Shadow Over Hellmouth Chapter 83: Blood Money, a buffy: the vampire slayer fanfic

"Blood Money"

Based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episode "Checkpoint" Written by Douglas Petrie and Jane Espenson and the Angel Episode "Blood Money" Written by Shawn Ryan and Mere Smith

At the Hyperion, in the lobby, at night, Cordelia put a hand to her forehead and began to stagger. She fell down behind the counter in throes of a vision, and the guys didn't even notice.

"Guys..."

Wesley and Gunn rushed over to her.

Wesley cradled her head in his lap. "Easy. Breathe...breathe..."

"What is it?" Gunn asked. "What you're getting."

Cordelia breathed hard. "It - It has two heads. And it breathes fire. It's gigantic."

The guys helped her up.

"And it's rising up in the sewers, beneath Kenyard School for Girls."

The guys rushed out the door.

"You shouldn't go alone!" Cordelia called after them.

Anne was walking down a sidewalk in a residential neighborhood, carrying a big box, and was bumped into by Angel, coming the other way, and he knocked the box out of her hands, spilling clothes onto the ground.

"Oh, Jesus..."

"Oh!" Anne exclaimed.

Angel started to gather up the clothes. "I'm sorry."

Anne put down her purse and started to help. "No, it was me. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Angel put clothes back in the box and looked at her. "Fine."

"I just...I couldn't see over the box. I was rushing. I'm late for work."

Angel held up a cloth with big bright spots on it. "You do clown work?"

Anne laughed. "No. Just some old clothes that got donated."

"East Hills Teen Center."

Anne stared at him.

"It's on the box."

Anne looked at the box. "Oh. Right."

Angel straightened, holding the box. "You missed one."

Anne picked it up. "Thanks." She saw her purse on the ground. "Oh. Oops. Hold on." She picked it up, then accepted the box from Angel. "Okay. I think I'm good. I'm really sorry."

"No problem."

"They're for the kids. We close in a couple of hours, and there is always a feeding frenzy when a new batch comes in."

"You work with runaways?"

"Some of them. Some are from around here, just don't have anywhere to go. We, um, give 'em food, clothes, somewhere to stay if they need it."

"That's good. It's good that someone's..." Angel paused. "It's - It's good to do." He gave her a slight smile.

"Well, I'm late."

"Right."

Anne turned to go with a smile. "See you around."

"Uh-huh."

Wesley and Gunn, each carrying an ax, creeped along a sewer tunnel.

"So it's big."

"Big."

"And fire-breathing."

"Breathing."

"Big, two-headed, fire-breathing-"

"I think we all have the picture, Gunn. It's not a teddy bear, and it probably shouldn't be attending the Kenyard School for Girls."

"You know, right about now, I wouldn't mind-"

"Don't say it! We don't have him, and it's not going to do any good wishing we did!"

"I was gonna say some dynamite."

"Oh. Dynamite." Wesley paused. "Maybe it's not too late to go back and-"

There was a deep, low roar. Wesley and Gunn looked at each other, then inched towards the end of the tunnel and leaned forward to look around it. Their eyes tracked upwards as their mouths slowly dropped open. They pulled back and looked at each other.

"Oh, God."

"The tunnel is almost twenty feet tall. It was crouching."

Wesley swallowed. "Uh, well. We'll take another look, and then we'll-"

"-die!"

They leaned forward to take another look, and Gunn got ready to charge.

Wesley held him back. "No, no, wait. Wait. Wait until its back is turned. Now!"

They jumped out into the main tunnel - only to flinch back from a jet of flame. Wesley waved a hand in front of his face.

"I thought she said he breathed fire!" Gunn yelled.

Both of them charged out of the tunnel with a loud battle cry.

At the Summers' house, Tara, Amy, and Harmony sat on the sofa in the living room. Buffy and Giles were standing. Dawn was standing on the stairs, listening in, wearing pajamas.

"Here, I'll get that." Buffy moved around, trying to pick up stuff that was laying around. "Sorry. Mom's still not a hundred percent, and I guess I haven't really been taking up the slack."

Amy shook her head. "No, the place looks fine, Buffy."

Tara nodded. "Yeah, it's just us."

"Um, aren't we supposed to have a meeting?" Harmony asked.

Giles nodded. "Uh, yes, yes, we-we're here for a reason."

Buffy sat in a chair.

"I've had some rather, uh...well, I've had some news. It seems that the Council of Watchers has...found some information that may help us out."

"About the woman?" Buffy asked.

"Presumably. We'll find that out when they...arrive. Could be very important."

"Arrive? They're coming here? Now? W-Why do they have to come here?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, don't they have phones?" Harmony asked.

"Yeah!" Buffy exclaimed. "Phones. See, I'd like them on phones."

"Um, they, well, they can appear a bit...well, uh, hard-nosed, but, uh, well, essentially, their agenda is the same as ours: they want to save the world and kill demons."

Buffy frowned. "Giles, I don't want them to come here. I don't trust them. Make them not come here."

"They're probably already on their way. Our old friend Quinton Travers is...heading up the delegation."

"They put me through that test, and it almost killed me. Honestly, I really can't handle almost being killed right now."

"Are you sure they're English?" Harmony asked. "I-I thought English people were, um, gentler than, uh, normal..."

Tara offered Buffy a small smile. "Maybe it won't be so bad this time. I mean, Buffy, now that they've punished you for murder, maybe they won't care enough to kill you."

Buffy sighed. "It's not just that. They're gonna fuck everything up. I-It's a delicate time right now. I-I have to take care of Dawn, and-"

"But that's not new; you've always taken care of her."

"Right. Right, I-I know that; it's just, you know, there's - there's the mystery bitch, and - and I don't need the Council looking over my shoulder when I don't even know what we're dealing with."

Giles frowned. "Well, that's precisely why we need to talk to them."

"Dawn, honey, what are you doing up at this hour?" Joyce asked. "Go back to bed."

"I was just getting a snack."

"Dawn, are you listening?" Buffy asked.

"I can get a snack if I want to." Dawn turned and went back upstairs.

"Giles, you were saying...something?" Buffy asked.

Giles sighed. "Um, just that...if the Council knows something about this woman, her agenda or her origins, then...then maybe it will help us get a-a-a grip on what we're dealing with. Right now, I think we're - we're a bit lost."

