Part Twenty-four

Richmond, Virginia. January 17, 2001

Rachael Weitz drove along the street, towards the residence of Xander Harris and Daniel Osbourne. And she was not in a good mood this evening.

After the strange phone call from the former Scooby during the night, Rachael had of course reported it at once to the embassy - and the embassy had instantly ordered her to appear for some questions, in the morning. And the secret agent hadn't liked that, not at all.

Because as Rachael had dreaded, the Mossad station chief had wanted to talk to her.

The ugly truth was, as Xander had more than suspected at the time, that Ms. Weitz had been given this assignment not only because she was well qualified to act as an observer to Siberian Trip Wire - but also since she was a beautiful woman, and resembled Faith more than just the average person on the street. The thinking had been that Xander would not be able to resist her advances, at least not for long, as he was a man - and practically all men had certain...needs.

But unfortunately, Rachael hadn't gotten anywhere in months of trying to break through the temporal-displaced refugee's defenses. And if not for her contacts back home, she almost certainly would have been hauled away by now, for the Israelis to send someone else to get to Xander Harris - to sleep with him, and hopefully learn all the secrets he wasn't sharing with STW.

Well, such is the spy business; it's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.

But now, the people at the embassy were thinking Xander had started warming up to her, as a dinner invitation - even in the middle of the night - was a good sign. For her country, that is; for Rachael, not so much...

Because she had been ordered not to be 'coy' any longer. Weitz had almost laughed out loud at the use of that word by her superior, as her attentions towards Xander Harris hadn't exactly been coy or subtle! But in any case, the big man in Washington had flat-out told her to ditch the werewolf by any and all means possible, and seduce Harris tonight - or else.

That had left a bad taste in Rachael's mouth, to be honest. Because this wasn't just an assignment anymore; she had definitely started developing feelings for the guy, despite all training and common sense to the contrary.

With a sigh, the brunette spy arrived and quickly rang on the doorbell. But what she wasn't expecting was to be yanked inside, and shoved up against the wall in the foyer.

To her shock, Xander leaned close to her face; his forearm against her throat and pinning her in place, he coldly asked a single question. "Did you know about what's happened to Faith?"

"What-?" the Jewish woman stuttered, choking from the pressure and never having expected this.

Harris leaned forward, staring into her eyes and not giving her a chance to react. "Did you *know* how Wolfram & Hart had captured her soul?"

Rachael almost shook her head. "No, I-"

But Xander had already let go, and put away the stiletto he had concealed in his hand before Rachael had rung the doorbell. He turned to Oz and said succinctly, "She's clean."

The musician frowned. "A lot's depending on whether you've guessed right..."

The former slave grinned nastily. "Trust me, dude; because yours truly spent nearly 5 years in a place where if you trusted the wrong person, the demons turned you into dead meat! She's not lying, I got me no doubts Rachael's on the level here..."

Harris then felt a tap on his shoulder, before Weitz's fist headed straight for his face - in retaliation for what he'd just done. But ducking aside instantly, Xander captured her hand and squeezed *hard*; yelping, Rachael jumped back as Harris let go with a scowl. "Sorry about the little test - but don't try to do that again. You get one free shot, and that's all. I'm warning you..."

Clutching her right hand in pain, the female Israeli spy just demanded angrily, "All right, just what the hell is going on here?!"

Byron's Lobster House, Richmond, Virginia. Later that night

"You're insane!" That was Rachael's stated opinion, after Xander had finished telling her what he was thinking.

Oddly enough, she had gone out to dinner with Xander and Oz at a local seafood restaurant despite recent events, after the young woman had made a phone call to the embassy - and told her boss about Harris' actions, without telling him the reason for them. The senior spy had just sighed...

...and told her to forget the seduction scenario, until further notice. And thus, Rachael had gladly done so. {I swear, if I didn't find the big lunkhead so drop-dead gorgeous, I'd have kicked this guy's ass into next week for the stunt he pulled tonight!}

Earlier in the day Xander had talked to Oz, taking the necessary precautions to avoid being overheard, explaining the situation with Faith's soul. Oz had taken the news with the calm face that Xander had expected, although he thought he had seen the werewolf's eyebrow twitch up when the news of the soul being held captive had been told him. Harris had then detailed the plan he had come up with to get Faith out of the clutches of the evil lawyers in Los Angeles, and enlist Rachael's help in doing so.

Oz had voiced his concerns to Xander. And the so-called Timetripper had agreed that it sounded dangerous, but asked that Oz reserve his final decision until they'd talked to Rachael.

Over dinner in a corner of the restaurant, Xander had told the Israeli woman what was going on, and his plan to deal with the situation. Like Oz, she'd had concerns - not to mention issues. She was just more forthcoming in voicing her opinion of Xander's mental state.

"Don't hold back, Rachael, tell me what you really think," Xander quipped at Rachael's opinion.

"I'm serious, *Mr. Hall*! This plan you've come up with is downright insane, too. It depends on everything going off exactly as you planned! The slightest thing going wrong, and it spirals off into disaster-"

Xander nodded. "I agree. It's a finely tuned plan. But it'll work."

"Oh, come on! I know you've got that soldier persona kibbutzing around in your head; he'll tell you that no plan ever completely survives contact with the enemy. And this one is worse, since you have no margin for error! I think you should forget the whole thing, and just tell the colonel what's going on. You're gambling an awful lot on his reactions to your little scheme-"

Xander shook his head. "No, because we all know that won't work. There is no way in hell once he knows what's going on, that Mother Hen will let me go anywhere near Los Angeles. And there's no guarantee that he'll be able to get anywhere near the orb with Faith in it! My way, at least it gives us a better than even chance to find out where the orb is being held..."

Rachael looked concerned and shook her head. "There are better ways to pull this off-"

"And those ways involve too much risk of not getting Faith back. So we gotta go with my idea. End of discussion," Xander said.

"No it's not! Look, Alexander, this isn't exactly what you'd call a...a standard hostage rescue scenario. Because the kidnap victim, she's already dead..." Rachael said, hoping for Xander to see reason.

"You should know better than that by now," Xander snapped. "Her soul exists here, in this world. Rachael - everything that Faith is, or was, those bastards are holding prisoner. So that's good enough for me!"

Rachael looked at Xander, and noted how he looked fiercely determined to do something. "Hall, think this through logically. You have to-"

Xander interrupted her. "No. I am not leaving her there, that is *not* an option. I don't care about the big picture. I don't care about what's coming in the future. I don't care about the national interest. What I know is that a comrade in arms, a...friend of mine is in need. I am not going to leave her in the lurch like that-"

For a moment, Xander flashed back to the night outside the Bronze, and felt the pain all over again when Lenny bit into him. { NO! }

Then he pulled himself together, "Look, I know what it's like to be left behind like that. Trust me, it's one of the worst feelings in the world. Feeling abandoned by your friends, knowing that you've been left to die..." His face grew grim. "I am not going to let Faith feel that. Even though she's dead, her soul can still feel. Her only hope is that we'll come for her."

