Chapter 7

SAN BERNADINO

"You're certain this is the location, Rupert."

"I'm still tied to the council," Giles reminded Wesley.

"No, I'm just having a bit of difficulty believing Travers would spring for a hideout this…ostentatious," Wesley told him.

Wesley had assumed the British gift for understatement. Giles knew very well that the Watchers held retreats and he knew that not long after Buffy had come to the Hellmouth one had been set up in this particular area. He had not, however, expected the retreat to stick out like the proverbial sore thumb in this residential area.

To be fair, based on the way the Watchers did things a mansion was keeping in with their oeuvre. To be fairer, this was only a mansion in the way that a millionaire might consider it one.

"They must have built it fairly recently," Giles said.

"I'm pretty sure I smell paint drying," Wesley said wryly. "Then again, I've seen some of what passes for architecture in LA. Travers might actually have known what he was doing when he ordered this form of construction."

"I think you're giving him too much credit," Giles said just as humorously. "I have little doubt the architect he hired did not understand the difference between our definition of a mansion and the Americans."

"In that case, he may have accidentally done the right thing," Wesley said. "No one would have the slightest idea who owns this or what it might represent." He thought for a second. "I don't see anything resembling security cameras, which means they've probably put up wards of some kind."

"That would be standard protocol," Giles agreed. "Well, there are approaches we can take."

"Let's try something simple before we try using magic," Wesley took out his cell phone.

"Hey, English," Gunn said. "You find Watcher Central?"

"Rupert and I are pretty certain of it," Wesley agreed. "How's the search for the military going?"

"Willow and Fred are working on decryption. They're about thirty minutes away from an answer."

"I hate to distract them, but we may need some assistance." Wesley thought for a second. "I'm going to give you an address. Tell Willow I would appreciate if she could spare five minutes and come up with the blueprints."

"She'll probably only need two. I'll have her call you in a minute." Gunn hung up.

"Fred? You don't think she's up to this sort of challenge?" Giles asked.

"Winnifred is a quick study but the Internet was barely in existence before she ended up in Pylea," Wesley said. "It'll be weeks, if not months before she's anywhere near Willow's level. And right now, time is of the essence.

Giles nodded. "Cordelia told me the two of you never worked out."

"That's remarkably euphemistic for her," Wesley said calmly. "We kissed once and it was as bad for me as it was for her. Fortunately we were smart enough to let it go at that."

Giles considered this. "The vision she received when she kissed Doyle?" He paused. "How is she handling them?"

Wesley was about to deflect. Then he remembered who he was talking to. "You've read the same texts I have," he told Giles. "The kind of psychic power she's dealing with are the kinds of things that no normal human can deal with without severe consequences."

Giles nodded. "Drusilla had some of that power," he said as neutrally as he could. "I dare say that if Angel hadn't turned her, the sight would have either killed her or driven her mad."

"I doubt he'd considered that particular action a good deed," Wesley reminded him. "But I see the larger point. I've seen the aftereffects on Cordelia over the past year."

"Have you tried telling her this?" Giles asked.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "You knew her before I did. You know how she is. When we were in Pylea, she had a chance to get rid of her visions. She refused even though she has to be more aware of the consequences than we are."

"She has always been stubborn," Giles agreed. "It's part and parcel of being part of our circle. And it's likely to get her killed unless there's some form of intervention."

Wesley nodded. "That's assuming it's not already too late."

The rest of Angel Investigations had been concerned about this for a while but Wesley was quietly the most concerned. Cordelia had to be suffering from brain damage based on these visions, and this was not the kind of thing any hospital could reverse or treat. When Lilah had sent that particular brain wave to Cordelia two months earlier, he had been initially terrified because he had been anticipating that something that serious might be coming. Cordelia had recovered from it, but it had nothing to assuage his fears. Every new vision that came had the potential to be the last one she ever had.

"Have you told them this?" Giles asked.

"I've hinted at it every so often," Wesley told Giles. "And I've been researching options in my spare time."

