MeiyoTeaser

Story by Robert Kidman and Gelfling21Written by Robert Kidman and Gelfling21 (with additional writing by Dan

Joslyn)Directed by Robert Kidman, Gelfling21 and CN Winters

Produced by CN Winters and Susan CarrEdited by DragonWriter17

Sounds by CSRArt Direction and Art by Robert Kidman

 Fade In:Int.Watchers Council – Cafeteria – Evening

"…oh come on…" Grace sighed as she sat in front of her laptop at one of the tables in the nearly empty cafeteria. Her eyes narrowed as she clicked the mouse button once again. "Sod it!"

"Burning the candle at both ends?" Jackson asked as he took a seat opposite Grace.

"Yeah, I hear Ro’s a real a slave driver," Niven said, slumping into the seat next to Jackson.

Before Grace could defend or reply, Denise spoke up as she came into view. "She’s not as bad as everyone makes her out to be." Denise pulled up a chair and sat next to Niven. "She’s just…focused and dedicated. You know, the stereotypical watcher type—except for Jackson, who’s breaking the mold and…" She cast a glance to Grace who returned her stare. "... you." She grinned.

With brows arched and a slightly deadpanned expression, Grace said, "Why thank you. And by further breaking the mold, I’m not doing work." She turned her laptop so that the screen faced them. "I’m playing solitaire."

"Oh …" Denise both started and finished.

"I’m not ‘all work and no play,’ ya know," Grace added.

Niven batted away her comment. "’Course you’re not. You’re Gracey, the fun time girl. Fun’s had by all when you’re around."

Grace didn’t respond.

"So you play? Real cards, I mean. Not on your laptop?" Jackson asked.

"Ah, I see. As if scripted by some higher power, we’ve inadvertently stumbled upon the reason why you three are harassing me while I’m trying to deal a black queen. So let me get this straight, you’re asking me now after I’ve been here like five months if I want to play cards with you guys?" Grace said tonelessly. "I’m reading it as you’re not asking me to play with you guys, so much as you’re just trying to make numbers up since Hope did a runner?"

"Kinda, yeah," Niven put it bluntly.

Grace snorted and shook her head, looking actually slightly hurt through her small sarcastic smile.

"Ignore him. We were gonna ask you whether you’d like to play with us ’cause you seem outsidey," Jackson added, "and we’d like to get to know you better…" Grace put her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyes mockingly. "…and because we need another person to play. But not that we’re coming to you ’cause we think of you as second best."

"No, not at all," Denise quickly threw in.

"Right! Purely an opportunity to get to know you better," Niven added with a smile.

"So what do you say?" Jackson asked hopefully.

Grace sighed and looked up at Jackson, "Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy what with being Ro’s PA and all..." The three others wore a shared look of disappointment. "But...I am a mold breaker. I might be able to do an hour or two on Wednesday evenings." She managed a slight smile and a nod before adding, "Might."

Cut To:Int.

Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office – Night

Mr. Felix paced, arms folded, in front of his desk as he spoke into his Bluetooth earpiece. With a guffaw he walked towards the window overlooking the floor where the employees worked.

"So Weyland Yutani and Blue Sun are worried about losing a couple extra million by investing a little more in our organization? Honestly, they can easily recoup their supposed losses in a day, if that!" Mr. Felix sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We are working towards a safer future for the generations ahead; it is not selfish asking for more money in order to accomplish that goal!" He fell silent as he listened to the reply. "Well, they are more than welcome to come down here, and I’ll give them the grand tour of the operation myself. Still, can’t complain, at least we’re not dealing with Wolfram and Hart," the latter he said gratefully.

"They want results? Did they not get the report last Thursday? We have our own squad of slayers as well as ex and retired watchers on board. Also we have…" His attention was drawn to a woman escorted by security, who had just entered the floor. A small smile crept across his face., "…yes, I know I don’t have to tell you. Please, if you would get in touch with The Consortium and get them to handle this matter; I’m about to dot the I’s and cross the T’s with a new affiliate of ours. Yes, she’s arrived. And yes, she certainly does look the part. Okay, bye."

Mr. Felix pressed his earpiece ending the call, straightened his suit, and stood by his desk.

A shapely figure of a woman was distorted by the vertical lines of frosted glass that streaked down the door face.

The door, held open by one of the members of the escort, revealed the stunning Gwen Raiden. Her PVC garments clung to her form, as if a second skin. Her long brown curls dangled over her shoulders, punctuated by dissident flares of red highlights that only served to accentuate her porcelain white skin.

"Miss. Raiden. Welcome to Bureau Nine. I’m Mr. Jason Felix."

Gwen arched a brow as she strode over to him. "So you’re the guy with the big fat wallet o’ green that managed to pry me away from my island paradise, huh?"

"I am indeed," Mr. Felix replied with a chuckle. "It’s an honor. You’re everything your file says you are and then some." He offered his hand with a warm expression of friendship on his face.

"I have a file? I could take that as a sign of my own sloppiness, but I’d rather take it as a compliment." She took his hand in hers, devoid of glove, and gave a firm shake, all the while looking him in the eyes to see if he faltered in his stance. Surprisingly, he did not.

Parting, Mr. Felix motioned to a seat opposite his desk, "Please."

She took a seat, crossing her legs, the sound of her PVC pants rubbing and creaking. "I have to say that you’ve either got a large pair of the proverbial or that your files must not be very complete if you were willing to shake my hand."

"To the contrary, Miss. Raiden," Mr. Felix began.

"Gwen," she corrected with a slight curl of her lips.

"Gwen. I emphatically know that your touch can be lethal, and I know that since you’ve acquired L.I.S.A from Morimoto-san, your ‘abilities’ are grounded, for lack of a better term. Most of the time, anyway."

She sat back in the chair. "Damn, I am getting sloppy."

"I know that if you really wanted me dead then you wouldn’t do the deed here, in the heart of my power."

"For lack of a better term?"

Mr. Felix grinned. "No, it would be in a more intimate setting. It would be at my home in the late evening where I’m alone, unprotected, and I would hear the faintest of sounds, believing that it was my imagination or that of the wind commanding the branches of the tree on my front lawn. Then as I settled in, there would be the softest of touches on my shoulder, the sweetest and most considerate, like fine silk, and then…nothing. No doubt the police would rule it out as a freak electrical accident. But, the point is, it

wouldn’t be here, and it wouldn’t be now, and it most certainly wouldn’t be before you’ve satisfied your curiosity as to exactly what I am offering."

Gwen couldn’t help but smirk, and she averted her gaze from him for the briefest of moments before returning her stare. "So my file comes with my M.O. attached, huh? I think it’s good for business for both sides to get a feel for one another. Helps the process run more smoothly...like silk." She grinned. "So Mr. Felix…"

"Jason."

"Jason," she repeated with a smile, sitting forward. "Satisfy me."

He stifled a smirk and let out a breath. Mr. Felix reached into his drawer and produced a leather-bound folder, which he slid across the table. "As you know, Bureau Nine wishes to hire you because of your expertise in the fields of espionage and larceny."

"Put ever so eloquently. Well, I doubt I’m here because of my fine taste in decor," Gwen quipped.

"Obviously, there’s something we want. Open the file."

Gwen unclipped the folder and opened to the first insert. The page depicted an artist’s impression of a bronze sphere, measuring slightly smaller than a soccer ball. The only visible markings were a line that horizontally circled the center of the sphere and another line that vertically crossed down the sphere, splitting the sphere into four quadrants.

"It’s remarkably unremarkable," Gwen said. The vague expression on her face and in her voice was a reflection of what little detail the page offered. "So…what is it? What’s it for?" she asked.

"It’s…a cog, if you will, designed to be an essential component of something much greater," Mr. Felix replied.

"Huh. And this ‘greater’ is...?" Her eyes glanced up from the page to meet his. His eyes had grown bold and resolute. "I like to know what I’m stealing is all." He just offered her the slightest smile in reply. Gwen nodded. "Okay. ‘Cog’ it is then," she said, fashioning an exaggerated perturbed smile.

"You’re the only thief in the entire world with the expertise and ability to gain access to the sphere’s location with ease and finesse. I don’t have to remind you that it’s imperative that you’re not detected. Not that I doubt your ability to get yourself out of a jam, just messy and not at all professional," Mr. Felix explained. "Turn the page. That’s the organization that is currently in possession of the sphere."

Gwen turned the page to show a photograph and details of the building.

At the top of the page, typed in bold, it read: "Target: The Watchers Council, Cleveland Branch Headquarters."

Gwen smirked, closed the folder, and looked back up to Mr. Felix. "Piece of cake."

Fade Out.

End of Teaser

Act One

Starring:Lacey Chabert as Skye, Gale Harold as Jim Pollan, Caroline Dhavernas as

Grace Hatherley, Norika Fujiwara as Mia, Asia Argento as Marie, Elijah Wood as Jeffrey Lindquist, Alexis Bledel as Denise, T.R. Knight as Jackson, Callum

Blue as Niven, Tessa Thompson as Chamique, Laura Pyper as Casey, Elizabeth Harnois as Jocelyn O’Hara, Helen Shaver as Becca Giles and Sarah

Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers 

Guest Starring:Gary Oldman as Mr. Jason Felix, Robin Sachs as Ethan Rayne, Alexa Davalos as Gwen Raiden, Tracy-Ann Oberman as Cameron Kreswell and Kyle Gallner

as Camden Kreswell

 

Fade In:Int.Giles and Becca's House – Bedroom – Early Morning

The warm glowing hue from the early morning sun filtered through the white net curtains. A shaft of light managed to penetrate the parting of the curtains and shone down upon the slumbering bodies of Giles and Becca. Lying on her side, Becca pulled the heavy blanket up around her neck so that only her face was visible. Giles lay over his side of the bed, the cover pulled down and his arms on top almost as if he was dividing his area of the bed.

Ever so softly Giles began to mumble in his sleep. The mumbles became more frequent, and the words more coherent, albeit not English.

"Eg…egeodar magunis…vush…terranis…deboris proclarush…"

After reaching a crescendo, he woke with a start, his eyes shooting open. Clearing his throat, he reached over to his bedside table and put his glasses on. He glanced over to Becca, who disregarded her husband’s fussing by snuggling down more with the covers.

Giles pursed his mouth as if to begin talking, but an anxious look appeared on his face. Gently, he swung his legs out of the bed to the floor and carefully pushed himself up off the mattress. He grabbed his robe and left the bedroom with his bare feet slapping against the wood laminate floor.

Cut To:Int.Giles and Becca’s House – Study – Moments Later

Taking a seat at his desk, Giles opened the bottom drawer to reveal a safe door with a numeric keypad and palm print device. Giles punched in the code and placed his clammy hand to the palm scanner. A clicking sound followed by an electronic beep now granted Giles access to the inside of the safe. Standing back up, Giles placed a large book on the desk.

Giles flicked through the pages. Scribbles, writings, and sketches all came into view for the briefest of moments as the pages turned a leaf. The last page of the book was empty. Reaching over, Giles picked up a pen and began to write frantically. Parts of the page were written in English, and other parts in another language. Punctuating the paragraphs were various elaborate sketches of what could only be described as some sort of machinery.

Moments later the page was more than half filled, and Giles continued to write, when suddenly he stopped mid-sentence. It was as if his muse had abruptly departed, or he had simply forgotten the rest.

"Bugger," he sighed as he sat back, throwing the pen at the book.

Giles took off his glasses, suspending the arm between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward with his elbow on the table, resting his head on his fist as he rubbed his eyes with his other hand.

Putting his glasses back on, he collapsed back into his chair, staring unenthusiastically at the book before reaching forward and slamming the book shut.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Basement – Vault – Later That Morning

With metal suitcase in hand, Giles exited the elevator and stepped out into the white-walled corridor leading down to the large metal face of the vault door.

The clipper-clobber of his hard leather heals echoed through the empty sterile corridor as he approached the barred cage before the vault door. A security camera positioned equidistant between the elevator and the vault trained its electronic eye on Giles, panning around to follow him as he continued up the corridor.

Arriving at the cage, Giles swiped his key card into the reader, and the cage door opened. Stepping inside the cage, he closed the barred door behind him before moving over to the computer terminal attached to the wall next to the vault door.

Giles slid his key card into another reader, and when prompted by the onscreen program, he entered his authorization code, followed by placing his palm on the screen.

A light above the computer terminal switched from red to green, and a message appeared which read: "Welcome, Mr. Giles."

Large dead bolts on the vault door slid over, and the sound of cogs and wheels turning could be heard as the door began to slowly open.

Giles walked into the vault and over to a metallic table that sat in the middle of the enormous underground room. Lining the walls were metal cabinets that reached to just below the ceiling; each drawer was labeled with its own

unique reference code. Placing the suitcase down on the table, Giles entered a number into a panel that wrapped around the opening of the suitcase. Once it was open, Giles pulled out the book.

With the book under his arm, he walked across the floor to the far empty corner of the vault. Pushing on a panel of the wall, a secret door popped open out of the wall to his right.

Closing the hidden door shut, Giles followed a shorter corridor to what seemed a dead end.

"Open the pod bay doors please, Hal," Giles said in clear voice.

His words spoken, the wall in front of him parted with the sound of a hiss from the pressure release unlocking.

Behind the wall was a smaller, more contained room with three glass bookcases, one against each wall. Giles walked straight ahead and slid open the door to the bookcase. On the top shelf sat three books identical to the one in Giles’s hand; and on each of the spines were labels titled "Knowledge of the Guardians" with a respective volume number on each book.

Giles placed the book in his hand up against the third volume and slid the glass door shut once again before leaving the secret room.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Lobby – Moments Later

The elevator doors parted, and Giles walked out into the lobby; the sunlight magnified by the large glass windows made him squint. He headed for the exit but was brought to a halt by Willow’s calls from across the foyer.

"Giles! Hey Giles?" He turned as Willow jogged over to him. "Hey. Is everything okay? What are you doing here so early on this…mighty fine sunny morning?" she said as she brought her hand up to block out the glare.

"Oh, yes…umm everything’s fine, Willow," he said, distracted by the light. "Here," he added, walking them towards the shelter of a shadow cast by one of the pillars. "That’s better. No, honestly everything’s fine. I had another dream last night, and I woke myself up jabbering some ancient gabble."

Dejected, Willow asked, "Find anything?"

"Not a clue. It’s…it’s frustrating not knowing what I’m saying, but at the same time a part of me feels and knows that I do." He let out a bleak sigh.

Willow placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Give it time." His brow inclined. "Well, a little more time, I mean. You do have a vast library of ancient knowledge that’s un-spooling in your already dense and large—and babble, babble, babble, I’m not helping, am I?" She gave a coy smile.

As always, Willow’s smiles were infectious despite their size. "You do have a knack for putting things into perspective." He put his hand on hers, and she put her hand back down by her side. "I came because I had filled another volume and wanted to put it with the others for safe keeping."

"And how many is that now?"

Giles looked to the ceiling briefly. "Four, and I know that it won’t be the last. At least I know what I’m writing down, so I guess that’s something."

"A sunshiny outlook is exactly what you should have. Maybe if you relax and stop worrying about what you can and can’t remember, it’ll come to you quicker?" she reassured.

"Yes, maybe. Thank you," he said gratefully.

"Hey, I know what we haven’t done in a while, with you playing Daddy and all: pancake run." Willow beamed.

"Tempting, but partaking in the delights of pancakes would mean invoking the worry of the wife. I left Becca sleeping when I left, and I didn’t leave a note," he confessed.

Willow teased with a gasp. "Naughty Giles. Don’t let her catch you with a younger, sexy woman in a diner eating pancakes. Could be grounds for divorce."

He grinned. "Another time?" he posed, but before Willow could answer, his cell phone started to ring.

"The worrying wife?" Willow cocked her head with a small pout.

Giles patted himself down, unsure where his cell phone was. Then he raised a finger, reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, and pulled out his phone. "Hel…yes…Becca, yes, I’m fine…" He leaned away from the speaker to whisper to Willow. "I’d better…" He nodded to the exit.

"It’s hell being the other woman," she teased him. Willow smiled and gave him a wink.

Giles returned the smile, but it fell as he said into the phone, "There is no other woman!" Automatically, Giles gave the phone to Willow. "Here," he ordered her.

"Hey, Becca," Willow said upon taking it. "Sorry, I was just teasing Giles. I didn’t think you heard that…Well, I’ll let him explain. Catch ya later," she said, handing the phone back to Giles. "I’m sorry," she whispered to Giles.

He grinned as his thumb and index finger grabbed her chin playfully. "See you soon," he told Willow before he walked away, talking to Becca as he moved.

Willow’s eyes followed him from the building to his car. She even continued to watch until he had driven away. She sighed and looked around the lobby but saw no one else. She swung her arms lightly, turned, and walked over to the elevators. Not more than a second passed before the doors opened to reveal Faith.

"Oh hey! Pancakes?" Willow asked gleefully.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Library – Morning

Ethan Rayne sat reading from a large and heavy text. Several other books were scattered about him, along with a haphazard array of papers. Most of the papers had notes scribbled on them in his thin, elegant script.

He picked one sheet up to look at it, and his half-moon reading glasses slid off his nose. "Blast!" he said, catching them just in time. He put them back on, and they immediately began to slide downward again. He tilted his head back and looked out through them.

"Can battle demons, cause mass chaos, and drive Rupert Giles mad—all before tea," he muttered aloud, "but I can’t conjure a simple pair of reading glasses that fit!"

"Ethan," Mr. Felix came up from behind him in the Bureau’s small but well-stocked library. "One of the charms of growing old is that you get to look distinguished in reading glasses," Felix began with a smile. "A great many ladies find it attractive."

"Yes," Ethan grumbled. "Old ladies with teeth that don’t fit any better than these specs do."

Felix chuckled and stepped up to the worktable. "How are you coming along with the Codex?" he asked. "Have you worked out what we’ll need to power the sphere?"

Ethan sat back and pushed the glasses back up to the bridge of his nose again. "Other than it’ll require a tremendous amount of power, more than any mage or witch or coven can provide? No. I assigned one of the…what do you call them? Underlings – I asked one of them to continue working on translating that passage. Keeps them quiet and from constantly asking what to do next. However, activating the sphere isn’t a prime concern," he replied. "Getting the sphere itself is. That’s what worries me."

Mr. Felix nodded and lifted one of the volumes from the table, inspecting its spine. "Not a problem," he said. "I’ve retained the services of an exceptionally talented thief. Comes highly recommended." He set the book back down and saw Ethan peering quizzically at him. "She’s a rather pretty one, too, I might add."

Ethan smirked as the eyeglasses slid to the tip of his nose. He pushed them back up. "A ‘rather pretty’ thief?" he asked. "I knew a ‘rather pretty’ thief once..."

April 25, 2002

Flashback To:Ext.Los Angeles – Abandoned Car Lot – Night

The night’s air was eerily still, chilled by the slight breeze that started to gain momentum as it blew over the barren field.

A stocky black jeep slowed to a halt as it reached the center of the junk car lot, the sound of the gravel and dirt crunching under the thick tires of the

vehicle. The headlights were off – dangerous considering the rocky off-beaten trail that led up to the junkyard.

Though the jeep was parked, the engine still ran. The bright beams of the headlights punctuated the darkness as they flashed twice in succession.

Ethan stood looking over the city of Los Angeles. The lights from the buildings and the cars below twinkled like stars on the ground. He only half turned his head at the flashing headlights.

He pulled a solid gold Zippo out of his pants pocket and flicked the lid open, sparking a flame that danced in the wind. He held the Zippo up for a few seconds and the sound of the engine of the jeep purred to a stop. He slid the Zippo back into his pocket and returned his gaze to the city lights.

The jeep door opened, and a petite woman jumped to the ground, small plumes of dust swirling round her feet. She slammed the door shut and started a slow walk over to Ethan.

"Miss Raiden?" he called out, not turning to her.

"Mr. Rayne?" she said skeptically as she continued to walk.

"You needn’t get so close – if what I’ve been told is true."

