Disclaimer: Oh, you know the drill by now...not mine!

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Lydia decided instantly that her best defensive move was to go on the offensive.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night, Alan? And how did you get in my flat?" His eyes widened in surprise at her hostile tone. He gave her a cold smile.

"I wanted to check on you, dearest. I knocked, when you didn't answer I got concerned, so I used a little spell to unlock the door. And I find you...having an odd conversation with..." He trailed off meaningfully.

"I don't want to play games with you, Alan. You know very well who I was talking to," Lydia snapped. This was a gamble, but she needed to know what he thought he’d heard and was hoping Alan would rise to the bait. He did not disappoint her.

"Yes, you're quite right. And how is your dear brother?" It took all of her acting skills not to show her relief. Instead she glared at her fiancee, pretending that he was right. *He knows nothing, but he thinks he knows everything. Let his ego do the work for you, pet.* It never occurred to Lydia to question why the thoughts in her own head sounded so much like the voice of the blonde vampire.

“Do you really care if I answer that?” Alan gave a short laugh.

“My, but you’ve gotten cheeky in my absence, dearest! And I must say that your ability to communicate telepathically with your brother comes as something of a shock. But you’re right, of course. I care not the tiniest bit how Aldric is, but I do care very much where he is and what he’s up to. Especially since the Santiago Codex is most likely with him.” Lydia turned her back to him and crossing her arms across her chest, went to the window. She saw no signs of any other Watchers on the street below, but that meant nothing. Not everyone was as clumsy as the unfortunately deceased Colin Bixby had been.

“I have no idea where my brother is.” Lydia felt him move across the room towards her. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, she had to fight the urge to shake him off. She concentrated on taking deep breaths. *When this is all over, I’ll make sure you never touch me again.*

“But you know what he’s doing. And you’re going to tell me, aren’t you, Lydia? As the man you’re to wed, I do believe that your first loyalty is to me.” When she shook her head, he whirled her around angrily.

“I don’t-”

“You’re the one who said no games, Lydia. I believe that your brother has turned against the Council, and is responsible for Colin Bixby’s murder. I heard you when I came in, something about ‘saving them.’ Has Aldric found a way to use the contraprophecy against the Council’s orders?”

Alan’s hands began squeezing tighter on her shoulders. Lydia was amazed at the wave of contempt that washed over her. *Right. Council orders that would never have been made if not for your influence. This is about your ambition, nothing more. She looked down and shook her head violently, acting scared and vulnerable. If Alan could have looked in her eyes at that moment, they would have told a very different story.

“No, Aldric wouldn’t...he isn’t...he would have told me!” Alan reached out and wrenched her chin upwards, forcing her gaze to meet his. He sneered at her.

“You’re lying to me, I heard you-”

“We were playing a game. We’ve been playing it since we were children. Aldric made up the rules, you try to save the princesses from a dragon. He wanted to cheer me up, I was so upset about Colin. It had nothing to do with any prophecies or contraprophecies or Slayers.” Lydia was herself amazed at the reasonably convincing lie and the tears she managed to accompany it. She had always been a horrible liar, and that fact alone might be enough to convince Alan. Already he looked like he was reconsidering his assumptions.

“A game. I see.” He looked uncertain, and Lydia went in for the figurative kill.

“Alan, you know I would never go against the Council’s orders, and I know that Aldric feels the same. But that‘s not the point. I would never go against you. You‘re going to be my husband. I love my brother, but I‘m totally devoted to you.” She could tell by the release of tension in his shoulders that he believed her completely. *I’ve never been anything but supportive and compliant to his will, why wouldn’t he believe me? He still thinks he can manipulate me, the stupid wanker.*

“Of course you are, as I am to you, my dear. And the game you describe does sound just like Aldric. Always wanting to play the white knight...or perhaps the Dark.” That last aside told Lydia that while he now was sure she had no knowledge of it, Alan still believed that Aldric was using the contraprophecy in some way. She said a quick prayer that her brother was in a safe place and that he would stay there until this was all over.

“You know my brother,” she replied noncommittally.

“This was not the visit I anticipated having with you. I wanted to make sure that that you were handling this business with Bixby all right.” She shuddered, and this time it wasn’t for dramatic effect. That Aldric was so certain she had murdered a man was still weighing heavily upon her.

“It’s so horrible. His family...they must be devastated. And to think that someone in the Council...” Alan put his arms around her, and she forced herself to relax into the embrace.

“Shhh, I’m sorry I even mentioned such an unpleasant matter. I really wanted to talk to you about a much happier affair.”

“What?”

“Our wedding. I think it’s time that we set a date for the nuptials, don’t you?” Lydia almost moaned in dismay. This was the last subject she wanted to discuss now. He continued without waiting for a response. “I’ve spoken with your father and we’re in agreement. We should be wed before year‘s end.” A slow smile crossed Lydia’s face, and if he could have seen it at that moment Alan might have been frightened. It was an assassin‘s smile. But the expression he saw as they broke from their embrace was simply bright and joyful.

