Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, The WB, UPN, Mutant Enemy, Inc. and any one else with a legal binding claim to the shows and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

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SUNNYDALE, CA

"It's going to be dawn soon."

Spike looked up into Xander's tired face in surprise. Since the rescue and the long wait at the hospital, not many words had been spoken by any of them that wasn't directly related to something medical. Anya had been treated for some minor lacerations and released; Giles had waved off the doctor's attempts to make him stay overnight for observation and she had gone with him to take Dawn home, promising to keep an eye on the stubborn Watcher and make sure he didn't lapse into a coma. Tara's arm had been set, and her other injuries attended to. She was also free to leave, but she wasn't going anywhere. She was curled up on one of the hard chairs, meditating as they awaited word about Willow. Xander had been doing something similar, that might have been praying if he thought he even did that anymore. He'd only just realized that Spike had never left.

Willow was in trouble, and Xander felt completely helpless. After hours in surgery, the doctors had frankly told them that they had no idea why she was even still alive. However, if they were successful at repairing most of the damage, they believed she would recover...if she woke up from the coma. Xander had shivered with déjà vu when he heard that. For a few moments it was as if someone had turned back the clock and they were back at Sunnydale High and Giles had been kidnapped and Kendra murdered...he'd felt a warm hand slip into his and looked into Anya's warm brown eyes and everything had settled back with a thud into the new reality. Still, the simple fact was that Willow might not make it. That knowledge was weighing heavily on all of them. Even Spike, Xander had realized looking at him now. The vampire regarded him hollowly.

"No word from those bloody docs, right?" he asked. Xander shook his head gravely. "Guess I'll be shoving off then. You'll let me know if...when she wakes up." Spike said, standing and stretching. Xander shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.

"Spike, I didn't...I never...I wanted to say thank you. You...you saved Anya's life tonight. And mine. Probably everyone else's too." As uncomfortable as it made Xander to say the words, it made Spike more ill at ease to hear the appreciation. He looked down and shrugged, looking like a recalcitrant teenager.

"Didn't do it for you. Just didn't like those chaps, is all," he said. Xander's lips pursed into a thin line as he turned away.

"Fine. Never mind." Xander stalked away and Spike sighed, calling out to stop him.

"Oh, bloody hell. You're welcome, alright? Let's not get all fluffy."

"Really not a problem," Xander said seriously as he came back to the vampire. The two regarded each other awkwardly, uncertain how to proceed.

"So we don't have to hug?" Spike asked, a small smile playing on his lips at Xander's double take.

"What? No! No, why would you..." Xander stammered in a high-pitched voice before getting himself under control. "I mean, I'm gonna go check on Willow. You, begone. Sunrise, remember?"

"Gone. You'll tell the witches I'm wishing...you know what I mean." The last was mumbled almost in embarassment, but Xander just nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. I think I do."

The vampire and the carpenter turned and headed in different directions, but both were struck by the realization that for the first time they were actually agreed on their course.

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DREAMING PLANES, LOCATION UNKNOWN

"What can we do?" Buffy demanded, her face set in determination. It was the face of a Slayer who had faced multiple apocalypses and emerged victorious. It was the most beautiful, terrifying sight Aldric had ever beheld, and he felt like he should fall to his knees in worship. After a moment, however, she slumped slightly, her face changing; now she just looked like a beautiful young woman who was worried about her friend.

"I'm not sure we can do anything."

"But...but Willow's a witch. She's very powerful. That's gotta count for something, right?"

"I really can't say," Aldric admitted. Buffy whirled on him angrily.

"Well you'd better say something. Give me something I can do to help her!" Anguished, Buffy looked back at Willow, seeming so serene inside her green bubble. "I can't just sit here and watch her die."

"Buffy, I..." Aldric was taken aback when the Slayer started to cry. Weeping women were never his strong suit. He found himself wishing he had one of his dragon carvings, the ones he had given to women under his protection. Logically he knew that Buffy needed no protection, but the impulse was still there.

"Is this what it was like for them? My friends? My sister? When I died? Did they feel this helpless?" Buffy sobbed. Aldric replied without thinking.

"I felt that way. And I didn't even know you." The two stared at each other, and it was hard to tell which was more surprised.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded.

"This is a long story. You see, I was primarily responsible for the translations of texts, and I found this prophecy..."

Aldric continued on to tell Buffy the entire story. How he had brought the contraprophecy to Lydia when the Council had expressed no interest in it. How his sister had believed that the Dark Knight in the prophecy was William the Bloody, and how she had proceeded to Sunnydale to enlist his aid and ended up bonded to him. How Spike in turn had gone to each of her friends in turn and performed the ritual that would protect them from the foretold harm, even Angel. How Spike had somehow possessed Lydia for a brief period of time and saved her life from Quentin Travers' nephew Alan.