With a shiver, Gwen looked up at the night’s sky and then back to Ethan. "I like a cautious man."

"Then you won’t like me."

"No, probably not. If what I’ve been told is true, then you’re about as low as they come," she said nonchalantly.

"However," he turned to her, smirking, "I can be very cautious. But I will say, despite any misgivings, you do come highly recommended."

"Not a client so far has given me a bad reference for my...services." A small grin adorned her porcelain face.

Ethan looked Gwen up and down and huffed out a laugh at her bravado. "There won’t be any – shall we say – contention, between us, if we’re lucky," he blew out a long puff of smoke, "and maybe luckier if there is..."

"Just like a man, thinking with his crotch instead of his head," she said, placing a hand on her hip. "Don’t get your – oh what’s that English expression – ‘knickers in a twist’," Gwen smirked, "or should I say, don’t get your hopes – or anything else – up for that matter?"

"My only hope," Ethan turned completely round to face her, his face serious, "is that you are up to the task."

Their eyes sternly locked on each other’s. Gwen took a short step closer. "You got my money?"

"Actually, aren’t you supposed to ‘render services’ before a man pays you?" Ethan smirked.

Gwen just smirked back and took another step closer. Ethan stood, unwavering and looking down at her as she stood a mere arm’s length away from him.

"Mr. Rayne. You may be some powerful, old mage with a couple of neat tricks up his sleeve not fit for a child’s birthday party, but I am not the kind of person you wanna piss off. So unless you want things to get ‘freaky’, I’ll ask you again. Mr. Rayne, have you got my money?"

Thunder rumbled from the thick black dark clouds above as the air grew prickly and humid.

Ethan looked at her narrowly for a moment. "‘Up my sleeve’ as you so quaintly put it, is not where I keep my ‘tricks’," he said silkily. She rolled her eyes. "But we can talk about that later perhaps. If what Thomas Hillary said about you is true – and I’ve no reason to think it’s not – I believe we’ll get on just fine."

He smiled ingratiatingly at her. Suddenly, a cold and serious look came into his eyes. "But make no mistake, Miss Raiden," he said quietly, "there’s only one of us who shouldn’t piss off the other. You’re not a killer. And I’m far better at conniving," he smiled again. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a band of thousand dollar bills. "Half now. Half when it’s done."

Gwen couldn’t help but laugh, though she tried to stifle it. "No, I may not be a killer, but really you shouldn’t piss me off. I have a tendency to...let sparks fly when I’m angry, so to speak. So remember that, Mr. Rayne, and we’ll get on just fine." She arched a brow, steadfast in her sarcasm. She looked at the

wad of cash in his hand and then blinked a look back to him. "Half now suits me just fine." She reached for the cash and took it. "Now gimme the skinny and...get away from me," she said hastily as a chill ran up her spine, drastically changing the tone of the conversation. With a worried look on her face, she stared up at the black-lined clouds above.

Ethan followed her gaze up into the sky. "Bugger," he said, "and I was just getting warmed up..."

"No, seriously, get away from me NOW!" she shouted as she started to back away from him.

He looked at her oddly. He could see the fear in her eyes. "What on earth...?"

"RUN!" she started to run backwards herself before turning fully into a sprint.

Ethan turned to run and stopped himself at the brink of the drop-off, the city lights winking back at him. The thunder rumbled, growing in intensity as the storm came crashing in over the hills. He looked left and right, dropped to the ground, rolled, and crawled beneath the nearest junked car.

A sudden burst of brilliant white light illuminated the entire area, and an arc of white-hot lightning shot down from the clouds at breakneck speed and struck Gwen square in the back. The force of the strike swept her up off her feet and launched her into the charged air. Gwen flew back for what seemed a good 500 feet and then crashed down hard onto the dirt ground and rolled to a stop.

"Damn!" Ethan said from under the car, "and this was my best shirt!" He looked out and saw Gwen on the ground, on her side with her back to him. "The money–" He cut himself off as he realized the young woman had been struck by the lightning. "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered and dragged himself out from under the car. He stood up, now greased and oil-slicked, and walked cautiously over to Gwen. "Miss Raiden?"

He reached out to roll her over but then stopped himself, his hand not an inch from her shoulder. "Miss Raiden," he called.

Gwen groaned and slowly rolled over onto her back, her face covered with dirt and her hair dry and frizzy. She coughed and swallowed hard. "And I’m

up," she said, pulling herself up from the ground and arching her throbbing back. She sat up and then got to her feet. "I’d say that’ll get old, but it has and…" She flexed her muscles and winced slightly. "…but I’m good. Actually feel kinda refreshed."

Ethan gave a strong, sudden laugh. "Re-charged?" he said.

"Kinda," she said, shaking out her hands. "I’m like the Energizer Bunny – I just keep on going."

She bent down and picked up her wad of money. The fringes of the green notes were charred and some embers still burned, but she waved the wad in the air and blew it out.

"Oh, don’t worry about that," Ethan told her. "Worse comes to the worst, I’ll just conjure a new batch that looks as genuine as the real article – well almost. What’s really going to be difficult to replace are my clothes."

"Why don’t you just conjure up some new clothes, then?"

Ethan grimaced a little. "Don’t ask," he told her. "Do you know what designer Italian silk shirts cost these days?"

Gwen grunted and batted away his comment with her hand as she brushed herself down and wiped her face. "No idea, but I’ll steal ’em for you – no charge."

"Ah..." Ethan gave her pained look, "ha-ha...yes, well..." He stood and offered her his hand, then realized and shrugged.

Gwen sighed and looked up at the clouds. "Storm’s coming in. Say, how’s about we take our business elsewhere? Preferably somewhere indoors, warm, with a bar...?" She motioned over to her jeep.

He reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. They were squashed flat. "Yes," he agreed. "I could use a drink about now."

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Library – Resume

"Well," Felix said as Ethan sat up, blinking a couple of times and snapping out of his reverie, "‘pretty’ is a fringe benefit for us. Never hurts to have something nice to look at while conducting business, even if we are a bit too

far along to do anything besides look, hm?" He turned and made his way to the door.

Ethan smirked a bit as his glasses began their descent again. "Just because you’re long in the tooth..." he said under his breath.

Felix turned and looked openly at him. "Sorry – didn’t get that..."

"Ye-yes…well…because you…long for the truth..." Ethan said quickly trying to cover up. "...you’ve expressed it so…so…"

"Truthfully?" Felix offered, giving Ethan an odd look.

Ethan opened his hands and shrugged, smiling accommodatingly.

Felix nodded politely, shaking his head at the strange manner of the dark mage, and then left the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

"Berk!" Ethan spat. The glasses fell off his nose and landed in his lap. Ethan looked down at them and sighed.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Conference Room – Afternoon

Everyone was there.

Willow, Andrew, and Dawn from the Coven. Rowena, Robin, and Jim from the Watchers. Faith, Kennedy, and Mia from the Slayers. Xander was there too, sitting between Willow and Dawn, a hand over his mouth. Buffy herself stood in front of the group, each hand on the side of a wooden podium. Her fingers dug into the wood as she slowly surveyed the crowd, and no one spoke a word.

"I wanted to have a meeting because…" Buffy looked down at her podium. "...because I think we have some serious things that we need to discuss. I’m just going to lay everything out, so that we’re all on the same page."

"Halloween night, several members of the Council were abducted by a rogue slayer who had been living under our roof for years. Two slayers were killed. The rogue slayer is still at large. Simultaneously, we found out about an organization called Bureau Nine, which seems to do about the same thing we do, but charges people for its services." Buffy glanced at Xander and tried a smile.

"I’m sure Anya’s saying ‘I told you so’ right about now," Xander said quietly.

"Then there was the problem in Spain," Buffy continued. "Isabel Ortiz suddenly no longer showed any sign of ever having been a slayer, but any slayer who even gets close to her soon finds her powers completely and totally gone. Except for Faith, for some reason. And then Isabel disappeared. Now we’ve found out that Isabel has been brought to Cleveland, by Bureau Nine. And those aren’t the only problems we have. There was a strike by some of the slayers. Yesterday, I got an anonymous report on my desk about an incident where a decent portion of our slayer force was nearly poisoned, and Slayer Gradkowski had a nervous breakdown or something in the field, and the report says that she was on drugs, some pretty deep stuff." Faith and Mia shot each other a look.

Buffy cleared her throat and leaned forward. "I think I’ve been doing it again. I’ve been all lone-wolfy, and we’ve all seen how that leads to badness. These aren’t my problems; these are our problems. So I’m asking you, all of you…where the heck do we go from here?"

There was a long moment of silence, a moment that threatened to stretch into an eon of silence. It went on so long that when Faith cleared her throat, Andrew actually looked startled.

"The thing is, B, if we knew how to fix this crap, we would be out there fixin’ it. I know Heli’s driving everyone up the wall, and I know everyone here is antsy about Isabel, but we’re doing our best."

"Listen, guys, I don’t want to come off as General Bitch here," Buffy said, "but our best lately has just not been good enough, and we can’t afford not to be good enough. The reason the world is here is because in the past, we’ve been good enough. We all have to put our heads together and figure these things out."

Glancing nervously around the room, Mia slowly raised her hand. Buffy looked at her expectantly.

"We generally just sort of talk whenever we want to," Kennedy whispered to Mia.

"Oh," Mia said, lowering her hand. "Um, well, I don’t know where Heli is or anything, but I wanted to say that I don’t think Bureau Nine has told us everything."

"Certainly not," Jim exclaimed. "They hacked into our system, conducted operations that—"

"No," Mia corrected, "I mean, why would they bring Isabel to Cleveland if they didn’t have plans for her? They seem like they’re not hurting for cash. If

they just wanted to study her, they probably could have done it somewhere that didn’t put all their slayers and ours in danger."

Robin nodded. "She’s right. They may even mean to use her as a weapon. If the world runs on slayer power, Isabel is a nuclear bomb."

Kennedy leaned over to Faith. "I think your man just used you in a confusing and scary metaphor."

"It’s okay, he used you too." Faith grinned.

"By rights, Isabel shouldn’t exist," Rowena was saying. "She’s too big a mystical anomaly to merely be accidental. I think it’s very likely that Isabel’s going to be a very important piece in this game."

"This game?" Xander asked. "Which game? I didn’t even know we were playing."

"Which is exactly why we’re losing," Buffy said, resignation in her voice.

Fade In:Int.Watchers Council – Lobby – Evening

Grace walked out of the elevator, alongside Rowena, holding a large notepad in front of her.

"Call it a brainwave, call it a happening, whatever, but…" Grace said, looking over to Rowena, "…vampires right? Why does sunlight make them go...umm…" She snapped her fingers repeatedly as if to pluck the words out of the air.

"Poof?" Rowena aided.

"I was trying to go with something a little more professional, like ‘combust,’ but ‘poof’ is good," she snorted. "Then again, what can I expect coming from the woman who invented the term ‘vampification’," Grace smirked.

"Hey, don’t knock it; it’s catchy." She smiled. "Sunlight? Let’s see…it’s the demon’s Achilles heel, its weakness."

"Sure, but why? Just because?" Grace questioned.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Why is arsenic deadly to humans?"

"Because of its chemical reaction with our bodies."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, raising her finger, "I’ve got a theory…"

"We’re not singing again, are we?" Willow asked, meeting mentor and apprentice as she appeared from an adjacent corridor with a pile of books in her arms. "’Cause I only do the filler parts."

With deadpan look, Grace shook her head and turned back to Rowena. "Think of the vampire demon as a parasite. The parallels: they need to feed on blood to survive; they get stronger when they do. Now we know that…vampification," she said, making one set of quotation marks with her spare hand, "is the process of the soul departing the human body and the demon entering, right? Vampification alters the body, making it a more hospitable place for the demon—kinda like how some parasites will cause the body to produce more of a certain chemical in order to live inside the host body. What if it’s a chemical reaction?"

"Go on," Rowena said, folding her arms with a look of intrigue painted on her face.

"There’s got to be a reason why vampires combust in sunlight—the same as why they turn to dust when they are set on fire or get staked through the heart with wood," Grace continued.

"Well, we know why. The vampire is a mystical creature, so certain laws don’t apply to them. Its weaknesses are mystical. Or at least, that’s one explanation," Willow said.

"But what if it’s not a mystical reaction, or…or not all of the vampire’s weaknesses are the result of mystical means? You see where I’m coming from?" Grace’s notion received a slight nod from both Willow and Rowena.

"What if vampires are allergic to vitamin D? That’s why they go up in flames when they step outside, because of the chemical reaction between the sunlight and their skin. The same with a stake. What if the combination of wood and their heart – or perhaps another element that is produced by the demon – results in a chemical reaction which brings about death…again. Fire as well? In fables, garlic too – what if it’s all chemical?" Grace ran off in excitement at her theory with a smile that grew as she continued.

"I’ve gotta say I’m liking the science angle," Willow nodded. "It’s new agey and certainly something we haven’t explored. Plus, it’s been a while since I got my geek on and donned rubber gloves and dabbled with acids a-and did periodic table crosswords…" She trailed off wistfully. When she came back, she looked at the pair of watchers, who both wore grins. Willow coughed and continued, "Just because the heart isn’t beating, doesn’t mean that the body is dead. Hair and nails continue to grow once you’ve bought the farm, and what with the corpse re-animated by the demon, who’s to say that nothing else is going on inside? Let’s hope not like that intestine-snake thingy like in that film."

"What about holy water?" Rowena asked almost teacher-like.

"Oh…umm…wait, are you testing me? You’re trying to catch me off guard, aren’t you? Is this for a test?" Grace asked.

Willow didn’t get a reply, but rather Rowena motioned her hand across her mouth as if she was pulling a zip to keep her lips sealed.

"Is that the way you wanna play it, huh?" Grace straightened up. "The water’s blessed – hence the ‘holy’ – and therefore falls under the category of mystical-induced reactions," Grace replied smugly with the slightest crack of a smile.

Rowena chuckled and nudged Grace’s arm. "A+. Seriously, nice thinking. Definitely something to investigate."

Grace blushed with a grin. "See, I’m not just good for fetching coffee and…" As she spoke, the lights shut off, suspending them temporarily in total darkness.

"What’s going on?" Willow asked, a bit panicked.

"Oh my god, I’m blind?! Grace squealed.

"Looks like the power’s out. Hold on a sec," Rowena took her radio and pressed down on the trigger, and to her surprise it wasn’t working. "Okay, this is odd. My radio’s dead."

Each clambered for their cell phones. Willow wrestled with her books, but eventually she got her phone as she held her books close to her chest.

"My cell isn’t working either," Grace said., "I only charged it a couple of hours ago."

"Mine’s dead too," Rowena confirmed.

"There’s a surprise, me three," Willow added. "Hey look," she nodded to the wrap-round glass windows. "It’s not just us. Looks like the surrounding blocks are out too."

"I think it’s safe to say that it’s not just a power outage," Rowena supplied.

They made their way back over to the reception desk with the aid of the faint natural light filtering in through the windows. Rowena picked up the landline phone and tried to dial out but didn’t receive a dial tone. Willow moved around to the computer, dumping her books on the counter. She tried to power up the tower, but it didn’t respond.

Grace placed her pad down on the desk and ran over to the elevators, placing her ear against the cold metal doors. "Guys, I think we’ve got people stuck in the elevators."

"What the…what’s going on?" Faith shouted as she turned into the lobby from one of the hallways. "The lights, the phones – anything electrical and battery-operated is dead." She looked at her watch. "Now I don’t even know what time Earl’s on and I can’t phone Norm to tape it. Great."

Rowena looked up and moved from behind the desk to meet Faith. "We haven’t got a clue what’s going on. We were talking and then...Faith, did you check the backup generators in the basement?"

"Nah, I came straight here. Figured this is where peeps would gather. ‘Sides, without the elevators it’s too far to the top floor."

"Speaking of elevators: People. Trapped. Inside. Hello?!" Grace reminded, still with her ear to the metal doors.

"The backups should have come on by now," Rowena replied with a degree of concern.

"Not if this is the result of an EMP," Willow said as she walked over to Faith and Rowena.

"Not so much the result of an EMP, so much as me," a female’s voice echoed throughout the lobby as well as the sound of her heels connecting with the marble floor.

Grace stumbled back to stand beside Faith, who stepped forward in stance. "Willow we need light," she said.

As Willow raised her hands, she was interrupted by the woman’s voice, "You really don’t want to do that."

"I don’t like this," Willow quickly glanced to the younger watcher before looking back to the blackness. "Grace, get a squad of slayers down here now." Willow pulled Faith toward her and asked softly, "Heli?"

"Doesn’t sound like her," Faith whispered back.

"Please, like slayers would do any good," the woman spoke again. "Spiffy new digs you got here. Benefit of world fame, I guess. Hey, I nearly forgot, I have to thank you for that. What with the world up on all things that go ‘grr’ and ‘argh’ and whatnot, it’s made me less of a freak."

"Who are you?" Rowena called out.

Gwen stepped out of the shadows and into the twilight with a smug smile.

Willow peered at her, trying to recall her face. "Miss…Raiden?" she said with a certain degree of uncertainty.

"Please, Gwen."

"The lightning chick from a couple years back?" Faith asked, her questioning tone begging validation.

"Yeah, that ‘lightning chick’," Gwen replied simply. "Hey, aren’t you that woman that pulled a Jesus?" She arched a derisive brow while pointing at Faith.

Faith retorted with a snort and a fold of the arms. "Yeah, ‘that Jesus woman.’ That would be me."

"Enough. You’re responsible for this, aren’t you?" Rowena said, garnering the thief’s attention.

"Lady Lightning turns up on your doorstep and all the electrics are shot?" Gwen gave back sarcastically.

"Point taken. What are you doing here?" Willow added.

Gwen turned to her. "Business. The Council’s been targeted by an organization called Bureau Nine, and I’m the one they sent to do the deed." She grinned as she tilted her head to the side.

Fade Out.

End of Act One

Act Two Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Conference Room – Moments Later

Rowena, Buffy, Willow, Faith, Jim, Kennedy, Robin, Andrew, and Xander entered the candle-lit conference room and took their seats around the table.

Gwen stood by the large glass window, rubber-clad arms folded, gazing over the surrounding blacked-out portion of the city.

"Sorry about the cloak and dagger affair. Had to black out a plausible area of the city to make it look genuine," she said as she turned to the group.

"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" Andrew belted across the table, gripping the arms of his chair. "Because of you I’m gonna miss SG-1!" instead of a collective sigh, there was a collective rolling of eyes. Andrew sheepishly sat back in his seat.

"Well, from saving the galaxy on TV to saving the real world…" Gwen gestured with her hands in a ‘moving forward’ fashion.

"I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m siding with Andrew on this one," Buffy stated, receiving a stunned glare from the others round the table. She frowned uneasily. "Well…sorta." She batted the comment away and shook her head. "Because of you, our computers are more than likely corrupt. I’m just thankful you chose after hours to pay us a visit, so our losses shouldn’t be too…oh what’s the word? Tragic. Severe. Uber-bad. You catch my drift."

"Yeah, and not to mention a bucket load of other electrical equipment that presumably we’re gonna have to foot the bill for," Xander chipped in. "And I’m gonna have to replace."

"If you’re worried about the expenses, I’ve got more than enough tucked away in various offshore accounts. Like I said, I am sorry, but it’s not like I could have called ahead, hence the cloak and daggers," Gwen retorted. "I’ll personally get your computers up and running again, but so long as I’m not supposed to be here, my control chip is switched off, and I’m using my powers to emit a localized EMP field so that no surveillance devices can watch and listen in."

"You think we’re bugged?" Kennedy asked.

"That’s impossible," Robin added. "We’ve recently gone through everything and—"

"Anything’s possible. I scanned your building before I switched the grid off, and all I could detect was your own surveillance, but that’s not to say that there aren’t bugs out in the streets or teams parked in vans across from the building. I had to be sure I could come to you in secret. You used to be big wigs in the keeping secrets department, right? So I’m sure that somewhere under the bravado and pretense you can appreciate and understand where I’m coming from," Gwen replied, crossing her arms.

