Days passed, and there was still no sign of Dawson or Jerry Damon, my "Watcher," whatever that meant. All of us were on full alert and were probably getting extremely paranoid because of it, but none us could detect anyone following us around. Willow kept an eye on the hotels in case Joe Dawson rented a room there, and we staked out Mary's hotel room, but we didn't see anyone going over there, either.

I couldn't really concentrate on that right then, however. Right at that instant, I was in the library, sparing with Buffy.

We were doing hand-to-hand combat. We were evenly matched, pretty much. Both of us improvised. I had a three-hundred-year-old teacher who made up a few of his own, very useful tricks, and she had super-strength, basic knowledge of pretty much every martial art, and super-speed.

We were doing a series of punches and blocks at the moment. After several, I managed to trap her right arm, and she used her super-speed to swing out with her left and connect with my face, making me stumble back.

"Ow!" I said, putting a hand over my nose. I could tell it was broken.

Buffy looked surprised and guilty. "I'm sorry, Xander. I didn't mean to."

"Perhaps you should both take a break," Giles suggested. He'd been watching them spar. "And Xander, perhaps you should get someone to look at that."

I could already feel my Immortal healing abilities kick in. By the time I lowered my hand, my nose was fixed. I smiled. "Nah, it's okay. It's already healed."

"Oh, right. You've got those super healing abilities now." Buffy said, smiling awkwardly.

I sat at the new table Giles bought a few days ago to replace the old, Quickening-wrecked one. I uncorked a water bottle and took a long gulp. "You're not bad, Buff," I teased.

She smiled and sat across from me. "You're not bad yourself, Xand."

"Yes, your sword and hand-to-hand combat skills have improved significantly," Giles commented.

"Thanks." I grinned at Buffy before pulling my sword out of my jacket. "Want to spar some more?" I asked.

"Nah," she answered. "I have to meet Willow in the lounge to study for that history test."

"Yea, she's helping me study for that during lunch," I said.

"Still not doin' well in school, Xand?" a voice called from the library doors.

I heard the voice at the same moment I felt the Buzz. I smiled before I turned in my seat to look at the speaker. "Peter!"

"Hi, Xander," he answered.

I got up and went up to him. "What are you doing in Sunnydale?" I asked him. "I figured you had packed up and left."

"I did," my Immortal friend and mentor said. "But somethin' made me come back over here. Who're your friends?"

"This is Buffy and Giles," I said.

"Hi," Buffy said, giving a little wave while she glanced from me to him.

"Hello," Peter answered her, smiling politely.

Xander smiled. "It's okay, Peter. They know about Immortals."

Peter raised his eyebrow before turning back to regard Buffy. "Well, since that's out of the way - you would be the Slayer, right?"

"Uh…yeah," she answered, a little confused. "I thought most Immortals didn't know about all that hellmouthy stuff."

"Most of us don't," he said, a little cautious. Peter was always cautious but polite with everyone he met. It didn't matter if I'd told him fifty times already that Buffy was a friend.

"You are Xander's teacher, correct?" Giles asked.

Peter nodded. "And you're Buffy's Watcher. From London, England, too, but you've been here for at least a decade 'cause your accent has a little bit of American influence in it."

"Wow," Buffy said. She glanced back and forth from Giles to Peter, impressed.

I smiled. "That's Peter, never ignoring any detail, no matter how insignificant it may be."

Peter rolled his eyes at me, exasperated, and glared. "I've told you plenty of times already that you need to pay attention to as many details as you can in order to stay alive, so don't give me that."

"It's called sarcasm, buddy," I said, patting him on the back as if I were consoling him. "You'll get the hang of it one day."

He sighed, but I could see the smile appear on the corners of his mouth. On the other side of the table, Buffy covered her mouth and Giles tried hard not to smile. Buffy was unsuccessful and her giggles filled the library.

From Peter's look I knew I was in big trouble for embarrassing him yet again in front of two more people. Quickly, I changed the subject, hoping he'd forget about it. "So why'd you stop by?"

Immediately, he sobered. "A group of mortals came to my house last night. Some went inside, and the rest surrounded the house. I had to call an old friend up to help take care of 'em. Some escaped before we could get to them, but we managed to get one of 'em to talk. He said a guy named Jerry sent them, and that he had a personal vendetta against you. Got any ideas?"