"Still, there has got to be a better way!" the Israeli secret agent insisted.

"For nearly 24 hours I've gone over and over the situation in my head, Rachael. Nonstop, if you can think of a solution with a better chance of getting Faith out of there, tell me now. Otherwise, this is the plan we're going with."

Rachael leaned back and folded her arms. "Going in like that is stupid."

"Maybe, but it's the lesser choice of a whole lot of terrible evils," Xander declared.

"Hmm. Sounds like you've already made your mind up," Rachael said, with almost a pouting quality to her voice.

"I have."

"Then what do you need *me* for?" she asked.

"Well, I have to get to Los Angeles. I'm thinking me buying a plane ticket or flying under my own name might start some alarm bells ringing." It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Siberians were obsessing with airline passenger lists, in light of what was coming in September. Xander knew that if his name showed up on any such list, assuming the guard dogs even let it get that far, that flight would attract an incredible amount of attention.

Rachael looked at Oz. "If it's a matter of buying a ticket, why not get Osbourne to buy one?"

Xander shook his head. "No, his name would set off the alarm bells as well. You know how the Siberians operate. Their net is cast so wide these days, that any name associated with me would raise a red flag. Hell, that's how they found me in the first place; they knew what name to look for, and kept watch for it till I showed up at that bus station in San Francisco."

Comprehension came to Rachael. "You want me to get you to Los Angeles underneath the radar?"

Xander nodded. "Underneath everyone's radar."

Rachael quickly figured out what Xander meant. "Even from my own people? Oy vey! You don't ask for much, do you?!"

The woman already knew that if she did as she was asked, she would have to do it without the help of the entire Mossad network within the United States. Rachael knew enough of how her agency worked to understand that more than a few people of responsibility in it, might get ideas of taking advantage of the situation - to spirit away the prize, as Xander was sometimes referred to as, back to Israel.

"Look, Alexander, you're asking for a helluva lot. And when all's said and done, I'm a patriot-"

"I know," Xander interrupted Rachael. "I'm not asking you to do anything that will harm the state of Israel. I wouldn't do that-"

"Yeah, but you winding up in the hands of those lawyers could lead to things that would harm my country, along with a whole lot of others! You have to weigh all the possible outcomes here."

"I think she's right, Xander," Oz had never really gotten used to calling his old friend by his alias in private. "Any way you want to paint it, you're taking a big risk in doing this. And it could end up a real disaster if anything goes wrong. Disaster along the lines of, say, Buffy sleeping with Angel-type bad..." Oz knew it was a calculated risk mentioning the Slayer and the events of their junior year in high school, but he was hoping it would be enough to make Xander reconsider his position.

For a moment, hurt flashed in Xander's eyes. Then it quickly vanished, as the temporally displaced warrior regained control over his emotions. "I know the risks are high. I know it could go all horribly wrong. However, I can *not* just leave Faith there, or hope that someone else eventually decides to do something about it. Like I said, that's not an option."

Xander paused for a second. There were parts of his plan that he wasn't ready to share with Oz and Rachael just yet. "I understand the risks, but thing is - I've got something in mind to try to deal with them..."

Georgetown, Washington D.C. January 18, 2001

Cleburne knocked on the door, and entered Esther's office. "Morning..."

"Good morning, Joshua," Esther responded. "Anything to report?"

Cleburne sat down across from Esther's desk. "No, nothing major. That vamp nest in Oklahoma City is dust in the wind." Cleburne chuckled a little at his own joke. "We're also picking up rumblings about some kind of vampire activity in Alaska."

"I see you've also been busy in some other ways..." Esther turned the monitor of her computer, so that Cleburne could see it.

The Marine then saw that the Internet Explorer software package was on the web page denoted www dot timetripper dot com. "Uh, I can explain that."

Esther cocked her head and looked at Cleburne. "You can explain why this website is now reporting that the 'Timetripper' was the subject of an interstellar summit meeting, between President-elect Bush and aliens from outer space?"

Cleburne nodded his head. "Yes, my explanation is that I planted the story."

"And you did this, why?"

"Come on, Esther! This makes the people out there, take this website much less seriously than before. Which I admit wasn't much to begin with, but I figure why take any chances? This way, if that wacko actually manages to get some proof, we can always say that she talks about aliens."

"And the picture of Bush with these so-called aliens?"

"Hey, the boys in the computer lab loved the idea. They set up me up with the program to do it and everything," Cleburne replied with a look of amusement on his face.

Esther smiled. "I see. In that spirit, I thought you might like to know that the Watchers Council is about to get a little surprise. Something that should make them sit up, and take notice. Hopefully afterwards, they won't be as much of a bother as they've been in the past. Speaking of the Watchers being a bother, I hear Lt. Hall had a visitor last night?" the black woman commented.

The Marine colonel chuckled. "Weitz went down there for dinner, at his invitation. Actually, I'm sort of glad; I was getting kinda worried about Harris acting as if he was a monk or something, all this time. Professionally speaking, it's good to see the kid starting to loosen up a bit. And Rachael will be good for him..."

Esther raised an eyebrow at that comment. "You're not worried about Weitz?"

The Marine waved his dismissively at Esther's question. "Nah, she can take of herself; it's the kid you should be worried about."

Esther chuckled at that. "Well, anyway, I called you here for a reason."

"So what's the mission? Vampires, werewolves, witches gone bad? What creepy-crawly do I gotta deal with now?"

Esther smiled at the question. "Actually, it's the return of a golden oldie. Been a while, I know, but we *do* still deal with terrorists..." She slid a folder, with a photograph attached to it, across the desk. "Recognize him?"

Cleburne leaned over, and picked up the file. He looked at the photograph, and snorted. "Oh yeah, Mikhail Notenchenko. He was a colonel in the KGB. Back in the Eighties, he was chief liaison with a variety of terrorists groups in the Middle East. Went private sector in the mid-Nineties; but had to leave Russia, as Putin really doesn't like him on a personal level. Last I heard, he had set up shop in Rome, selling AK-47s and RPGs and whatever else he could find to anyone who could afford it..."

Esther nodded at Cleburne's recall. "Well, I'm afraid he's expanded his product line."

Cleburne looked up, halfway knowing what was coming. "What's he selling now?"

"Biological weapons, I'm sorry to say."

Richmond, Virginia. Later that day

Xander finished writing the email he had spent the last hour composing. Rachael and Oz had been right about his plan requiring almost everything going as planned, for it to work. That required the timing to work out *precisely* as Xander hoped. He would only have a tiny window of opportunity for it to work; once the opportunity passed, he wouldn't get another one.

Rachael had continued trying to convince Xander to tell the Siberians what was going on. Oz had joined in on occasion, although with less vigor, the werewolf having less experience dealing with them than the Israeli secret agent. Xander, however, would not be swayed from his course.