Buffy glanced to Rowena and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, Gwen, start from the beginning."

"Thank you." She cleared her throat and remained standing at the other end of the table. "Two days ago I was contacted at my home in Tahiti by an organization called Bureau Nine."

"Oh, one sec," Willow interrupted as she opened a folder, dragging a candle closer so that she could read. "It says in what little record we have on you that your base of operations is in L.A."

"It was, up until a couple of years ago when the lights went out. Between that, the rain of fire, and general other unpleasantness and drama, I decided to relocate to my holiday home permanently. That and I wanted a year-round tan. Go figure I only turn shades of Porky Pig instead of a golden sheen of Burt Reynolds or George Hamilton," Gwen sighed.

"What else does the file say?" Robin asked.

"Not much else. Gwen only became an affiliate of ours back when we sent out the distress call for our operation in Vor," Willow answered. "And that wasn’t the time to draft up a proper file on her."

"Actually, we go way back," Gwen revealed with a nod.

Willow looked skeptical. "Really? But the file…" She pointed to the page.

"Okay, perhaps not me and you guys, but me and The Old Guard," Gwen elaborated.

"Sorry? I had never heard of you before Vor, and there was nothing about you in the Old Guard’s records." Rowena wore a look of perplexity.

"And I would have to agree with Rowena," Jim supported.

"It wouldn’t be on record. I did strictly the hush-hush jobs. The kind of jobs that they didn’t want to put their name to—not because they were bad jobs, just sensitive. That’s why I showed up when you guys put out the distress call. Past ties and all." Gwen smiled.

"So what, you’re an honorable thief?" Kennedy scoffed.

Gwen stifled a smirk and leaned forward, placing her palms on the table, making everyone sit back in their chair despite her hands bound in silk gloves. "I will do any job that pays the right price, but I have ethics and morals. And there is one thing that I will not do, and that is sell out my allies and those I consider friends." She stood back up and placed her hands on her hips. "I’ve done jobs for one client where I’ve stolen something from someone, and then that someone hires me to go steal it back. So you see, I have double-crossed people, and I don’t care about it so long as I get my money. But when a reputable organization that I have worked for in the past—and that just happens to save the world on what seems a weekly basis—is targeted by a potential client, I just won’t take the job. So you see, chica, there is honor amongst thieves."

"But you took Bureau Nine’s job, though, didn’t you?" Faith leaned back in her chair with her hands rested on her stomach. "See, in my very large book of ethics, which I have to admit I recently acquired in the last few years…that ain’t being honorable."

"But risking my ass coming to give you guys the head’s-up and intel is," she bit back. "The head honcho, Mr. Felix, was the one I spoke with at their HQ." Rowena sat up and glanced at Buffy. "And might I add, it looks like a solid operation they’ve got going."

"I know," Rowena spoke up. "I visited their offices about a month ago."

"Really? Which one? The public top-side one, or the subterranean bat-cave one?" Gwen added.

"Lori mentioned that there was a lot underground," Rowena said.

"Girl’s right, whoever she is. There’s a hell of lot down there; it’s practically another building. Their top-side offices are where I’m guessing they do the day work. Below…" Gwen shrugged. "I don’t know what they do down there, but it has more than a whiff of fish to it. Mr. Felix called upon my talents to steal an artifact that you’ve got tucked away in your vault. I’m guessing either they’re too chicken to come in and get it themselves, or they’re pulling an Old Guard and don’t want to get their hands dirty or make themselves known. From what I’ve seen and learned about them, I’m guessing the latter," Gwen continued.

"What exactly do we know about Bureau Nine besides the fact that they are the supposed bearer of the annual ‘Big Bad’ title?" Xander put forward.

"No ‘supposed’ about it, Xander," Rowena looked down to her hands and then back up to the group. "I think it’s safe to say that Bureau Nine isn’t the shining beacon of legitimacy. The information Gwen has provided proves that we are indeed playing a game; they have pieces already and want to take one of ours, and we’re more than two turns behind."

"I may have something useful, though." Gwen turned to the windowsill and took a see-through folder from a leather portfolio. She held it up in front of the group. "I did some snooping after they contacted me to see who I was meeting. Boy was I surprised when I typed ‘Bureau Nine’ into Google. I never take anything at face value, and the fact that they seemed to check all the boxes labeled ‘goodies’ put me off a little. So I dug a little deeper, and I have to say that there wasn’t much more to find. Well, not in the way of anything incriminating. However, I did manage to unearth some interesting tidbits, which make for good bedtime reading." She passed the folder to Xander.

"Sorry, wrong end of the table. Watchers and book types at the other end." Xander thumbed up behind him.

Instead, Gwen nodded at Robin and slid the folder to him.

"What am I looking at?" Robin questioned as he opened the folder.

"Wire transfer orders from numerous bank accounts from across the globe. All orders deposited into one account in Zurich and then split into various other accounts, each with an individual numeric prefix but all under the

name of Honor Novem—roughly translated as ‘Public Office Nine’. Sound familiar?" Gwen clarified, cocking her head to the side.

"That’s certainly far too many zeros for my liking," Robin said, passing the folder along to Jim, "unless of course that was my bank balance."

Jim scanned the page. "It would appear that Bureau Nine certainly has its fingers in many, and some very large, pies."

"Anyone else feel like we’re in a game of Risk?" Willow chipped in.

"We knew that they have corporate sponsors," Faith said and then motioned for Jim to pass her the folder. "But we had no idea that they were making this much moola in Bureau Nine."

"You’re talking about the sponsors on the website?" Gwen asked. Faith shot a glance to Rowena, who nodded. "Well, they are actually pumping money into the company, but what you see in the file are investments from a select few of the world’s leading bad-boy corporations that don’t want to be linked to on Bureau Nine’s website: Weyland Yutani, Blue Sun, Torchwood, The Pegasus Group, Global Dynamics, The Syndicate, The Trust." As Gwen finished counting on her hands, she added, "To name a few."

"To name a few," Kennedy repeated, snickering as she looked at Buffy.

"My spidey sense started to tingle when Mr. Felix told me what the gig was," Gwen continued. "If they are claiming to be the good guys, then why do they want to steal from the other good guys? It doesn’t add up, or at least not for me."

"What artifact are they after?" Willow wondered aloud.

"Possibly the most boring artifact ever made." Gwen turned round and picked up from the windowsill a second folder and slid it across the table.

The folder stopped short of Willow and Rowena. Both pulled it in and examined the contents.

"Have we even got this?" Willow asked.

Rowena lifted a nearby candle and brought light to the page. "Yeah, I think we do. Can’t say what it is, though. It’s categorized under miscellaneous."

"You mean you guys don’t even know what it is?" Gwen said, taken aback.

"Seriously, we have nothing on it," Rowena replied. "Is this all that Bureau Nine has?"

Gwen shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I asked Mr. Felix what it was, and all he told me was that it’s like a cog in something much grander."

"That could explain the markings on the sphere, though they could be decorative," Willow supplied unsure.

"Well, if the sphere’s vital to whatever they have in mind, shouldn’t we like, throw it in a volcano, take a hammer to it, or something?" Buffy said with an inclination of her brow.

"We can’t without knowing what it is," Jim added.

"But isn’t knowing that Bureau Nine wants it reason enough?" Kennedy argued.

"Yeah, I’m siding with B and Ken on this one. L.O.T.R. it in Mount Doom and finish it," Faith threw her voice in.

Andrew grinned silently.

"I hear you, all of you, but how can we destroy something that we know nothing about? For all we know, destroying this artifact could cause more harm than good. We just don’t know what it is," Jim retorted. "Miss Raiden is proof that Bureau Nine wants the artifact, but is too afraid of coming in and retrieving it themselves. She’s a pawn in their game. No offense."

"None taken," Gwen said flatly.

"If they wanted it so bad, they would have sent a strike team and gone all out," Jim said, "but they haven’t, which means we hold power over them; we have a piece that they want, and I for one would like to keep it that way."

"All I’m saying is...wouldn’t we eliminate the threat by destroying it? Essentially end the game now and still come off with power over them?" Kennedy continued.

"I think the point Jim is trying to make," Rowena began, "is that with the artifact we have more control than we would without it.

"Right," Willow added. "After all, it’s not going anywhere in our new state-of-the-art vault," she said, backing him up.

"Exactly. Thank you, Willow." Jim shared a small smirk. Rowena squirmed in her seat. "All I’m saying is that we research the artifact, find out exactly what it is and what it does. Once we have a definite answer, then we destroy it, but only if it poses a threat."

Buffy listened attentively to Jim’s argument, and when he had finished, she clasped her hands. "Okay, sounds like a plan. Like Will said, it’s in our vault, and it’s not going nowhere."

"Which leads nicely into my plan," Gwen said, bringing the focus back to her.

"What do you mean?" Rowena posed.

"I can’t just go back to my paradise home without doing the gig. Bureau Nine would hunt me down – not that they’d be able to find or do anything to me. It would be a pain in the ass to have to continually fend them off, and plus I have a business to run. Clients who want discreet transactions are going to be put off by the very large and very powerful organization on my tail."

"What do you propose?" Jim asked.

"I propose a fake heist," Gwen enlightened. "I break into the Council, sneak into your vault undetected, retrieve the ‘artifact,’ and get the hell out and back to Bureau Nine with the swag. But I’ll need your help."

"How do we fit in?" Xander spoke up.

"Funny you should ask," she said, pointing at Xander. "You’ll have to create a fake sphere that is the exact replica of the original. I fake the heist all for the illusion that everything’s genuine so that if you are being monitored, nothing’s suspected. I take the fake sphere back to Bureau Nine and go on my merry with my money."

"And in it for us is…?" Buffy wore an incredulous look on her face.

"Well, aside from getting one up on them, you get a hacker’s buffet of delights into their database," Gwen replied.

"I’m going with Xander’s earlier notion – huh?" Willow said with an air of confusion about her.

"That’s where you and Luke come in," she said, casting a glance to Andrew. "You two are the techies of the group, right?"

"And level sixty warrior mages on World of Warcraft," Andrew added quickly before receiving a ‘shut up’ glare from Willow.

Gwen grinned. "Okay then. You two work with me to finish the coding and hardware for my wi-fi worm application. When it’s done, we place the receiver and transmitter inside the bogus sphere, and you guys get full remote access to Bureau Nine’s database."

"Question," Andrew put his hand up. "With you emitting your very cool X-Men-esque powers, how are we supposed to work? Seeing as you’re not meant to…be here and all." He whispered the latter, covering one side of his mouth with the cup of his hand.

"We go down to your vault, lock ourselves inside with a couple of laptops and the other necessaries, and I switch my control chip back on. Sound good?" Andrew was about to question her again, but she raised her hand to stop him. "And...we scramble the security feed in the vault. That way, I keep my cover, computers and other electrical work and things are consistent," Gwen finished, putting her hands back on her hips.

"Well, you’ve certainly put some thought into our plan," Willow said dryly.

"Fair’s fair. I mean, Bureau Nine hacked into our systems. Seems only right we get to do the same. We are in play, aren’t we?" Kennedy said.

"I say we play," Xander added.

"Me three," Buffy agreed, looking around the table, receiving nods from the others.

Rowena snickered. "I’m sorry, but why exactly are you doing this for us again?"

"Yeah, what’s in it for you?" Faith backed Rowena up.

Gwen stepped forward. "I get my money, and I get do a good deed. Something I rarely get to do. And I want to help you because the Council’s work is important and this world needs you. I believe in your efforts, and I consider you to be allies. Isn’t that reason enough?"

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Office – Later

Ethan pushed the reading glasses back up his nose again and held them in place as he squinted at the tiny print in the book he was reading. "Bloody..." A knock at the door interrupted him. "...hell."

He pulled the glasses off and got up to answer it. A lithe twenty-year-old with high, rosy cheeks and short brown hair stood looking at him like a lost puppy. Ethan smiled in earnest at the boy.

"Camden. What a nice surprise. Please…" He stood aside, gazing down at the top of Camden Kreswell’s cropped hair as the boy entered Ethan’s room. Ethan smoothed his own hair back. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of—"

"Ethan—" Camden blurted, turning sharply toward him.

Ethan could see that the boy was edgy and uncertain. He raised both eyebrows and gave Camden a close-mouthed smile.

"Ethan..." Camden looked away and then suddenly back at him. "Etha—"

"Yes, I am Ethan," the man said slowly, fighting a smile. "And you are Camd—"

"Ethan, I have to speak with you!" Camden turned quickly away and bumped into the dresser, toppling Ethan’s three-legged mortar and pestle. Ethan reached out to help the boy right the object, and their hands brushed.

Camden turned bright red and pulled his hands back quickly. "Sorry!" he said and turned, head down. For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence, and then he heard Ethan step out of the room. He waited for another long moment and then decided to leave. Just as he began to move, Ethan returned.

A shot glass full of golden liquid suddenly appeared under Camden’s nose.

"Here," Ethan said, no longer trying to hide his amusement. "This will help with – whatever it is."

The boy hesitated a beat, then took the glass and downed the scotch at once. Ethan waited for the kick, but the boy merely heaved a breath and

handed the glass back to the astonished mage. Ethan took the shot glass and stared at it.

"Ethan, I – I have to speak with you. Please. I know it’s rather late, but I need – I want to – there’s something that –"

"Here now, slow down." Ethan steered him toward an easy chair. "The faster you go, the less you seem to say. Sit."

The boy obeyed immediately. Ethan let out laugh. "Nearly as good as Rupert," he said to himself.

"Sorry...?"

"Oh, nothing..." Ethan waved him off. He took a seat opposite the boy.

"What’s on your mind then, eh?"

Camden sighed and launched headlong into his issue. "There’s been a lot of...talk around here. The whole Bureau’s been buzzing with it. And I – I don’t want to insult you, you understand, but I must know if it’s true. Because if it is, then you’re—"

"Yes," Ethan almost growled at him, suddenly angry. "It’s true. I’m the over-the-sodding-hill, can’t-get-any-work-cause-he’s-far-too-old, life’s-passed-him-by, darkest of old dark mages to walk the hallowed halls of this bloody organiza—"

The boy’s dumbfounded look stopped Ethan in mid-tirade. Camden half-smiled. "Everybody knows that," he said offhandedly. "Oh! Not the ‘old’ bits! The dark mage part…But that’s not what people are talking about. They’re talking about…well, you know…you…that is…you like, or rather…um, prefer…you have a certain predisposition for...uhhh…"

Ethan rolled his eyes, and his mouth quirked at one corner. "If you are referring to the fact that I am decidedly and exclusively not heterosexual, that’s yesterday’s news." He frowned and added glumly, "Or in my case, last century’s…As for what people are saying about it all, I haven’t the slightest clue, but I can assure you it’s all true. Or probably should be."

Camden blinked at him, breathing shallowly. "Then…then you…you do..."

Ethan waited, trying not to smile at the youth’s discomfort. "Well," he said, as the boy struggled for words, "if I don’t, it’s probably because it’s physically impossible."

"…understand," Camden finished.

"Understand?"

"Ethan. Please. Promise me you won’t speak to Mother about what I’m about to tell you. Do you promise?"

Ethan looked up at the ceiling. "Cross my heart and hope to ‘lie.’ "

"Ethan, I – there’s something I need to say."

"No, there isn’t. You don’t have to say it. The only good that might come from saying it is that you mightn’t be so bloody well tied in a knot all the time."

"Y-you know what I’m trying to say?"

Ethan looked at the boy out of the tops of his eyes and sighed. "Let’s see, how can I put this…If I weren’t here, then everyone would be saying these things about you." He smiled pointedly.

Camden’s face turned deep red, and the boy scowled. "Is it that obvious?"

"It’s so obvious even your mother’s gotten it," Ethan waved his hand. The boy’s scowl turned into horror, and Ethan laughed out loud. "What are you so on about? So what? It’s nothing unusual and nothing new. But I will say this: it’s the one thing around here that will get you scorned more quickly than being a sorcerer or a witch could."

"Yes!" Camden’s head shot up, relief on his face. "I thought there was no one who could understand until you came here and – I’ve never been able to talk to anyone about it…"

"Until now," Ethan sighed, resignedly.

"Ethan…what was it like? For you, I mean. Were you ever…was there ever anyone that you really-really..."

"Only one that I ‘really-really’." Ethan raised his eyes slowly to meet the boy’s, and Camden blinked at him. "I wasn’t much older than you…" Ethan stopped and looked sharply at the boy. "Here now…have you got someone?" he teased. "Someone you’d like to…‘really-really’?"

"Yes," Camden said. "But…I’ve never…it would be my…my first…time. I want it to be special. To mean something. To last. Forever."

Ethan smiled slightly. "Well, if the first one is the one that lasts forever, that rather eliminates all the fun you could have in between. Doesn’t it?"

A thought occurred to Camden, and he looked searchingly at Ethan. "Ethan? You say that you were my age, that he was the only one that you really loved? Is that possible?"

"What? That I loved or that he was the only—?"

"That it was so long ago?"

Ethan cringed.

"Oh no, what I meant was, has there been no one since?"

"Why are you so interested in me?" Ethan asked.

Camden stared back silently at Ethan, barely breathing.

"Please. Take a breath. Your mother will never forgive me if you asphyxiate in front of me."

"What happened to him?"

"Married. To a wonderful lady," Ethan answered. "Two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. At least I assume they're beautiful, never seen them both. Their parents are rather handsome so...genetics and such."

"And what about you?"

"Single. One dog – dead now. Thanks for asking."

"So…you left him…"

"No…and yes." Camden seemed confused by the answer. "We all have choices we make, my dear boy…You see, we spent a lot of time delving into black magicks together. And it...heightens the emotions. For him, the sexual attraction was probably the influence of the magic. For me, at times, it was something deeper. But one day he decided to walk away from the magic. I decided to stay. So the answer is no…and yes."

"But do you still ‘connect’ with each other?"

"Unfortunately, one of the side effects we were both left with from all that magic-laced intimacy was the ability to sense and even to be in very real contact with one another even when apart. It’s not exactly telepathy, but…hard to explain. Luckily, it’s only intermittent and usually well below the conscious level. Unless we’re under duress or actually looking for it."

"Why luckily? That sounds like it might be…I don’t know…comforting."

Ethan stared hard at Camden. "It’s no comfort being connected to someone once it’s over," Ethan said quietly.

"But you really were in love."

Ethan chuckled quietly. "If you truly love someone you'll make adjustments, compromises, dare I say personal improvements, to keep them in your life. And as I said, I had a choice."

Camden stood, grimfaced, and approached Ethan. Ethan watched him close the distance and smiled questioningly. The smile disappeared when the boy knelt down in front of him and laid his hands on Ethan’s knees.

"I – I can help," Camden said quietly, swallowing compulsively. "I – I want you to know that – that I don’t think he was right for you. You may have loved him, but you need someone who truly cares for you and you alone. Even to the exclusion of everything else. You—"

Ethan’s open-mouthed stare cut the boy off. Camden bowed his head, his face coloring. His hands trembled atop Ethan’s knees.

"Please, Ethan," his voice rose up, "I know you think me just a – a boy. A child, even. I don’t have your years of experience." He looked back up into Ethan’s blinking eyes. "But maybe – maybe you could use someone who isn’t cynical or jaded or – or so hardened that he can’t return your…your love."

"Cam!" Ethan’s astonished tone made Camden catch his breath. He searched Ethan’s face anxiously.

Ethan sat, stunned. "Cam…" he repeated softer and shook his head, at a loss.

Camden bowed his head again and curled his fingers, scrunching the fabric of Ethan’s dress slacks in them. "Ethan," he breathed quietly. "Please. Give me a chance. Don’t send me away. I won’t be like he was."

Ethan exhaled and looked sadly at the boy at his feet. Slowly, he reached out and rested two fingertips gently atop Camden’s head.

Cut To:Int.Giles and Becca’s House – Living Room – Same Time

Becca stared at Giles as he rubbed his thumb against his first two fingertips. "Rupert, is something wrong?"