"And then, after everything, you still died...they made me watch them as they performed the ritual...I knew you were going to die and there was nothing I could do to help you."

"I...I don't know what to say," Buffy said. Without knowing why she reached out and took the young man's hand. Aldric was unable to respond at first, deep emotion working across his face as he mentally relived those past horrors.

"There's nothing to say," Aldric said finally. "I found you here, and I can help you now. Your friend is still alive, and that means you can reach her, talk to her...give her a reason to live, Buffy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Help her by letting her help you," Aldric said, his tone getting excited. "You said she was a witch. If she knew you were trapped here, what would she do?"

"Try to find a spell to free me," Buffy said. "And you think she'd pull out of a coma to do that?"

"You know her better than I," Aldric said. "What do you think?"

Buffy thought for a moment before she looked at him, her eyes glittering in determination.

"What do I do?"

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DESTINY, MAINE

Lydia felt something close to despair. She had come to see her friends to see if they could possibly help her locate the Dark Council. Now she was certain that there was more than a coincidental connection between her plight and their own.

"My father...is part of a faction that has secretly split from the Council," she admitted. "They call themselves the Concillium Nocens, the Dark Council. They've turned their backs on everything that the Council has ever stood for, sold out all of humanity for their own greed. They're dedicated to evil...trying to corrupt the Slayer. Alan Travers was a part of it."

"Lord, Alan Travers. I haven't heard that name in years," Trish said. "You and he...but you're saying he was evil."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. He tried to kill me," Lydia admitted, feeling a blush of embarrassment creep across her face. She was ashamed she hadn't caught on to Alan's treachery sooner.

"Dear God, Lydia! What did you do?" Trish exclaimed, appalled.

"She killed him instead," her husband answered. Lydia turned to face him in shock.

"How did you know that?" she demanded. Koy said nothing, but Tricia grabbed hold of his hand, her eyes beseeching him.

"Oh, please, Koy. She's going to know soon enough, and I refuse to keep another thing from her." Lydia was struck by the emphasis her friend had put on the word 'another', but filed it away to question later. Tricia continued eagerly, "Koy can see things...the future, sometimes the past...he's-"

"Clairvoyant," Lydia murmured speculatively. Koy nodded shortly.

"All Videclaru are...well, at least the males. Speaking of which, my sister's coming." Trish looked at her husband sharply, clearly shaken for a moment. He nodded reassuringly at her, and she relaxed a bit, but Lydia found her behavior inexplicable. A moment later a petite attractive brunette woman with sharp features entered the room, an even shorter man with a friendly moon face trailing behind. In an abrupt change of mood, Trish leaned conspiratorially over to Lydia like they were still school chums.

"I hate when he does that," she said in a stage whisper. "A girl can't get away with anything."

"Tampa, this is Trish's friend Lydia," Koy started the introductions. His sister eyed Lydia with cool suspicion, but shook the offered hand gingerly. "Lydia, my sister Tampa. And her husband, Bert Greenwood." The affable, sloppily dressed man was the opposite of his chilly, well-manicured wife. Bert shook Lydia's hand with such enthusiasm she thought it might come off.

"It's wonderful to meet a friend of Lydia's," he gushed. "We don't actually meet many people here, and yet, here you are, and it's just...so very wonderful!"

"Bert," Tampa snapped, and he looked at his wife in confusion while releasing Lydia's hand. Trish and Koy both looked amused, and Lydia guessed this was a long-standing pattern of behavior. Tampa glared at Lydia haughtily.

"Why have you come here? My brother said you were trouble," she snapped. Lydia raised an eyebrow at Koy, noticing that Tricia did as well.

"You had a vision that Lydia was coming? And you didn't tell me?" Trish inquired sharply. Koy looked at her for a few seconds, then locked eyes with Lydia.

"I'd like to speak to Lydia alone, please," Koy said quietly. Tricia stood, her eyes flashing angrily.

"I most certainly do mind, you're not going to interrogate-"

"It's quite alright, Trish. I think it's best that Koy and I get a few things straight between us," Lydia murmured, never breaking eye contact with her friend's husband. She could see in them something that made her shiver. Fear. Fear that she knew instinctively was of her, but for the life of her she couldn't sort out why.

"Leave them, Trish. You've got someone waiting on you, you know," Tampa said cryptically. Trish stood between Lydia and Koy for another long moment, then stalked off angrily, Tampa and Bert trailing behind. Bert glanced over his shoulder nervously several times as he was stepping out the door.

"Let's have it then, Koy. You're clairvoyant and you're trying to get rid of me...I don't for a moment believe those two things are not related. But I don't have the first idea why."