At East Hills Teen Shelter, a girl was meeting with Anne.

"What am I supposed to do? He's gonna want to come in."

"Then you tell him no! Benny knows the rules. He's not coming in here drunk. You turn him out. Don't even listen to him."

The girl left, and Anne noticed Angel standing a little ways away, holding a brown paper bag.

Anne smiled. "Hey!"

"Hey. Um, I brought some...I don't know if they're any good."

Anne took the bag. "That's great! Uh, we can take them over here."

They walked over to a table.

"Whoa. Now, let's see. What have you got?" Anne pulled out a flowered blouse. "Well, that's...not what I expected. What's the matter, it doesn't fit you anymore?"

"Cuts me across the bust."

Anne stared at him, unsure.

Angel smiled. "They're Cordelia's. She asked me to drop them off. Outdated...according to her."

"Well, I really appreciate..." Anne stopped. "We really appreciate this. Every little bit helps, you know?"

"I just wish I could do more."

"Well, if you're...not in a hurry. You up for a tour?" Anne asked.

Anne stepped into her office. "And here is the vibrant nerve center of our massive corporation."

"Wow. It's, uh..."

"Small. But I'm hardly ever in here."

Angel looked over at a cot. "You just come in for naps?"

"Oh, the bed. No, it's just sometimes I'm here so late that it's just easier than going home." Anne paused. "So...what do you think?"

"Amazing. You said it runs on donations?"

"Every last penny."

"Got to be tough...trying to stay ahead."

"It is. Thankfully, we have a guardian angel."

"Guardian angel?"

"Wolfram & Hart. Uh, it's a law firm. They've been a godsend in the last couple of months. Bailed us out of an eviction, defended a couple of our kids."

"They sound like saints."

"As far as I'm concerned. They're the ones that came up with the idea for the big hold-up."

"Hold-up?"

"Charity ball. It's a fundraiser for the center. Big TV celebrities go around and pretend to rob the guests of their donations. Wild West theme. It's gonna be big."

"And Wolfram & Hart's picking up the tab."

"They're donating everything, from the music to the food - plus they have connections to all the TV stars."

"That's not surprising."

"It's good for their image, I guess. And it's a pretty dorky theme - but, hey, whatever it takes, right?" Anne asked.

"Right."

Gunn and Wesley were sitting with Cordelia at a table at Cordy's.

"It's the biggest thing you've ever seen."

"And me and English here are just getting stomped, just ducking flames."

"It hurls me into the outflow drain..."

"And then you come crawling back, stinking, screaming curses. The mouth on this boy!"

"And Gunn hits him from behind, yelling 'Look at us when we kill you!', and both its heads turn."

Gunn got up and made a swinging motion. "Then 'shronk!' Wes buries his ax in the head number one."

"And Gunn is running him through, pulling out intestines the size of your leg!"

Gunn high-fived Wesley. "We turned him inside-out!"

They laughed.

"You weren't scared?" Cordelia asked.

"Oh, Mother in Heaven."

"Pants-wetting, praising-the-Lord-to-save-me kind of scared. All right?" Gunn asked.

Cordelia smiled. "But you did it."

"No. We did it." Gunn picked up some cans of beer and handed each of them one. "All of us."

They popped open their cans.

Wesley raised his drink. "All of us together."

Gunn raised his drink. "To us."

They clinked their cans together.

Wesley smiled. "To us."

Cordelia smiled. "To us."

They drank.

The next day, at the Magic Box, Giles was talking to a female customer. He was holding two books. "Well, if you're serious about these matters, all right, but...you need to be very careful. Measure precisely, and - and please don't step ahead."

"No, he's quite right."

Giles looked and saw Quinton Travers standing there with five other Watchers standing behind him: four men and one woman.

Quinton took one of the books from Giles and looked at it. "You wouldn't want to do anything dangerous. Turn the wrong person into a badger." He smiled and handed the book back.

"Quinton. I didn't realize you were here." Giles gave the book to the customer.

She walked off.

"Well, evidently."

"Been a while. I see you've, uh, brought some of our...colleagues with you. Would you care to introduce us?"

"Well, first, I thought we might catch up."

The other Watchers began to spread out through the store.

"Well, certainly, certainly. Uh, well, um, this is the shop, obviously." Giles began walking toward the counter.

Travers followed.

"Uh, i-it's been a very interesting transition into the world of retail. But I think it's gone rather well. I'll give you the grand tour if you like."

"No, that's all right, I think I can see what you've been up to."

"Yes, well, I-I, uh, do limit my time here, obviously."

Nigel, a Watcher, looked at the racks of magic stuff behind the counter.

"Buffy and I have been training a great deal these days. Uh, there's a-a back room..." Giles pointed toward the back.

Travers sat on a chair beside the counter. "Oh, yes. I thought perhaps you were keeping that space for the really dangerous items that should be kept out of the public's hands."

Giles frowned.

"Or maybe you don't worry about that."

"I'm very careful."

Nigel came over, holding a vial. "Most of this stuff couldn't harm anyone. Incense, dime store trinkets...but there are some things." He handed the vial to Travers.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Giles asked.

The female Watcher was looking at the stuff on another shelf. "There are some very potent elements here: focusing crystals, runic artifacts, an amulet of Cauldis. Also, this statue." She picked up a statue about two feet tall. "Its removal from Burma is a criminal offense..."

Giles was surprised.

She carried the statue over to Travers. "...and, when triggered, it has the power to melt human eyeballs." She gave the statue to Travers and walked off.

Giles chuckled. "In that case, I severely underpriced it."

Travers nodded to Nigel. "Uh, Giles, sorry, but this is just for the duration of our stay. I think you can see why."

Nigel took the book from Giles.

"What - What - Wha-What is just for the duration?"

Nigel stood in the middle of the store. "Magic Box shoppers! We're going to have to ask you to leave. The store is, uh, closing early today."

Philip a Watcher, took an item away from a customer. "Terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

The customers began to leave. Watchers escorted the customers out.

Giles glared at Travers. "You knew you were gonna do this before you even saw the place."

"I'm sorry. It's just for the duration of the Council's review."

"What review, Quinton? Let's just stop a moment and talk about this. Now, tell me about this review. No one said anything to me about this."

"Let's sit down and talk about it over here."

All of the Watchers moved toward the round table at the far end of the store. The female Watcher poured some tea. The others stood around.