I exchanged a worried glance with Giles and Buffy. "He's got friends," I stated.

"Was it those Watcher guys?" Buffy asked her ex-member of the Watchers' Council.

"It's possible," Giles said, concerned.

"Who are the Watchers?" Peter asked.

I told him what I knew. "We should check them out, try to find out as much as we can about them."

I nodded. "We're working on it." I told him what had happened in the past few days.

"And Mary and Jerry know everything about you?" Peter said.

I nodded. "Everything that's taken place since my first death, as far as I can tell."

"Is that Dawson guy still in Seacouver?"

Xander shrugged. "We don't know. Willow's keeping an eye on the local hotels until he shows up."

"Let's hope they send him."

The library door opened and Willow and Oz walked in. Willow was finishing a sentence she'd started outside the library. "-no sign of him again today. I'm starting to worry if he'll ever show up at all."

That was when the three noticed Peter. They froze.

"My dad is here," Oz said, trying to cover. "We all like him, so we always look forward to his visits."

"It's okay, guys," I said. "This is Peter Lionhardt, my teacher."

"Hi," Peter smiled at them. Oz nodded in greeting.

"Xander told us you taught him how to sword fight," Willow pitched in.

Peter turned back to me with an incredulous look on his face. "What, did you tell the entire school while I was gone?"

I grinned. "Nope, just the members of the Scooby Gang, although I am planning on making an announcement over the loudspeaker next week. I've got a speech written for it and everything. It'll be extremely moving, too."

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Oz and I were heading for the Bronze. Wanna come?" Willow asked Buffy and me.

"Sure," Buffy said.

"Yea, sounds great," I said. I looked at Peter. "Want to come with us? It's the only place in town worth going to."

"Sounds fine, as long as your friends don't mind," Peter said.

"It's cool," Oz told him.

"See you later, Giles," Buffy called as we headed out the door.

*****

The rest of the week went by quickly. My friends got to know Peter and he got to know them. Every afternoon, Peter and I would spar. Sometimes, one of the gang would come and watch, and then they'd tease me whenever I got beaten. At least that didn't happen as often as it used to.

On Saturday, when we were sparing in a warehouse, no one came to watch. Peter and I were alone for the first time since he got back to Sunnydale.

We finished sparring, sat down, and drank some water. Then we started cleaning and sharpening our swords.

"So when did your friends find out about your Immortality?" Peter asked.

"A few weeks ago, actually," I answered. "For awhile, I thought they wouldn't accept it. But they did." I grinned at him. "Told you they would."

He grinned back, sadly. "There will be times when people will try to hurt you because of what you are."

"I know. You told me. I'll be careful, I promise."

"You'd better be." He stood up, slipped his sword into his coat, and slipped it on. "See you tomorrow."

"Peter-" I said, making him pause. "Have you ever heard of a Dark Quickening?"

He looked confused and shook his head. "Nope. What's that?"

"It's something Giles told me about," I said, uneasy. "He said that it's a Quickening that's strong enough to take over an Immortal."

He looked doubtful. "A Quickening strong enough to take over the Immortal that receives it? How does he know that something like that is possible?"

"It happened to a friend of his. He wasn't joking, either."

Peter sat back down, looking troubled. "If that's true, than we need to be careful."

I nodded. "It could happen anytime. Giles thinks it has to do with the number of Quickenings we receive."

"Well, I've taken hundreds of them, and something like that has never happened to me," Peter said, standing up again. "I'm gonna go to the hotel and think about this awhile. Watch your head." He turned and left.

"You, too," I called after him, not sure what else to say.

*****

I swung my convertible into its spot in the school parking lot and got out. I shut the door in frustration. Another day where I have to sit through classes, just waiting for the time when I could join in the search. It was Tuesday, two days after Peter Lionhardt went missing. He didn't show up at practice on Sunday morning, and he was still a no show at the library to help Giles translate a few texts and at the Bronze later that night. We looked for him. All of his stuff was still in his hotel room, and I knew Peter enough to know that he wouldn't just take off and leave without even saying goodbye. I guess it's possible that he did just that after hearing the news I gave him at practice that Saturday, but I really doubted it.