The young man knew that at some level, his actions were irrational, the soldier persona whispered that in his ear - but he just found it impossible to be sidelined with this situation. Harris needed to act knowing that someone he cared about, well her soul anyway, was in trouble. It was, as Lilah had guessed in the video message, the old White Knight syndrome coming to the fore.

Still, despite what Rachael and Oz may have thought, he wasn't a fool. Xander knew just how dangerous the path he had chosen was going to be. More than once, he had convinced himself to tell the others what was going to happen, only to change his mind - for their own safety.

The man then saved the email to disk. He didn't know when the break for Los Angeles would take place, so he didn't want to set a time for the email to be sent just yet. Xander knew he had to be sure of the timing.

He also knew that the Siberians could do a lot to prevent him from doing anything they considered foolish. The Californian had never forgotten the story of the boy who could read minds, who was now in a drug-induced coma at a clinic right here in Virginia. He could very easily himself wind up locked away in an underground cell, after all he hadn't heard hide nor hair of Ethan Rayne since the election scam he had tried in Florida last year.

Harris knew the Siberians were capable of drastic measures, when they thought they were called for.

Indeed, he was hoping for just that capacity in his upcoming plan...

Washington, D.C. The same time

Rachael Weitz sat in the chair with her fingers in front of her, pushing against each other like a church steeple, considering her options.

Since she hadn't been able to talk the guys out of this, the woman knew there was no other option; she had to get papers and transportation for them. The only other choice was Harris getting himself locked up by the Siberians, for his own safety - and in that case, Rachael would lose her access to him...

So she had to go along with the whole nutbar plan - keeping a close eye on the loose cannon and his sidekick, of course.

Weitz sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. Normally, she would be able to use the resources of her organization. However, that wasn't possible here. For the moment, she had been able to fool her superiors as to what was going on; they believed that Xander had momentarily buckled under the stress of his situation.

Which was perfectly understandable. Rachael knew that back home, several experts had been consulted concerning the mental health of Xander Harris, and their consensus was that some form of breakdown was inevitable.

She suspected that the Siberians had some people on staff here, who had told them the exact same thing. The spy knew that there was a Dr. Angleman within STW, who was treating - well, *trying* to treat - Harris on a regular basis, for suspected psychosis.

Still, Rachael didn't accept that. She just didn't believe Xander was headed for a padded cell, the way the so-called experts did.

Oh, Weitz knew that much of his behaviour would be considered abnormal or questionable, by most human standards. However, Xander Harris almost *defined* abnormal; after all, the guy knew exactly what was coming for the next 2 1/2 years. He had spent nearly a quarter of his life in that hell dimension. And he had grown up with the knowledge of demons and vampires...the same way other kids grew up with baseball statistics and other sporting activities...

Bottom line, Rachael had seen enough of Xander in action to know that he hadn't lost his capacity for rational actions. He just sometimes didn't use that capacity.

Anyway, she had seen the exact same thing in quite a few people like him, in her line of work. Field agents often exhibited pathological behaviour; after all - what completely rational person willingly enters the lethal shadow world of black ops? Rational people stayed at home, they became doctors, architects or lawyers with 2.4 kids and a mortgage. They didn't plunge headlong into the night looking for terrorists, vampires and demons...

So the Israeli woman accepted that Xander knew what he was doing, just not that it was a good idea.

Her mind snapped back to the problem at head. Okay, so she couldn't use her people - they would know something was up, and take steps to secure advantage from it. And Rachael knew that she couldn't stop that, even with her influence back home.

That meant unofficial resources for this one. Of course, she needed to find someone good enough to do the job, and not breach the confidence required. And that limited the number of choices Rachael had, particularly since she was working with a pretty short amount of time here.

The ringing of her doorbell interrupted her musings. And Weitz was surprised to see Monsignor Bentallo standing there, when she opened the door.

"Good evening, my child. May I come in?"

Rachael stood aside to allow the Catholic official to enter. She shut the door as he did so, "Monsignor! Welcome to my home. And I hope you don't find this offensive, but I'm in a hurry - so what can I do for you?"

Bentallo just smiled in response. "It's more along the lines of what *I* can do for *you* - and Lt. Hall."

Los Angeles, California. Later that night

Lindsey MacDonald pushed the 'end call' button on his cell phone. This had been the fourth time today that Spike had phoned him, to complain about not getting paid. And each time, Lindsey had told the vampire to read the terms of their contract - that he hadn't upheld his end of the bargain to turn Darla into a soulless vampire, and thus Wolfram & Hart wasn't going to pay up.

Each time William the Bloody had declared that part of it wasn't his fault, and he had done everything asked of him. And with each phone call, Spike's ire had grown; just now a whole string of British curses, most of which the one-handed man didn't even know what they meant, had voluminously blasted the lawyer's ears.

Lindsey was just glad that he hadn't been in the physical presence of the vampire, or his insane companion. He would have been fearful of his physical safety in such a situation; and given the threat potential, the Texan had already alerted the firm's security today to be on the lookout for the undead version of Sid and Nancy.

Lindsey had also taken personal precautions for his apartment; and he was now trying to think of ways to increase his safety during the commute to and from work, but apart from stakes and crosses couldn't think of anything. The man silently cursed to himself, {This is just typical.}

The plan had been for Spike and Drusilla to make life miserable for Angel, not the people - well, some of them were people - who had hired the duo. The whole plan with turning Angel back to the dark side was rapidly falling apart, and *he* was the one who would be blamed for dropping the ball. Lindsey pocketed his cell phone, and saw Lilah looking at him with a smug expression on her face.

Lindsey idly wondered what, other than his misfortune, she had so much to be pleased with. Office gossip was that her project involving Xander Harris, a.k.a. the Timetripper, was stalled. Although come to think of it, his immediate superior Holland Manners had also seemed very pleased recently, the few times he had asked Lilah about that project.

At that moment, Holland entered the room, where a gathering of the Special Projects division of lawyers were present having cocktails. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you're ready we can all adjourn to the wine cellar. I have some finger food and drinks ready for us down there." He smiled, as the attorneys followed him downstairs.

Lilah grabbed Lindsey, just as the male attorney was about to march off with the others. "Wait up."

The man cocked an eyebrow, "Why?"

"We need to talk."

Half a mile away. The same time

"Bollocks!" Spike slammed his palm onto the steering wheel of the car. A crushed cell phone lay beneath his feet. "Where do they get off, treatin' us like this? We did everything they wanted, luv, and we woulda been successful too - if the bloody fools had bothered to warn us that that damn witch was gonna get in the way!"

Spike had quickly figured out that it must have been Willow who had cast that spell ensouling Darla, there was no one else he knew that had the skill. {Shoulda killed her way back when I had the chance! Damn that silver-colored demon wanker, what stopped me that night.}

In any case, William took the position that her intervention was something outside the terms of his contract, something that the insurance people would call 'an act of God'. Therefore, he had earned the money that the demonic law firm had promised him. He wanted that money, too - beer and cigarettes didn't exactly grow on trees here, after all.