“Oh, Alan, it’s brilliant! You’ve made me so happy. But there’s so much to plan and to do! If we’re to be wed this year, it will have to be November, perhaps even December.” Alan nodded in satisfaction. The details of the wedding had no interest for him, as long as she was willing to go along with him.

“A holiday wedding then. It sounds very...festive. We’ll firm up the arrangements tomorrow, right now I want you to get some rest. You look totally done in.”

“Yes, you’re right, I’m very tired.” The goodnight kiss he gave her was almost chaste. After she had seen him out, she set wards on the apartment as her brother had taught her. *Aldric, wherever you are, stay there. Alan mustn’t find you until we’ve finished this mission.*

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Aldric’s safe haven was the home of a friend that not even his sister knew about. As much as he relished the role of the black sheep within his family, he feared what they would do if they knew of his association with Janice. He wasn’t sure which they would find more scandalous: her profession as an exotic dancer or that her father had been a Bracken demon. Janice could be very calculating and would do almost anything for money, but she was also good-hearted and unfailingly loyal to her friends, of which Aldric had been for years. His relationship with her was flirtatious but platonic, although he had to admit to himself that he sometimes wished it might be more. When he fled the Watcher’s Council, she was the first person he’d thought of, and the only person he knew would let him in without asking questions. Janice had made him quite comfortable before she’d left for work.

Unsettled after his astral-projection visit with Lydia, Aldric had absently decided to look through the Codex again. *Maybe there‘s some mention in here about my sister and her dilemma that I‘ve missed. Prophecies are tricky businesses after all, and even one‘s we think we have dead to rights can sometimes yield new secrets with a fresh look.*

A few hours later, he rubbed his eyes wearily. *There’s nothing, it’s all just as I remember it, no mention of Lydia at all, only the Dark Knight and the Followers of the Slayer, nothing...* His attention was suddenly drawn to one passage.

“Wait, this isn’t right...how could I have missed that? My God, that changes...Lydia, I’ve got to warn her!” A soft noise behind him warned him that he was no longer alone. He never even had a chance to turn before a blow to the head rendered him unconscious.

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Spike watched from the shadows as Xander put the finishing touches on the window repair. Part of him was still shocked that he was even here. He had packed a bag and a box for his even more unbelievable upcoming excursion to Los Angeles. *The things I do for you Buffy, not that you know or care...* He had hoped to avoid seeing the Slayer again until his task was done, it was just too hard, but discovered upon arriving at the Commons that Buffy had accompanied Xander to his task this evening. She had gone to make a quick patrol on campus a few minutes ago. Once he was certain that she wouldn’t be returning soon, he crept up slowly until he was standing behind the boy. Surprise was an understatement for what he felt when Xander suddenly whirled, holding a stake to Spike’s chest.

“Spike. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t strike a blow for sanity here.” Spike raised his arms in surrender as he shrugged in grudging admiration.

“I’m really impressed. Heard me coming, had a lovely stake all ready for me. Are you that good or am I losing my touch?” This time Xander shrugged, but the wood in his hand remained pointed steadily at the vampire’s heart.

“Benefits of being a carpenter, plenty of wood around when you need to do some dusting, and the little shavings tend to crunch under foot. You went crunch. And flattery isn’t an answer to my question.”

“I have information. That is very important, for the Slayer. I’m here to tell you because I’m supposed to be leaving the Slayer alone, and I am. See? I can play nice, how about you?” Xander reluctantly removed his stake from its position over Spike’s chest, but kept his arm half-raised, ready to strike.

“What information? And let me warn you, you sorry excuse for a bloodsucker, this had better be really, really good, because I don’t mind fixing this window twice tonight if it means I have the pleasure of tossing you through it myself.” Spike put his arms down slowly and reached into his pocket with exaggerated care. He withdrew the Stone of Mnemosyne and held it aloft by the chain.

“Ever seen one of these before, champ? Look close.” Xander moved in, curious despite himself.

“What is it?”

“You Will Forget.” Spike placed the sixth talisman on his forehead and put his arms around Xander. He gathered himself for the ritual, feeling Lydia’s presence join with his once more. He took a deep, unneeded breath, and began the incantation:

“I beseech you, Amagandar

Protect this innocent soul

From the curse that belongs to another

Remove the affliction

Restore the life line

I beseech you, Amagandar

Let not this friend be taken

This plea I make with sincere heart

By my words, let it be true.”

Spike once again closed his eyes and added his own thoughts. *It’s no secret I don’t like you. You’re nothing more to me than Buffy’s little lap dog. But you’ve got guts, and you take care of Buffy. She needs you.* This time Spike felt like he could actually feel the spell beginning to work before the now familiar scent wafted through the air. He suddenly stiffened as he heard a gasp behind him.

“Xander! I don’t believe this! Get away from him!” He recognized Anya’s voice and groaned. A second voice made his heart sink even further.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Spike let go of Xander and turned to meet Buffy’s cold gaze. He had no idea how he was going to explain this one.