After twenty four hours had passed after we realized he was missing, we filed a report at the Sunnydale Police Department. I didn't think they would be very helpful, considering how much trouble they've given us in the past. It did, however, turn up Peter's car. It was found on the side of a highway several miles out of the Sunnydale town limits. The entire frame was shot throw with bullet holes, and there was blood on the driver's seat.

Peter wasn't in or near the car. So that meant someone, most likely Jerry, captured him, and by now they could be anywhere. And we didn't have any leads.

All of my classes seemed to take forever to go by. I kept thinking about my mentor. He was as much of a friend to me as the others were, besides Wesley and Angel. I owed him a lot, and I'd be damned if I'd let this Watcher guy, whoever he is, kill Peter.

When the final bell finally rang, I was out of my seat immediately and heading toward the library. Buffy met me on the way. The gang had become close to Peter, and Buffy was as eager as I was to continue the search.

Wesley, Cordelia, and Giles were crowding around Willow and the computer. "What have you got?" Buffy asked.

"Oh good, you're here. Willow has found something," Wesley informed them.

Willow looked up from the computer, "Dawson and two others just checked into the Sunnydale Motor Inn."

"Finally. Maybe they can give us some answers," I said. I was ready to give this other Watcher group a piece of my mind.

"Not so fast, Xander. We need to work out a strategy. If they are responsible for Mr. Lionhardt's capture, they will have guns and we must prepare for them."

Oz appeared in the door to Giles' office. "Xander, there's a phone call for you."

We turned to him, surprised. Everyone who would ever call me in the library was already present, except for Peter.

Hoping, I asked, "Who is it?"

Oz looked uneasy. "It's Jerry Damon. He wants to talk to you, Xander."

I exchanged a glance with everyone before walking into Giles' office. I picked up the phone. "Where is he?" I said into the receiver.

"Hello, Harris. If you want to see him alive, meet me at the warehouse your Slayer friend almost burned down last year. Six o'clock." He hung up.

I put the phone back in its cradle and turned to my friends. "He wants me to meet him at that warehouse Spike, Drusilla, and Angel were living in last year. He says he'll meet me there at six. I don't plan to wait that long. I'm going to see if I can get some answers out of Dawson."

"We'll come with you," Willow said. "You'll need backup if they're working together."

"Wesley, Angel, and I will meet you at the warehouse. Be careful," Giles said.

"Okay. See you there," I said before Willow, Oz, Buffy, and I headed out the door. I told them as we walked down the hall, "We need to make a stop at Peter's hotel room."

"What? Why?" Buffy asked.

I smiled. "Bulletproof vests."

*****

"So, Xander," Buffy began.

"Yea, Buff?" I asked as I pulled the convertible into the Sunnydale Motor Inn's parking lot.

"How did Peter get five bullet-proof vests?"

I smiled and shrugged. "Never asked him."

"Right," she said.

"Well, they're certainly coming in handy," Oz said. He was seated in the back seat next to Willow.

We got out of the car and walked over to Dawson's hotel room door. If anyone saw us, they would have seen three teenagers wearing vests, and the forth one, myself, taking out a sword. Maybe they would have thought that was an odd sight to see, although maybe not. We certainly have carried even stranger things around town in the past, like crossbows and stakes, without attracting anyone's attention.

Buffy knocked on the door. A minute later, it opened. Standing right behind it was Joseph Dawson. His profile matched the sheet we found in Mary's room perfectly.

Dawson tensed when he saw what we were wearing and what I was carrying. I could see the recognition on his face easily.

I came forward and asked, "Joseph Dawson?"

"That's me," he answered wearily.

"Do you know who I am?"

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Alexander LaVelle Harris, son of Anthony and Jessica Harris."

"How do you know all of that?" I asked him.

Joe sighed. "Let's go inside. Then we'll talk."

"Agreed," Buffy said. She and I followed Dawson inside, and Oz and Willow came in right behind us.

Joe sat down on the bed, and we stood around him. "What do you know about the Watchers?" I asked him.

"I can't tell you, kid."

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"Because I shouldn't. How do you even know about us, anyway?" Dawson asked.

"Where did Jerry take Peter Lionhardt?"

"Jerry's captured Lionhardt?" Joe asked, his face growing pale. He muttered a few curses under his breath, and in a few different languages, too.