He looked up from where he sat, the newspaper he was reading half-open on his lap. "Oh…no…I – I just had a strange sensation in my fingers…in fact," he smiled at her, "it’s gone now."

"Fingers, not your arm, right?"

Giles grinned. "Yes, I think I’ve just done too much writing lately," he replied.

"Well," she said on a yawn, "tell Dr. Miller about it tomorrow, just in case." She stood and walked over to him and kissed him on the head. "I’m going to bed."

"I’ll be in very shortly," he said.

She walked across the room then turned to him. "Promise me? Dr. Miller? Tomorrow?"

"Yes, I promise. But I’m sure it’s nothing." He smiled at her again, and she went off to bed. "At least, it had better be, Ethan," he muttered, rubbing his fingers again and staring out the window into the evening gloom.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Basement – Vault – Later

"I’ve been out of the coding circuit for too long," Willow whined as she slumped down in her chair, staring aimlessly at the laptop screen that displayed lines upon lines of code. "And here I was getting excited about getting my geek back on again, but now all I’m excited about is taking a couple aspirins."

Andrew sat opposite Willow, the sound of incessant tapping from his keyboard echoing through the large room. "I think this is actually kinda relaxing," he said with a tiny curve of a smile, his eyes transfixed to the screen.

"Yeah, ’cause no pressure. None at all," Gwen added, looking up from the other end of the table where she stood over a large magnifying glass. Below the lens was a small device with its internal circuit board and wires exposed,

roughly about the size of a USB key. "We’re only creating a wi-fi worm with a base code pretty much completely written from the bottom up – and might I add a code that won’t get done unless we cut the chit-chat – to remotely hack into a presumably highly encrypted database of a very powerful organization. So yeah, no pressure." She curled her lips into a smirk before looking back down at the device.

Andrew swallowed, his mouth becoming instantly dry. "I…umm…need…" He leaned forward and took a sip from his glass of water.

Gwen carefully lowered her index finger over the exposed circuit board and pressed down on the two wires, resulting in a small blue spark under her finger. With the wires fused, she slipped her hand back into her glove and turned to her laptop.

"What does it feel like?" Willow asked, leaning on the table.

"It feels much better, thanks. Doctor Miller prescribed me an anti-inflammatory cream and it’s—" Andrew looked up, knowing that the crickets were chirping. "Yes, work." He fashioned an embarrassed grin and got back to work.

"You mean, what does it feel like having a constant electrical current coursing through your body with more power than the combined dams in the entire world?" Willow gave a simple nod. "Kinda tingly," Gwen looked away back to her laptop, "and cold at times too."

"Huh?" Willow frowned.

"Lonely."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"You can’t," Gwen hastily gave back. She smirked and looked back down at her laptop. "My control chip gives me some normality, and I am grateful that I…stole it and that it does exactly what it said it would on the box, but it still leaves me out in the cold, alone. It’s hard to connect with people anything beyond conversation. No, it’s a risk. There’s only so much power comforting and reassuring words have before they become just words that you’ve heard a million times over. Sometimes it’s nice to have that hand on your shoulder – the simplest touch to let you know that everything’s gonna be fine. But

again, for me it’s too much of a risk even with my control chip because all that stands between me and the other person is a tiny strip of metal and wires. I guess underneath it all it doesn’t feel normal to have something attached to you that makes you not kill people. But then again, I don’t know normal."

Willow gave Gwen a small comforting smile. "Who does?"

"And I’m…done," Andrew announced, lifting his fingers off of the keyboard. "I don’t know about you ladies. This code won’t get done with chit-chat going on." He looked up with a sarcastic gleam in his eye, but his self-considered ‘one-up’ was shot down by both ladies, who just stared back at him nonplussed. Andrew cleared his throat. "I’ve finished the encryption key module. Bureau Nine’s network moderators will think that the database is making a random backup."

Gwen finished typing herself. "Good work. The universal OS emulator’s done. How’re the drivers coming along?"

Willow turned back to her laptop, "A couple more lines of code and it’ll be done. Chit-chat and all." She smiled at Andrew. "Then I’ll get to work on the hacking algorithm to access their ports and sockets. Surprisingly, I can do better than program compatibility drivers."

"Nice. Andrew, can you give me a hand with the wi-fi access point protocols?" Gwen asked.

"Sure, no problem," Andrew got out of his chair and brought his laptop around to sit next to Gwen.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Xander’s Workshop – Same Time

"Nah, I don’t buy it. This is too easy," Grace announced with her arms folded, standing beside a workbench with the folder from Bureau Nine laid open.

"You saying you’d rather be down in the vault with the geek troop, creating some Cylon style virus?" Xander commented as he fiddled with the controls on a console for a large piece of machinery.

Grace raised her finger. "You see, if you said that to anyone else, they’d just look at you all weird-like. Well, okay, anyone besides Andrew. But knowing him, he’d go off on a geek-gasm about it. Plus the thingy that they’re doing down there isn’t going to invade Bureau Nine’s networked computers and turn their own systems against them and leave them defenseless to nukes, so therefore it’s not exactly like a Cylon virus, but…hey that would be cool. Can’t they do that instead?"

Xander smiled, his back still to her. "I didn’t know you liked Galactica. You’re missing out on our official sci-fi nights in the rec room."

"I’m not too big on the whole social thing. I’m kinda having second thoughts about agreeing to play cards with Jackson and the others. I mean there’s conversation, I listen, I throw in my two pennies, there’s awkward silence, then someone talks about something else, and I retreat to the corner and end up talking to inanimate objects. They take my snarky comments and are normally willing to listen, if not grateful that someone actually talks to them," she slowly nodded her head, wistfully staring at the wall.

"Do they talk back to you?" There was a slight snicker laced in Xander’s voice.

She blinked and looked back to Xander, who was still working, "No! That’s just crazy! Plain crazy talk, that’s what it is!" Her eyes darted about the room, and she straightened up. "But umm…yeah I’m a fan. Normally I’m hate remakes..."

"Re-imaging," Xander corrected.

"Yeah I know! I was about to say that!" Grace sarcastically added with a smirk. "But the 2003 ‘re-imaging’..." She deliberately enunciated her words, and before Xander could get a word in, she hastily continued. "I know! But I count the mini-movie as part of the series, which means it started in 2003...pure genius."

"Male Starbuck or female Starbuck?"

"Oh female, definitely," Grace grinned. "You?"

Xander looked over his shoulder and raised his brow.

"Figures, but she’s so much better than that Benedict guy." Grace wore a toothy cheeky smile.

"Yeah and hotter too," Xander backed away from the console and cracked his knuckles.

Grace looked up at him; a smile crept across her face at seeing him smile. "It suits you," she said. Xander looked puzzled. "Your smile. I’m glad you’re doing better."

He gave a nod and looked down at his hands, his fingers still locked between each other. "Some days are longer than others but…yeah, I’m getting there." He clapped his hands and looked back up. "The scanner’s sensors are aligned and calibrated; we’re good to go. Pass over the artifact?"

Grace picked it up. "Umm, didn’t think it would be this light...or this tacky," she said, inspecting the bronze finish, scratching it with her nails. "Some ancient whoever actually made this? Looks like something crappy toy that Hasbro would make."

"Ooh, like the Oozinator," Xander added.

Silently Grace shook her head and handed over the artifact. "Touché, but just…wrong."

Xander opened the see-through hatch on the side of machine and placed the artifact on a stand inside. He closed the hatch and moved over to the console. He entered in a command and pressed down on the touch screen button labeled ‘scan’.

"So let me get this straight. You scan the artifact into this glorified hotbox, and then you press another button, and it abracadabras an exact replica," Grace said nonchalantly.

"Well it’s a bit more complex than that. The 3D modeling machine scans an object into its memory, taking precise measurements on all axes. Then we take the artifact out as so." Xander demonstrated as the machine had finished scanning the item. He took it out and handed it back to Grace. "Then we go to the console and hit construct." He did and a low resonating hum emerged from the machine. "Now begins the construction phase, or as I like to call it, the ‘warm liquid goo’ phase." He chuckled and then bent down.

"Again, no one else," Grace replied with a smirk and raised brow.

Xander tapped on the lower compartment of the machine. "It’s in here that the replica is made using hot wax and various other liquids. It’s then blasted and set, and…this is incredibly boring, I know."

Grace arched her brow, arms folded once again. "So basically what I said? Abracadabra?"

"Sorta."

"Sand paper?" she asked quizzically.

He shrugged his shoulders. "For that ancient-y effect."

She nodded. "And while we wait?"

Xander stood up and tapped his fingers on the machine. "Guitar Hero?"

Grace’s face lit up in excitement. "Oh you’re so on, buddy! I’m gonna kick your butt," she said with a large smile as the friends made their way out of the workshop.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Basement – Vault – Later

Willow and Andrew stood on either side of Gwen, the three of them staring at the laptop screen as they scrolled down through pages of code.

"It looks like we’re done," Gwen announced. "Spot anything?"

Willow shook her head. "Nope."

"Goose egg," Andrew added.

"Well, we’ve been through it all individually and then together, so we can’t have missed anything. Good job. Now all that’s left to do is to upload the code to the hardware," Gwen said as she leaned over and took the device and plugged it into the laptop via the USB-port. A dialogue window popped up displaying the rate of transfer of the program to the hardware.

The sound of the vault door churning as it opened up echoed throughout the empty space. The large metal door parted only so far to allow Xander and Grace to enter.

"We come bearing gifts, and they’re non-returnable," Xander raised his voice over the sound of the vault door closing behind him.

Gwen moved from the table to meet Xander and Grace halfway. "Let me see." Xander handed over the fake artifact, which fell under Gwen’s

scrutinizing eye, "And the real deal?" she sounded like she was reserving her judgment.

Grace placed the real artifact in Gwen’s other hand. "I gave ’em the once over; they look spiffy to me."

"I don’t do ‘spiffy.’ I do accuracy," Gwen gave back, glancing up from the two objects. She held the fake in her left hand and the real in her right. They slipped a little from the silk of her gloves, but she had a hold on them. She turned her wrists to look at the objects at all angles. Gwen gave a slight nod. "Good. Bureau Nine’s only seen the artifact on paper, and without having the genuine article to compare the two, they won’t suspect that this," bouncing the fake one in her hand, "isn’t the real deal."

She handed the real artifact back to Grace and moved over to the table. Placing the fake down, she pointed to the device attached to the USB-port of the laptop. Andrew checked the screen and then unplugged it, handing it to Gwen.

Xander came over and picked up the fake artifact. He placed one hand on the top of the sphere and the other underneath. Giving a hard twist, the top half and the bottom half went in opposite directions, and Xander parted the two halves to reveal the hollow cavity inside.

Gwen turned the device on its back and applied a thin layer of super glue and then placed the device on the bottom on the inside of the fake artifact.

Xander screwed the two halves together and gave it back to Gwen.

"Which locker is the original kept in?" she asked.

"Over here," Willow said, walking over to one of the lockers across the room.

Willow reached into her pocket and took out her ID card and swiped it into the card reader to the right of the locker. As soon as the red light switched to green, she pulled open the empty drawer. Gwen placed the fake artifact in the right-hand corner, and Xander placed the real artifact in the left-hand corner and pushed the drawer shut.

"So, let’s begin," Gwen said.

Cut To:Ext.Building Roof – Later That Night

Across from the Council on the roof of another building stood Gwen, clad in a red rubber tank top with her hair held back in a ponytail. She peered through a pair of binoculars, surveying the lay of the Council roof.

Panning around, she focused on a tall lamppost in the street next to the Council building. Her lips curved with a devilish smile, and she holstered her binoculars on her belt.

Gwen walked along the roof and positioned herself in line with the lamppost and the adjacent rooftop. She flexed her muscles and took a few steps back. Then she set off like a whippet, racing towards the edge of the roof.

She vaulted over the edge, her legs still in motion – kicking behind her to further her distance from the roof – and before she could plummet, she threw out the magnetic grapple from her belt and the pad latched onto the lamppost. Her body jerked forward, and using the forward and downward momentum, she put herself into a swing.

At the peak of her fourth loop, she threw all her weight forward and released the grapple pad from the lamppost by pressing a button on her belt. She outstretched her arms and narrowly grabbed onto the edge of the Council roof. Acrobatically, Gwen put her legs together and lifted them above her. The magnetic grapple snaked back towards her and snapped back into the housing on her belt. Gwen tightened her fists and then launched herself skyward, her arms crossed against her chest. She spun in midair and landed feet first on the solid concrete rooftop with all the elegance of an acrobat.

Scanning the rooftop, she made way for the access door. She shimmied with her back against the wall and peered around the corner to see a security camera above the door. Gwen took her glove off, sparks of electricity crackling from her fingertips. She placed her hand on a metal tube carrying cables up to the camera, and flickers of short bursts of light raced up to the surveillance device shorting it out, leaving the nose of the camera facing the floor with its power light off.

Gwen slipped round the corner and put her palm to the card reader on the door. Blue sparks erupted under her palm, and the door popped open. She went inside and started down the stairs.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Fourth Floor – Moments Later

After taking the stairs from the roof and past the fifth floor, Gwen stopped at the access entry on the fourth floor. She zapped the lock and carefully opened the door, only about an inch or so. She took her PDA in her other gloved hand and put it through the gap in the door into the hallway. Three lights pulsated on the display indicating security cameras. The line of sight was a problem for all three. Gwen clipped her PDA back on her belt and put her gloveless hand on the light switch on the wall just outside the door. A small plume of smoke seeped through the screw holes as the bulbs in the lights in the hallway shattered.

Protected by the cover of darkness, Gwen stepped out into the hallway and approached the elevator. With her gloved hand, she called the elevator. Once the doors opened, she walked inside and pressed the fifth floor button and walked back into the darkened hall. The doors closed, and the elevator departed and within moments called at the fifth floor.

Gwen pried the elevator doors open and threw her magnetic grapple up onto the bottom of the elevator on the fifth floor. She gripped the grapple wire and stepped out into the shaft. The wire escaped the coil housing on her belt as she fell through the empty shaft at tremendous speed.

As she neared the floor of the shaft in the basement of the building, she pressed a button on the grapple housing and stopped her descent with a jolt. Keeping her finger on the button, she pressed it and fell, and then pressed it again and stopped. She continued this until she was safely a few feet off the floor and pressed another button to release the grapple pad from the bottom of the elevator.

Gwen landed on the floor of the bottom of the shaft and went about prying the elevator doors open.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Basement – Vault Hallway – Same Time

The elevator doors opened just enough for Gwen to see the security camera in the middle of the hall. She reached out her bare hand and an arc of lightning leapt from her fingers and struck the camera; the electricity encased the machine, rendering it inert. Gwen closed her fist, cutting off her attack, and the camera slowly pointed to the floor.

She hopped up from the shaft onto the floor and walked down the hall. At the cage door she swiped her hand across the card reader, and the door opened. With the door swung open behind her, she walked over to the computer terminal and pressed her palm on the screen. The terminal overloaded, and the large vault door came to life.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Basement – Vault – Same Time

As the vault door crept slowly open, a torrent of electricity curled round the large circular door and split into four arcs; each darted towards their respective security camera.

Not waiting for the vault door to fully open, Gwen marched inside. She headed straight for the locker that housed the artifact. She placed her hand on the card reader and released the lock on the drawer. As soon as she slipped her glove back on, she pulled the drawer open and took the fake artifact from the right-hand corner. With her spare hand, she reached around to the back of her belt and pulled out a folded-up cloth bag; the sound of it ripping from Velcro echoed throughout the vault.

With the fake in the bag and the pull strings tightened, Gwen reached for a final thing from her belt. It was a small card, which she laid on the bottom of the drawer. A handwritten message was written on the card that read: "Done."

Gwen closed the drawer.

Fade Out.

End of Act Two

Act ThreeCut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Hallway – Later That Night

Confidently, Gwen strode out of the elevator onto the floor of the main sub-basement of Bureau Nine, carrying the string cloth bag with two security escorts trailing behind her.

They passed several workstations, receiving the occasional quick glance from the hard-working employees as they continued past them towards the stairs.

At the top of the stairs stood Mr. Felix. He had his hands clasped, and he wore an extremely proud smile. Standing beside him was another man in a suit whose eyes were transfixed on the bag.

Gwen ascended the small set of the stairs and stood before Mr. Felix. She brought the bag up in front of her and offered it to him. "I think this belongs to you," she said, a grin beginning to curl from her pert red lips.

Mr. Felix nodded. "Well done." He relieved Gwen of the bag. "Take the sphere down to Research and give it to Mr. Murray directly," he told the man and handed the bag to him. He quickly left along the balcony hallway and into an elevator. Mr. Felix turned back to Gwen and motioned to his office. "Please."

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office -- Continuous

Gwen walked into Mr. Felix’s office and took a seat in front of his desk.

"I must admit I didn’t expect you to be back so soon," Mr. Felix said as he closed the door. Privacy was not an issue considering his office was made of glass; it was just force of habit. "I take it everything went according to plan?" he finished as he sat down opposite her.

"Maybe it’s just ’cause I’m that good, but breaking and entering into the Watchers Council was easier than MGS’ing into Fort Knox," she said coolly as she folded her legs and sat forward, her curls falling over her shoulder.

He stared back, captivated at her achievements. "Just…outstanding. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful Bureau Nine is and, for that matter, how grateful I am."

"All in a day’s work, and a day’s work that I get paid for." She softly grinned, limbering her shoulders and flicking her hair back.

Mr. Felix chuckled. "Of course." Then he held up his finger and said, "Excuse me."

He slid his chair back and rose to his feet, wandering over to a cabinet on the back wall of his office. As he opened the doors, his Bluetooth earpiece beeped once. He pressed the earpiece while entering a combination into the safe inside the cabinet. The safe clicked, and from inside he pulled out a briefcase. As he did, the smile on his face began to fade.

"Yes, understood. Send them in," Mr. Felix replied through grit teeth.

Gwen looked over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, carefully watching him.

Mr. Felix ran his hands over the briefcase and closed the safe and the cabinet doors. "Fine, everything’s fine." He turned to her and walked back over to the desk. Standing over his chair, he laid the briefcase down, "Just some unfortunate news has come to my attention."

"Really?" Gwen pried, staring back at Mr. Felix unwaveringly.

He reciprocated the stare, his face devoid of emotion. The sound of the door opening behind her made Gwen cast a glance over her shoulder. Two large burly men entered the office.

Gwen couldn’t help the sarcastic smile that adorned her soft face as she looked at the two men. The smile stayed as she turned back to Mr. Felix.

"What is this?" she asked dryly.

"I think you know, Miss Raiden, and I have to say that I’m…surprised if not disappointed," Mr. Felix gave back calmly.

"Oh, I know what this is," she said as she waved her hands about her. "I just can’t believe these are the goons you sent to stop me."

"I don’t want trouble, Miss Raiden. All I want is to talk, nothing else, and if you would please go with these two gentlemen, we can sort this out amicably."

Gwen shook her head and stood up. "You see, I just don’t see that working out."

With that Gwen spun round and kicked the chair up in the air, and within a blink of an eye, she delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the seat in mid-air, launching it into the two heavies at the door.

Mr. Felix sharply backed away from the desk and slammed the button on his earpiece. "Security to my office immediately!"

Gwen ripped her gloves off and deactivated the chip on the small of her back. She looked at Mr. Felix with a snicker. "First rule of this game, never trust a thief," she said before heading out of the office.

"First rule of my game, never play a player," he responded.

One of the security guards was up again and swung at the back of Gwen’s head, but she didn’t miss a beat and slammed the heel of her boot up behind her into his groin. He fell to his knees, and Gwen elbowed him in the face, still facing Mr. Felix.

The door on the other side of the office burst open. She turned and thrust out her left hand, sending bolts of electricity across the office that lashed against the metal door frame. She intentionally missed the guards, but they took the warning shot and stumbled back onto the balcony.

Gwen looked to Mr. Felix and advanced on him, slipping one glove back on. He pressed his back against the wall, and with her protected hand she grabbed him by the collar and raised her bare palm up mere inches from his face.