Spike had grown increasingly more and more frustrated, as his efforts to get paid had come up with no results. He had even tried going in person, well in vampire, to the law firm to argue his case. But he hadn't even been able to get past security! Normally, security guards wouldn't have fazed *this* vampire, but when the security guard was a nine-foot-tall demon - well, that had caused Spike to decide on something a bit more subtle.

Like finding out where this party was, that he had heard two interns in the parking garage talking about before he'd had dinner. They had been bickering over what to wear, and had mentioned a dress store that everyone who would be attending the party had patronized...

And needless to say, the staff at the dress store had been most helpful as to where the cocktail gathering was. Spike figured that he could find Lindsey MacDonald leaving said party, and express his...displeasure in person.

Next to him Drusilla suddenly said to herself, "The stars warned me, they did; they spoke of the naughty witch, said she was coming..."

Dru's mumbling caused Spike to realize something. "Seers. Those bleedin' seers that firm uses must've seen what was going to happen. They could have warned us..." Spike then grew *very* angry. "Wait, that's it! They knew we were gonna face more 'n two pansy vampires. They musta wanted us dusted, so they wouldn't 'ave to pay up! Oh, those right bastards!" He slammed the steering wheel several times, with enough force to rock the whole car.

Spike sat there and stewed for a few minutes. Then he reached down, and turned the ignition of the automobile on. The vamp instantly started to drive off, heading for a destination that he kept to himself.

Dru looked at her boyfriend. "Where are we going, my precious Spoike?" she asked in that sing-song voice, oddly happy in her own weird way.

William the Bloody just grinned, with that grin of his that indicated a large amount of violence was about to happen. For this was Spike the Master vampire, and not some chipped white hat. "I want to collect on our fee, ducks, in person. And if I can't get money, well, there are other forms of payment..."

Ten minutes later

Holland Manners looked up as his little speech was interrupted, when someone slammed shut the doors into the wine cellar with a loud bang. He recognized the two vampires in front of him, and suddenly knew fear. Even more fear than he felt when he dealt with the Senior Partners, for they at least wouldn't kill him without reason...

"Hello there, mates - hope you don't mind, but the little woman let us in!" Spike declared to the roomful of lawyers. Then the male vampire laughed at Holland, "She was one decently tasty snack, too! Shoulda warned the missus never to invite anyone in, ya dumb git - even if they look like they'd just been in a car accident..."

{Catherine.} Holland thought in horrified regret. "Spike. Drusilla. What brings you here?"

"You," Dru replied dreamily, seeming to stare off into space - as the moon and the stars whispered their secrets to her.

William the Bloody, ignoring the comment of his beloved, laughed again in genuine amusement. "Now, that's a good one! Well, why don't ya take a wild stab at why we're 'ere - you sodding cheapskate?" His face becoming a horrible scowl with that last phrase.

Richmond, Virginia. The same time

Xander Harris copied the email message from the disk to the computer. He then quickly set up the message to send, in 12 hours. He figured that would be enough time for him to get to Los Angeles. Rachael had said that she had air transport arranged that should get them to LA, in a couple of hours.

Harris figured they could set up camp in the City of Angels for about a day or so, before he made his move. That should be long enough for his plans to come to fruition...

Or so he thought. Unfortunately, Xander had no way of knowing that his email would actually remain unread longer than he expected, for the person he was counting on reading it...was at this moment, flying across the Atlantic on his way to Italy.

Unaware that his plan had already hit its first deadly flaw, Xander hit the send button on the computer. He then turned off the machine, and stood up. The young man quickly grabbed his jacket, and headed to the roof of the apartment building.

Over time, the strictness of the surveillance upon him had lessened, as he'd become more and more part of the team. Plus, Oz had been a big help with that sort of duty; not only was the werewolf an infinitely better guard than almost anyone else due to his supernatural abilities, he was someone whose presence Harris could tolerate. And so, there was just less hassle all around if the two of them were simply left alone in the house.

Still, Xander suspected that someone would notice him walking out the front door, as Cleburne hadn't relaxed surveillance *that* much. So, it was a roof exit for him. Oz had already left, taking his guitar with him so it looked like he was going out to play at one of the bars he frequented. And no one watching the building from the street had thought anything of that.

Xander got to the roof, the cold January night causing him to involuntarily shiver. He zipped up the jacket to try and ward off the cold. Still, the man knew that the cold here in Virginia was not as bad as elsewhere; after all, he had visited Hollins at his office in Urbana during the winter often enough, to feel *real* cold. {Lord help me, am I getting used to this kind of weather? No! It can't be true! }

Yes, Xander knew this was mild compared to Illinois. Of course, compared to the winters in Sunnydale that he had grown up with, well - January nights in Virginia were almost freezing compared to those. {Maybe one day, I can move back to good ol' southern California. Still - that's not possible for years yet, if ever.}

He looked around, to make sure he was alone. Satisfied that he was the solo person on the roof, Xander clambered down the fire escape to the street behind the apartment building. He then pulled a balaclava out of his jacket pocket, right before he dropped to the street; pulling the balaclava over his head, Harris figured just in case someone was looking, this might disguise his appearance a little bit. {Or make them think you're going to rob a liquor store! } He quickly made his way down the street towards the nearby park.

After a few minutes, Xander saw his destination. He looked up and down the street to see if she was here. And then 30 yards from him, a car roared to life, making its way to where Xander was standing.

"Hey there, handsome. Want to party?" Rachael said, as she leaned over from the driver's seat and opened the passenger door for Xander.

He quickly got in, tearing the covering off his head. "I bet you say that to all the guys!" Harris retorted.

"Only the ones I like - and want to take home, to meet Mother!" Rachael replied easily, as she started to drive through the early morning streets of Richmond.

"Oz taken care of?" Xander asked, after a few minutes.

Rachael nodded. "Yes, he's already at the airfield. And he was even able to get some sets in at that club he likes to play at, before he left! The man seemed happy." Rachael paused for a second. "You know, it's not too late to-"

"Yes it is," Xander said with finality. "The email's been sent. So either we do this, or we part company - right now!"

Rachael stared at him, but said nothing. In fact, the two of them were silent for the rest of the trip to the airport; as there was nothing left to say on the matter. But internally, Weitz was fuming... {Bull-headed jerk! I swear to God, Cleburne must be teaching this guy his people skills.}

In the end, Rachael pulled the car up into a secluded hangar. There was a Lear jet in front of it, and Xander could see Oz standing next to the plane. He got out of the car and headed over to the werewolf, while Rachael parked the vehicle.

"Looks like she came through," Xander commented to his friend.

"Well - she had a little help, my son..."

Xander turned at the new voice and saw Monsignor Bentallo standing in the doorway of the jet, motioning the newcomers to board the plane. "Please hurry, my children - we have a long way to travel, and not much time in which to make the trip..."

He noticed Xander's expression and explained, "I've learned of how the immortal soul of Ms. LeHane was abducted from Heaven, by Wolfram & Hart. Those unclean monsters..." Bentallo growled, as said act was an affront and an insult to his faith - one that could not and would not be tolerated. "Now please, all of you - hurry!"