Giles smiled. "You all stand around and look somber."

They did.

Giles rolled his eyes. "Good job."

"You used to respect us, Giles. You used to be one of us."

"You used to pay me. If you recall, firing me was not my idea."

"Touche." Travers sat at the table. "But you were on the inside once. You know what sort of resources we command."

Another Watcher put a suitcase on the table, opened it, took out some papers, and put them in front of Travers. The female Watcher gave Travers a cup of tea.

"We've discovered information about this creature of yours. Some of it is clearly vital, the rest merely extremely disturbing. And it won't be handed over until we're convinced that you and your Slayer are prepared for it. Thus the review."

Giles leaned over to put his hands on the table. "I'm not having you put her through another one of your insane tests."

"It's not a test. It's a check of her methods. We need to know that this information is safe."

"You can trust her." Giles straightened up. "Buffy's come very far recently. She's acquired a remarkable focus."

In a classroom at UC Sunnydale, Buffy was sitting among the students, yawning while the professor lectured.

"Now, Rasputin was associated with a certain obscure religious sect."

Buffy tapped her pencil on her desk. The girl next to her glared. Buffy saw her and stopped tapping the pencil but continued fidgeting.

"They held the tenet that, in order to be forgiven, one first had to sin. Rasputin embraced this doctrine and proceeded to sin impressively and repeatedly. The notion that he was in fact evil gained strength years later..."

Buffy fiddled with her pencil, dropped it, shrugged, and didn't pick it up.

"...when the conspirators who set out to kill him found it nearly impossible to do so."

"Nearly impossible?" Buffy asked herself.

"I'm sorry, there's a question?" the professor asked.

The students looked at Buffy.

The professor sighed. "Miss Summers, of course."

Buffy made a pained face and stood up as the professor gave her a disapproving look.

"I, uh, about, you know, killing him...you know, they - they poisoned him, and - and they beat him, and they shot him, and he didn't die."

"Until they rolled his body in a carpet and drowned him in a canal."

"But there are reported sightings of him as late as the 1930s, aren't there?" Buffy asked.

"I can assure you there is near-consensus in the academic community regarding the death of Rasputin."

"There was also near-consensus about Columbus, you know, until someone asked the Vikings what they were up to in the 1000s, and they're like 'Discovering this America-shaped continent.'"

The professor looked annoyed.

"I just...I'm only saying, you know, it might be interesting, if we...came at it from, you know, a different perspective, that's all."

"Well, I'm sorry if you find these facts so boring, Miss Summers. Maybe you'd prefer I step aside, so that you can teach your own course. Speculation 101, perhaps?"

The other students laughed.

"Intro to Flights of Fancy?"

The students laughed more.

"I only meant-"

"What was it you were going on about last week? Mysterious sleeping patterns of the Prussian generals?"

Buffy was annoyed.

"Now, some of us are here to learn. Believe it or not, we're interested in finding out what actually happened. It's called studying history. You can sit down now. Unless you have something else to add, professor?"

Buffy scowled and sat.

In the graveyard, at night, Buffy was fighting a vampire. She kicked him backward. "Miss Summers! Some of us are here to learn, professor!" She kicked him, then punched him twice.

The vampire swung; she ducked.

Buffy grabbed him and spun him around, then threw him against a headstone. "Maybe you'd like to teach your own class!"

"Who are you talking to?" the vampire asked.

Buffy approached, and the vampire punched her in the face. She spun around from the blow, got her bearings, and turned to attack again. She knocked him to the ground. As he got up, Buffy kicked him, then staked him.

Anne sat at her desk at East Hills Teen Shelter, writing in a book. She heard a sound, stood up, and went to investigate it. "Hello? Is anybody out here?"

"Anne."

Anne started and looked at Angel. "You startled me. What are you doing here?"

"I have to talk to you."

"Oh, boy. You're not...stalking me, are you?"

"Actually, I am."

Anne was surprised. "Excuse me?"

Angel pulled pictures out of a manila envelope and dropped them onto the little table between them. "These are pictures...I've taken of you. Surveillance photos."

Anne looked down at a picture of her and Lindsey and frowned. "I'm calling the police."

"Wait. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just couldn't stand lying to you anymore."

"Lying about what? That you're a psycho?"

"I've been following you, that's true. But not for the reasons you think."

"There is a good reason?"

"Wolfram & Hart. They're not saints, Anne. They don't care about you or your shelter."

"You're following me because-"

"I checked it out. They'll use your charity for good publicity. Offer to throw you a big fundraiser, money starts rolling in...but wait! You're not the one counting it. So who knows how much they're keeping back right from the start. Next, they'll give you a list of expenses, all very proper and necessary, but what do you know? After a certain number of miscellaneous, untraceable fees, you're left with five percent, tops."

"You follow me. Take my pictures. What makes you think I'll believe anything you say?"

"Wolfram & Hart are not what they say they are. They show the world one face, but it's not the truth. I can prove it. Everything they say is a lie."

"Guess you have something in common, huh?"

Lindsey walked into the shelter.

"Lindsey!" Anne exclaimed.

"Are you all right?" Lindsey asked.

"Fine. I-"

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Lindsey came to stand next to Anne. "Believe me, if I'd known this man was in contact with you, I'd come sooner." He faced Angel with a smile. "I'm just thankful that I got here in time."

Angel smiled back. "Little over the top. Maybe if you worked on that look of concern."

Lindsey looked at Anne. "He's unbalanced. Very dangerous."

Angel took a step closer to Lindsey. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Neither have you."

The door opened again, and Angel looked over his shoulder to see a demon.

"It's been a long time."

Lindsey looked at Anne. "I brought some protection."

Angel stared at the demon. "Boone. Working for Wolfram & Hart. I thought you had integrity."

"I do. Here's fair warning."

Boone stretched his hands down, and a metal coil wrapped itself around them, then jumped at Angel. Angel ducked and hit, then kicked, Boone as he got back up. Boone hit Angel in the stomach, then the back, dropping him to the ground, then threw him across the room. Anne and Lindsey watched as they continued to fight. Boone seemed at least as strong and as fast as Angel, and, after some more fighting, Angel ran out of the shelter.

Lindsey intercepted Boone as he tried to follow. "Wait."

"He's getting away!"

"That's fine as long as he's not threatening my client. Go out to the car. I'll meet you there. I don't think he's gonna be back tonight."