"Consider yourself my…" Gwen’s eyes went wide, her pupils instantly dilating. She sluggishly let go of Mr. Felix and reached around with her gloved hand to the back of her neck. She winced as she pulled something out and brought her hand around to reveal a dart with a long thick needle. Her eyelids began to grow heavier. "What did…? You bastard."

Gwen’s eyes fluttered, and she fell back onto Mr. Felix’s desk. Standing in the doorway were four guards; one of them held a dart gun that was still aimed at where she had just been standing.

Mr. Felix stepped forward and straightened his suit and sorted out his collar and tie. He looked down at the slumbering Gwen, inspecting her with his eyes to make sure she was out.

"Be careful, her powers are active. Turn her on her back and re-activate her chip and get her down to holding immediately. I want to talk to her when she wakes up," Mr. Felix said coldly.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Computer Lab – Moments Later

Willow and Andrew sat side by side at two computer terminals, with Rowena, Robin and Jim standing behind them.

Their fingers furiously struck the keys, and multiple windows opened and closed on both of their monitors. At the bottom of the screen on both their terminals was a download bar that crawled along at a snail pace.

As they typed, they were caught unaware by a dialogue box that popped up, the message reading: "Download terminated."

"Willow? Andrew?" Rowena said worriedly with one arm wrapped around her waist and her other hand resting under her chin.

"I…I…" Willow stuttered, "Andrew, try the other frequencies. We’ve got to re-establish the connection now."

"On it," Andrew said as he concentrated typing a command into a DOS-like sub menu. "Nothing on one."

"Nothing on two," Willow sharply added.

"Can someone please tell us what’s going on?" Jim asked in an annoyed tone.

"We’ve lost the connection; the download’s been terminated," Willow gave back as she tried her best to get the connection back.

"How?" Robin said, sounding almost too frightened to ask.

"I doubt that they have transmitter dampeners that could cut our transmission; the port-hacking software would have taken care of that. Besides we were already into their database, so it’s gotta be something else," Andrew replied hastily.

"And not in Star Trek speak, please?" Jim barked, frustrated.

Willow turned her head to the side a little. "Basically it’s not us – the code and the hardware were perfect and triple-checked by the three of us. And it’s the Bureau Nine’s hardware and software because we’re like the hackers elite. The only thing it could be is that they found Gwen out, realized that the artifact was a fake, and physically destroyed it and the hardware inside."

"This isn’t good," Rowena stated the obvious. "What do we do?"

"We can’t leave her there. We have to go in," Willow said.

Rowena shook her head. "We may be able to get to the front door, but their sub-levels?"

"She put her ass on the line coming to us. I trust her," Willow defended.

"I do too. I believe she’s sincere, but I don’t know how we’re going to get in," Rowena answered.

"Well, we’ve got to do something. Send in the Black Ops and a squad of slayers to retrieve her, nothing more, nothing less," Robin proposed.

"I agree," Jim said, "What about schematics? I don’t suppose they were in the files you pulled off their servers?"

Willow gave a disagreeing nod, then her face lit up. "Marissa!"

"Just what I was thinking," Robin agreed. "I’ll go speak to her."

"Right. I’ll run the plan past Buffy and then you go get Faith and Kennedy and prep the squad," Jim told Robin as both of them headed to the door.

"Do you think she’s okay?" Andrew asked hopefully.

Willow sighed and looked back to her computer. "We can only imagine what Bureau Nine is capable of."

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Holding Room – Later

Gwen was in a chair in the middle of the room, head hanging down and her hair curtaining her face. Her bare wrists were shackled down by her sides.

She began to groan as she came round. Groggily she raised her begrudging head, blinking away the hazy clouds in front of her eyes.

"Whoa, that was some cocktail." She cracked her neck to the side and went to bring up her hand and discovered herself shackled to the chair. She shook the shackles and looked to see the chains locked onto clips on either side of her on the floor.

She looked down at her bare wrists and clenched her fists. Nothing.

"Your control chip is active," Mr. Felix made himself known. He came around and leaned up against the wall directly in front of Gwen. "And as a precaution against you re-activating the chip, we’ve lined the shackles with rubber so you can’t melt the metal."

Gwen threw her arms down and gave up. "And here I thought we’d be having a civilized chat over tea."

"That was my intention – save the tea, but you waved that option by attacking my guards, and the ‘self defense’ card can’t be played, by the way."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Thanks Colombo, the clues were there." She gave him a sarcastic smile.

"But I still want to talk," he said as he pushed off the wall and took a step forward. "I want you to know, Miss Raiden, that I am not an interrogator, and I’m not about to spring Jack Bauer on you, nor am I going to get someone else in here to interrogate you. I’m not that kind of man. I am not sadistic, and I have a conscious, and I’m not in the business of harming another human being. I won’t stand for it, and it is not how I run Bureau Nine."

"Well, that’s good to know ’cause for a minute there I was getting worried," she scoffed.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Miss Raiden, and I don’t care for it, but I can appreciate why you use it."

She sat forward in her chair; the chains went taut, preventing her from moving too far forward. "We can skirt around with this light-hearted banter, or we can just jump straight into it ’cause I’m telling you, I don’t have the time for this."

"Yes, I’m sure you don’t. Neither do I. I can’t tell you just how disappointed I am in you," he started.

"Not looking for your respect, buddy."

"I thought you were a woman of honor..."

"You couldn’t be more wrong," she interjected.

"…and yet you do something like this," Mr. Felix finished. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you double-cross us and give us a phony sphere?"

"‘Phony sphere’...bet ya can’t say that ten times fast," she said with a laugh.

Felix ignored her jibe. "Why would you bug us? Is this all some elaborate plan of yours to swindle more money out of us?"

Gwen just grinned. "Mayyybe."

Mr. Felix shook his head. "Please, Miss Raiden."

"Whatcha gonna do? Torture me?" Her grin broadened into a large mocking smile.

"If it’s more money you want, then it’s more money you’ll get. I…we need that sphere, Miss Raiden."

"I’m sure you do, but you’re not going about the right way to get it." She shook her shackles pointedly.

"I may be naïve, but I am not stupid. And if I am to entrust my faith in your promise that you are in fact an honorable woman, then I need to be convinced that you are not going to use your powers to—" Mr. Felix stopped mid-sentence, his mouth poised in the position of forming another word. He looked at Gwen and frowned. "Umm…excuse me."

Gwen wore a look of perplexity as she watched Mr. Felix stride towards the door. He placed his palm on the scanner pad on the wall beside the door, and it clicked open.

The door shut, leaving Gwen alone in the gun-metal gray room. She struggled against her restraints and even tried to pull her arms forward in the attempt to snap the chains from the clips using sheer strength.

Her face went red, and she held her breath, but she collapsed back in the chair to no avail. She was stuck in there. She looked down at her shackled wrists and let them swing freely.

"Crap."

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office – Later

Mr. Felix swirled his red Rooibos tea in his cup, as though the act would help re-warm the tepid drink. He frowned slightly at the imposing text before him. A sudden knock made him look up sharply.

"Yes, come, come!" he said, expectantly. "Ethan! Good, I’m glad you got my message. Please come here."

Ethan only half-smirked at Felix’s welcome, entered, and took a seat without a word, eyeing the Codex on Felix’s desk.

"Yes," Felix said, "well, I may not be very good at translating these things, but I’m better than the ‘underling’ assigned to it. Made a real mess of it, didn’t he? So, I decided to give it a go myself."

Ethan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

"Those things are rather unhealthy..." Felix said disapprovingly. Ethan’s quick look made him blush, but then a smile was back on his face. "At any rate, I think what’s needed is a power source to activate the sphere – and it’s right here under our noses! I really can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before, but then, this really isn’t my ‘sphere’ of expertise, is it?" he chuckled.

Ethan, head tilted and cigarette smoldering, blinked once at Felix’s exuberance, but said nothing.

"Right, well...things have strangely worked to our benefit, even if we don’t have the sphere – at least not yet. But I need your help."

Ethan smirked. "So then, I am here for a reason..." he said.

"Oh, my yes!" Felix said. "I absolutely need to confer with you and to ask you to help me clear a few things up. One, for instance, is this power source. If I’ve read correctly, it needs to be tremendous – something quite unfathomable – in order to activate the sphere. I think the power that is needed might be something other than—"

Felix stopped in mid-sentence. Ethan, cigarette pinched between his fingers, was staring absently at a bottle of good scotch that sat off to one side on the liquor cabinet. Three shot glasses were turned upside down around it. He looked up suddenly, locking eyes with Felix.

Ethan smiled at Bureau Nine’s leader and asked casually. "Got any scotch?"

April 23, 2002

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Wesley’s Apartment – Evening

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce sat back wearily in his wooden desk chair, the legs creaking as his weight shifted against the back. The top of it dug into his shoulder blades. He let a small groan of fatigue escape him as he brought his hands up and rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes.  

"Bugger all," he muttered, leaning forward quickly and causing the chair to rock once. 

He reached for the bottle of rotgut scotch and the chipped shot glass that sat on his disorganized desk – the tabletop strewn with various open books and pieces of paper – and poured himself another drink. 

Staring vacantly into space, he absently brought the glass up to his lips. The smell of the cheap liquor stung his nose, and he curled his lip at it. Then he began downing it. 

A sudden hard knocking at his front door startled him, and he half-choked. "Dammit…" he muttered as he stood up.  

Cut To:Int.Los Angeles – Outside Wesley’s Apartment – Same Time

Ethan Rayne turned in the hallway, putting his back to the unanswered door, as the door to one of the apartments on the opposite side of the hall opened. He watched, fascinated, as a willowy youth with spiked blue and green hair, red leather hot-pants, and a fishnet tanktop exited the apartment and walked towards him. 

He ogled shamelessly as the young boy stomped along in thigh-high black leather boots; he even grinned lewdly at him as he walked by. The boy seemed not to notice, then gave Ethan the finger just as he passed. 

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up, and his grin widened. He opened his mouth to say something to the retreating youth’s shapely rear, but the door behind him suddenly opened up, creating a vacuum that made Ethan’s coat hem sway. 

Ethan, only half-turned, continuing to watch the boy as the youth neared the stairway. "Thought there was no one at home," Ethan said, not looking at Wesley.

Wesley stared unemotionally at him. "Mr. Rayne?"

"You were expecting maybe Rupert Giles?"

Wesley didn’t offer his hand. He merely stared at Ethan’s profile. "I’m—"

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," Ethan said, turning his head and smirking. "I know." Looking Wesley up and down, he added, "You have the look." Then he walked past him into the apartment. 

Cut To:Int.Los Angeles – Wesley’s Apartment – Continuous

Ethan stood in the center of the un-kempt room, surveying it while Wesley shut the door. 

"What do you mean, the–"

"That look of constipated anxiety and," Ethan turned to him, his mouth curled in a patronizing grin, "complete and utter ruin. The look of someone far older than," he hesitated, then shrugged, "you actually are." 

Ethan began to unfasten his overcoat. "All the best watchers develop it," he continued, coyly. "But only the really bad ones develop it as early in life as you."

Wesley stared balefully at him. "Don’t bother to remove your coat, Mr. Rayne. You won’t be around long."

Ethan stopped tugging at his coat sleeve and met the hard gaze dead on. "From the look of it," he crooned softly, "neither will you." He smiled blandly.

The ex-watcher’s expression remained unchanged, but Ethan saw Wesley’s shoulders tighten and his fingers curl slowly up into his palm.

Suddenly Wesley smirked. "Yes, well…" he said, motioning to the couch, "enough pleasantries. I have something that—"

"That I’m very interested in. Or I wouldn’t be here," Ethan said directly, still standing. "The question, Wesley, is what are you interested in?"

"I said in my message that I would give you the Asurian Anthologies if you agreed to take the job – no questions asked and no backing out."

"And all I said was that I agreed to take the Anthologies."

"If you don’t want them—"

"Oh, I want them. Very much. But I’ve lived this long without them and managed to do quite well for myself." He looked around the living room again, then back at Wesley and smirked. "Better than you, I’d say. But then, for all I know," he glanced from side to side at the untidiness, "this is poorhouse chic."

"I don’t have to deal with thi—"

"You do if you want my help," Ethan’s silken voice drifted softly. "If you want…what you want. All I want, besides the Asurian Anthologies, is to know what it is you want." 

Wesley stared blackly at the dark mage. Ethan smiled back, closed-mouth, and then flourishing his coat out behind him, he sat down easily in one of the armchairs. Elegantly crossing his legs, he looked at the liquor bottle and shot glass on the desk, then up coyly at the ex-watcher. "Got any scotch?" he asked casually.

Wesley walked over to his desk and picked up the bottle and the shot glass. He dumped his own half-drunk measure into the wastebasket, poured a fresh drink, and held it out to Ethan. Ethan’s eyes, never leaving Wesley’s face, twinkled in the gloom as he took the glass.

"I need you to open a portal," Wesley said, turning from the gaze. 

Ethan said nothing and took a delicate sip of scotch. He grimaced and looked down at the glass.

"I need you to open a portal to another dimension long enough for me to get in and retrieve something. Something I…lost." Wesley turned and faced him again. "I need enough time to get in and get out, but then the portal must be closed as soon as I’m back through. There will be...someone…on my heels."

"Well, if she’s attractive enough, why not let her through? Or maybe you don’t find the ladies attractive…?" 

Wesley waited a beat. "Get out."

"What?"

"I said get out. You’re wasting my time. Tom Hillary said you’d be the best man for the job, but that I’d have to put up with your cheek. Sorry. But I’m fresh out of patience for cheek these days."

Ethan saw the change, not in Wesley’s face, but in his eyes: a dangerous, forbidding look. Ethan’s smile faded, and his eyes narrowed at the ex-watcher. "I’ll do it. But only – only on one condition. You tell me what this lost item is. You needn’t tell me how you lost it or why it’s so bloody important to you. All I want to know is what. And then I’ll do the job."

Wesley stared back silently.

Ethan sighed and downed the rest of his scotch in a single swallow. "Tom Hillary was wrong," Ethan said, standing. "I’m not the best man for the job. I’m the only one." He held the shot glass out in front of Wesley and let it go. Wesley caught it blithely. "Cheers," Ethan said with a smile. He turned, and Wesley watched him gather his coat about him and head for the front door. Ethan opened the door and was moving across the threshold.

"A child."

Ethan stopped, his hand still on the doorknob.

"Whose child?" his voice came back, darkly.

Wesley didn’t answer.

He turned and peered at him, smirking. "Hmmm…not yours, I think. And what’s so special about this child that you’d go to what? Hell for it? There’ve been untold numbers of children taken to hell dimensions. The dead ones are the lucky ones. So what makes this one different? Hm?"

"Do you want the Anthologies or not?"

Ethan’s smile faded then broadened. "You’re not very much fun about all this. Rather a bit too serious, frankly. Sucking the enjoyment out of the whole blasted thing. It’s a wonder you’re not still with the Council – running it, in fact – with that kind of—"

"The child is the son of a...friend. Ex-friend. I was taking care of him when he was stolen, kidnapped from me, and taken to...Quor’toth."

Ethan’s eyes popped open, and his face was taut. "Bloody sodding hell. You’re dealing with Daniel Holtz aren’t you?

"You know—?"

Ethan smirked. "Now what kind of a dark mage would I be if I didn’t know who Holtz is and where he’d got off to? The man’s mere presence causes worlds to collide – or at least quake and burn," he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. "And it’s all quite unintended. In fact, he thinks he’s doing the world good! That’s the sheer beauty of—"

"Look! If this goes the way I’ve planned, Holtz won’t be coming back into this world or any other. Ever. Understand?"

"And if what you’ve planned fails, he’ll be the one on your heels when you return, right?"

Wesley closed his mouth tightly and glared at Ethan. 

"Right. I’ll take the job. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I couldn’t care less for the git you’re after. But to go one-on-one with Holtz, that would be bit of fun. But it won’t be easy, opening the portal to Quor’toth." He frowned and thought a moment. "That will take a bit of doing – a bit of power. More than just one dark mage – even I – can produce."

Wesley’s shoulders sank. "I can’t afford to hire anyone else."

"No," Ethan said emphatically. "But I can. Is Tom Hillary still with the Council?"

"No. He’s fallen out with them. Didn’t care much for the way they ran things."

"No, he never did..." 

"Left the Council about a year ago, under rather ‘unpleasant’ circumstances."

"I’ll need to speak with him. Can you arrange it?"

"What do you need to spea—"

"Can you arrange it?" Ethan said coldly, done playing.

Wesley’s eyes narrowed at Ethan. Then the ex-watcher turned, went to his nightstand, and wrote something down on a piece of paper. He handed it to Ethan.

Ethan took the paper from Wesley and looked down at it. "Oh bloody hell!" he exclaimed, disgusted. 

Wesley looked at him puzzled. "What? What is it?"

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He’s back living with his mum again," he said.

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Main Sub-Basement – Mr. Felix’s Office – Later

Ethan sat in the midst of several reference works all about decoding the Codex. He turned a tissue-thin page in the Codex itself, pushed his glasses back up his nose, and re-read the final passage from the troublesome part. He checked his handwritten notes against it, frowned, tossed the reading glasses on the table, and sat back, sighing.

The ashtray before him was littered with several cigarette butts. He ground the latest in it as he looked up at Felix.

"Well?" Felix asked tentatively.

"It’s electrical."

"Pardon?"

"Your power source. It needs to be immense and electrical," Ethan said, rubbing his eyes.

Felix jumped up like a child just given a pony. "Well that’s…" He smiled broadly and breathed out a couple of elated sighs. "That’s just wonderful – truly wonderful news!" He turned, hands clenched in victorious fists, then stopped. Slowly, he turned his head and peered back over his shoulder at Ethan.

Ethan’s eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing him.

"You’re – you’re sure?" Felix asked warily.

"I’m not in the business of guess-work," Ethan said, his annoyance showing. "If that’s what you want, there’s a world full of second-guessers and charlatans—"

"No, no! Please, Ethan, I meant no offense. It’s just that...well, this is the realization of a – a dream for me, and I – you’ll forgive me if I – "

"What kind of dream?" Ethan asked directly. "Forgive me," he said, conciliatory, "now it’s I who means no offense, but when a man of such accomplishment and stature as yourself begins to speak of his ‘dreams’...well, that’s something to sit up and...give a listen to." He smiled graciously at his employer.

Felix’s smile faded. "I...should probably...rephrase," he said carefully, then turned fully to face the sorcerer. "I meant that I had hopes that we would find the key to activating the sphere, and now...fate seems to have stepped in and provided us with just the thing. I had a hunch that the power we need might be electrical since so much of it is needed."

Ethan’s expression reflected bland acceptance of Felix’s words.

"The problem is we haven’t got the real sphere," Felix continued. "The one that was procured on our behalf is a fake."

"So you’re back at square one then? No idea where to find the sphere."

"Oh, no, we know where it is. The fake was to throw us off the trail. I’m sure that the real one is still at the Council," Felix said, then added quietly, "the Cleveland Council."

"Hold on!" Ethan stopped him, stern-faced. "The real sphere is at the

Cleveland Council. Meaning – you’ve been once and are going back, to take the sphere either by force or by guile?"

"Well...yes, actually..." Felix said hesitantly, hedging against Ethan Rayne’s well-known connection to Rupert Giles.

"And what good will it do you once you have it?" Ethan asked smoothly. "Without a ‘power source,’ I mean."

Felix stood still, smiling nervously.

Ethan sensed the man’s sudden mistrust and outright fear of him. "After all," he said silkily, helping himself to another shot of scotch, "you yourself said the power needed is immense. And now we’re sure it needs to be electrical. But..." Ethan’s voice trailed off.

"What is it, Ethan?" Felix asked cautiously.

Ethan frowned. "There’s more than one source of electricity in the known universe..." he said softly as he stared at the Codex.