Giles didn't respond. Wesley sighed. "Even before I took over the role of leadership, I'd learned the hard way when you try to tell a strong personality something that triggers an emotional response, they become virulently resistant to listening to you."

"Cordelia's not a Slayer," Giles reminded him.

"No, but she's as committed to the fight as Buffy and Faith are," Wesley pointed out. "Besides you remember how stubborn she was then? She's ten times more so now."

Giles looked at Wesley with admiration. "You've come a long way since we first met."

Wesley smiled. "I'm only now beginning to appreciate what you must have been going through back then. What you still are now." He shook his head. "I wanted to reach out to you last year. Things were getting particularly dark and problematic. But I knew how you and Angel had parted ways and I didn't think you'd be sympathetic to the problem."

Giles took that in. "You were probably right. It's still hard to look at him and not see the man who snapped Jenny's neck and left her on my bed. I know intellectually it wasn't him…"

"Stiff upper lip we're instructed in the womb to keep, we are merely flesh and blood," Wesley agreed.

"Besides, things were difficult enough on the Hellmouth last year that helping you with problems here would have been a lesser priority," Giles took off his glasses. "I keep forgetting they're related."

"Indeed." He was going to say more when his cell rang again. "Yes."

"Sorry it took so long," Willow said apologetically.

Giles looked at his watch. It had been three minutes – an eternity by her standards.

"Quite all right. Given the people behind this I imagine Travers didn't file his permits with the proper authorities," Wesley said understandingly.

"And the LA archives are more complicated than Sunnydale's," Willow said. "Any case, I do have the blueprints you were looking for. Now if you could just tell me what in particular your looking for."

"Knowing the way the Council operates I imagine there's more space for the foundation then there should be," Wesley pointed out.

"Leave it to the villains to have an underground lair," Gunn said. "You're right, they cleared out space for a basement that's at least twice the size of the flooring above."

Giles got what Wesley was reasoning at. "You're looking for a cellar entrance."

"Sub-cellar, I imagine," Wesley agreed.

"I think I know what you're looking for," Willow said. "Around the back there as an area that's classified as a woodshed. But according to the permit, there's no fireplace."

Wesley smiled. "Thank you."

"You need help with the wards, Tara and I can be out there in about half an hour," Willow offered.

"We'll let you know, but I have a feeling we'll be fine," Wesley said. "Get back to us when you're finished with the decryption."

"Not that I don't appreciate the vote of confidence," Giles said as Wesley hung up. "But what makes you think we won't need help with the wards?"

"Because you and I both know the Council," Wesley reminded him.

Giles considered this. "You don't think there are any there."

"The one thing I remember about all the elders," Wesley said. "How smart they seemed to be and how arrogant they were about their intelligence."

Giles couldn't disagree. "Still, you won't mind if I cast some spells to see if you're right."

Wesley nodded. "I quit two years ago. The arrogance has worn off."

WILSHIRE BLVD

As Buffy ran up, Cordelia looked at her watch. "You must be getting old. It took you twelve minutes to get here."

"It's these pedestrian crosswalks." Buffy said. "No one looks twice at a twenty-year old girl running down the street, but God forbid you get caught jaywalking."

Cordelia turned serious. "Is Wolfram still standing?"

"No, but they're going to need to spend a lot of money on redecorating and security this week," Buffy said.

"I imagine that they have a high budget for getting blood out of the carpets," Cordelia said distractedly.

"You think their janitorial staff has to sign NDAs?" Anya asked. "Mr. Clean doesn't exactly work that well on Fyarl demon blood."

"Not our problem. This is." Buffy said. "I notice you're across the street from the address you gave me?"

Anya nodded. "After we saw Dawnie's picture on the wall, we didn't think it would be particularly clandestine to stand there and wait for you to tear the building apart. Not that I wouldn't mind if you did it. Or you know, ripped this guy limb from limb."

"You're sounding a lot like your still on the vengeance kick," Buffy said.

"Believe me, she's being the tactful one in this discussion," Cordelia said bluntly. "I've been through some horror shows in auditions during my thwarted attempts to conquer Hollywood, but there are some producers you know better to go near. This guy seems to work for all of them."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "And you saw Dawn's picture."