Boone stalked out.

Lindsey turned to Anne. "It's okay. Angel's gone. You're safe."

Anne looked from Lindsey, to the door, then back at Lindsey. "That...guy who beat up Angel, he wasn't human."

"No. You see, Anne, there is a different world-"

"Lindsey, I'm not naïve."

"Oh. Well, Angel's not human either. He's a vampire. He's a sick, deranged-"

"He says you're planning to steal most of the money from the fundraiser."

"Well, he's lying." Lindsey paused. "I mean...there are...expenses. You know how this works...with any charity event, especially one this big. But we don't steal."

"He says he has proof."

Lindsey paused. "He's lying about that, too. I mean...who're you gonna trust, Anne? You're gonna trust a mentally unstable vampire? Or you're gonna trust people that have worked night and day to put this fundraiser together for your kids?"

Anne shifted but didn't say anything.

"I would hate to see them lose out, because you made the wrong decision."

"So he doesn't have proof."

Lindsey paused. "He can't have proof."

At the Magic Box, Giles was walking out of the back room along with the other Watchers.

"We've been developing sort of a-a hybrid fighting style. Let me outline her progress for you, and I-I think you'll see that your review isn't strictly needed."

Buffy entered the shop, saw the Watchers, and tried to back out. "Bad day. Bad, baaad-"

"Miss Summers..."

Buffy stopped backing away at the sound of Travers' voice.

"...good to see you again."

Buffy entered reluctantly, closing the door behind her. "Mr. Travers."

"Giles has just been telling us of your training regimen. Perhaps you'll favor us with a demonstration while we're here."

"Right now?"

"No need to rush you."

Giles looked at her. "They're...staying a little longer than I'd anticipated."

"We've already laid out our project for Mr. Giles. Nigel?"

The Watchers and Buffy moved toward one side of the room while Giles stayed leaning against the counter.

Nigel looked at Buffy. "It's an exhaustive examination of your procedures and abilities. We'll observe your training, talk to your friends-"

"Talk to my friends?"

Travers looked at Buffy. "Yes, we understand you're still taking civilians out on patrols."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me."

"Buffy...I can sense your resistance, and I don't blame you. But I think your Watcher hasn't reminded you lately of the resolute status of the players in our little game. The Council fights evil. The Slayer is the instrument by which we fight. The Council remains; the Slayers change. It's been that way from the beginning."

"Well, that's a very comforting, bloodless way of looking at it, isn't it?" Giles asked scornfully.

"Giles, let me talk to Buffy, because I think she's understanding me." Travers looked at Buffy. "This woman is stronger than you. She's a more powerful instrument, if you will. We can help you. We have information that will help. Pass the review, and we give it to you without reservation. Fail the review, either through incompetence or by resisting our recommendations-"

"Resisting your recommendations?" Giles moved toward them, angry. "She fails if we don't do whatever you say! How much under your thumb do you think we are?"

"How much do you want our help?"

Giles poked his finger angrily at Travers; the other Watchers restrained him.

"She's not your bloody instrument, and you have no right to do any of this!"

"Giles!" Buffy yelled.

Giles shook off the other Watchers and moved away, frustrated.

"I understand you think this is unfair. But there are factors which should motivate you to go along with the review. Now, I don't want to do this, but obviously we could shut this place down permanently."

Buffy frowned. "You can't do that. You don't have that kind of power."

"Of course, we do - and a great deal more. In fact, if you insist on fighting us, we'll arrange to have Mr. Giles deported within the day. Never set foot in this country again. Now, perhaps you're used to idle threats and sloppy discipline, Miss Summers, but you're dealing with grownups now." Travers paused. "Am I making myself clear?"

Buffy looked angrily from Travers to Giles, who didn't look at her, and then back. She glared at Travers.

Anne was sorting stuff in her office when Angel slowly walked in.

"I sort of thought you'd show up again."

"You all right?"

"I didn't have a big monster pounding my face into the floor, so I figure I'm better than you."

"What did Lindsey say about me?"

Anne folded clothes. "That you were a bad man."

"Bad man."

"A psychotic vampire who cut off his hand, harassed his firm, and...is borderline schizophrenic." Anne paused. "I was giving you the short version."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't know."

"You're not afraid of me."

"Well, I've seen worse things since my cult days. A fourteen-year-old girl sitting in her own blood after a rough trick and dozens of people just walking right by, so, no, vampires, demons, even lawyers pretty much don't impress me. Maybe you had a good reason for cutting off Lindsey's hand. I don't care. I care about the shelter. If an evil law firm is gonna help me raise two-million dollars-"

"Of which you'll probably see only five percent of."

"Yeah, well, I did the math. Five percent of two-million is a hundred-thousand dollars. That's more money than this shelter could raise in two years."

"What about the other ninety-five percent? You don't care where that's going, who that could be hurting?"

Anne hesitated. "I can't."

"There is blood on that money, Anne. Are you the person who can ignore that? Have you become that yet? I don't think you have."

"You don't know what it takes to run a shelter-"

"Help me. Get me into the party." Angel pulled out an 8mm video tape. "Put this on, the world sees a whole new side of Wolfram & Hart."

"Why should I?"

"Because it's right. In the long run, it's better."

"Most of my kids don't have a long run." Anne hesitated. "No. I'm saying no."

Later, Buffy and Giles were alone. Buffy sat at the round table.

Giles paced. "It's a power play, that's what it is. It's about who has the power."

"I'm guessing they do?"

"I should have set you loose on them, that's what I should have done."

"Giles, that Travers guy is, like, sixty. I can't hit him." Buffy looked up. "Can I?"

"I suppose not. Well, I could. I think I will."

"Can they really do the shit they threatened? Kick you out the country?" Buffy asked.

"In a heartbeat." Giles took off his glasses, took out a handkerchief, and began cleaning his glasses. "See, the rough stuff, they're all right out there, a bit ham-handed, but they get it done, but, uh...this stuff, the, uh, bureaucracy, the pulling of political strings, they're the best in the world. They can kill you with the stroke of a pen. Poncy sods."

There was a crunching noise as Giles's glasses broke in his hands from too vigorous a cleaning. One of the lenses had popped out of the frame. Giles looked down at them.

"Am I gonna be able to get through this review?" Buffy asked softly.