Xander and Oz exchanged a glance at Bentallo's statement. And Giles or Buffy, had they been there, would have been struck how the dynamic between Oz and Xander mirrored the long-ago dynamic between Willow and Xander. After a second, they reached an unspoken decision and boarded the plane as Rachael followed them.

Outside the Manners residence, Los Angeles, California. January 19, 2001

Kate Lockley made her way up the pathway to the front of the house, a little after midnight. She moved to the side, as some paramedics wheeled out a gurney with a sheet-covered body on it. The blonde woman suddenly looked back at the street, where onlookers and reporters were being held at bay by several uniformed police officers.

With a grimace, Kate then turned around and continued on her way. "How bad is it?" she asked the officer guarding the front door.

"Awful, the wife got it near the door here. The staff and caterers, we found in the main body of the house. The party guests were all killed down in the wine cellar. Looks like the killers locked the doors behind them, and went to town on the poor bastards..."

Kate hurried through the house - noting in passing where the chalk outline was, that indicated where the lady of the house had met her end. She made her way to the stairs, and from there down to the wine cellar.

When the female detective got there, a beehive of activity greeted her as well as various paramedics and police officers. Forensic experts walked around, taking crime scene photographs.

A panicked call to 911 about an hour ago had summoned the police to this residence. The caller had shouted something about being trapped with the murderers in the wine cellar, and the door locked. A young British woman had then terminated the call, screaming some sort of incomprehensible nonsense.

The patrol unit arriving there ten minutes later, had found only a house full of corpses...

Kate cursed to herself under her breath; she knew that this crime scene just screamed out vampires, even if no one would believe her if she told them that. Thus the woman halfway expected to have Angel and maybe some of his sidekicks show up, any moment. She hadn't heard from them for a couple of days...

Lockley also wondered if this was the kind of thing that she should call those Federal agents about. They had been in contact a few times, and she had called them occasionally also. On a hunch the detective made a mental note to call her contact number, once she was done here.

She tentatively stepped into the wine cellar. One of the other detectives noticed her, "Hey. I swear - it's a real mess here, Kate. I don't know if they'll ever be able to get all the bloodstains out of the floor..."

"Do we know how many dead yet, Lew?" Kate asked.

The police lieutenant shook his head. "No clear body count for now. Most of the dead met their maker here in the wine cellar, but we're searching the whole house to find all the victims." The detective leaned over and whispered to Lockley, "Be careful on this one, all right? The brass is watching all of us in here, real carefully. I've already had calls from both the mayor's and Governor's offices..."

Lockley nodded at that. She had heard enough to know that this law firm moved in the highest possible circles. She wondered just how much more trouble could she get into with this case, as she was already skating on thin ice over the zombie police officer situation...

Something which had happened earlier here than in that other world, without Wesley getting shot - but with Angel shutting down the operation, and beating up that police captain dabbling in the black arts.

"Lieutenant, we've got a couple of live ones here!" an officer shouted down from the top of the stairs.

Lockley quickly made her way up the stairs, and followed her fellow cops to the kitchen - where she found a couple of still-breathing lawyers, Lilah Morgan and Lindsey MacDonald. Both of them were shivering and wrapped in blankets. Lockley looked at the officer with a questioning look.

He shrugged in response. "We found them hiding in the meat locker, near the back. It *is* pretty cold in there-"

Kate glanced towards the cold room, and could see the hunks of meat hanging down the length of the freezer. She noted that there were puddles of blood on the floor of the freezer. She glanced again at the officer.

"From what we can gather, Manners regularly entertained guests who like their meat very rare," he said in response to the look.

She turned to the two attorneys. "I'm Detective Kate-"

"Lockley, yes detective - I recognize you. We've met before, right? You've been involved in several cases involving some clients of the firm," Lindsey said.

The lieutenant figured this was his cue to back off, as if Kate knew these people - he'd let her take point on the interrogation. As it was a known fact the witnesses always spoke more freely to someone they knew, instead of some anonymous flatfoot. { Lord knows, we need to find out everything they know- }

"Okay, so you know me. Who are you two?" Kate was a little put off by the Texan's attitude.

"Lilah Morgan, and the one-handed wonder here is Lindsey MacDonald," the woman spoke up with a slight smirk before her counterpart could.

"Okay, Ms. Morgan," Kate's tone was now definitely frosty. She had heard of Lilah through Angel. "What happened here?"

Lilah hesitated for a second. "We were upstairs discussing a case, when we heard Mrs. Manners cry out..."

That was true, of course the case in question involved a certain warrior of the light who was misplaced in time. Lindsey had been trying to get information from Lilah about her project, while at the same time she had been trying to get information from him.

The internal politics of Wolfram & Hart sometimes led to strange situations; but in this case, it had saved both their lives. Because Darla hadn't been here this time around, and Spike would have slaughtered them both with a song in his heart; and since these two still had their important roles to play, it was all just as well.

Lilah went on, "We went to the kitchen, where we found some of the staff. Well, what was left of them..."

"Were you able to see the attackers, or learn who they were?" Kate asked.

Lindsey shook his head. "No, all we heard was a woman's voice yelling. It was in a British accent, if that helps."

Kate nodded, that matched up with the phone call that was now common police knowledge. "What did she say?"

"Oh, something like - Grandmother and Daddy should be here. It's all changed. All changed. It's all their fault. The kitten and witch," Lilah said, half a second before Lindsey could say they hadn't been able to make out the words.

Kate frowned at that, as none of it made sense to her. "Any idea what she meant?"

"No," Lindsey quickly said, lying through his teeth.

"What then?"

"We hid in there. We figured no one would look in the meat locker," Lilah replied, not adding that she had gambled that the meat and accompanying blood would mask their scent from the two rampaging vampires.

The thing was, both Lilah and Lindsey knew perfectly well who was behind the massacre. They just didn't feel like sharing that info with the thin blue line; both attorneys knew the law firm would be dealing with that undead duo, soon enough. "How about the others, in the wine cellar? What happened to them?" Lindsey asked.

"All dead," Kate said in an even tone.

"I see," Lilah commented. {Well, that means there's certainly going to be a big shake-up at work in the morning! Someone's gonna have to take over for Holland.}

Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles, California. Six hours later

Angel walked into his office, looking more tired than someone who was undead should. He sat down behind his desk, and ran his fingers through his hair.

Wesley knocked on the door, as he entered the office. "Any news?" he asked.

Angel shook his head. "No, Spike and Drusilla aren't anywhere to be found. I figured they would be out trying to obtain new minions to attack us with, to be honest. Maybe rounding up some help from Wolfram & Hart-"

"Speaking of which, the news services are reporting that there was a mass murder at Holland Manners' house, earlier tonight. Angel - if it's who I think it is, I more than suspect that those two and Wolfram & Hart have come to a parting of the ways. And Spike must have decided to..."

