

At 10:20 am, Buffy was on the verge of tearing the damn door off its hinges, racing into that Mr. Furby-whatever-his-name-was' office, and slamming him against the wall until he told her something.

"I think using your powers might not be the best… diplomatic tactic, at the moment," Giles warned her. "Home Office requires… patience. There's always a lot of paperwork to be completed. Forms to be filled out. People to be consulted with. It's a delicate operation."

"I remember another group like that," said Buffy. "One Caleb and a bunch of dynamite later, and they became an un-group."

By 10:24, Giles had managed to calm Buffy down. Convinced her to go outside, get some air. Take a break.

Which was why Buffy was outside at 10:26 am.

Which was the precise moment Buffy had another attack.

It struck her, just like the last. Just as bad. Shuddering through her, blurring her vision and making the world spin. Things lost their shape, and she just couldn't cling on. It would go away, she knew it would go away, but it didn't! It lingered there, in the midst of pain and confusion, and she didn't know who she was or where she was, or what was going on. Couldn't remember if this was Sunnydale, or if this was Cleveland, or maybe she was in Cameroon with Martha, or…

"Benjy!" Buffy called out. But, no. Benjy was dead. Wasn't he? "Angel!" she tried, but that wasn't right, either. She couldn't remember. Started calling for them all — Spike, Riley, the Doctor, Scott Hope and Satsu and Owen Thurman and—

Then the world went clear, again.

It was 10:30 am. And Buffy found herself in an ambulance. Rushing towards the hospital. But the driver had slammed on his breaks. Was now blaring his siren, trying to direct traffic so he could get through.

"What…?" said one of the medics.

"Some kids on a school trip, playing a joke or something," said the driver. "Teachers these days — no discipline!"

Buffy sat bolt-upright. Found Giles right beside her, trying to urge her to lie down.

But she wouldn't. Couldn't.

"The kids, again," Buffy said. She jumped out of the stretcher, dodging when medical professionals reached out to help her, weaving past limbs and helping hands to grab at the back-doors and force them open.

Leaping outside and racing towards the kids.

Then, as Buffy ran towards them, all the kids across the world, in unison, screamed.

A scream so high it drowned out the ambulance's siren. Made even Buffy have to cover her ears, to drown it out. The noise pierced through anything, everything. Like it was… deliberate! Like…!

Buffy rushed back to the ambulance, forced open one of the side-doors to the front cab. "Radio," she said. "I need a radio."

They all just looked at her like she was crazy.

"Miss, you should lie down," one of them said. "You collapsed a few minutes ago. You could be extremely ill."

Yeah, this was yet another sucky part of being sick.

"I know I'm ill!" Buffy shouted. "I've been ill for a while! But I still need a radio! That noise the kids are making! It's… it's… something! I don't know! I just… I need a radio!"

Not sure what else to do, presented with a hysterical Slayer-powered Buffy, one of the medics handed her a walky-talky.

The other, Buffy guessed, was probably calling the psych ward.

Buffy fiddled with the controls, as she raced off towards the class that had been frozen while crossing the street. Towards the children that were screaming. She had to…

Buffy slowed.

Looked down at the walky-talky in her hands. Confused.

"Buffy," came Giles' voice, suddenly beside her. He put an arm on her shoulder. "Buffy, what…?"

"That's weird," said Buffy. "I had this… idea. I was so sure. And now it's… I mean…"

Then the children stopped screaming.

And Buffy realized, whatever she'd wanted the walky-talky for, it was too late now. If only she could retrieve that train of thought! Remember…

But it was gone.

"I hate these headaches!" Buffy said, smashing the walky-talky down against the pavement. It shattered beneath the impact, bits of it flying everywhere. "I can't think! Any idea I get, and one headache later, it's gone. My whole train of thought out the window!"

To make her point, she stomped on the pieces of the walky-talky.

Giles stopped her. "You're not well," he said. "You can't—"

"We," the children chanted.

Giles and Buffy looked up. Startled.

"We," the children said, again. "We. We. We."

"They're all doing it," one of the medics said, pointing at the school across the street. "Everyone. All the children are speaking in unison."

"We are," the children said. "We are. We are. We are."

"A message," Giles muttered. "Or a threat?"

"We are coming," the children said. "We are coming. We are coming. We are—"

Buffy looked around herself. Her head spun, but not from the illness. Not this time. It was like a bad Sunnydale nightmare, all over again. And she couldn't stop it. Was too sick to…

To…

No. No, focus! The world's in danger. That means no more sick-Buffy. Time for Slayer-Buffy.