"Big as life." Cordelia hesitated. "And of all of this man's success stories, none of them are much older than her."

The implication could have not been clearer. Even if none of these women had any involvement with the supernatural, they would have all considered this man a monster. There were implications here far more troubling that they found on the Hellmouth.

"Don't let Xander know this," Anya said calmly. "Even if this guy is absolutely innocent of anything having to do with Dawn, I'm sending a couple of my colleagues after him when this is over."

Anya was so blunt it took a moment for what she was saying to register. Neither Buffy or Cordelia offered a word of protest. Cordelia was half-tempted to tell her not to bother; she'd sic Angel on them when they were done.

"Can you restrain yourself?" she asked her friend instead.

Buffy was starting to shake. "I'm honestly not sure. I've been spending so much time trying to think all of the usual supernatural things that might happen to her that something…."

Buffy couldn't finish the sentence. Cordelia could hardly blame her. The moment that she saw the pictures of these innocent children posted on the outside wall, she'd thought of serial killers who were subtler with their trophies.

"I'll go in," she said instead.

"Not alone," Anya said. "I've got a better idea."

Cordelia considered this. "How worried should I be?" she asked Buffy.

"Not that worried." Buffy assured her. "Bluntness aside, Anya can come up with some pretty useful ideas when our backs are up against the wall."

"That almost sounded like a compliment," Anya said suspiciously.

"Then it came across wrong because it actually was one," Buffy said more sincerely.

Anya was quiet. "Forgive me, I'm not used to praise that isn't sarcastic."

"It's new for all of us," Cordelia agreed. "So what's your idea?"

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do," Anya said. "And when in California, pretend you're a star and demand to be seen."

All three women knew what Anya was talking about. "I appreciate the confidence boost, but I'm not sure I'm that good an actress."

"That doesn't matter," Anya said with a small smile appearing. "You're going to have an entourage, saying you are."

HYPERION

"Ok, we're in," Willow said. "Where do we start to look?"

"You know what they say about the shortest distance between two points," Fred said carefully. "Start and see what our government has on Dawn Summers."

Everyone knew it was going to be that simple and nobody seemed surprised when it came up with nothing.

"Well, what code words do you suggest we start looking under next?" Gunn asked.

"None." The failure had done nothing to diminish Fred's confidence. Gunn picked up on this more than the residents of Sunnydale did, because he knew better than them that uncertainty was Fred's native tongue. "The Initiative had files on all of you right?" she asked.

"Anyone who was connected with the little incident last spring, yeah." Xander, the only one among the group who wasn't a certifiable genius seemed to have an idea of what Fred was hinting at.

"Can you hack into Buffy Summers Initiative file?" Fred asked.

"With my eyes closed." Willow did just that. "What are we looking for?"

"You'll know it when you don't see it," Fred clearly already had.

Willow looked over the file carefully. Then she blinked. "Next of kin: mother Joyce. Only child."

She turned to Fred with great appreciation. "How did you know?"

"Call it an educated guess." Fred said. "You told me that when the monks created Dawn last year, they made her a part of Buffy's memories. In order to do that, they would have to make sure she existed in every part of your life. That meant that she always existed in the minds of you and your friends and everyone in Sunnydale. I have little doubt there is a birth certificate and social security card registered for her so she'd have no clue that she wasn't different. But these monks might have dabbled in the supernatural, but they were still human and based on what you told me, they had to do a rush job in order to complete the illusion."

"And that meant there were going to be lapses." Xander had gotten it. "Including things that Dawn would have had no business interacting with."

"Hence the computer file saying that Buffy has no siblings." Fred pointed out.

"But if there's no government record of Dawn, how did they get keyed on to her?" Gunn asked.

"They were still monitoring us, remember," Willow said. "And one of the things they did was stay close to the local papers."

Now Gunn got it. "Mrs. Summers' obituary," he realized. "They must have read and seen the line that said: 'survived by'."

"And even the upper echelons MF's must have been able to put two and two together," Xander guessed. "Knowing how the best and the brightest operate, they probably did plan to make this grab after Buffy died."