Angel sighed, or at least appeared to. "It's typical of him, actually. Whenever Spike starts something, he doesn't stop until everything in his path is dead. I remember back in Sunnydale, I warned Giles and the others about that..."

The vampire then noticed the Englishman's confusion. "Before your time, Wes. Anyway, point is, when something goes wrong his motto is to kill everyone he can reach." Angel looked up worriedly for a second. "Did Willow get back safely to the Hellmouth?"

Wesley nodded. "She did. I called Mr. Giles about half an hour ago, and both Willow and Tara arrived back in Sunnydale without incident. Ah, what about Darla? How is she adapting to her...new status?"

"You mean being a vampire with a soul? Well, she hasn't freaked out yet. I think she's focused on finding our two - wayward children - so much, that it hasn't really sunk in completely. Once those two are taken care of, I expect she'll have to face her new status head-on. But for now, she's upstairs in one of the rooms resting. Given how we can't get too much else done, with sunrise so close."

"Of course," Wesley commented. "Gunn's people are looking, and if they hear anything they'll let us know. You might want to contact Ms. Lockley, although from what Gunn tells me with regard to the fallout from the incident with those zombie police officers - that may well be a last-resort scenario. Anything else?"

Angel shook his head. "No, I think we have quite enough to deal with at the present time."

"Quite. Well, I'm going to go out and see what I can find." With that Wesley turned and exited the room. Right before he left the room, his face, unseen by Angel, showed a look of hesitation for a second.

{ No, this isn't the time. I'll talk to him about it later, } Wesley thought as he closed the door behind him.

Sunnydale, California. An hour later

Orlando checked his weaponry again. He always kept his weapons in perfect condition, but that came from always checking them carefully, day and night. He knew that the slightest flaw in the weapon could be disastrous in a battle.

Particularly at this time.

Dante and his other brothers had been very diligent in finding out what they could, about the woman they had fought that night in the alley. She clearly had some connection to either Glory, or the Key. General Gregor had ordered the Knights to learn all they could about her. Thus, his orders had been followed to the letter.

The Knights had interrogated many of the undead and demonic citizens of Sunnydale as to her identity. The fact that she was the Slayer was something that worried Orlando. He had ordered his men to be extra cautious, to not be spotted.

That had slowed down the rate at which they could get information, but that couldn't be helped. In any case, they respected her fighting ability. Particularly since most of their information had been gathered from the captives they took, before said captives were...dispatched.

A couple of the other Knights had gone undercover in the neighborhood where the Slayer frequented. They had determined which house she lived in, and more importantly that she had some kind of celebration coming up.

Orlando had decided that this celebration would be a good time to visit the Slayer, and try to learn some information. They might be able to snatch some of her friends, or whatever else was necessary to determine what she really knew.

Orlando looked at the calendar. The date read Friday, January 19th, 2001.

Today was the day the Summers clan would be celebrating the birth of the Buff...

Los Angeles, California. Later that day

Xander tentatively made his way down the stairs, into a place he remembered very well from his time in the City of Angels.

Dismissing from his mind the thought that STW must have learned he was missing by now, Harris looked around the bombed-out basement of the building - that at one time had housed, subsequent to his residence there, the offices of Angel Investigations.

Xander took a breath, and started coughing on the dust that was in the air of the cellar. He finished up coughing and grimaced, "Oh yeah, there's no place like home..."

Rachael and the others followed him down the stairs. "Home? Hall, I didn't know you once lived in the Batcave!" the woman joked, as she brushed some of the dust from her clothes.

Xander instantly recalled the man called Allen Francis Doyle visiting him here two years ago, when the Donald Grant soldier persona had been in complete control. The Soldier Guy hadn't thought the joke that the messenger for the Powers had made about the Batcave was funny, not at all. However - Xander was more easygoing, at least in some things. And it didn't hurt that the person making the joke was much better looking than the hard-drinking half-Irish seer...

Suddenly Xander thought, {Can't help wondering - what would this world be like today, if I'd just shot Doyle that night...instead of hearing him out?}

Well, for one thing, it would have upset Jasmine's plans a lot. But the former slave knew nothing about all that - yet - and it was a decent mental exercise, imagining yet another would-have-been world and not having to think of his immediate problems.

As Harris contemplated the possibilities he came to the conclusion that most likely, the Hellmouth in Sunnydale would have remained open that evening, thanks to Jack O'Toole and his buddies killing everyone in the library with that bomb - and a Hell on Earth scenario would apply.

But assuming the world had managed to survive somehow, he wouldn't be the Xander Harris right now that he was today. He would be just another anonymous resident of LA, most likely hooked up with Gunn and his Lost Boys, fighting the things that went bump in the night - and with no knowledge of the shape of things to come...

And *that* meant the First Evil would have been able to manipulate the playing field to its heart's content, without interference.

Bringing himself back to the present, Xander chuckled lightly at Rachael's joke. "Sorry, this is Alfred's week off. If I'd have known we'd be visiting so soon, I would have called him back from vacation early."

Oz walked around the cellar, his wolfish senses faintly picking up the almost-nonexistent smells of Xander having been at this locale before today. And he could tell that it had been a long-term habitation, too. "This was home to you, wasn't it?"

Xander nodded, some of his earlier levity gone now. "Yeah, for a few months - after I got back from that hell dimension. The portal out of there led to LA, ya see, and I made my base camp here till I got sent back to Sunnydale."

Oz raised an eyebrow at Xander's short description, he was sure that there was more to it than just setting up a base camp here. But he held his tongue for now, seeing the expression on his old friend's face.

Bentallo looked around, somewhat appalled. "My son, surely you could have found a better place elsewhere? The Church has many shelters in the city you could have-"

"Monsignor, I know the Catholic Church is doing what it can to help - however, I doubt any shelter run by you guys would have turned a blind eye to what I was doing, during that time! One look at me after one of my missions, and I'm sure LA's finest would have gotten quite a few calls from my hosts," Xander responded. The soldier persona had been quite ruthless in his dealing with demonic threats, and hadn't wanted to be where humans could have been hurt or interfered in his missions.

"So what next? We hang out here till Cleburne shows up? Or do we get pro-active?" Rachael asked. She silently hoped that she could come up with a way to head off Xander's plan, with one that involved less danger. However, she hadn't been able to come up with anything yet, so she was now stalling for time.

"Well, there are a few things to do before we move on to the next phase," Xander said, ignoring the look of distress on Rachael's face when he referred to what was coming as the next phase. He just continued, "I have to be *certain* that Wolfram & Hart can't get the knowledge they want. I know Faith's important and all, but I shudder to think how many people would suffer or die - if they got their hands on the information they're after! So, we have to make...arrangements...to be sure that doesn't happen."

"How about you not going straight into the lion's den? That sounds like a perfectly good way to avoid the danger to me-" Rachael started to say. She wasn't giving up the game anytime soon.

"No, Rachael, I told you - I can't leave Faith there. We get her out, no matter what it takes!" Xander replied. He wasn't budging on that part of the plan, and everyone knew it.

