Disclaimer: I think you know they're not mine by now! If not, check out an earlier chapter for the legal disclaimer.

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BETWEEN LOS ANGELES AND SUNNYDALE...

Sharonda Martin and Hortensia Blackman watched in stunned silence as the car went off the road and vanished. After a moment Sharonda shrugged.

"Guess it won't be long now," the stocky Australian girl observed. Her companion's face was impassive but troubled as she eyed the tire marks speculatively.

"It would seem like they would not survive," Hortensia hedged.

"But you think they did?" the would-be Slayer asked sharply. Hortensia shrugged.

"I wouldn't have thought they would manage to escape from the prison. Or evade the roadblocks for this long. But Angelus has always been a bothersome creature. And we should have heard a crash by now."

The two followed the skid marks to the edge and looked down. There was no sign of the car at all, it had vanished completely as if it had never been there.

"Damn," Sharonda sighed. "Magick?"

"I'm...not certain," Hortensia said, frowning. "It's not a glamour or an illusion, nothing I can counter...but I have no better explanation. It doesn't matter." Sharonda's hands balled into fists as she turned on her trainer hotly.

"What do you mean? We need to kill that girl."

Hortensia's mouth curled into a thin contemptuous line.

"And we shall. Let them play their little hiding game. We'll simply meet them where we know they're heading."

"The Hellmouth?" Sharonda smiled a cold and feral grin. "Cool."

*********

"Dammit Angel, what are we gonna do? And where the hell are we?" Faith whispered. After the car had seemingly gone over the cliff, everything had gone dark. For a heart-stopping moment she'd thought that was it, but the harsh sound of her own rapid breathing had convinced her otherwise. They had been sitting in the dark for about five minutes, with Angel silencing all her other questions. Then she'd heard the voices, coming from above, and listened with a sinking heart. The only thing she could see was Angel's eyes, glowing golden slits that told her he had his vampire face on. For some reason that scared her, and Faith had had enough of being scared. She'd had enough, period.

"Hiding place Lorne told me about...he has some friends who occasionally need not to be found. Okay, they've gone."

"Swell. What now?" Faith crossed her arms across her chest sullenly, knowing he could see well enough to note the gesture.

"Try to call Wesley again?" Angel hadn't meant it to be a question, but it came out that way when he realized why she hadn't done that already.

"I told you, Angel. If you don't charge the phone, it stops working. And it doesn't start working again just cause you ask nice."

"You're right," Angel sighed. "I hate that thing."

"I'm thinking it's not very fond of you either," Faith said with a smirk, waving the battered phone. Angel started the engine and inched forward, exiting the hidden cave and driving back up onto the road.

"We'll have to find a payphone." The vampire picked up speed once they were back on the road. "We've got to warn everyone our friends will probably get to Sunnydale before us."

"Why the hell are we still going to Sunnydale? They know that's where we're going."

"Yeah, they sure do," Angel conceded.

"So...shouldn't we go somewhere else?" his companion prompted. The vampire shrugged, wincing. His wounds were healing fast, but he was still not quite up to par.

"Normally I'd agree, but the truth is we can't run forever. And I don't want to. I want to get these guys, find out who sent them and take care of their bosses to. It's the only way you'll ever be safe from them. And the best place to do that is someplace we know and they don't. Where we have back up and they have-"

"The Hellmouth and tons of evil things," Faith said flatly. Angel spared her a look, then concentrated on the road once more, thanking God he'd finally ponied up for the super dark window tinting.

"You forget the main thing we've got that they don't."

"I give. What?" He gave her a sidelong glance and a slow grin.

"The Slayer."

*********

CONCILLIUM NOCENS, LOCATION UNKNOWN

"It's done. They're all dead, Koy, his wife, my wife, the kid, some folks from the town...and your daughter, of course."

Geoffrey grimaced at the traitor he had planted in the Lorenzo's hiding place in disgust. The man was slovenly, weak and pathetic, and in the end he hadn't really even served his purpose. Even this audience, the sole purpose of which was to kill Bert Greenwood, was a waste of a few perfectly good minutes of his day.

"Is it really?" he asked noncommittally. The man faltered, his eyes shifting nervously.

"Yes, they're all dead. No one could have survived-"

"But someone did," Geoffrey cut him off. "Two someones, in fact. One of whom was my daughter."

"Oh," he hesitated, then brightened. "Well, she was always kind of a bonus kill, right? That really shouldn't count against me."

"It troubles me that she has not been captured. It troubles me that I cannot locate her now."

"And I really don't want you to be troubled, boss. But you'll get her," his sycophantic informer said confidently. "I mean, you've got all the Dark Council mojo going, right?"

"Yes. You're right, of course...my daughter is of little consequence." Geoffrey smiled thinly as the man sagged with relief. "I want you to know that you will not be killed for that failure."