April 23, 2002

Flashback To:Int:Los Angeles – Motel Room – Evening

"Y – Yes, Missus. That’s right. ‘Little’ Ethan." Ethan rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, Missus, I’m just fine. No, I don’t keep catching that awful cold each winter, thank you..." Ethan pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead in exasperation as the old woman’s voice on the other end of the phone chattered on pleasantly. "Yes, you’re right, Missus Hillary, that was quite a while ago. Yes, and I’m all grown up now…but tell me is Tom there? Tom. Tom, your son. Tommy-Toms!" he nearly shouted. "That’s right. Yes. Thank you, Missus. Goodbye."

Ethan drew a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and stuck it between his lips. He reached into his pocket again for the lighter and was just lighting up when Thomas Hillary got on the line.

"Tommy-To – uh," Ethan winced at himself, "Tom! Ethan." He and Hillary barely exchanged quick greetings when Ethan said, "Tom, I’ve taken the job with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Did you know what portal he wants opened? Quor’toth. Yes! Yes, that’s what I told him. But, he has something I can make use of, so…well, we all have our price, don’t we? Now, really Tom, that’s unfair. I do have my standards, you know! Well that’s the rub. It’s going to

require some extra special…power. Non-mystical power. I’ve done a little research and a helluva lot of guess-work, to be honest, but I’m going to need a lot more raw power than I can generate alone. Electrical power – current, actually."

Hillary spoke for a moment, and Ethan shook his head. "No, not possible by machine. This has to be natural, and it has to be bigger than anything even a score of both witches and generators could produce. It’s got to be direct, natural, and from a single source. Even if there was a coven that could do it, it still wouldn’t work. There’d be too many energy fluctuations within the circle itself. Hence the need for a single source."

Ethan pulled the cigarette from his lips. "What’s that? A Thief? What on earth good would that do? Even if I could steal the ener – What’s that? Wait, give me that name again..."

April 27, 2002

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Bar – Late Evening

Ethan and Wesley stared across at each other as the cocktail waitress set their drinks down on the table in the dark and foul-smelling bar.

As she left, Ethan glanced left at the nearly empty room and its somber clientele. No one paid any attention to the two sinister-looking men in the booth. Just to be certain, Ethan smoothly raised his hand in a soft, circular wave, and he and Wesley sat shrouded by a glamour. To the naked eye, they weren’t even in the room.

Paying no attention, Wesley gulped his own drink down. He grimaced as the scotch burned his throat. "And I thought my stuff was bad..." he commented.

"It is. But here we at least have the added charm of ambience," Ethan replied.

Wesley frowned and looked away, disinterested.

"I’ve got all that I need. And a source of energy," Ethan said directly.

"What source?"

"Not your worry. My assistant and I will handle it."

"And I’ll be there to help until I step into the portal."

"No, you won’t. You’ll be in a separate location nearby. I’ll call you when we’re ready for you to—"

"No! The whole plan is that I go into the portal as soon as it opens up. And to do that, I have to be there."

"Can’t have it. I can’t have you anywhere near when we open the portal. Unless, of course, you want to cause the collapse of this dimension. Then you needn’t worry about bringing back the git, and I won’t really need the Asurian Anthologies, will I? I can’t have you about until after the portal is opened."

"Why not? It’s not as if I’m un-initiated! I know what I’m doing. Much as I hate admitting it, I was a full-fledged watcher, you know."

"Were. There’s a reason you’re not anymore. And there’s a reason you ‘lost’ that child and an even bigger reason you want it back. And it all really comes down to just one reason, my scruffy-faced friend! A reason that has nothing to do with your warm, noble intentions or sense of right and wrong."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, it’s to do with raw emotion. You’ve got it and in no small measure. The forces I’m applying are being powered by immense energy. And to keep it all under control and actually get the portal open is going to take all my powers to harness and direct. Now consider adding to it the wildly unstable emotional energy you generate just by being awake and – well that would be the proverbial monkey wrench in the works, wouldn’t it?"

"I’m there or the whole thing’s off."

"Your presence will tip the scales. I don’t know about you – though I’m getting a good idea – but I’d like to survive the opening and closing of the gateway to ’Toth."

"I guess you don’t want the Asurian Anthologies then."

Ethan grabbed the back of Wesley’s wrist and glared hard at the ex-watcher. Then he spoke in a calm whisper. "I don’t want to precipitate a disaster I won’t survive."

The two men glared at each other as someone approached their booth to sit down. They both turned and looked at the drunken patron who got an unusually unpleasant sensation as soon as he came in contact with the outer edges of the glamour. The man looked as though he felt sick, then turned away and walked to the next booth.

Ethan and Wesley looked back at one another again. Wesley sighed resignedly. "Where will I be then?"

"I’ll have a location picked out for you. At the right moment, I’ll send you a telepathic communiqué, but you’ll have to move quickly and be sure that you..."

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office – Later

"You’re saying it could be something other than electro-magnetic energy?"

Ethan looked over the tops of his glasses at Felix, the Codex open before him again. "It’s all electro-magnetic," he said as though explaining to a schoolboy. "But the source of it—"

"Could be magical," Felix put in.

"Or," Ethan said, his finger lying below a single line in the passage he’d read, "biological. At least," he said with a smile and shrug, "it says so here."

He watched as Felix’s face lit up in the same little-boy delight it had earlier, then noted how it fell as Felix caught himself. One corner of Ethan’s mouth quirked up.

"Well, Ethan," Felix said. "I’m so glad you’ve worked it out."

"Doesn’t do us much good though, does it?" Ethan offered, sounding disheartened. "Not possible to find it through man-made means – generators and such." He smiled lightly at Felix, and his reading glasses almost slipped off his nose. He pushed them back up, then sipped at his scotch. "Can’t use witches or sorcerers or spells to produce something of that nature," Ethan continued conversationally. "Even if you could, say...‘steal it’ from somewhere, what could possibly produce that much electrical current? And, come to think of it, why would a little, round ball need such a great, big power source to make it work?"

"Ethan," Felix cut in quickly, "there is someone we’re holding – well, um, yes, holding. A prisoner. Downstairs. In the holding cells."

"Sound reasoning," Ethan deadpanned.

"I wonder if you might have a look in on – that is, whether you could feel this prisoner out. See if she has any innate powers – magical or – or otherwise..."

"Have one of your Underlings—"

"They’re not up to it. You saw the mess the last one made of the translation...Please, Ethan, I need your expertise, your talents on this."

Ethan looked sourly at him. The eyeglasses slid down further, and Ethan pulled them off.

"I need to be certain about her, Ethan. You could provide me with that. My ‘Underlings’ would only be guessing."

Ethan’s eyes sparkled coldly back at him. Felix looked away uncomfortably.

"Well," Ethan said, standing, "I did say I’m not in the business of guesswork." His smile was gone. "Have you ever heard an orchestra play?" he asked suddenly.

"Hm? What?" Felix asked, confused.

"An orchestra. You’ve seen one, I’m sure...all the musicians in their places, playing on their instruments...each one bowing, or blowing, or banging away?" Ethan caught himself and smirked at his own words. "Well, you get the idea. And only one conductor. He plays nothing. He just stands in front and waves his arms about and the players do his bidding, without question, without even knowing, perhaps, if they’ll get to the end of the piece – in one piece."

"I’m not sure I—"

"When I was boy, I used to wonder what would happen if, suddenly, the players refused to play the music the conductor’s way...what could he do, poor man, if the trombonist played a duet with the harpist or the woodwinds and strings refused to play at the same time...?" Ethan looked unemotionally at Felix. "I mean, after all," Ethan continued, his tone disquietingly unpleasant, "without the players, a conductor is merely a madman waving his arms at the world." Ethan smiled at Felix and laughed a hard, sudden laugh. "Well, then, let me go have a look at your prisoner. Maybe she’s a player, too," he said and exited the room.

Felix stepped back until he felt the edge of his desk press against the backs of his thighs. Then he leaned back, steadying himself with a hand on the desktop and exhaled.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Office – Moments Later

Desk drawers were pulled open, and frantic hands reached and rummaged inside as Ethan stood over his desk breathlessly muttering "C’mon" to himself.

He squatted down and opened his bottom drawer. Pulling and lifting up papers, files, and books he finally found a silver medallion tucked away at the very back of the drawer, half-hidden under a box of staples.

"Hallo..." He smiled, holding it up in front of him. Then he slammed the drawer shut.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Holding Room – Moments Later

An electronic beep echoed through the hollow room as the light on the door flashed green.

Ethan opened the door to find his suspicions confirmed: Gwen Raiden sat shackled to a chair in the middle of the room, her head hung low, her hair covering her face.

Ethan’s eyes fixed on Gwen as he cautiously stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The sound of the door snapping back into its lock made Gwen look up with a start.

The look on her face was the epitome of astonishment. "Ethan?" she said uncertainly.

Ethan stared back, his mouth hanging open. "Bloody..." His voice trailed off as he stood staring at the sight of her chained to the chair. "Gwen...?" he breathed. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw a security camera above the door and no one behind him.

He hesitated for a long moment, a worried look on his face. He reached into his trouser pocket and produced the silver medallion.

"Dissimulo," he said as he held the medallion at arm’s length.

The face of the medallion began to glow, and a purple wave of light exploded out from the trinket.

Ethan stumbled back against the wall in a sweat, his breathing deep and shallow.

"E-Ethan?" Gwen called anxiously.

Ethan took in some steady breaths as he raised his hand and put the medallion back in his pocket. "I’m…I’m okay. Just took a lot out of me."

"What was that? A glamour?"

"A very big glamour," Ethan said as he stood up upright, shaking his head, blinking a couple of times, still obviously disoriented.

"Ethan..." Gwen said, both relieved and perplexed, "...what...what the hell are you doing here?"

"Giving so that others may live," he joked as he came closer. He stood over her, uncertain what to do as his hand came up and hovered near her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Gwen closed her eyes and gave a nod, letting out a soft breath. "Yes, I’m fine." She glanced at his hand and then looked back up at him. "I’m ‘fine’," she emphasized with a firm look in her eyes.

Ethan sighed and brought his hand down. "Here now," he said as he pulled his shirtsleeve down over his right hand and dabbed her brow with it.

She smiled and leaned into his gentle hand. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "You do know you’re ruining another Italian silk shirt," she smirked, her words lined with a slight laugh.

"I’ll make an exception just this once," he said, smiling faintly. He raised his other hand and began to lightly touch her hair.

She pulled away and looked up at him, throwing her hair back. Her smile grew thin, and her face wore a look of resolve. "Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what are you doing here?!"

"I – " Ethan began then stopped. He huffed out a laugh. "I work for these blokes."

"You can’t be serious."

Ethan gave her an indignant look. "When have you ever known me to be serious?!" Then he added with a mischievous smile, "But yes, I am."

Gwen slowly shook her head, kissing her teeth in disapproval. "Well, I hope they treat you better than they do their guests; their rich and dangerous guest, I might add," she said with a shake of her shackles.

"Oh, right. Well then," he began to raise his hand. "This is an easy fix!" he opened his mouth to chant, then stopped. "Oh, Bugger." Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled the medallion back out and held it up before him.

He raised his hand again, once more preparing to chant, then stopped. He surveyed the chains that held Gwen to the chair. He slowly lowered the medallion as a smile spread across his face and a sly look came into his eyes. He stared back at Gwen and raised one eyebrow at her.

Gwen looked at him, bemused, and waved her chains again. Then her eyes widened, and she made an ‘O’ shape with her pert red lips. She arched her brow and bit her bottom lip. She flung her head back, and her hair fell behind the back of the chair, her eyes sparkling as she stared back into his.

Ethan grinned broadly, his own eyes twinkling at her mischievously. He ran one hand along her PVC-clad shoulder as he stepped in front of her. "You know," he said, whispering seductively, "it’s been years since I’ve done it...with a rubber."

She lurched up to lock her lips with his, but was pulled back down by the taut shackles. Gwen pouted and extended her foot, rubbing the inside of his left leg. She wrapped her foot round his calf and nudged him forward. "Well, now aren’t you lucky? Rubber and chains. All very S&M. And what with the added danger of being caught…" She trailed off, staring up at him devilishly.

"The danger’s in not being caught..." He moved forward at her urging, his legs on either side of her, and placed both hands on the back of the chair on either side of her shoulders. He arched down, his face very close to hers. "Hmmm...you’re all charged up. I can smell the ozone oozing off you."

He continued to look at her as his smile faded. Suddenly, his lips were on hers, pressing firmly against her mouth. He held for a moment, savoring the familiar suppleness. He deepened the kiss.

Fade Out.

 

End of Act Three

Act FourSummer 2003

Flashback To:Int.Vancouver – Hotel – Bedroom – Night

Ethan stared, preoccupied, at the ceiling. He let his hand course lightly over Gwen’s bare shoulder as he held her beside him. "You know," he said, not looking at her, "I never thought we’d be able to..." He stopped and smiled faintly. "At the risk of sounding foolish, I’m ever so glad we can...touch."

Gwen had her eyes shut with the most content smile gracing her face. She nuzzled down in his secure hold, her chin lying on his chest. "Me too," she said, lifting her hand and running her nails across his bare chest.

He shut his eyes tightly and swallowed as she dragged her nails over his skin, leaving red welts in their wake. He let a low groan escape him on a shuddering breath.

He inhaled deeply and said, "But how...I mean I understand you have some device or gizmo that makes it possible, but...?"

Gwen opened her eyes and laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand lightly. "I got a heads-up on this experimental bio-metric device designed and created for black ops. To cut a long story short, it regulates all body chemistry, and from what I could find out about it and from what I hoped, it

would short me out. Make me less-freaky at a flick of a switch." She leaned forward and kissed his chest.

"How did you get it?" Ethan asked, sounding genuinely interested.

She leaned back up and returned to his hold. "It was being stored at a mansion up in the hills. They were holding a party, and I managed to snag a couple of tickets from a shifty…" she smirked, "…lackey. I got in with the help of a friend and managed to steal it, obviously. It works like a charm and allows me to..." She slid her hand under the covers and grinned.

Ethan lay perfectly still; only one corner of his mouth quirked up at her touch. Suddenly he rolled on top of her, pinning her with every inch of his body. He grabbed both of her wrists and pinned her arms, palms up, beside her head. "Well..." he smiled. His face was so near to hers that she felt his lips brush her mouth as he spoke. "It’s nice to initiate yet another fledgling into the pleasures – and pains – of adulthood."

The cheeky smile on Gwen’s face began to fade. "Yeah, about that..."

Ethan cocked his head sideways, still smiling, but looking puzzled. His own smile faded. When she didn’t look back at him, his face grew dark. "What?" he asked her, his hands tightening a bit around her wrists.

"It’s...Ethan I have to be honest with you." She tried to move, but he held her down. She gave a weak smile. "I...you aren’t my first." As she formed her words and they left her lips, her eyes tinged with a glassy shimmer.

Ethan glared at her and tightened his grip even more. He raised himself up until he was arched above her and looking down at her, only their hips locked together. His breath blew hot and heavy on her neck in short steady bursts. His eyes had gone round and almost black. There was silence in the room for a long moment, and then Gwen felt Ethan’s hands relax a little and saw that his eyes were a little brighter. Ethan lowered himself until he was on her again. His face still serious, he looked deeply at her. "Well, saved me the trouble, anyway."

"Don’t…please don’t," she said, reaching out and stroking his face with the back of her hand. "When I got the chip, I was in a situation, and one thing lead to another, and...it meant nothing."

Ethan smirked. "As, apparently, do I."

"Oh shut up. I don’t even consider that my first time because it wasn’t with someone that I—" She cut herself short, and they stared back at one another. She took a deep breath in through her nose; her mouth stayed

closed as if to stop the words from getting out. "I didn’t feel anything for him...nothing. This...this is my first time. Please, Ethan, don’t be this way."

"Bugger all," Ethan said sharply. He rolled off her smoothly and turned on his side, his back to her. "Don’t act like it’s my first time!" There was silence in the room, and he thought he heard an ever so slight sniffle. More quietly, he added, "You know you could have come to get me. I would have – I’d have helped you get your bloody chip!"

Gwen wiped a finger under both her eyes. "You were halfway around the world last I heard from you," she replied, sounding a little hoarse. She cleared her throat and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"There aren’t many I would have come back for. Not from halfway ’round the world. But you—"

"There wasn’t time to wait," she continued hastily. "The party was my only chance to get in, and the chip would have be gone the day after. I was desperate, and I had to act…and before you say anything, I wasn’t desperate to lay on my back with him. You can’t tell me that you haven’t ever been swept up in the moment." He didn’t reply. "But this isn’t about you. It’s about me, and it just happened, and I’m...I’m sorry."

Ethan turned over to face her. His eyes were cold and his face set. "Don’t be sorry," he said flatly. "Sorry is meaningless. People run around sorry for things, but they still do them, don’t they?" He watched her blink more tears away, though she looked composed in her resolve. Finally, he reached his hand out and placed it against her face. "Sorry doesn’t matter. Just—" He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, roughly, on the mouth and pulled away. When she didn’t protest, he kissed her again, gently and deeply.

As their lips parted, Gwen pulled back to look him in the eye. "Thank you," she said softly, "and even if it doesn’t matter, I am sorry. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you." She caressed his face with her fingers and ran her hand through his hair, all the while gazing deep into his eyes. "Say we’ll always be together, at least in our hearts. Even a memory will do."

Ethan stared back hard at her for a moment, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled back tightly. Then he smirked. "Memories?" he said, his voice quiet and low. "Memories are all I ever keep..."

He leaned into her and kissed her once again. She reciprocated the kiss, which grew into a passionate embrace as Ethan rolled her onto her back and rested on top of her.

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Holding Room – Resume

Gwen’s eyes opened as they shared their kiss. She frowned slightly, and as they continued, she brought her head back, ending their kiss.

She stared up at him pensively for a brief moment and then quickly averted her gaze to the bland wall to her right. Ethan looked back at her mystified as he stood back upright.

"The kiss...it’s reserved. For someone else," Gwen said faintly, hurt.

Ethan swallowed hard and replied quizzically. "I don’t know what gives you that—"

Her eyes darted back to his. "I hope she loves you," she said, her voice lackluster. She sniffed, shook her head, her hair falling back over her shoulders. "So...you gonna tell me now why you’re here, or do I have to deduce? I am quite the Jessica Fletcher."

"I'm subcontracting. Been hard to find work lately. All these hacks running amuck, taking all the good jobs. Bureau Nine offered me a good salary for a little...research."

"Really? A consultant?" She sounded intrigued, though with a hint of sarcasm. "Cushy job, cushy pad, nice pay check? Who’d have ever thought that you’d be doing a Dolly and be nine-to-five-ing it? Hey, you got an office too?"

"No." Ethan smiled. "Something better." Gwen raised a brow. "And you?" he picked up brightly. "Working from a rubber room these days?"

Gwen snorted a laugh. "No, Tahiti. I finally relocated permanently. L.A.’s so three years ago. Still freelance. Someone puts out the call, and I come a running for the right price."

They looked at one another, neither one pushing the point.

"Right then," Ethan said quickly. "Let’s get you out of here before this glamour gives out."

Ethan took her left hand in his and slid a catch up that released the metal band that bound her wrist to the shackles. He did the same for her right hand.

Gwen stood up and rubbed her wrists, sweaty from the thick rubber lining of the band. "Thanks." She gave him a nod. "C’mon."

They made their way to the door, and he opened it, looking around. The hallway was clear, the glamour wavering. She walked past him, and as she did, he grabbed her by the arm, the rubber squeaking in his hands. "Gwen..." She turned and looked at him. "How's your memory?" he asked and kissed her gently.

She returned his kiss, and when they broke away, she gazed up at him with an arched brow and a sly smile. "As good as ever." She looked out into the hallway and took a step outside. "This is your place, you lead the way."

They exited just as the glamour winked out.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Command Center – Night

"We know that the Bureau Nine offices are located downtown in Public Square," Robin said to the large group of slayers standing around the command center. "Again going with the ‘nothing to hide, we do this for the public’ vibe, corroborating the GPRS coordinates from the last transmission of the tracking device inside the sphere."