"What did you have in mind?" Oz asked. He knew from personal experience that Xander could be *very* stubborn at times, and he wanted to avoid a fight between the former Scooby and the Israeli secret agent if he could help it.

"Well, I know some people here in Los Angeles who can handle mystical matters, professionally speaking. We need to get in contact with them, and they can take care of the arrangements for me."

"Angel and the others?" Oz asked, as that made sense to him. Xander had told him how Angel was in on the secret from the start, and he further knew that Gwen Raiden was with him now. They could provide support in going up against Wolfram & Hart...

But Xander shook his head. "No, I have someone else in mind. On account of these three ladies pack one helluva mean punch, in the mojo arena..."

Outside the Caritas Karaoke bar, Los Angeles, California. Half an hour later

Monsignor Bentallo tugged at the collar of the shirt he was wearing. He felt nervous, both from being dressed in disguise and going to a demon bar. As these were things he had not expected to ever have to do, as part of his duties with the Holy See.

As said, Xander had a plan to contact the Furies. The problem was that both Cleburne and Gunny knew of the girls, and Xander's connection to them. Thus the runaway believed that STW would certainly have their apartment under surveillance, and he couldn't contact them directly.

However, Xander knew that there were others who, when visiting the Furies, would not raise any concerns with any potential agents watching the suite.

The tricky part was contacting them. So Bentallo, being the one least likely to be recognized by any Siberian agents in the city, had ventured forth while the others had stayed in the basement of 1.03.

Bentallo entered the bar, and looked around. A waitress walked by and smiled, "Evening honey, grab a chair and I'll come by to get your order in a sec-"

"I'm looking for Lorne," the holy man said uneasily.

The waitress nodded over to where the lounge demon was working the crowd. So Bentallo walked over to where Lorne was, and sat down on a barstool near his objective.

After a few minutes, the Host noticed Bentallo watching him and turned his attention to the guy. "Hey there, Sinatra junior, how you doing? Haven't seen you around in these here parts before. What can I get you?" Lorne asked.

"Mineral water," Bentallo said simply.

Lorne raised an eyebrow. "Mineral water? Come on! I picture you as a Rat Pack kinda guy. And they don't drink mineral water...lemme guess, you'd love to sing something in homage to the Chairman of the Board? Tonight's a night for the classics, after all..."

Bentallo nodded. He was actually kind of flattered, as he was a big fan of Frank Sinatra's music, but business came first. "Thank you, however my needs are more direct at this time. I was sent to contact you," the Catholic official said, after making sure no one was listening to their conversation.

Lorne's guard immediately went up. "Me? Who would want to contact me, except to plan a party here at my club or something?"

Bentallo shook his sadly. "I'm sorry, but this isn't a party scenario. A man called Alexander Hall sent me, to tell you that he needs your help. And I'm afraid he must insist on your assistance..."

Los Angeles, California. Shortly before sunset

Xander paced the floor. He had been pacing ever since Monsignor Bentallo had left for Caritas, and his return had done nothing to stop Xander's progress.

"Hall, if you don't stop walking around in circles like that, you're going to drop from exhaustion before too long!" Rachael commented from the chair where she had been watching the former Scooby.

"I just can't sit here and wait. We should have heard something by now!" He turned to Bentallo. "Lorne said he would do it before sunset?"

Bentallo nodded. "Yes, after I discussed the situation with him, he said he would do as I asked. And the demon promised he would get it done before sunset, as he didn't want to miss the peak hours of activity in his club." In fact Lorne hadn't wanted to help at all at first, but whatever Xander had written in his letter to the Pylean, had persuaded the Host to assist them.

Xander knew that the Furies were the ones who'd taken care of the sanctuary spell in the Host's establishment. So it made sense for Lorne to visit them about the spell, and he wouldn't raise any red flags with anyone watching the apartment. All that the green guy had to do was tell the sisters that Xander needed to talk to them. If they were agreeable, Lorne was then to call Bentallo on the cell phone number he had given the Karaoke bar owner.

"Don't worry. He'll come through. I have every confidence in your ability to judge people...well, demons too," Oz said sympathetically.

But Daniel, like Rachael, was hoping in some way that Lorne did *not* come through. He had been trying, subtly but clearly, to divert Xander from his plan - even if he'd had the same lack of success that Rachael had. Of course, Xander hadn't lost his temper with Oz the way he had with the Israeli woman in Richmond...

The funny thing was Xander held no illusions as to Oz's motivations for trying to talk him out of this idea. He knew the werewolf wasn't afraid of losing a potential intelligence source for his country; the guy was worried about a friend getting himself killed.

"What if he doesn't call or can't get to them? What then?" Rachael asked. Despite what Xander thought, she too was concerned about his safety and welfare.

"Mmmm, Alexander..." a trio of voices with a dreamy quality said.

Xander's head twisted around, to see the Transuding Furies standing about five feet away from him. He then realized he was no longer in the condemned basement, but in the Furies' apartment suite.

After all these years and with all the memories in his head, the teleportation spell or whatever didn't faze Xander at all. Oz didn't really react either, beyond raising an eyebrow, and that was only to be expected. But Lorne was standing near the door, with a look of amazement on his face. Bentallo looked around in wonder, barely suppressing the urge to cross himself.

Somewhat tellingly, of all those present only Rachael jumped in shock. "What the hell!?" she shouted out.

Xander motioned at her to calm down. "Don't worry, they're the people we need to see-"

"What!?" Rachael cried out again. "Look around you, pal - we're not where we were a few seconds ago!" She glanced around, the setting sun was visible from the patio door leading to the balcony. "Last time I checked, that cellar of yours did not have a view of Los Angeles skyline!"

"I know it's unnerving-" Xander again started to try and calm her.

"Unnerving? Unnerving? It's downright freaky! We didn't walk, we didn't drive, we didn't fly. We simply showed up here! What just happened - it goes against all known laws of God and man! And you're not bothered by this?"

"We do not abide by-"

"-your limited perceptions-"

"-of this amazing universe," The Furies said in succession, freaking out Rachael even more. She stood there, open-mouthed and looked at them.

At that moment Lorne spoke up. "Boys and girls, it's been a blast. Mr. Hall, not that I'm not happy to see you again, but I need to get back to my club. I'll meet you later, to complete my part in all this. And by the way, honeybun, thanks heaps for the tip!" With that, the empath demon exited the suite.

"Tip?" Oz said, looking at Xander.

"Nothing from the future, I just wrote in the letter that it seemed to me that the spell preventing demon violence in Caritas? It might not stop human-caused violence - and that he might want to look into that. I also made a few other suggestions, on how to make sure no violence from outside would spill over into his bar."

Xander turned his attention to the three Furies, that had moved closer to him during the conversation - in that gliding way that they all used, in order to move. The women had a look on their faces that left no doubt in Xander's thoughts, what was on their minds.

"Ladies, really great to see you all again-"

"Yeah, I'm sure!" Rachael interrupted him. She had eyes too, and disliked the sisters at first sight - on general principles.