"Right, great, so, no big deal."

"You will be killed because the boy is also alive and in her care. That failure could cost us everything!"

"What? Wait! No! I can help you!"

"I think not."

"The boy...he trusts me! I'm his Uncle Bert! Please, give me another chance. I promise you, they'll be dead. They'll both be dead today or my name's not Bertrand Melville Greenwood."

Geoffrey rolled his eyes at the man's melodramatics, then sighed. Perhaps he was right...and if not, his daughter might as well take care of this one for him. Really, killing such a wretched oaf was beneath him.

"Very well. One more chance. Do not fail again."

"I won't. I won't. I swear to...I won't."

*********

NEW YORK CITY

The small dragon statue sat untouched on the shop counter as Xerk'Ykl sized up his unusual visitors. The woman, no-nonsense and dangerous in her black leather pants and jacket, was quite striking, but what had really floored him was the whiff of power about her, some strangeness in her aura suggesting something dark had been there once and hadn't completely left. The boy, on the other hand...Xerk'Ykl knew a number of people who would pay handsomely for the boy. The woman would be no match for even one of his minions. And he could finally get out of this dirty business, find himself a nice comfortable dimension and take it easy. Xerk'Ykl's eyes glazed over with the thought, though his visitors would not have noticed. His yellow and white pupil-less eyes (one of his human girlfriends had said they looked like they were filled with scrambled eggs) were the only visible feature that marked him as non-human, so he kept dark sunglasses on at all times. Plus he thought they made him look cool.

The dragon changed everything. Xerk'Ykl made it a point to never be indebted to another; it was bad business, and eventually it led to killing. Unlike most of his kind, Xerk'Ykl didn't like to kill. Killing meant fewer customers, and fewer customers were bad for business. But sometimes no matter how hard you avoided something, life gave it to you anyway. There was one being in any of the Realms that Xerk'Ykl would feel compelled to either help or maybe to kill. The carving was his calling card, not to be denied. The demon sighed, bidding bittersweet farewell to his visions of fawning slave-girls and relaxing by the blood seas, knowing that he was going to choose the former choice. The woman, the boy...he knew that killing them would be his own death. Of course, he wasn't quite sure what keeping them alive was going to do to him either.

"What do you want?"

"You recognize it?" she asked coolly. Xerk'Ykl snorted.

"I recognize it. How is that idiot brother of yours? Still sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong?" the demon grumbled. The woman's eyebrow arched.

"Still saving lives, you mean?"

"You say tomato, doll." Xerk'Ykl retorted with exaggerated cool, though in truth he was growing increasingly nervous. As tough as Aldric's kid sis seemed, it was the boy’s steady stare that was unnerving him. Seeming to sense his discomfort she smiled down at the boy, ruffling his hair affectionately before returning her cool stare to their demon host.

"I need you to arrange a transport."

Xerk'Ykl almost sagged with relief. He had thought this was going to be something hard. He could arrange a dimensional trans in his sleep.

"You too heading out of this dimension, eh? Good idea. A kid like that, world of trouble here-"

"We don't intend to leave this realm," Lydia cut him off. "Just...we need to go to California. Quickly and quietly."

Xerk'Ykl nodded, though on some level he was deeply insulted. He hadn't conquered the Plentox of Qqql'rrr and stolen their secrets of the resonance of dimensional walls to become a travel agent. Domestic travel at that.

Plus he sensed that California wasn't far enough away for these two. He shrugged, keeping those thoughts to himself.

"A local job. Sure. Waste of my talents, but why not? Where to?"

"Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale? The Hellmouth? You're as mad as your brother!" Xerk'Ykl exclaimed, though he wasn't really surprised. Everyone who was anyone felt the need to hit the Hellmouth eventually.

"Quite possibly," Lydia agreed dryly, then continued, "I also need you to center us on a particular person. A man I need to find immediately. Can you do that?"

"If it's a man you want-" the demon started with a leer that was totally wasted on her behind the glasses.

"Can you do it?" she snapped.

"Sweetheart, I can get you so close to your man, you'll practically show up inside him." Off her look, he added hastily, "Or I could just listen and let you tell me what you want to do and do that."

Lydia smiled thinly, and Xerk'Ykl began to mentally formulate his own travel plans. This boy on the Hellmouth was gonna be something else. New York definitely wasn't far enough away to clear the fallout.

*********

DREAMING PLANES

"What?" Spike gaped at the Slayer in disbelief, temporarily suspecting that this was a dream after all.

"Lydia Stokes-Martin. She's a Watcher. I know you know her."

"I know her...I mean, I knew her...s'not like we're keepin' in touch, luv. And just what do you want me to do when I find her? Give her your regards from the Great Beyond?"

"Not exactly. Her brother is kinda here with me."

"What?" Spike asked suspiciously. "What's he on about then?"