"Well, I..." Giles walked over and sat next to her. "I suppose they'll make it as difficult as they want to. The physical stuff could be a bit of a challenge." He put on his glasses, then immediately took them off again.

Buffy stared at him. "That's not what I'm worried about. It's the other shit. Examining decisions I've made. I mean, twice now, I've been within slaying distance of that woman, and twice she's kicked my ass without even tensing a muscle. And I haven't been able to figure out...what she is or anything about her."

"Buffy, no one could have done any better than you."

"But no one else is gonna be asked the questions that I can't answer." Buffy was getting agitated. "They're gonna expect me to...to be like a Slayer and - and know shit, but I'm just me, and I don't know anything, and they're gonna go away, and they're not gonna tell me how to fight this woman."

"Buffy, calm down. The scandal here is not anything you've done wrong; it's the way they're behaving. Holding what they know hostage with a gun pointed at my bleeding green card, no less." Giles sighed. "It's humiliating."

"Also smart. They picked the perfect thing. I can't lose you."

"Thank you."

Buffy sighed. "I guess I should be getting ready. What do you think it'll be like? I mean...how do you think they'll start?"

At Willy's, Sandy and Sunday were being interrogated by the female Watcher while the other two male Watchers stood between her and the vampires. One of the men held a cross, the other a crossbow.

"But we understand that you help the Slayer."

Sandy smiled. "Uh-huh. Buffy's my friend."

Sunday rolled her eyes. "Speak for yourself, Sister Moon. I pitch in when she pays me."

"She pays you? She gives you money?" the Watcher asked.

"Money, food, whatever."

The Watcher frowned. "Is that what you want? I'd think you'd want to kill her. You've killed a Slayer before."

Sunday was intrigued. "Heard of me, have you?"

The Watcher gave her an embarrassed smile. "I...wrote my thesis on you. The Slayer that became a vampire." She walked closer to Sunday. "So tragic."

Sunday grinned. "Well, well. Isn't that neat? Tell me, sweetie, now that we're such good friends, how's the Slayer doing? Is she okay? High marks in all categories?" She grabbed the Watcher by the back of the head, kissed her on the lips, and released her.

The Watcher grinned, flustered. "Oh, yes!"

Sandy rolled her eyes and sipped her vodka tonic.

The next day, in Buffy and Tara's room, Buffy and Tara sat on their bed side-by-side. Nigel stood before them with a notebook.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Questions, great."

Tara looked at her. "Well, we can answer questions."

"Good. I need to know a little bit more about the both of you. Whatever you can tell me."

In Amy and Harmony's dorm room, Amy and Harmony sat on Amy's bed. Philip stood before them with a notebook.

Amy smiled. "Best friends, Tara and me and Buffy. The three of us have been together from almost the beginning. We've always gone on patrols and, uh, done demon research with her and everything."

"Have you mastered any fighting disciplines over the years?"

Amy thought about it. "Not exactly, but we're in Buffy's Slayer School."

"Slayer School?" Philip asked.

"Uh-huh. Buffy and Tara teach karate and other fighting skills to us and other girls from around town in their backyard."

"So...Miss Summers being the Slayer is an open secret in this town?"

"I wouldn't say it's any kind of secret, not since vampires invaded the school on Parent-Teacher Night in our junior year."

"And when was that?"

"Fall of 1997."

"I see. Thank you, Miss Madison." Philip jotted some notes down. "So you have no special skills or powers or knowledge that you bring to the mix. Neither of you."

Amy smiled. "Oh, well, I'm a witch."

"I see. And you, Miss Kendall?"

Harmony smiled. "I don't have any powers, but I do help."

"How? Be specific."

"Uh..." Harmony frowned in thought, then she smiled uncertainly. "I get the pizza, drinks, and doughnuts."

"Are you saying that the Slayer needs that level of help from you often?" Nigel asked Tara.

Tara shook her head. "No, no, she doesn't need help. She'd be fine without us. Sometimes, she goes off and does shit without even telling us."

Buffy glared at her in disbelief.

"Not that she's like a-a weird loner or anything." Tara paused. "I'm not sure I'm saying this right. See, here's the thing. I-I can help, because I do magic. Amy and I worked on this ball-of-sunshine thing. See, she had this theory. It's very cool. A-And it worked, so easier slaying for Buffy. Not that it's hard for her now!"

"Interesting. What level are you at?" Nigel asked her.

"Level?"

"Magical proficiency level?"

"Oh!" Buffy cut in. "Uh, high, a high level. Very high. One of those...top levels."

"Five!" Tara blurted.

Nigel wrote this down as Buffy and Tara gave each other anxious looks. Buffy mouthed "Five?" Tara shrugged.

"Seventy-four!" Amy blurted.

Philip raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything and wrote it down.

"And you're registered as a practicing witch under the name as you gave it to me?" Nigel asked Tara.

"R-Registered?" Tara asked nervously.

Buffy grinned. "Oh, yes! Yes, of course, she's-"

"-r-r-registered." Tara nodded.

"So...Buffy sometimes protects you from the dangerous elements of her work."

Harmony smiled. "Yes. She's saved my life lots of times. The vampires in this town hate her."

In the workout room in the back of the Magic Box, Nigel was tying a blindfold around Buffy's head. Giles and the other Watchers were standing around. Tara sat nearby.

Travers paced. "Agility, clarity, stamina, and strength: these are the qualities that the Slayer must possess to do her job."

Buffy frowned. "What came after agility?"

Philip stood next to the dummy, wearing a karate gi.

Giles looked at Travers. "If you want her to attack the dummy-"

"No, no. Philip will attack the dummy. The Slayer's job is to protect it. Do you understand?" Travers asked Buffy.

"Protect the dummy."

"As if it were precious. Now, getting the best of Philip will require agility. Listening to my instructions at the same time, that will demonstrate clarity. And stamina and strength will win the long fight. Good luck."

"Instructions?"

"Yeah, I'll be telling you what to do, how to counter Philip's attack. We assume you're familiar with the Japanese names for aikido and jiu-jitsu moves."

Buffy frowned. "I don't really study those. I take Shotokan karate."

Travers frowned. "I see."

"It's served me well."

"And your rank?" Travers asked her.

Buffy smiled proudly. "Just made black."

"What took you so long?"