Faith and Kennedy stood on either side of Robin at the front of room, with a wall of plasma screen monitors behind displaying various schematics and satellite surveillance shots.

"Marissa has confirmed to us that there are several sub-basements directly beneath their public offices," Faith said. "She has also confirmed that the heart of their operation is in these sub-basements and that Gwen would be down there in one of their holding rooms or cells located on the fourth sub-basement."

"Certainly putting a lot of faith into what she says, Faith," Marie added with her arms folded against her chest.

"She’s not a slayer anymore. She’s got literally nothing left, nothing to live for, but she’s got one thing going for her – she’s got power over Bureau Nine because of what she knows," Robin stepped forward.

"Yeah, but she’s also got power over us too," Marie continued. "She’s got the goods, and she knows that we want what she’s got. All she has to do is to hold back intel to get what she wants, and you’ll willingly give it to her!"

"Marie. Enough," Faith said calmly. "We could go around in circles about this, but there comes a time when you have to draw a line and put your faith into practice." Marie backed down. "Kennedy," Faith glanced at her.

"We now know three points of entry," Kennedy began and turned to the screen behind. "Here, here and here." She pointed them out and turned back to the group. "The first point is obviously the front door," Kennedy spoke up. "Self explanatory, really."

"The second point of entry is actually their emergency exit," Robin added. "It’s an old out-of-service tunnel that runs under Tower City Center. The tunnel can be accessed via the basement under The Avenue food court."

"And the final point of entry is another of their emergency exits, down in the sewers," Faith finished. "Marissa’s already confirmed that there are security measures in place at points two and three."

"And that’s where Willow and the Coven come into play and we get our glamour on," Kennedy said. "Black Ops units one, three, and six are prepping as we speak. There will be three teams of slayers comprised of seven girls each. Each team will be accompanied by a Black Ops unit. Not to step on anyone’s toes, but the Black Ops have more experience in extraction."

"So they’re gonna storm in first and the rest of us will follow up their rear?" Chamique asked, leaning against a desk with her arms folded. A few snickers ran rife throughout the group.

"Yep," Kennedy replied.

"So they’re cannon fodder?" Chamique gave back with an arch of her brow.

"Noooo…you’ll both be going in at the same time, but they’ll be taking point. When we give the signal, all teams will simultaneously break into Bureau Nine," Kennedy made clear, cocking her head to one side with a sarcastic grin. Chamique gave a nod and quieted down. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah, just one, gov," Casey asked, raising her hand out of fashion.

Kennedy nodded, "Go ahead."

"Umm…we’re going in to save a thief?" Casey questioned. "Just, this isn’t Sherwood Forest and they’re not all the Robin Hood type."

"An ally," Faith corrected. "She’s a valuable ally of ours, and she risked her butt coming to us. Have some of you forgotten what she did for us in Vor?" The room fell silent when Faith commanded their attention. "’Cause I know I did," she quietly muttered under her breath, standing back in line with Robin and Kennedy.

"Remember girls," Robin told the group, "this is an extraction operation. Non-lethal force. That means restraint when it comes to hand-to-hand, but go all out with the tazers if you must. Though this operation is at night, it’s still in a public area, so be careful. If the media pounces, ignore them the best you can and get on with your job. Mr. Pollan is working on a press release should this go public, but chances are Bureau Nine won’t say anything."

"Suit up, ladies. We leave in an hour and a half," Faith said, and the slayers started to shuffle out of the command center.

April 28 2002

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Warehouse – Late Night

Gwen clutched the staff and grimaced as pain shot through her shoulders and down into her arms. The staff crackled and radiated bolts of electricity all along its length that spewed from the top, lighting the warehouse with a brightness that hurt Ethan’s eyes. The sorcerer squinted and continued his loud, deep chanting, all but drowned out by the sound of the sizzling, popping current.

Ethan held his hands apart in front of him, tipped his head back, and spread his arms wide, his back and shoulders arched. He stopped chanting and with a pained look on his face said, "Now!"

Gwen lifted the rod and held it out from her hip. It almost leapt from her hands as the current grew and electrical bolts shot from the tip of it. "Wooo!" she shouted, grinning. "Is this what it’s like for you guys?"

But Ethan only saw her grinning as his chanting reached a fevered pitch. A small pinpoint of light appeared as though miles away from the tip of the

staff. It held for a moment, then blinked out. Suddenly, it appeared again and widened, narrowed, widened again and continued to widen as Ethan’s chanting became inaudible in a maelstrom of electric forces and light.

The portal to Quor’toth was opening. It got larger and larger before Gwen’s frightened eyes, her dark military-issue goggles offering little protection against the glare. The portal was nearly man-sized when Ethan squinted at it.

"Now, Wesley," Ethan sent out as a thought to the ex-watcher.

And then darkness overtook the portal. It looked as though it had blinked out, but Ethan could still feel the pulses of dark energy pouring out of it from Quor’toth – and something more.

He turned his head to the side, trying to see better in the glare of the electrical storm. Without warning, a sharp, painful burn seared his neck and jaw line. He was tumbling to his right, and his feet came off the ground as Gwen cried out in surprise.

"Ethan!" Gwen yelled, still gripping the staff tightly to hold the portal open.

Ethan, lying on his side on the floor, lifted his head to see what was happening. Darkness loomed over him as a feral growl and a hot, horrible stench reached him. He nearly wretched from it as another blow drove his face down into the floor.

Wesley threw open the door to the warehouse and was immediately blinded by the light. He covered his face with his arms as a wall of heat and a horrible stench drove him back a step.

"Shut that damned door!" Ethan shouted, scrambling to his feet.

Wesley turned, unseeing, toward the door. As he reached out to close it, a huge, clawed hand swiped at him, delivering a sharp stinging blow that pierced the skin at the back of his head. Wesley swayed, then fell heavily to the floor. He lay bleeding, face-down, and unconscious.

Ethan shot a bolt of energy at the towering demon. It hit the creature squarely in the chest.

"Dammit, Ethan!" Gwen shouted as the energy in the room surged on Ethan’s blast. The staff began to wobble violently in Gwen’s hands.

The demon, still standing, looked down at its chest where the blast had hit it. Then it looked up at Ethan.

"Bugger. I think I’ve annoyed it." Ethan wound up for another blast as the demon charged him.

"Ethan! Mooove!" Gwen cried.

But a second, stronger blast was already slamming into the demon, knocking it back a few steps.

The greater surge of energy tore through the room like a tidal wave. The staff, nearly out of control, began to slip out of Gwen’s hands toward the portal. "Ethan! I can’t hold on!"

The enraged beast charged Ethan again. Just as Ethan raised his hand, he felt the creature’s claws rake diagonally up his body from his left hip to his right collarbone. He screamed as he reeled back and fell over.

Gwen’s eyes widened as the demon turned toward her. "Ohhhhhhhh no," she said to it, its hot, putrid breath making her cringe. "You don’t want a piece of me, Stinky!" She began to turn in toward it, ready to touch it and scorch it to death, when she realized she’d have to let go of the wobbling staff. "Oh, shi—"

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Hallway – Later

Ethan came out of the security office and closed the door behind him.

"Gwen?" he whispered, "Gwen?" She dropped down from above him with a smile, and he stifled a smirk. "I put the security guard to sleep," he said, meaningfully flexing his bruised right hand, "and switched the live feed to loop as you said."

"My hero." Both shared a smirk. "You get my stuff?" she asked, and Ethan handed over her belt, which she locked round her waist. "You really are a keeper." She winked.

He looked both ways and nodded for them to go right. He carefully led Gwen through the empty back hallways of Bureau Nine’s underbelly. Both of them were vigilant, their eyes constantly shifting. They stopped as the hallways

branched off and stood with their backs to the wall, peering around the corners.

"The emergency exit is a disused train tunnel under the Tower City Center," Ethan said as they once again continued down the halls to the emergency exit. He stopped to get his bearings as the hallways forked. After a moment he pointed to the left hallway and picked up the pace again.

"The tunnel runs for about a mile, and there’s a set of stairs that lead up into the basement of The Avenue food court. There’s security in place, but then again you’re my little spark-plug." Gwen blushed with a small grin. "The exit is right around…" As they turned the corner into another empty hallway, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps.

Quickly they doubled back to the adjacent hallway. Gwen warily peered round the corner and saw eight guards decked out with armor and weapons approaching at a march from the opposite end of the hallway.

She veered back around and glared at Ethan. "I thought you said we’d miss this section’s guard patrol?!" Gwen said quietly, although loud enough to tell that she wasn’t pleased.

"Jason must have issued more patrols, especially by the exits. He knows what you’re capable of and wouldn’t put it past you to find some way of escaping. You’re like MacGyver but more petite and less rugged. Remember what you said about cautious men?" he huffed.

"Yeah, only I don’t like this one," she replied. The footsteps grew louder as they neared Ethan and Gwen, their shadows casting on the wall behind them. "Pulling one of those party tricks from outta your sleeves wouldn’t be amiss right about now."

Ethan stared at Gwen. "Oh bugger!" he said and dove out into the hallway, startling the guards. Ethan opened his hands and sent an erratic wave of energy into them, causing them to tumble back, and Ethan to be flung back hard into the wall behind him.

Gwen spun around the corner with her arm extended and taut and clothes-lined one of the guards, smashing him down to the floor on his back.

"Ethan…" Gwen asked as she brought her fists up, readying her stance.

"I…" Ethan got to his feet, his hands shaking. "I’m fine," he said, grimly staring stared down at them.

Gwen glanced over her shoulders, noticing his quaking limbs. He clasped his hands together and took a deep breath.

Gwen looked back and saw the guards the guards get to their feet. "They’re up. You good?"

"Yes," Ethan’s voice sounded weak.

She nodded. "Stay close."

The guards split and came at Ethan and Gwen. One raised his weapon and fired at Ethan. Gwen roundhouse-kicked one of the guards into the path of the bullets. The guard slammed into Ethan’s side, the bullets barely scratching his armor, but the force was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Gwen got in close with two of the guards so that they could not raise their weapons on her. One tried to butt her with the handle of his machine gun, but she whipped it out of his hands and slammed it into his stomach before spinning around and throwing it into the other guard’s face. She dropped to the floor and swept her leg around, flooring the two guards.

Ethan’s breathing was labored as he continued to ward off the attacking guards. Holding the medallion high and casting his hand across him, he created a glowing but shaky barrier each time they tried to hit him. With each arc of his hands, Ethan’s face grew paler. He licked his dry lips.

"Gwe…" He could barely form her name, and with the next barrage his barrier fell. "No…"

Ethan stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, to avoid the attacks from the two guards before him. As he was pushed back, another guard appeared behind him. The guard swung his gun at Ethan’s head. The mage crashed to the floor on his hip.

Gwen grabbed a guard’s outstretched arm and brought her knee up snapping his bone at the elbow. He cried out in pain, and as he went down on his knees, she twirled around and thrust her palm into his nose.

Another guard tried to hit her, but she scissor-kicked him in the chin, and he fell backwards, colliding with another guard.

She turned on the spot, her hair flowing behind her and her eyes filled with horror at the sight of Ethan on the floor and three guards standing over him with their weapons aimed at him.

"ETHAN!" she screamed out.

When she went to move toward him, a guard came up behind her and rammed her hard in the small of her back with the end of his gun. She fell forward and hit the wall, still on her feet. She pushed off the wall and turned to the guard with her fists clenched. She felt something sharp digging in her back. It was then her eyes went wide in utter terror at the realization. Gwen reached around to her back and pulled away the sharp, shattered pieces of her control chip.

April 28, 2002

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Warehouse – Resume

"Let it go, Gwen. Let it go into the portal!" Ethan cried from the floor.

"I’d love to," she yelled irritably. "But I think it wants one dance first."

"Not the demon! The staff! Let the staff go! Now!"

Gwen looked down at the staff and opened her hands. The staff shot into the portal and stopped, dead center in it, floating in midair. The portal remained open and glowing.

The demon slashed out with one clawed hand as Gwen leaned quickly back, avoiding the strike. She reached up and grabbed the creature’s head between her hands.

Wesley began to stir, and Ethan clambered to his feet, shooting an energy blast at the ex-watcher and knocking him unconscious again.

The demon let out a blood-curdling scream as its head fried in the electric grip of Gwen’s hands. Its entire body shook in its death throes, but suddenly it was yanked out of Gwen’s grasp and sucked back into the portal, impaled on the staff that still hovered there. The portal immediately closed in on itself and the demon. The staff fell to the floor in charred and skeletal pieces.

The room was silent and dim. Ethan and Gwen looked at one another, both out of breath.

Gwen disgustedly rubbed demon goo off her hands.

"So," she said, walking casually over to Ethan, "what do you do for fun around here?"

Ethan smirked at her. "Go," he told her. "I’ll clean up this mess."

"What about him?" she nodded at the unconscious Wesley. "I can’t have him talking to people about—"

"We’ve been through this already," Ethan told her impatiently. "I’ll erase his memory if it comes to it. But he didn’t see you. He didn’t see anything, I’ll wager."

Wesley groaned.

"Go on, I haven’t got enough energy to knock him out again," Ethan said.

"Been a blast – literally," Gwen said before carefully picking her way over the prone ex-watcher and out the door.

Wesley sat up, heaving deep breaths. He put his hand to his neck and came away with blood-soaked fingers. He looked at his hand, then at Ethan, and finally at the spot where the portal had been. On the floor lay the remains of the staff.

Ethan watched as Wesley crawled on hands and knees to the charred remnants.

"Why?!" he shouted in anguish.

Ethan looked soberly at him, saying nothing.

Wesley picked up the largest of the pieces of the destroyed staff. "I don’t suppose," he said through clenched teeth, "that there are any more of these?"

"No," Ethan said truthfully. "I had to call in quite a few favors to get it. If there’s another, it doesn’t exist in this world."

Wesley snarled, demon-like, and hurled the charred stick at the far wall where it shattered into many pieces. Then he sat, head down, breathing raggedly.

"Come on, then," Ethan said, standing and offering Wesley his hand. Wesley took it, allowing Ethan to help him to his feet. "Nothing that a bit of scotch can’t, well, deaden."

Wesley squinted at him, his face haggard and lined. "How do you deaden the dead, Mr. Rayne?" he asked bitterly. When Ethan didn’t reply, Wesley looked grimly aside and half-staggered from the room.

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Wesley’s Apartment – Later

"You can’t be serious," Ethan said, smirking. "I didn’t do the job."

"You and your assistant did the work. I hope he escaped any harm."

Ethan noted Wesley’s use of the word ‘he.’ "You didn’t see him then?" Ethan asked.

"I didn’t see a bloody thing," Wesley replied. "I only remember ‘feeling’ the size of that – whatever it was. And smelling it. Did you see it?"

"Sorry, but even I couldn’t quite make it out in the glare."

Wesley held the book out to Ethan. "This is yours."

Ethan looked longingly at the Asurian Anthologies. "Regrettably, I never take payment for a job I haven’t done, he said. "And I actually guaranteed the results on this one. Silly me," he muttered. "I failed to do what I said I would."

"There’s a lot of that going around these days." Wesley lowered the book and ran one hand over the embossed cover. "Why?"

"Eh?"

"I keep asking myself why. Why did you hit me with that blast? I was there, the portal was open. The demon was your problem. Not mine. I could have gotten through the portal while you held the beast off. But you hit me with that energy blast. So I’ve been asking myself why." Wesley looked up at Ethan, his eyes hard. "But you knew that the portal would close once I went through it, especially if the demon was still here in this dimension. A trade-off…the balance restored with one coming out and another going in…the portal would’ve closed and I’d have been trapped. In Quor’toth."

Ethan said nothing, waiting.

"I just want to say," Wesley’s serious tone grew quiet, "I wish you had let me go in."

Ethan’s expression remained calm and unchanging. But he blinked once.

Wesley smirked. "I do, however, appreciate the gesture of keeping me around. Although," he added bitterly, "my ‘friends’ probably wouldn’t if they knew. Take the book." He held it out again.

Ethan looked sternly at him. "The world does not turn on right or wrong, Wesley. Friends don’t gather us to their bosoms on our best intentions. We all do what we must to survive. I saved your neck merely to escape being blamed for your death. Now then, if you’re certain..." Ethan waited a brief second and took the book quickly out of Wesley’s hand. He looked down at it, smiling in satisfaction. Silkily, he said, "It’s been nice doing business with you, Wesley." He turned and walked to the door.

Wesley did not watch Ethan depart, but instead stared down at the floor, his face grim.

Ethan stopped at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. "You’ll come to find," Ethan said seriously, his back to Wesley, "a certain comfort in being despised by your ‘friends.’ " One corner of his mouth quirked up, but his face remained somber. "It’s when they no longer give a damn enough to feel even that..." Ethan smiled fully then. "Embrace their contempt, Wesley; revel in your own despicability! You’ll find there are worse things to be or to hold onto in life. Although I must admit, you are languishing down around the bottom of the fish barrel..." He let out a quick laugh. "Well…so long."

Wesley heard the door open and shut. Ethan Rayne was gone. The ex-watcher stood for a moment longer. Then he slowly sat down on his bed,

letting his shoulders sag and laying his arms limply on his legs. Wesley quietly lowered his head and shut his eyes.

April 29, 2002

Flashback To:Int.Los Angeles – Restaurant – Evening

The waitress looked suspiciously at the older man and the much-younger woman seated at the window-side table. They had the best seat in the house, overlooking the beautiful pond and landscape, yet they only had eyes for each other.

"So..." Gwen smiled, "you got what you wanted after all."

"Hm? Oh, the Asurain Anthologies?"

"Big dusty books to me. I’m an e-Book kinda gal myself."

Ethan smiled back pleasantly. "Yes, but..."

"You’re not happy?"

"Quite happy. But it’s not all that I want..." He looked back at her seductively.

Gwen blinked and blushed.

"How becoming..." Ethan mused.

"Uh..." She turned and laughed, suddenly even more abashed. "Ethan...you’re... well... you’re..."

"Old enough to be your father?" he supplied.

She nodded her head and smiled apologetically.

"Then," he said, charmed by her embarrassment, "I’m also old enough to know just how to pleasure you."

Gwen caught her breath and looked down at her water glass.

"Oh. Sorry," Ethan said. "A bit too direct. Let’s try that again. Old enough to be your father...old enough to...?"

"Yes!" Her gaze shot up to meet his. There was want in her eyes. "Yes, but I...I don’t think I am...old enough, I mean...just – just yet." She smiled weakly and looked down at her hands and let out a deep sigh. "But that’s not it," she added.

Ethan sat back in his chair, smiling softly, but crestfallen.

Gwen brought her hands up and held them, palms-up before him. "Literally, sparks would fly," she said meekly with a sad expression.

"But what a way to go," Ethan said then chuckled lightly, bringing the smile back to her face. "Another time then?" he asked.

She said nothing, but Ethan saw her own smile widen and her eyes glow back at him.

Present Day

Cut To:Int.Giles and Becca’s House – Bedroom – Same Time

"Rupert! Rupert!" Becca sat up in bed with one arm around Giles’s back and peering into his pained face. "Jesus Christ, not another one!" she said as she reached across him for the phone on his bedside table.

Giles put his hand on her arm. "It’s not a – a heart attack." He carefully propped himself up against the headboard, and Becca clambered for a pillow that she stuffed behind his neck.

Becca looked skeptically at him.

"Just a rather sudden pain in my hip is all," he told her, "and a bit of nausea. And weakness..." He frowned and looked away toward the bedroom window. "Look, not to alarm you any further," he said, turning back to her, "but I’m not bleeding, am I?"

Becca’s heart skipped a beat, and her eyes darted across his body.

"No..." she said, peering closely at him. "No bloody Englishmen here," she quipped, causing him to grimace at her. "Nothing but a bloody worried wife! What just happened? That’s the second time you’ve been weird tonight!"

"I – I don’t know. Just felt a bit sick all of a sudden. Then when I rolled over, my hip felt like it was on fire – I guess I moved awkwardly. Must have slept crookedly."

"Right..." Becca said skeptically.