"Please, he's a Watcher. Just like Giles. Only blonder and cuter...but in case you hadn't noticed I'm kinda dead and ghosty...it doesn't exactly lend itself to dating."

"You want to date this wanker?" Spike asked dangerously. Buffy shook her head, irritated.

"We are getting way off topic, and I don't know how much time we've got. Listen, you've got to get to Lydia and tell her that Aldric is still alive, that he's here and he's trying to-"

//WHACK//

The blow knocked Spike not only awake, but nearly out of bed, and he grabbed for his unknown assailant, struggling with his attacker and his own bedclothes blindly until he recognized the voice.

"Whoa, hey! Take it easy, guy. Geez, you're hard to wake up!" Xander said, pulling away from Spike with a funny look. Spike stopped struggling and glared, still shaken by his abrupt shift in reality, not to mention his encounter with the Slayer.

"Harris. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Spike asked, and was taken aback when the dark-haired man colored a bit.

"Nothing! Well, no, not nothing. I've been trying for ten minutes to wake you from what was obviously a very involved dream. We got trouble coming. It's Angel. And also maybe Willow. She's awake, says she thinks she saw-"

"Buffy," Spike finished wearily. "She saw Buffy. And the Slayer needs our help."

*********

SUNNYDALE, CA

Giles hung up the bedside phone, his eyes troubled. Willow's even breathing told him she had finally fallen asleep, so he silently gestured for Tara to join him in the corridor.

"That was Anya," he said softly. "Xander received a call from Wesley...oh dear, you've never met Wesley, have you?"

"I've heard Willow talk about him. He was Buffy's Watcher? After you were...after you." Tara blushed a bit guiltily, and Giles gave her a gentle smile.

"Yes, quite. I'm afraid he wasn't much of a Watcher, but he is a good man, and he called with some rather...disturbing...news. I'm afraid we've got more than a bit of trouble on its way to us, origins unknown. But the Council must be involved on some level."

"The W-Watcher's Council? I thought they were the...kind of good guys."

"Yes...I fear something there may be something rather untoward going on. My inquiries into the whereabouts of Aldric Stokes-Martin have also brought disturbing news. It seems the man is missing and wanted for murder of one of his fellows. As usual I didn't appear to get the memo," Giles added in a highly peeved tone.

"Oh, wow. He was the only one who could help us? With Buffy?"

"There are other mages, but I doubt they'd be very amenable. And none are as powerful as Stokes-Martin was."

"Will's gonna be disappointed."

"Yes...we must find a way to tell her. I must confess I'm very concerned about how Willow will handle this news, Tara. It's vital to her recovery that she not attempt any magicks right now. Her energies are still dangerously low."

"I know...I can see it in her aura," Tara agreed softly. "But you know how stubborn she can be."

"I do indeed. Especially when she believes that Buffy..." Giles trailed off, his eyes troubled.

"You don't think we can bring Buffy back," Tara realized. Giles shook his head.

"I think that if Willow is correct, if Buffy is trapped in some other dimension...we need to help her move on...but that doesn't necessarily mean...I mean, we don't have..."

"A body. Buffy's body, it's...there is no body."

"Yes," Giles confirmed, glad that she had said it. He still hated thinking about Buffy in those terms.

"Except...there's the Buffybot," Tara said absently, and he stared at her aghast. She colored and shook her head rapidly. "N-not that I'm suggesting...forget I said it...it's a machine, not a body...I-I didn't mean..."

"It's alright," Giles soothed her. "I know it looks like her...but Willow hasn't been able to get it to function at all since Glory..."

"Wrecked it," Tara finished softly.

"Glory wrecked many things," Giles snapped bitterly, then sighed. "I do apologize, Tara. I had thought I was through my more...maudlin period."

"Please don't be sorry. What Willow said, it was bound to bring up stuff."

Giles removed his glasses and pinched between his eyes, acting as if he had a headache, but Tara had seen the faint glimmer of the tears he was willing not to fall and knew the truth.

"It wasn't that," Giles said, his voice husky with emotion. "Well, not just that...it's Willow, that we almost..." Tara's eyes misted over, and she held up her hand.

"Don't. I can't..." she choked out, then turned her back to him as she composed herself. Giles sighed, feeling like an incredible heel for infecting her with his melancholy. Of course, intellectually he knew she had her own reasons for feeling this way, but it was in his nature to take the guilt on.

"Again, I do apologize," he said, feeling wholly inadequate. Tara's shoulders shook as she struggled with her own tears.

"I just...I don't know what I'd do, if something happened to-"

A panicked scream shattered the quiet of the hospital, and Tara staggered, her heart skipping a beat. She whirled back to face him in horror.

"Dear Lord," Giles cried, "was that...?

"Willow!" Tara finished, running back for her girlfriend's room.

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