Just then, there was a loud blaring. They all snapped to attention. "That's one of ours," Gunn said.

Willow began typing and accessed the cameras. "Intrusion on the fourth floor." Then one of her charms started glowing. "That's one of ours."

"I hate to say it, but 'they're here'" Xander said quietly. "And my guess is they've brought a small platoon."

"Demon or human?" Gunn asked.

"Could be one or the other," Willow said. "Or knowing them, all of the above."

"All right, just as we planned." Xander said. "Everyone go to the floor where you did your work."

In order to prepare for this kind of attack there had been an agreement that each of them would take a floor and work with their specialties. Gunn and Xander would deal with hand-to-hand combat. Willow and Tara would deal with magic. Fred, who had skills with setting traps, had spent some time in several of the rooms building surprises for the unexpected guests. She also had one more job to do before she went into position.

"Angel, it's Fred" she said with no interjection. "I know y'all are busy trying to find Dawn, but you're going to have to redirect."

BABABA

Angel hit the brakes and began to whirl around quickly.

"I'm beginning to regret not letting Summers drive," Spike said.

"That's why we chose to divide and conquer in the first place," Angel did not shift his focus. "In case of situations exactly like this."

Faith got it. "The hills are alive with the sound of demons."

Spike realized what had happened. "Was wondering when the other shoe would drop. How many times have the forces of darkness chosen to invade your new home?"

"Unless they made an attempt when I wasn't in charge, this is a first," Angel told them.

"That's you personally," Faith said gently. "Need I remind you my little home invasion last year?"

"I'm talking about the hotel," Angel said dismissively. "Which is odd in itself. Given how big it is, how few of us there are, and how easy it is to just walk in the front door, I genuinely would have expected a few raids by some of the demons we've gone out of our way to upset the last year."

"Not to mention the evil law firm who has no problem yanking your shorthairs every chance they get," Spike agreed. "Think this could be retaliation for us invading their personal space this morning?"

"Not ruling it out," Angel agreed. "Not saying you're right, but nothing's off the table."

"How far out are we from here?" Spike asked.

"Fifteen minutes." Angel hesitated. "Unless I ignore all traffic rules."

"I think this occasion warrants it," Spike said.

"He doesn't want to get pulled over with an escaped convict in his car," Faith reminded him. "That would slow us down more."

"Fair point," Spike acknowledged. "Well Red and Tara will be able to handle most of them. Harris may be a wanker but the lad can truly hold his own against some of the lesser demons, which I'm betting is all they'll send." He paused. "You say Gunn's been fighting the demons since he was a lad?" Angel nodded. "Well, the wild card is Burkle."

"She's smart and she survived a demon dimension for five years," Angel began to defend her.

Spike waved that part off. "What worries me is how much shell shock she might still have after coming back to civilization. You think she's completely over it?"

It was a valid point. Fred had dealt with some difficult situations since coming back from Pylea and had needed to recover from each of them. Cleverness would help her to extent, but there could be a lot of brute force. Throw in the fact that she had yet to see Fred in hand-to-hand combat and Spike had a legitimate argument.

"She's been dealing with it fine so far," he said. "But that's fine in theory and harder to judge in practice."

"Well, the Scoobies will do everything they can to help one of their own, and I'm sure that's the same for your lot," Spike paused. "I think everyone in this car knows this can both be a positive and a negative."

"That's the thing about the Scoobies," Faith said sadly. "When you care this much about the people you're fighting with, you don't always do the logical thing."

Angel couldn't argue with this; everybody in the car had been on both sides of this and had been capable of using it as a weakness if it had suited them. Whoever was going to be sending fighters against them had to know this to.

Faith said what they were thinking. "Put the pedal to the metal."

"And if they get you?"

"I'll throw myself on the grenade," Faith shook her head. "I guess hanging around you has worn off on me."

"Just don't overdo it on the product," Spike said as Angel hit the gas.

MARTIN TALENT AGENCY

"Half a million? For a guest role on a show on UPN? Are that many people watching that network?"