Tara stood up. "I took a few classes in bōjutsu. I've given Buffy some weapons training. We also took a few jiu-jitsu classes last year to improve our grappling, throwing, and weapon use. As for aikido, its primary purposes are defense and not harming your opponent, which we felt was unneeded in our situation. Regarding Japanese terminology, while we do learn and use it, it's important to remember those terms - as well as the belt system and the dōjōs - were put in place later. In the old days, if you wanted to learn, you had to find someone willing to teach you. There were no ranks until 1924 and no Shotokan dōjōs until 1936. Also, before proper names for the kata were developed, the teacher would simply describe what they wanted the student to do."

Travers stared at her. "Thank you for the history lesson, Miss Maclay."

Tara smiled good-naturedly and sat down.

The female Watcher clicked a stopwatch. "And go!"

"Whoa, hold on a second. We, uh, you know, in America, we usually just work our way up to 'Go'."

Philip bowed toward Buffy. He was holding a short ax.

Travers looked at Buffy. "Rei."

Buffy bowed.

"Kamae."

Buffy prepared.

"Hajime."

Philip circled around her. Buffy followed his movements. He thrust at the dummy, and Buffy blocked. Then she kicked at him and missed. She spun around and blocked his overhead punch.

"Tsuki."

Philip punched Buffy in the face. Buffy punched Philip in the face.

"Ushiro geri."

Buffy back-kicked, and Philip moved out of the way.

"Empi uchi."

Buffy thrust with her elbow, and he avoided it.

"How have you been training her?" Travers asked Giles.

"I've trained her to win."

Buffy was annoyed. "You know what? I'm gonna have to do it my way, guys."

Philip swung the weapon, and she ducked. He lifted it for an overhead blow, and Buffy grabbed the handle, kicked him in the stomach, forced him back against the training horse, and elbowed him in the face. He tumbled backward over the horse, losing his grip on the weapon. The momentum pulled it out of Buffy's hands, and it flew backward to land in the dummy's chest, knocking the dummy backward into Nigel. He fell to the floor with the dummy on top of him.

Buffy turned around, pulling the blindfold off. The female Watcher kneeled by Nigel and clicked the stopwatch.

Buffy frowned. "Uh-oh."

The others helped Philip up.

"I think she just broke my rib."

Travers eyed Buffy. "Yes, well."

"I didn't mean to. Um, you know, I-I can do better. I think I might be getting this, like, inner-ear thing, and so maybe - maybe, if I got a note, I-I could try again."

"No, that's all right, I don't think we need to see any more physical tests for a while. We can move on to the real review. Look into your strategies, plans, figure out what's going on in that head."

Buffy frowned. "Good. Head stuff."

"We start at eight tonight. Give you time to, uh..." Travers looked from Buffy to Giles. "...well, however you prepare."

The Watchers left. Buffy, Tara, and Giles were glum.

Buffy entered the Summers' home and put down her bag. "Mom?"

She walked toward the living room. As she rounded the corner, she came face-to-face with her mystery woman.

"Long day, sweetie?" she asked.

Buffy looked apprehensively at her.

She checked out the living room. "So...this is where the Slayer eats, sleeps, shits, fucks, and..." She ran her finger through the dust on a side table. "...combs her hair?" She picked up a photo. "Oh...so cute." She held it up for Buffy to see, then put it down. "I can't even stand it. Personally? I need more space, but, uh, this is good for you; it's - it's so quaint and-"

While the woman was speaking with her back to Buffy, Buffy had moved across the room to the fireplace and picked up a poker. When she straightened up, the woman was right behind her.

"Buffy..." She took the poker. "If I wanted to fight, you could tell by the being dead already." She went to sit in an armchair and giggled. "So play nice, girl."

"What do you want?"

"The key. Why else do you think I'd come here again?" She pointed the poker at Buffy. "See, I think you know where it is. And that's a good thing."

Buffy was confused but played along. "I'm glad you think so."

"Well, it's the only thing keeping you alive right now. Because you may be queen in vampire world..."

Dawn entered behind the woman. Buffy looked at Dawn in alarm but tried not to let the woman see her looking.

"...but, to me, you're a bug. You should get down on your knees and worship me!"

Dawn walked closer. Buffy widened her eyes to signal Dawn to go away.

"But oh, no, you still think it's neat having Slayer strength."

Dawn mouthed "What?" at Buffy.

"Ooh, big deal! Stronger than humans!"

Dawn began to back away.

"Who isn't? I could crush the life from you as easy as you'd break a nail. But I need the key."

Dawn had reached the stairs. She began to turn away.

"Kid!" the woman yelled.

Dawn stopped. Buffy was alarmed.

"Come here a sec."

"Leave her out of this."

"Not asking twice."

Dawn approached, still behind the woman and out of her line of sight.

Buffy stared at the woman. "This is between you and me."

"No. This is between me and my key. You just happen to be the thing in the way." The woman lifted her hand over her head and snapped her fingers.

Dawn walked into her view and folded her arms over her chest sullenly.

"And you are just the darlin'-est thing I ever did see in my life. Dawn, right? Did you know your sister took my key, Dawnie? And she won't give it back! I bet you know where she put it, don't you?"

Buffy stared at the woman. "She doesn't know anything."

Dawn looked at Buffy, annoyed. "I know some stuff."

"I bet she takes your shit all the time without asking, doesn't she?" the woman asked. "Where's my key, Dawn?"

"Go upstairs, Dawn."

Dawn left.

Buffy folded her arms over her chest. "You know our names, but we don't know yours."

The woman grinned and sat in a chair. "You can call me Glory." She paused and got serious. "I'll kill her. I'll kill your mom. I'll kill your friends. And I'll make you watch when I do." She sighed. "Just give me the key. You either have it or know where to find it." She stood up. "Obviously, this is a one-time-only deal. Next time we meet, something you love dies bloody. You know you can't take me. You know you can't stop me."

She dropped the poker on the floor and left. Buffy watched her go with a grim expression.

Joyce entered the room. "Buffy, who was that?"

"Pack a bag."

Buffy rang the doorbell of Sunday's mansion and waited. Soon, the front door creaked open slightly.

Sunday peered out at her. "What the fuck do you want at this godly hour?" She started to rub her eyes sleepily, paused, and looked past Buffy.

Dawn and Joyce were standing there.

"So what's with the family outing?" Sunday asked, surprised.

"I need your help."

"Great. I need your cash."

"I'm serious. You have to look after them."