Giles looked thoughtful for a moment. Something seemed to occur to him. "Well…a walk about will help," he said as he began to get out of bed.

"Oh no! You stay right where you are. I’ll get you something for the pain." She quickly got out of bed and put on her robe. "And I’m calling Dr. Miller," she said as she left the room.

"No need," Giles said flatly. "He’ll survive."

Becca blinked. "Who’ll survive?"

"Hm? Oh, I-I-I mean, I’ll survive." He smiled unconvincingly at her. "Truly."

Becca frowned in doubt.

"The pain killer, love?" he reminded her. She peered at him searchingly, then left to get the pills.

He watched her leave, then put his hand to his hip and breathed heavily. "Bloody hell, Ethan..." he whispered.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Hallway – Resume

Gwen panted heavily as she looked down at her destroyed control chip in her hand. Her eyes welled up with tears that burned just as much as the anger and bile she felt rise up from her stomach.

"Do you have any idea..." she seethed as she slowly looked up at the guard who had hit her, "…ANY idea at all what you’ve done?!"

The guard couldn’t care less and rushed at her. She ripped off her gloves and flung her hand out and

grabbed his face. The guard howled out as bolts of electricity surged from her palm into his face. His entire body convulsed, and steam erupted from beneath Gwen’s palm. At the height of his scream she released him, and he fell to the floor dead.

She couldn’t control herself. The rage built up on her face, and her breathing became even more shallow and rapid. She threw her head back and screamed; her hands curled into fists as streams of electricity leapt from every inch of her body.

The arcs lashed the area surrounding her, scorching the walls and floors, causing the security cameras and lights to explode, showering the hallway with pieces of metal and glass.

Larger streams of lightning shot out of Gwen, glowing with greater intensity as they darted for the guards and struck them, encasing their fragile bodies in an envelopment of pure, raw electrical power.

Ethan lowered his hands from his face and watched in amazement as the men above him violently convulsed, practically lifted off their feet. He shuffled back on the floor for fear of a stray bolt of lightning, but oddly not one of the many arcs of lightning found their way to him. The air was prickly and made all of the hairs on his arm stand on end. He shielded his eyes from the light, and his ears popped from the immense rumbling sound of the thunderous waves.

Gwen continued to scream, and the power ebbed from her still, and by now the guards were long dead, their bodies blistering from the sheer current flowing through them.

She threw down her arms and collapsed to the floor exhausted, her lightning bolts dissipating into the ether. Her body shook under the weight of her tears, and large beads of sweat ran down her forehead.

Ethan tried to move to her, but his hip and exhaustion got the better of him. "Gw-Gwen," he called out.

She shot him a look, the tears streaming down her face. "Ethan," she clambered to her feet, and it was only then that she realized what she had done. "Oh my..." She became panicked at the sight of her devastation and the dead bodies of the eight guards.

"Gwen..." Ethan said again, only this time his voice rose as he moved awkwardly, the pain from his hip crippling him.

His cry broke her out of her catatonic state, and she rushed over to him. She reached down to help him up, but he jerked away, his eyes widening in agony at his hip. "Gwen," he stopped her. "No..."

"Ethan I…I…"

"Go. Go on. Before they call in the...whatever the bloody hell they have for troops in this place," Ethan wheezed.

She shook her head. "No. No, you’re coming with me!"

"I don’t think I can walk," he grimaced. "Besides…I want to stick around a while. I still have an interest in things around here."

Gwen’s sobs began to dry up, and only her heavy breathing filled the air with sound. "In someone around here, you mean," she said, staring down at him, straight in his eyes.

Ethan opened his mouth for a witty comeback, but he didn’t have one. He closed his mouth and just looked at her.

"Ethan, I’m…I’m scared," she admitted.

As Ethan went to talk, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps running towards them in the distance.

Gwen turned away and looked down to the other end of the hall. A sign on the wall pointed an arrow to the left and read: "Emergency Exit."

She turned back to Ethan, who had propped himself up against the wall. They stared at each other a moment, and then a gentle smile crossed Ethan’s face.

"Make it look good, love."

Gwen’s gasps for air became more regulated. She swallowed hard and stared back at him; he was still smiling. The slightest of smiles emerged on her tiny face, and within a blink of an eye she spun round and slammed the heel of her boot into the center of his face, knocking him out.

She broke down into tears and stood over his unconscious body for a moment before she backed away and fully turned into run and headed for the emergency exit, not once looking back.

May 2005

Flashback To:Int.Vor Hell Dimension – Council Quarters – Time Irrelevant

Ethan stood at the furthest point of the allocated Council Quarters, away from the rest of the groups who were far too busy to realize or care that he wasn’t helping with their preparations for the impending battle. His companion, Rupert the dog, sat by his master’s leg with his head laid on the floor between his paws.

The dark mage stared out at the harsh amalgam landscape of Vor. Heavy treading footsteps from chunky boots crushed the gravel underfoot as Gwen approached Ethan slowly from behind.

"Ethan?"

Ethan half-turned his head and smirked, but the dog by his side began to turn with head hung low and a snarl building in its throat. Ethan waved his hand over the animal, and it quieted. "Miss Raiden," he said, echoing their first encounter.

"Mr. Rayne." She tried to sound and look serious, but a small smile cracked through. "And friend," she said, looking at the dog. "Familiar?"

"Not as much as we were." Ethan grinned. His smile faded a bit as he looked at her. "How are you, Gwen?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I'm good," Gwen managed a meager smile. "I’ve...I’ve missed you."

Ethan began to say something, then stopped and smiled sadly at her. "So...you’re in on this, too."

"Kinda, yeah."

"I suppose it might be too much to expect we’ll see each other when it’s done." His smile faded, and she could see the age lines in his face.

"Let’s say we will," she said boldly. "What we need right now is hope. Without it, what are we fighting for?" A slight warm smile managed to peer through her melancholy exterior.

"I don’t know what you’re fighting for," he said distantly. "I’m fighting for..." He looked at her, then down at the dog by his side. When he looked back up, his expression was sad, but he managed a smile. "I’m fighting for a second

chance at…anything, I suppose. Maybe," he added, his eyes sparkling as he took a step closer, "for another kiss?"

"I guess in a way, I am too," she softly smiled, staring longingly at him.

He reached his hand out, stopped, and looked at her.

Gwen shook her head regretfully. "Ethan, no," She took a step back. "My control chip isn’t working here. None of our technologies are. Guess the Energizer Bunny’s finally run its course. At least here, anyway," she said with a short smirk.

"Right..." he said softly and dropped his hand.

"Ethan, I don’t do promises, not with the lifestyle we have, but I don’t want this to be our last memory. We’ll have more, right?"

He merely smiled at her closed-mouth. Finally, he drew a breath to speak but saw Willow rushing over. He quickly smiled at Gwen, and when he sharply turned away, she did too, both of them acting like they hadn’t been talking or even noticed the other.

Ethan moved away and looked to Willow, and Gwen started a slow walk over to the main quarters.

"Ethan! I’ve been looking all over for you," Willow shouted, nearly out of breath.

"Not hard considering we’re in one big cave," he said with his usual smart-aleck tone.

Willow skidded to halt with a large stone tablet her arms that she thrust into Ethan’s. "We need your help translating this. We scanned what we thought we’d need from our library into the laptops, but they won’t work here."

Willow walked around to Ethan’s side and pointed to the passage that they needed help with. Ethan peered down at the tablet. The glyphs were hard to read, and the dingy bioluminescent rocks didn’t offer much light.

As Willow talked to him, he looked up to see Gwen walking away. She looked over her shoulder as she continued walking and their eyes locked on each other. They shared a final small smile before Ethan returned his attention to Willow and before Gwen turned around and made her way to the center of the Council Quarters.

Present Day

Fade To:Int.Bureau Nine – Hallway – Present Day

Ethan’s own groan sounded in his ears, bringing him fully back to consciousness. He blinked hard a few times and saw, past the swollen lump of his left cheek, that he was lying on the floor. When he inhaled, a sharp pain coursed through his nose, and clotted blood ran down his throat, gagging him. He wretched as he rolled onto his stomach. Then he heaved up some of the blood and groaned heavily.

Breathing through his mouth, with his nose and head throbbing, Ethan raised his arm up and laid it against the uneven wall. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and allowed his arm to drop back down to his side.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached his ears.

"Ethan!" A whispering, worried cry carried from a short distance away. "I told you!" a youthful voice said, "I told you he was down he—"

"Shush!" a second voice said impatiently.

Ethan opened his eyes and looked out toward the sound. There stood Camden and Cameron Kreswell. "C.K.," Ethan breathed.

"Mother, help me!" Camden called as he rushed in and knelt down in front of the sorcerer. He reached his hand out and touched Ethan’s face along the jaw line, his other hand coming to rest on Ethan’s stomach. "We’re here," Camden said. "We’re here and it’s all right..."

Ethan tried to train his eyes on the young man’s face, but his eyelids fluttered. "C.K...." he breathed again.

“Ethan! Ethan!”

“Camden, hush,” Cameron Kreswell told her son. They helped Ethan to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged him between them and out of the hallway.  

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Lobby – Later

The slayers and Black Ops stood in their respective groups ready to go. They all faced the reception desk where Willow, Andrew, Jeff, and Jocelyn finished their preparations for the glamour spell.

With a skillful hand, Andrew crushed various dried herb-like leaves and sprigs under the coarse bludgeon of the pestle in the mortar. Each of them held open a plastic sandwich bag, which he poured the sparkling dust into, saving some in the mortar for himself.

"Okay guys, you know the drill. Do the chant and then sprinkle your pixie dust over ’em like you’re Tinkerbelle," Willow said with a nod and smile.

"I, umm, don’t know if I can do this," Jocelyn said shyly. "I’m nervous, ya know. I turned a stunt man into a Turok-Han for no reason. What if I unintentionally make the slayers invisible for good? Or shift them out of phase with this dimension? Or what if—?" She was starting to get worked up.

"Whoa, Jocelyn, just calm down, okay?" Willow said, raising her hands. "Last thing we need right now is a fire on our hands. Remember your training, and what I said. Tap into your inner-Vulcan and block out all of your unnecessary emotions. Believe that things’ll be okay, and they will!"

Jocelyn took in a deep breath, her hands motioning up her body as the air filled her lungs. She calmly breathed out and brought her hands back down to her side. And repeat.

Willow placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I believe in you. We all do. Now, you good to go?" Jocelyn nodded. "Good. C’mon guys."

The four of them walked across the lobby to the teams.

"Everything cool?" Faith asked, standing at the front of her team.

"Peachy, dandy, and shiny," Willow assured with a smile before she looked to her Coven, who had spread out. "Ready?" At their nods, she closed her eyes and took a breath and started to chant; the others followed suit.

Abruptly the power went out, casting the lobby in darkness. Out of the windows it could be seen that the surrounding area had too fallen into darkness.

"I didn’t do it!" Jocelyn squeaked.

"No, I did," Gwen’s voice crept out from the shadows.

"Gwen, you’re okay?" Willow said as she tried to make out where the young woman was.

Gwen stepped out of the shadows in front of Willow. "Yeah," she said flatly, her eyes red and watery. The slight light revealed a heavy bruise on her left cheek.

Willow shot Faith a look and hurried towards Gwen. "Oh my goddess, what happened?"

"NO!" Gwen shouted and backed away as Willow came forward, her hand outreached.

Faith stepped forward. "What’s wrong?"

"My…my control chip was…" Gwen averted her tearful gaze to the floor.

"Oh no…" Willow closed her eyes and sighed quietly, "Gwen, I’m so sor—"

"I don’t want your sympathy!" She snapped back, surprising Willow and Faith. "I can’t take it right now." She shook her head and looked back up to Willow and Faith with a furious look in her eyes.

"You don’t want our sympathy, and we were about to come spring your ass?" Faith gave back with a glare.

"I know…I knew you would, and thanks, I appreciate it but…that’s why I came back here. To tell you not to bother and to tell you that Bureau Nine doesn’t know that you were involved." Gwen stopped and swallowed then went on. "And to tell you not to find me. I’ve got to go dark for a while, and it would be dangerous for us both. I’ll make myself known when the time is right." She stared back at Willow, who was glassy-eyed herself. "I need to leave now," Gwen said and turned back to the shadows.

"You don’t need to be alone in this. We can help you," Willow called out desperately.

"No, you can’t," Gwen said as she continued to walk away. "I’m a freak." With that, her figure was lost in darkness.

Faith stared for a moment then looked at Willow. "Hey Will, you okay?" she said, putting a hand on her arm.

Willow nodded. "Yeah. It’s just…she opened up earlier, and I never realized what her life must be like. How lonely she must be. Just makes me sad, and makes me realize how lucky we are that we’re…normal. No one should ever be alone."

Cut To:Int.Giles and Becca’s House – Living Room – Same Time

"Rupert?" Becca called from the doorway. "Rupert, are you all right now? Is the painkiller working?"

"There’s no answer."

Becca looked at her husband and saw him sitting with the phone in his hand and looking very anxious.

"Rupert, who are you calling at this hour of the night?"

He merely stared back at her.

She sighed heavily. "Willow was right," she muttered. 

"About?"

Then, more loudly she asked, "Is there something wrong with him? With Ethan? Is that what all this has been about lately?"

Giles simply sighed. "I believe so," he answered.

Becca sat down beside him on the couch and looked deeply into his worried face. The clock ticked uncounted seconds until she suggested, "Maybe someone's playing games with the two of you?"

He smiled at her. "Doesn’t work that way. But whatever it is...I think he's found himself in a spot of trouble."

"You always said trouble follows him but hasn't caught him," Becca reminded him. Giles only nodded. She put her hand over his on the phone. "Come to bed and try him again in the morning. Knowing Ethan, he’s doing it just to get your goat." She stood up.

"You knew then...that I’ve been getting some sense of him recently?"

Becca took her seat again. "Not at first. But earlier you said ‘he’ll survive’ when I went to get you the pain pills. I was worried so I called Willow. She told me a little more than I already knew."

"It’s nothing we asked for," he told her. "Nothing either of us wanted. The link was residual. It happened."

Becca put her arm around him and leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. "I'm not blaming you Rupert. And if you haven't reached him by phone after tomorrow afternoon maybe you can stop by the council; have Willow do a locator spell?"

Giles grinned. "You know there aren't too many woman who would be this understanding?"

"Yeah, ya got damn lucky when you found me, Pal," she teased. "But really, I know the score...Our magic comes from our love. Not the other way around...So please," she said as she kissed him long and soft on the lips. "Come to bed. I promise to make it worth your while."

Giles grinned. "An offer I'm unable resist," he said as he returned the kiss with one of his own.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office – Much Later

"Yes, Miss Raiden escaped," Mr. Felix said grudgingly into his earpiece. "I’ve personally reviewed the surveillance feed from the cameras around the holding room, and she doesn’t show up on any of them except when she was first brought in by the guards. We don’t have a clue how she broke out of her shackles; they were lined with…Sir, believe me, I am not giving you excuses." He took a deep sigh.

"Mr. Rayne? Yes, he’s fine. A little worse for wear but far better off than an entire squad of my security officers that are lying in the morgue," he said as he walked around his office to get a better look at the work being done below. "C.K. found him on the floor with a broken nose. My best guess is that Miss Raiden broke free, and she used him to escape. That could explain why she didn’t show up on the camera leaving holding – she could have threatened Mr. Rayne to conceal them with a glamour. Though one would have thought the old mage might have hurled a fire ball or ice ball or something remotely magical her way. Then again, Miss Raiden is potentially the most deadly woman alive."

Felix paused for a brief moment before going on.

"Yes, after speaking to him in the infirmary, he’s told me that Miss Raiden’s powers are neither mystical nor magical, nor in any way, shape or form supernatural. Her powers are purely the result of a natural occurrence. Our science department can only deduce that her powers are a result of a chemical imbalance in her DNA or due to some rogue gene. I try not to believe in fate, but I can’t help it. I chose Miss Raiden for the task of procuring the sphere because of her professional ability and finesse, and it wasn’t until her attempt to swindle more money from us that we translated the passage in the Codex and discovered that she too is the only person in the entire world with the means to activate the sphere..." He paced his office, stopping by the window and looked down to the maintenance teams scurrying about the floor. "But that’s irony for you."

Mr. Felix circled back along the wrap-round window, dragging his finger along the railing behind him. "Miss Raiden played us, and she played us good. The sphere she delivered is a fake, and to add insult to injury, inside was a secure wi-fi device. She bugged us," he enunciated with emphasis. "I wouldn’t put it past her that she sold us out to the Watchers Council, but I believe she played us for her own gain; I really do. I.T. figured out that the remote hack into our database only resulted in a two to five percent download of our information. Thankfully our most sensitive information was untouched. As to what was downloaded we do not know, and she made it impossible for us to track the download source." He sighed once again.

"Miss Raiden has gone dark, and there is no way to track her down. We have no sphere and now no way of activating it, and therefore have no endgame." He came to a stop and slammed his fist down onto the railing, making the glass panes shudder slightly.

"I think I can help with that," a British woman’s voice called out.

As he turned round, Mr. Felix’s eyes fell upon a petite woman in her late fifties standing in the doorway, with shoulder length dark brown hair flicked up at the tips. She carried her handbag over her shoulder and wore her brown coat fastened up, all but one to the neck.

"Well, at least with acquiring the genuine artifact," she supplied.

"You’ve arrived," Mr. Felix said somewhat surprised, a slight smile beginning to crack through his glum demeanor.

"Only just," she fashioned a demure smile.

Caught off guard, Mr. Felix stuttered into his earpiece, "Sir, I apologize. I must go. Our overseas partner has arrived. Yes, I’ll send my regards. Goodbye." With that he pressed his earpiece, ending the call.

He walked over to greet her and took her outreached hand. "I trust you had a safe journey?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I could get used to flying in the company jet. So many free miniatures, a decent movie, oh and piping hot tea with no sugar and just a little bit of milk on demand." She sized her thumb and forefinger as she said ‘little’. "I think that was the highlight for me," she chuckled, "that and the male totty."

The delight on Mr. Felix’s face soon began to fade. "Have you been filled in on the latest developments?"

The woman’s guise followed suit and changed to one of disappointment. "Yes, I heard. It’s unfortunate. To say it’s a hindrance or cock up is putting it lightly, especially when you consider that we had the power source to the sphere under our noses and within our grasp." She shrugged her shoulders and walked over to Mr. Felix’s desk, putting down her handbag. "Miss Raiden governs an incredible amount of natural bio-electric energy that no other human has or probably ever will attain. Have I told you I’ve met her on occasion?"

Mr. Felix looked confused. "No. I knew she worked for the Old Guard, though."

She nodded. "Yes, back when we higher-ups hired her to do, well, the obvious. Interesting woman. I don’t consider Miss Raiden to be a freak of nature. I consider her to be unique, and without her we really are lost. It’s just a shame that the passage in the Codex wasn’t translated sooner."

"Do you think she’s affiliated with the New Council?" Mr. Felix asked.

"That I don’t know. But one battle at a time, I always say. Let’s focus on what we can do in the here and now. I think I just might be able to get the sphere," she said, a smile creeping across her face.

Cut To:Int.Grace’s Dorm Room – Later that Day

Grace sat up at the small kitchen counter on her laptop, her fingers skillfully gliding across the keyboard as she typed out her latest blog entry. In the background the low sound of the Arctic Monkeys played from her iPod sitting in a speaker dock.

Her phone began to ring. She moved the cursor over to the ‘save’ button and left-clicked.

"Hello?" she asked, putting the phone to her ear. The tone of her voice equaled the annoyed look on her face that told she was not pleased at being interrupted.

"Hello my darling…" came the voice over the phone.

Cut To:Int.Bureau Nine – Mr. Felix’s Office – Same Time

"…it’s Mummy," the British woman said as she glanced to Mr. Felix with a sly smile.

Fade Out.

Special Guest Stars:

Alexis Denisof as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Elisabeth Sladen as Dianna Earl

 

End of Meiyo