"What can I tell you, Carrie darling? All the money's in these tween romance shows these days. Everybody's that's anybody what's to have five minutes on Dawson's Creek."

Cordelia gagged. "Is that what's passing for great television these days? Pubescent white children pretending that they have the answers to the universe. When I was fifteen, I didn't know who Woody Allen was."

"You play the game; you're starring in his next movie."

Buffy had known that Anya had been around for hundreds of years and had to have mastered hundreds of languages, human and demon alike just to blend in. But it was actually frightening to see just how well she played the role of someone even more ruthless than a vengeance demon: an agent.

Anya's idea had in fact smacked of the genius she was capable of. Cordelia was going to walk into this talent agency, pretend to be an up and coming star and demand to be seen. Since Cordelia Chase had carried herself with a superiority complex ever since Buffy had met her, an argument could be made this was actually the role she was born to play. She hadn't even been bothered that Cordelia apparently had the wardrobe not only for her but everyone else in the back seat of their car; she'd known Cordy long enough to know that she never went anywhere without a week's worth of wardrobe, and she didn't think the upcoming apocalypse would have changed that.

But Cordelia also knew that in Hollywood acting successful and important was not enough; you had to look successful and important. Anya had decided the best way to do this was for she and Buffy to be the supporting players in Cordelia's entourage: Anya was going to be her agent; Buffy was going to be her assistant. Honestly the toughest part of Buffy's performance was going to be looking like she was struggling under the weight of the shopping bags that Cordelia had also been carrying.

Cordelia had lost none of her ability to make a scene, the woman at the front desk had looked up the moment she'd seen her. "Excuse me, Miss…"

Cordelia fixed Anya with the stare that had shattered so many unfortunate students at Sunnydale High. "This is what I'm giving you ten percent for?"

Anya gave a huge sigh and looked at the woman. "Could you tell Mr. Martin his 8:30 is here?"

"Um, Mr. Martin doesn't have any appointments scheduled until 9:00."

"I swear to God, Collier, if I had to miss my juice cleanse because you screwed up again…"

Anya put her head in her hands and gave a sigh that only Buffy would have known was completely unlike her. "Look, Miss.."

"Sally."

"Sally." Anya said. "How long have you been working here?"

"The temp agency sent me here last week."

Anya nodded, as if she had been expecting this. "I get it. You're not used to how things work around here."

"Tell her to let me in or I'll have her ass fired!"

Anya looked at Sally as if to say: 'You see what I have to put up with?' "I get you're just doing your job, so let's just talk working girl to working girl." It was the rare of case the slip of tongue making sense in this case. "How long have you been in town?"

"Three years." Sally said.

"Actress or writer?"

Sally paused. "Writer."

"How many screenplays have you finished?"

"Three."

"Can't find an agent?"

"None I can afford."

"So when a vacancy became available here, you were hoping in addition for the paycheck, you could show Martin one of your screenplays."

"Eventually, yeah."

"Well, the only way he's ever going to look at you as a human being, much less as a writer, is if you don't screw it up." Anya said with her usual blunt tone. "And in this case, you're not endearing yourself to him or to one of his clients."

"Miss Hunter was sent over from one of Martin's colleagues from Columbia." Anya lowered her voice. "You can see what a peach she is to work with. This is one of those things that we in the biz call 'backscratching.' There's no appointment on the books because this isn't an official appointment. It's a favor from one bigwig to another when it comes to deal with certain 'difficult' clients."

Sally's eyes opened wide.

"I've handled these kinds of meetings before, and there's a process involved. You let us in and don't let anyone else in for, say," Anya looked at her watch, "half an hour."

Buffy was not sure what chilled her blood more: how Anya was calmly and succinctly explaining that she was about to prostitute her client or that the receptionist not only wasn't arguing but seemed to think that this was normal behavior.

In either case, it worked because Sally just nodded. "Third door on the left."

Anya nodded. "You might want to take your coffee break, right now." She lowered her voice. "He likes privacy."

Sally nodded as the three of them walked past.

"Anya, seriously, you missed your calling," Cordelia said in a low but still impressed voice as the three of them walked past her.