"I know," he said, frowning. "That's the part I don't understand at all. I thought I would be able to read it on you, to find out why you...but you don't know about any of it. I just don't know how that can be possible.

"What exactly did you see about me?" At Koy's silence, Lydia pleaded, "You don't understand, I don't understand...I think if we share what we know, we might be able to sort this out. I believe we have a mutual enemy, Koy. Pooling our knowledge together is our best chance."

"I saw you, standing here...like you are now. Then Trish...I saw her die. Everyone died but you..." Koy opened his mouth then hesitated, and Lydia felt like screaming. As upset as she was by that revelation, she could tell he was holding something important back. And now that she understood that her friend's life, that all of these people's lives were at stake, the desperation to know everything made her want to shake him.

"That's not all of it, is it? Please, Koy! Just tell me."

"I saw you leaving with...I can't. I can't let it happen, Lydia. You can't know...I'm sorry." Lydia covered her eyes as he left the room, lost in frustration and despair. And fighting the rage that was building slowly within.

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ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS, LOS ANGELES, CA

"Is there something I can do?" Fred asked nervously. Angel looked up at her and smiled. The physicist had come a long way since her rescue from Pylea. Helping her recover from the trauma of having been a slave for so long had helped him get through his own mourning of Buffy. At first he had been worried about the crush she clearly had had on him, but they had moved past that part of their relationship and were now just friends; in fact she had confessed to him her crush on Gunn. It was just nice to be around someone who wasn't constantly reminding him he used to be evil and was potentially evil again.

"I don't think so. Wesley's still got a few contacts in the Council, I'm sure they'll tell him-"

"Squat," Wesley finished sourly as the entered the room. "Angel, I'm worried. Something very wrong seems to be going on with the Council."

"What do you mean?"

"My old school chums seem to be rather reluctant to talk...apparently Alan Travers was killed under mysterious circumstances." At Fred and Angel's blank looks, he continued, "Alan was Quentin Travers' nephew. Quentin acts as the operational head for the Council, nothing happens without his consent."

"He's the one that was behind that stupid test that almost got Buffy killed," Angel growled. Wesley blinked guiltily.

"The Cruciamentem. Yes," he said vaguely, unable to look at Angel. Fred placed a soft hand on his arm.

"That's sad about his nephew," she said sympathetically.

"Oh. Yes," Wesley said, surprised a bit by that thought; it hadn't exactly occurred to him. He'd never really liked Alan Travers much, finding him pretty much an arrogant bastard, but he supposed it was unhappy for someone. Especially... "Apparently the death has hit Quentin rather hard. No one would come right out and say it directly, but there seems to be some feeling that he doesn't exactly have a clear fix on what's happening now."

"What about Faith?" Angel asked, a touch impatient.

"That's the curious thing," Wesley said. "Quentin signed off on orders for Faith to be brought back to London and authorized a new Watcher. It is this Hortensia Blackman, just as Faith said..."

"But?" Angel and Fred said simultaneously.

"But there's no record of the woman in the active Watcher databanks. I dug deeper and found mention of her in the Black Ops files. The woman's an assassin."

A shriek of pain from the other room brought them all running. Cordelia writhed in pain, half out of her chair. Angel ran to hold her, secretly despairing that she had to go through such horrendously painful episodes for him. After a moment the painful vision subsided and she looked up at him shakily.

"Angel...you've got to go now. Faith's in trouble," she croaked. Angel shared a meaningful look with Wesley and Fred.

"Take care of Cordy," he growled, turning at a run.

"Angel, we can help..." Fred trailed off. The vampire was gone.

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CONCILLIUM NOCENS, LOCATION UNKNOWN

"You wanted to see me?"

Geoffrey looked up and smiled at the scornful teen. Sharonda was so vitriolic, cruel, spiteful...he felt closer to her than he ever had to his own dutiful daughter.

"Indeed, child. How is your training progressing?"

"Fine, except I'm not the Slayer, am I?"

"That will be taken care of soon. I was referring to the other training that Mr. Blackman was undertaking with you, however." At that Sharonda gave him an enthusiastic, malevolent grin.

"Oh, yeah," she said, raising her hand and balancing a fireball on her fingertips, pretending to admire the blue flickering flames. "That's going rather well."

"Excellent," Geoffrey purred. "I am most pleased. I have a surprise for you, child. One I think you're going to like very much."

Sharonda raised her eyebrows questioningly, the fireball vanishing from her hand. When she learned what Geoffrey had planned, she clapped her hands delightedly.

"When do I leave?" she asked excitedly.

"Luther will send you there momentarily," he said, smiling back at her. "In a few short hours, you will have all your Slayer powers, my child." Sharonda's response made him swell with pride.

"Cool. As long as I get to kill." Turning her back to Geoffrey, she added silently, *and especially as long as I get to kill whoever killed Alan.*

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