"Well, that's a shitload of responsibility to come flying out of nowhere. What's the matter, Buffy? You're not feeling a hundred percent?" Sunday asked.

Buffy frowned. "No."

Sunday smiled, amused.

Buffy was annoyed. "Sunday, I need an answer. Now. In or out? You're the only one strong enough to protect them."

Sunday considered it.

Buffy raised a brown paper bag. "I'll toss in some buffalo wings."

Sunday looked at her for a moment. "All right." She stepped backwards. "Ladies...come on in. There's plenty of blood in the fridge."

Buffy pushed the door open and walked into the mansion. Dawn and Joyce followed.

"Do you mean, like, real blood?" Dawn asked.

Sunday rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

"Mostly, I think 'Ew'."

Buffy looked at Joyce. "Keep Dawn here as long as you can. I'll be back soon."

"Okay."

Buffy walked over to Sunday and offered her the bag. "I don't think I need to remind you, but-"

"Yeah, yeah." Sunday took the bag.

Buffy left. Sunday, Dawn, and Joyce stood around, uncomfortable.

Joyce looked at Sunday. "I-I love what you've, um, neglected to do with the place."

"Just don't break anything." Sunday went to turn on the TV. "And don't make a lot of noise. Port Charles is coming on."

Joyce walked forward. "Port Charles? Oh, what do you think of the Fate story arc so far?"

Dawn made an exasperated face and walked off.

At Wolfram & Hart's Highway Robbery Ball, at night, a video was playing up on a big screen. Holland Manners, wearing a shirt (but no tie) and a knit cardigan over it, was sitting on a park bench.

"The world can be a dangerous place, especially for our most vulnerable citizens: our children." Holland petted the collie sitting at his feet, then got up. "Far away from home, with little money and even less hope, too many runaways find themselves on the streets, over their heads, and under society's radar."

Anne looked around, then sipped Champagne from the fluted glass in her hand.

Holland came up next to a disheveled kid sitting on another park bench. "But there is a place, right here in Los Angeles, that can help these troubled kids - the East Hills Teen Center." He held out a hand to the kid and helped him up. "It's a terrific refuge that we at Wolfram & Hart support one-hundred percent."

Lilah Morgan beckoned to Anne. Anne walked over to Lilah and a bald guy wearing thick-rimmed glasses.

"Anne. I'd like you to meet one of my bosses at Wolfram & Hart, Nathan Reed. Mister Reed, this is Anne."

Nathan shook Anne's hand. "So this is the young woman whose dedication and hard work brings us together tonight."

"Well, I...try to help...where I can. Thank you for everything, sir."

"I like to think of my job as underlining the 'heart' in Wolfram & Hart."

Lilah smiled. "Remember, save some time for interviews tonight. Now, whether you like it or not, you are the public face of this charity."

Nathan smiled. "And what a face it is."

"Yes. Never underestimate the power of positive publicity."

Holland, on the screen, now in a suit and tie, was standing in front of his desk. "Can we really change the world? At Wolfram & Hart...we're counting on it."

People applauded as Holland's name and "1951 - 2000" were superimposed over his smiling image.

Lilah walked up on the podium and was shown on the screen, transmitted from one of the many camera operators circulating in the crowd.

"Holland Manners is gone, but I feel he's looking down on us tonight. Don't you feel it? The truth is...Holland had a vision of the future most of us can't imagine. Let's make it come true...together."

The audience applauded.

"Now, let's get started - but not with a plea for money. No, no. No, we're not here to ask you for money; we're here to take it at gunpoint."

That got laughter from the audience.

"Please welcome our celebrity bandits, from the hit show, Life Lessons: Serena Tate, Holden Rayne, C.J. McCard, and Jordan Johns!"

There was applause as the celebrity bandits rushed into the crowd, wielding guns and carpet bags to collect the donations.

"Once again, I'd like to thank our wonderful stars from Life Lessons for giving so generously of their time."

There was applause as the stars smiled and waved.

"And to you, our benefactors, let me just say that we really can change the world. With your support, we can make it a safer place for all our children."

There was applause, which gave way to talk as everyone's attention was drawn to Angel and Boone fighting on the open upper level. Screams rang out as Boone and Angel toppled over the low wall and landed a little ways beside the table with the money. Angel and Boone continued their fight where they landed, and Boone sent Angel sliding over the table with the cash, knocking some of it off. Two guards grabbed a hold of Angel as he got back up.

During the distraction, Anne walked towards the video equipment, pulling the 8mm video tape out of her purse. Lindsey and Lilah started to push their way through the crowd - for all to see up on the big screen, thanks to a diligent camera operator capturing all of the action.

"Excuse me!" Lilah yelled.

Anne inserted the tape and pressed Play, and everyone saw a pair of black shoes walking up on the big screen and heard Wesley's voice: "How do you turn this thing on?"

"Just give it to me!" Cordelia yelled as the picture jerked.

"Uh, it's not a toy! It's an expensive piece of equipment. It's for gathering evidence."

The camera now showed Cordelia's beige boots.

"Let go."

"You're just gonna play with it, aren't you?" Wesley asked.

The picture changed to Cordelia talking to a coatrack.

"I gave you two children, Bill, and you leave me for a man? No! Don't speak! Don't say anything! What is there to say? You said it all..." Cordelia slapped the coatrack, knocking it over.

The picture changed to Cordelia drinking a tall glass of milk.

"Hmm, milk."

Anne's eyes remained riveted to the screen.

Cordelia said "Hmm, milk' in different ways, trying to convey different emotions. "I don't get it. How am I not working?"

The screen went to snow for a moment.

"What's happening?" Lilah asked.

Then Wesley was dancing up on the big screen, snapping his fingers.

Angel came to stand next to Anne. "Looks to me like you two were acting like a couple of crazy people - on camera, too. Ouch."

Wesley looked into the camera. "Price. Wesley Wyndham-Price."

"Isn't that the guy that's dating Virginia Bryce?" Serena asked.

The crowd started to laugh as Wesley launched into a striptease dance.

"You don't have us on tape, do you?" Lindsey asked Angel.

Angel smiled. "I got nothing. Do you know how hard it is to secretly record someone as paranoid as you two?"

On the screen, Wesley apparently heard someone coming into the office and jumped towards the camera, putting his hand over the lens as he dropped down with it.