"It would have opened a more interesting breed of clients," she said.

"You want to consider that as an option going forward?"

Anya shook her head virulently. "What kind of woman do you think I am? I was a vengeance demon for 1100 years; that doesn't make me a monster."

Cordelia very clearly got the difference. "I think you can put the bags down, Buffy," she said. "And we do appreciate you're playing the silent partner in this little skit."

"I was actually giving a better performance than you were ever capable of," Buffy said.

Cordelia did not take offense. She knew it had to have taken every ounce of restraint the Slayer had not to leap over the desk and run down the hall the last five minutes. "Is she outside?"

Buffy nodded. "Do your thing."

She ran down the hall and slammed through the door where the esteemed Kato Martin was currently on the phone. She didn't even slow down before she leapt over the desk and tackled him to the floor.

Anya picked up the phone. "Um, Mr. Martin is otherwise engaged," she said on the other end. "He'll call you back if his availability changes."

She hung up and looked at Cordelia. "When was an opportunity like that going to present itself?" she asked.

By this time Buffy had hauled Martin up and slammed his face on the desk.

"I'm in something of a hurry, so I would appreciate it if you could skip the part where you deny involvement in this and demand to know who I am," Buffy said. "My sister's picture is prominent on your wall, so we both know that would be a waste of time – and that delaying the process is not in your best interest."

Martin frantically looked at the two other women. Anya openly yawned. Cordelia shook her head. "I'm just here to watch," she said in a bored tone.

"You…you…" Martin was regaining his ability to speak.

"…don't hurt human beings. I think we both know you barely qualify." Buffy said in a distracted tone. "I imagine I'll be undergoing an existential crisis in a few hours because of what I'm doing to you" she threw him against the wall, "but again, that's later and you can't worry about more than the next three minutes."

"That's how long it'll take?" Anya said in a surprised tone. "I guess you're not as angry as you thought."

"Seriously don't slow down on his account," Cordelia said. "We'll be more than willing to help."

Anya nodded. "Granted we're only human, so we won't be as certain with our blows and cuts, but that could be a plus…or a minus, you know I'm not sure."

Cordelia nodded. "You're right. We should call in the expert in this field. And my ex, I mean her ex-boyfriend. Maybe you know the name."

The man was wearing dark black pants so it was impossible to tell just how much he reacted to this internally, but Martin clearly got the point. "What do you want to know?" he demanded.

Now Cordelia was disappointed. "This is one of the best agents in LA? I am supremely underwhelmed."

"I mean, if you can't negotiate if your life depended on it, how are you going to survive in this town?" Anya said with a similar note of dismay in her voice. "Now you really would be doing the world a favor by getting rid of him."

"I was just the middleman!" Martin shouted.

"And what, you did this for more than your ten percent?" Buffy said. "Perhaps that's what I should take from you before I leave."

Martin was shaking visibly now. "I have the contact information for the people who wanted the job done in my wallet!"

"Now that's just lazy!" Cordelia said. "A real villain would have it in a wall safe somewhere or in a hidden compartment in his desk. Seriously, this is what evil is like in this town?"

Buffy took this in. She picked Martin off the floor.

Then held him upside down until everything in his pockets, including his wallet, came out before dumping him back on the floor again.

Buffy picked up the wallet and handed it to him. "This is what you're going to do next. So follow my instructions as if your life depended on it – because it does."

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Sally was walking back towards her agency when she saw the same three women walking out.

Anya walked up to Sally as Buffy and Cordelia went to the car. "It's a good news-bad news situation," she told Sally. "Let's just pull the band-aid off first. Your services are no longer required her. I wouldn't try to collect a paycheck from anyone here for the foreseeable future and going forward, I'd tried to leave out this job on any resume you might submit."

Sally took this in. "And the good news?"

Anya handed her a different business card from Martin's wallet than they'd wanted. "Call this number tomorrow. A story editor will be available to look at your screenplays."

Sally took this in.

"Just don't mention Kato Martin when you do," Anya lowered her voice. "He's about to be dead in this town."