"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Buffy advised. "'Cause I know for a fact that Xander is really pissed off, and we can't guarantee that we'll be able to hold him off if he decides to take it out on you."

I stared at Buffy and realized she was right. I was doing this wrong. My concern for my teacher was clouding my judgment. I needed to relax a little, or I'd never get any answers.

Dawson sighed and nodded. "The Watchers are an organization of historians. We observe and record the lives of Immortals, but always in secret."

"You spy on them?" Willow asked, unbelieving.

"I don't like the sound of that," I said, and I didn't. The knowledge that there was a whole organization out there dedicated to watching my every move wasn't a pleasant thought. I added, "Especially since some of your Watchers decided to kidnap my friend."

Dawson shook his head. "The Watchers are historians. We never interfere in the lives of the Immortals that we watch."

"Then how do you explain Damon?" Buffy asked sarcastically, not believing this guy.

Joe sighed. "Jerry Damon stopped sending in his reports about a month ago. When we found out he was falsifying his reports, we were sent to investigate." He gave us a wry grin. "I'm guessing you had something to do with that?"

Willow and I nodded. Oz asked, "Where are your friends, then?"

"They were heading for Sunnydale High, actually, to keep an eye on you and the general vicinity in case Jerry showed up. I guess they just missed you."

"How do we know you aren't lying?" I asked him. "How do we know you really aren't working with Jerry?"

"I guess you don't," Joe asked. "But if you're telling the truth that Jerry has captured Lionhardt, then I want to help get him back."

"Why?"

"Like I said, we don't interfere," Dawson said, "and we don't tolerate anyone who doesn't follow the rules." He winced, as if remembering something unpleasant while unconsciously rubbing his side.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked.

"Take Damon into custody as soon as we find him," Dawson answered. "We just need to find him first." He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Guys, it's almost six," Willow announced after glancing at the clock.

I looked at Dawson, then at the others. "What do you guys think?" I asked them. "Should we trust him?"

Buffy made the decision. "All right, Dawson," she said. "You go in and get Damon and his men after we've cleared out. Understood?"

Joe nodded. "Where is he?"

I didn't want to let him out of my sight, so I said, "You can come with us and see for yourself. Then after we've left with Peter, you can go in with guns a blazing."

*****

Hold on, Peter, I asked silently. We're coming.

I thought that to myself anxiously as I waited across the street from the building where the meeting was supposed to take place. Angel, Wesley, and Giles had met us there, as promised. All of them except Angel had bulletproof vests on now, and we were all waiting for Dawson to get off the phone. Buffy was keeping an eye on the Watcher's Society member, so my eyes were free to stare at the old warehouse. Half of the walls were burned black from last year's fire. No one had bothered repairing any of it, since nobody claimed ownership. I think the Mayor planned to clear out this entire block and build a strip mall or something evil, although in my opinion another strip mall would be evil since Buffy and Willow would force me to come with them and carry all of their shopping bags.

I glanced at my watch again. Ten minutes to go. I turned to the troops. "Okay, Dawson," I said. "Times up."

Dawson ended his phone conversation and announced, "I've got a covert ops team on the way. They should be here within thirty minutes. Keep 'em entertained until then, then we'll do the rest." He looked earnestly at all of us. "Good luck."

*****

We found Peter easily enough; he was in the middle of the floor, tied to a chair. A light hanging low from the ceiling lighted the space. Around him was darkness, but there didn't appear to be anyone near by.

"Everyone be careful," I told the others. "This feels like a trap." Everyone else agreed.

I took out my sword while the others watched the darkness, holding their own swords or crossbows. We didn't have guns, and I just hoped we could hold off the men that did with the protection that the vests gave my friends.

While the others took up positions around the chair, I ran over to Peter and quickly untied him by slicing through his ropes. Then I ran around the chair and looked down into Peter's eyes. "Peter? Are you all right?"

He didn't look so good. He'd obviously been tortured, and not all of the wounds were completely healed yet. I closed my eyes and clamped down on my anger before opening them again.

"Peter?" I asked him gently.

Peter opened his eyes, surprised. "Xander! What're ya doin' here? They'll kill you. They know about Immortals."

I nodded. "I know. I'm here to get you out of here." I helped him to his feet and he leaned against me, still in pain. I nodded at Buffy.

"Let's go," Buffy said.