"What's coming?" Buffy demanded, rushing up to the kids. "Who's coming? Who are you?"

"We are coming," the children continued. "We are coming."

"Oh, yeah?" said Buffy. She looked up at the sky, giving it her best intimidating glare. Spread her arms. "Well, you gotta get through me first! I'm the Slayer, and I'm gonna be your worst customs nightmare. So prepared to be TSA-ified into next year! Got that?!"

Then the kids stopped talking.

And resumed what they'd been doing before. Unfreezing all at once.

Giles pulled Buffy away, glancing back at the medics. "Yes, very intimidating, I'm sure," he said, "but if you don't want to be in a psychiatric ward for the next little while, I think it would be best if we ran."

The medics, sure enough, were all pretty convinced that Buffy had completely lost it.

They had out the straight-jacket, now.

Buffy spun on her heels. "Definitely run-time!" she agreed.

And sprinted.

"Footage from everywhere across the world, yeah," Jack told Buffy, by phone. "Even London." Then, with a suppressed smirk, "We saw you. Bet you were having fun. I'm sure the aliens are thinking twice about the invasion, now that you yelled at them."

Buffy sighed. "So I'm guessing that means Alison isn't there, yet?"

"No Alison so far," said Jack. Then, in a more serious tone, "Is everything okay with you?"

Buffy really wished people would stop asking her that.

This was why she hadn't wanted anyone to know she was sick in the first place!

"Fine," said Buffy. "Total fine. Okay? I'm just trying to figure out what's going on with the kids, what kind of monster we're facing, and what kind of sword I'm going to need to hack its brains out. Sound good?"

A pause from Jack.

Sounded like a discussion, off-phone.

"Got to go," he said. "We'll keep you up-to-date on this end." Another pause. "Oh and see if that… Giles of yours… can contact someone useful in Home Office. Because we could really use them right now."

Then he hung up.

Giles, from not far away, ended his own phone call. Looked up, a little startled. Then plastered a grin across his face.

"Did you get through to any Ministry or Home Office goons?" Buffy checked.

"Ministry…?" Giles asked, a little confused. Then blinked. And quickly tried to cover it up. "Oh! Yes! Of course, I was just… trying to call them! I was…!"

Buffy put her hands on her hips. Gave him her best Mom-style you-better-tell-me-the-truth look.

And Giles caved.

"I called Alison," he admitted. "She's on her way back."

Buffy was floored. "What?!" she shouted. "Why's she doing that? Torchwood needs her! This whole thing is blowing up in our faces, and Torchwood's only got three—"

"You need her more," Giles insisted.

They stood there, for a moment. Both glaring at one another. Neither wanting to back down.

Buffy was the one who gave in first.

"Okay," she said, waving her hands. "Okay! I give in." Then pointed at Giles. "But you are on your way to Home Office, mister. Find this Furby guy and make him tell you stuff!"

"Frobisher," Giles corrected. "Not Furby."

"Whatever," said Buffy. "Look, just… drop Jack's name. I'm sure they'll have heard of him. Then call me and tell me what's actually going on. Okay?"

Giles nodded.

And headed off.

Giles, of course, hadn't been immediately ushered into Mr. Frobisher's company. Rather, he'd been dismissed and brushed off, which he supposed was only natural, considering the mayhem at the moment.

But Buffy was relying on him.

And he wouldn't let her down.

It took him nearly an hour to eventually get to someone who might listen to him and help him, although she was being stubborn and uncooperative. And seemed very adamant that no one could speak to Frobisher.

"Listen to me, Madam," Giles snapped. "It's terribly important. I've been sent at the request of Jack Harkness, of Torchwood!"

That got her attention.

"You're an associate of his?" said the woman. "A confidante?"

To be honest, Giles was nothing of the sort. But he supposed a little lie couldn't hurt to get the wheels turning.

"Naturally," Giles told them.

The woman excused herself. Went into Frobisher's office. The two spoke, in earnest. Then the woman emerged, and opened the door.

"Mr... Giles, wasn't it?" the woman said. "I believe Mr. Frobisher does have a spare moment for you after all."

At 12:45 pm, Rupert Giles finally managed to meet John Frobisher.

By 1:00 pm, Rupert Giles had disappeared.