HYPERION

SECOND FLOOR

It had taken a little more than two months but Willow had finally perfected the ball of sunshine spell. She was not surprised that whoever had sent the enemies at them had leaned heavily on the vampires. They must have thought that because the Slayers weren't around they'd have the advantage.

They had been proven wrong.

She hesitated before using her telepathy spell – it had bothered Xander before she'd realized she was starting to overuse magic. Still, this was a crisis. So she reached out -gently.

I know you didn't like this part.

FIFTH FLOOR

"It's okay, Will," Xander said "Just don't use it on Fred or Gunn, it'd probably scare the hell out of them. You finished downstairs?"

I'm going to another quick sweep, but I think so. How about on your floor?

"I may be a glorified bricklayer –" He finished put a stake through his target's heart "but I can get the job done. Do me a favor, could you or Tara get up to Fred's level? I'd hate to have a reason for Angel to be legitimately pissed at me."

SECOND FLOOR

Willow concentrated on Tara. Baby, I'm finished down here. How are things going for you?

THIRD FLOOR

Tara's magic had always been more a light force than Willow's had been, but she been better served by telekinesis than Willow had managed. Over the last few months, she had managed to use that power to help throw heavier objects at demons and vampires and it had served her well.

Not bad. I think we've turned the corner. The darker presences in this hotel are on the retreat.

Including on Fred's floor?

Tara gave a light chuckle. You remember all those drawings I showed you by Rube Goldberg last winter?

Yeah.

There was a loud crash from the floor above – the most recent in a series. I think Fred must have studied it extensively and perfected over the last few months.

Another crash.

I guess Xander was right. It's always the quiet ones Willow sent with a particularly positive thought. Why don't you go up and make sure she's okay? Shy girl power and all that.

Sure thing sweetie.

Willow focused on Xander. Tara says were just about out of the woods.

There was quiet. Willow was alarmed.

Xander?

A pause.

FIFTH FLOOR

"Willow. Go to the fourth floor now. I need you to get Fred and make sure she stays safe."

"Xander, what's wrong?"

Xander was trying to remain calm. Which was extremely difficult considering how he was looking at right now.

"You know, I have a lot regrets about my time on the Hellmouth," Darla said to Xander. "But in retrospect the biggest mistake I ever made was targeting Jesse first instead of you. Would have saved us all a lot of problems."

"Don't you dare mention his name," Xander said as calmly as he could utter.

"Don't worry, Xander," Darla shifted into her game face. "You'll see him again. Soon."

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I wanted the Giles-Wesley scenes for several reasons. First to deal with the new respect the two of them have gained for each other for the last two years, and second to discuss the very real problem of Cordelia's visions. It is more likely that Wesley would know the kind of problems these visions would bring on human through his years as a Watcher and have greater concerns than the rest. Giles and he are going to try and come up with a solution near the end of the fic.

Okay everything involving the agent that is dealing with Dawn is in part a way of my dealing with so much of what we've learned not merely about Whedon but so many people in the Hollywood system. In a sense this has been going on since the dawn of the studio system and its only now truly coming to light. That said, I didn't want to make it too dark, so I decided to balance by having Cordelia get to play the role of Hollywood star and Anya get the play the only kind of person more ruthless than a vengeance demon. (And honestly, that scene in the agent's office would be revenge fic for so many aspiring actresses in the system, so that's for them.)

I thought it a real possibility that while the monks might have done everything to make sure Buffy and everyone in Sunnydale remembered Dawn, there were going to be some things they'd overlook. Fred, because she has the ability to think around corners, would have reasoned it out first.

Spike is very smart and he knows from his time with Buffy that trauma can cause damage. The fact that the Scoobies care too much for one of their own is something that, indeed, everyone in the car has been on both sides of over the years.

Look up Rube Goldberg on the internet and you'll enter a wonderful world. I was tempted to use a Home Alone reference (which might have been more accurate concerning Fred) but I think there's a chance she studied in college as much as Tara and Willow might.

I actually had a Darla/Xander confrontation planned for this story. Trust me, you're gonna love how it plays out.

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