As we headed for the door, the shadows moved, and several figures stepped out. All of them held guns. They had us surrounded.

One of the figures stepped out in front of his men. Unlike the others, he held a sword. "Alexander LaVelle Harris," Jerry Damon greeted me. The expression on his face was one of triumph mixed with disgust and hatred.

"Jerry Damon, I presume," I said. I felt my hatred rise to the surface, and I was having trouble restraining myself from dropping my teacher and running blindly at him. The idea may lead me to being filled with bullet holes, but it was tempting.

"Put your weapons down," Peter told us.

Everyone hesitated. "We'd better do it, guys," Buffy said, easing her crossbow onto the ground. She stood back up with her hands raised. Slowly, everyone else behind me did the same, leaving me with my arm wrapped around Peter to support him.

Damon gave a satisfied smile as he observed our group. "This is great, Harris. Not only do you deliver yourself but you bring your little Scooby Gang with you." He looked at them. "The Witch, lycanthrope, the...Watchers," there was humor in his voice when he said that last word, "even your ex-girlfriend."

A shiver ran down my back. I still wasn't used to a total stranger knowing so much about me. It was unsettling.

"Let us go," I told him.

"Why?" Peter asked, stepping up to me. His face got within inches of me, and I resisted the urge to head butt it. "I want you dead, Harris. You killed Mary. All of your friends should die as well, since they didn't even try to stop you from committing a murder right underneath their noses, even though they claim to be on the good side."

My anger flared. "If you didn't want her to die, you shouldn't have shown her where to find me in the first place!"

Rage appeared on his face and his fist swung out, solidly connecting with my check. I fell, bringing Peter with me. We landed in a pile of tangled limbs.

Suddenly, I felt someone grab my leg. One of Damon's guys dragged me out from under my mentor and forced me onto my knees. I pushed at him with my elbow, catching him in the side. Damon's man let go of my arm and moved away. I stood up quickly, but two more of Damon's men grabbed onto my arms, forcing me to stay put no matter how hard I struggled.

"Get him on his knees!" Damon ordered.

They pushed down hard, forcing me to fall onto my knees. Behind me, I heard Buffy shout, "Get your hands off of him!" followed by Giles', "Leave him alone!" along with several other cries among my friends.

I couldn't see them, because all of them were behind me. All I could do was watch as Damon approached, holding the blade up high, ready to severe my neck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another one of Damon's men hold up his gun, pointing it at one of my friends behind me. "No!" I shouted, renewing my struggles.

Suddenly, the doors on all sides of the warehouse crashed open. Several men ran through before ducking behind cover. They all fired at Damon's men, and they fired back. One of the men holding me down got hit dead center in the chest, and his corpse was knocked to the ground by the bullet's force. I quickly got the other one to let go of me. He forgot about me and ran over to help Damon and the others, who were desperately trying to get out of the clearing and into cover.

I turned to observe my friends. All of them were all right. Angel now had Peter's hand draped across his shoulders. "Xander, all you all right?" Giles asked.

I nodded. "We need to get out of here." I pointed at a cleared doorway in the back. "There."

We headed toward it as fast as we could. Dawson appeared just outside the doorway. He waved us on. "Come on, come on!"

We didn't need to be told twice. We raced through the door and into the back alley, then hurried toward the corner of the building, where we would then turn left onto the side alley then head for our cars.

As we turned the corner, I heard an angry shout behind me, "Harris!"

The others had already turned the corner. I was the only one who was still in the alley. I turned around to see Damon standing in the doorway we'd just left through. He had his gun trained at me. He fired it.

I felt the bullets hit me at the same time I hit the ground, striking the concrete hard. Pain flared from my chest, and I let out a loud scream.

I clutched my chest with my hands, trying to stop the bleeding even though I knew it was futile. Nevertheless, I strained to sit up, watching Damon. He was walking toward me, putting away the gun and raising the sword.

I felt myself loose consciousness. This is it, I told myself. You won't be waking up this time.

When I opened my eyes again, he was standing over me. A grin crossed his face as he raised the blade above his head.

A gun went off, and two bullets slammed into Damon's chest. Shocked, the man dropped the sword and stared down at his bleeding chest. He met my gaze before sliding to the ground, dead.

Losing the strength to sit up, I fell back against the concrete ground before giving in to the darkness.