The picture changed to show Gunn and Angel, poorly dressed up as Jules and Vincent, respectively, from Pulp Fiction, pointing guns loaded with blanks at Wesley, who was holding a briefcase and looking scared.

Gunn frowned menacingly. "Are you a super-dope homeboy from the Oaktown?"

"What?!" Wesley asked nervously.

Gunn fired a blank. Wesley pretended to be shot and cried in pain.

"Are you...a super-dope homeboy...from the Oaktown?!" Gunn demanded.

Wesley shook his head frantically. "No!"

Gunn snatched the briefcase from Wesley's hand. "Then u can't touch this!"

Lindsey frowned. "This whole thing was a setup."

Lilah frowned at Angel. "You hired Boone."

"No. You did. For a whole lot of money, too."

Lindsey turned to look towards the tables. "The money."

He and Lilah ran back through the crowd, pushing people aside and yelling.

Angel walked out of the hotel.

Anne followed him out, walked up behind him, put a hand on his arm to turn him around, then slapped him full in the face. "How dare you? I risked everything in there. I risked my kids. You never even planned to expose the scheme."

"They would have covered it up. I just wanted to shake them up a bit. It's not much, but it's a start."

"And the money?"

"The money was tainted."

"I don't even care about-"

"Yes, you do. That's the difference between us." Angel paused. "You still care." After looking at her a moment longer, Angel turned and walked off.

At the Magic Box, the Watchers were walking around, looking at books, and moving stuff around. Giles sat in a chair by the table, a pile of papers spread out in front of him. Jenny, Amy, Sandy, Harmony, and Tara sat on the balcony above, looking down. Their feet dangled in the air and they leaned against the railing, watching the Watchers.

"Why doesn't Mr. Giles put them all out of here?" Tara asked.

Jenny looked at her. "Because they'll deport him, destroying his career."

Travers walked over to where Giles was sitting. "Well, your Slayer's twenty minutes late and counting, Rupert."

"Buffy will be here, I assure you."

Travers chuckled. "Yes, but when?" He sat down next to Giles.

The door opened, and Buffy entered the shop.

Travers stared at her. "You're late."

"Yeah."

"We can begin the review at last. We'll, uh, skip the more obvious questions-"

"There isn't gonna be a review."

"Sorry?"

"No review. No interrogation. No questions you know I can't answer. No hoops, no jumps-"

Nigel opened his mouth to speak.

"-and no interruptions."

Nigel closed his mouth.

Buffy looked around, then began to pace. "See...I've had a lot of people talking at me the last few days. Everyone just lining up to tell me how unimportant I am. And I've finally figured out why." She looked Travers in the eye. "Power. I have it. They don't. This bothers them." Buffy moved back to the table, removing her coat. "Glory...came to my home today."

"Glory?" Giles asked.

"My mystery bitch. That's her name...or, at least, the name that she gave me."

Giles stood up, alarmed. "Buffy, are you-"

"Just to talk." Buffy put her coat on a chair, then resumed pacing. "She told me I'm a bug; I'm a flea; she could squash me in a second." She stopped and looked at Travers again. "Only she didn't. She came into my home, and we talked. We had what, in her warped brain, probably passes for a civilized conversation. Why?" She paused. "Because she needs something from me. Because I have power over her." Buffy looked around, hands on her hips. She walked the floor, looking from one Watcher to the next as she talked. "You guys didn't come all the way from England to determine whether or not I was good enough to be let back in. You came to beg me to let you back in. To give your jobs, your lives, some semblance of meaning."

Nigel frowned. "This is beyond insolence-"

Buffy grabbed a stake from her pocket and threw it across the room in a single movement. It flew point-first into the wall, directly in front of Nigel's nose. He jumped back, looking shocked.

Buffy cleared her throat. "I'm fairly certain I said no interruptions."

Amy and Tara grinned.

"You're Watchers. Without a Slayer, you're pretty much just watchin' Masterpiece Theatre. You can't stop Glory. You can't do anything with the information you have." Buffy paused, then looked at Travers again. "So here's how it's gonna work. You're gonna tell me everything you know. Then you're gonna go away." She resumed pacing. "You'll contact me if and when you have any further information about Glory. The magic shop will remain open. Mr. Giles will stay here as my official Watcher, reinstated at full salary-"

Giles coughed. "Retroactive."

"-to be paid retroactively from the month he was fired. I will continue my work with the help of my friends-"

The female Watcher looked at her. "I, uh, I...don't want a stake thrown at me, but - but civilians, I..." She paused. "We're talking about children."

Buffy looked up at her friends on the balcony. "We're talking about two very powerful witches, a technopagan, and a vampire with a heart of gold."

"The bimbo?" Philip asked. "No power there."

"Harmony has clocked more field time than all of you combined. She's part of the unit. Now. You all may be very good at your jobs. The only way we're gonna find out is if you work with me. You can all take your time thinking about that." Buffy turned back to face Travers. "But I want an answer right now from Quinton, 'cause I think he's understanding me."

Travers cleared his throat. "Uh, your terms are acceptable."

Giles smiled hugely. The Slayerettes burst into cheers and applause - but quickly stopped, embarrassed. Buffy looked up at them, then looked at Giles. She didn't smile but was satisfied.

Buffy sat across from Travers. "See? No biggie."

Travers nodded. "Uh, Rupert."

"Quinton?"

"When we inventoried your shop, we found a bottle of single malt Scotch behind the, uh, incense holders."

"Well, it's - it's not, you know, during working hours."

"I think I could use a glass."

Giles started to move away. "Well, I suppose we could-"

Buffy got up. "Just a minute."

Giles stopped.

"Glory. I wanna know."

Travers looked at her. "Well, there's a lot to go through."

"Just tell me what kind of demon I'm fighting."

"Well, that's the thing, you see. Glory isn't a demon."

"What is she?"

Travers paused. "She's a god."

Buffy was silent for a long time, her eyes widening. "Oh."

Angel dropped the bag with the money on Anne's desk. "All of it. Little bit more than five percent."

Anne reached in and took out some of the bundles of money. She saw Angel's face was badly bruised, and he had a split lip.

Angel turned to go. "Wolfram & Hart find out that you have that money-"

"I can find a way to hide it." Anne fingered the money, then looked at the dark liquid coming off onto her fingers. "What's this?"

"Blood."

Anne looked at him, looked down, hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. "It'll wash." She went back to removing the money from the bag.