Xander continued on, ignoring her rudeness. "Girls, I need your help. A situation has developed, and I...need to do some things that require your unique brand of abilities." Harris then proceeded to describe to them the threat from Wolfram & Hart, and his plan to deal with it. "Look, bottom line, I really need the assist here. I can't afford for my plan to blow up in my face, and let those demons-slash-lawyers get what they want..."

The three Furies looked at each other. Their body language indicated a conversation, but they made no sound. Suddenly, the eldest of the three spoke. "Yes, it is foolhardy. And it is also reckless. But what he seeks to do is noble and worthy, to rescue a lost soul."

The other two looked at her and nodded. She then moved to a chest in the room. The first Fury quickly took out two stones, and went to Xander. She handed one to him, keeping the other. The stones then instantly lit up, when Xander took the rock in his hand. He looked questioningly at the women.

The Furies then said in turn, "They're called Soul Stones. As long as you are alive, the stones will shine."

"Now that the stones have imprinted your soul's aura upon themselves, they will reflect that your soul is earthbound."

"But if you die, they will go dark once more."

The Furies paused for a second; behind them, Xander could see Rachael getting red-faced. {Just great, Guess I should have convinced her somehow to simply stay in Washington}

"If the stones go dark, we will be able to summon your essence into an Orb of Thesulah, before Wolfram & Hart is able to do so. This will prevent your knowledge from becoming known to those you don't want it to," the Asian Fury spoke up.

Xander nodded, looking concerned. "That's good. If the lawyers kill me to interrogate my soul, that'll put the kibosh on their plans. However...that may not be enough." Xander suspected, and the Soldier Guy agreed, that the lawyers might decide that interrogating a soul without a body was much easier than, say, questioning someone always trying to escape.

"What?" Bentallo demanded, as he heard the young man say those words. "How can that be?"

"Easy," Xander said, then he looked at the three sisters. "Wolfram & Hart apparently has lots of resources, they could very well figure out your involvement. And then they'll come after you. They'll most likely sacrifice as many demons as it takes to get to my soul, after all - look at all the trouble they went through just to get to me, in the first place! You're powerful, but not all-powerful. So if it pans out that way, you gotta be prepared. You three need to be prepared to...utterly destroy my soul."

Harris looked hard at the Furies, completely ignoring the clamor from his companions. "Can you do that?"

The Furies looked horrified. They stared at each other, and then they turned towards Xander - with something close to a look of shame on their faces. "It is possible. There is a spell involving a living flame-"

"-and the Breath of Entropics. It would destroy a soul-"

"-beyond the power of almost all entities to resurrect," the Furies chorused.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "*Almost* all?"

The eldest Fury answered him. "Any entity able to reverse this spell - would not need your soul to know what lies ahead, in the first place."

"However - it still goes against everything we believe in," the second Fury added.

"What you ask - is almost impossible for us to countenance," the youngest sister finished up.

"I hate to suggest this," Oz spoke up. "But what if they torture you enough, that you crack under the interrogation? Not kill you, but make you do anything necessary to end the pain?"

Xander turned his attention from the Furies to his friend, snorting dismissively as he did so. "Not wanting to blown my own trumpet here, and this is something no one likes bragging about - but I *seriously* doubt that those lawyers, or their demon buddies, could do anything to me that would accomplish that. Never gonna happen."

The others gave him looks that clearly said they had trouble believing this. Rachael spoke up, "Hall, believe me, everyone has their breaking point. The human body can only take so much pain-"

Xander took a breath and responded, "I know I've been sketchy on the details of my time there, and I know it sounds pretty cocky, but the hell dimension and Ken made me able to withstand anything these people might throw at me. It's the truth, pure and simple - I survived 5 years of Ken's attention, plus I survived the emotional turmoil that was my life in the previous history..."

"My son-" Bentallo started up.

"No, Monsignor, it's not a consideration. That's just a fact, after all - how many people have had a wakeup call, that was a demon trying to set them on fire?" Xander declared.

The sisters then spoke up, interrupting Xander's companions' attempt to dissuade him from doing this. "There is still the-"

"-matter of payment for-"

"-our services to be discussed," the Furies said.

Xander looked at the Furies. The others looked on in puzzlement, as they were unaware of what his payment had been last time - when the Furies had helped out on the raid into the demon dimension, to retrieve the human slaves there.

"I understand. And, uh, I imagine you'll be wanting payment in advance - considering what I'm about to do, huh?" Harris sighed.

"Payment?" Oz asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, ol' buddy, there's no such thing as a free lunch," Xander commented. "Well - you guys probably don't want to stick around for this part of it. And since you can't exactly walk out the door, the sisters can transport you back-"

But then the young man was surprised when the girls shook their heads, "No, Alexander. This time-"

"-we require more. Your body-"

"-is not enough," the three women said.

"Body? What do they mean by, 'your body'?" Rachael asked, actually finding to her amazement that she could get angrier at this situation than she'd thought - as the implications of the comment by the Furies set in.

Xander frowned, ignoring her. "What else can I give you? After all, you girls aren't exactly into money..."

"Your seed," the eldest Fury said calmly.

Xander continued frowning, and then his eyes went huge - as he *finally* processed what had just been said. "My seed? My seed!?" Harris demanded, his voice rising. "You mean - you want to have my..."

"Your blood is uniquely blessed, from drinking the water within that holy cup. You have a destiny to fulfill."

"Even if we do not know what that destiny is, we know it is vitally important to this world."

"If you die beyond all hope of resurrection, disaster is certain," the Furies rhymed.

"And how would you girls having my seed prevent that?" Xander asked. He didn't notice Rachael edging closer to him.

"If you succeed in your objective-"

"-retrieving the soul of your fellow warrior, you donation-"

"-will not be allowed to develop. It will be as if it never happened," the Furies explained.

"And if I don't come back?" Xander asked grimly, already halfway knowing the answer.

"Your three sons will be born-"

"-and cared for. When they grow up-"

"-one of them will take over for you, in the destiny you have been chosen for," the Furies answered.

Rachael spoke up, now white as a sheet, "You're all crazy, or joking. Or both! I don't care which!" Even though the woman wouldn't admit to herself, more than a little jealousy was prominent in her reaction to this situation.

"I don't think so, for any of the three choices," Oz said in his Yoda-like manner. As always, he was exhibiting a serene presence that the others present couldn't hope to match.

Xander just stood there, saying nothing. For a full minute, he appeared to think about it, and all the ramifications.

But Rachael had had enough of this, and she grabbed the man's arm to drag him out of the suite. By this time, all she was thinking about was getting her so-called assignment away from these nut cases - not caring anymore about who might be watching the apartment.

But Xander easily batted away Rachael's hand, without breaking his stare at the Furies. Ignoring the Israeli's look of stunned hurt, Harris said quietly to the sisters, "I want your word of honor, your pledge, your most sacred holy vow that if I agree to your terms - you'll take good care of my kids. Give them as normal a life as possible, until they're old enough to make their own decisions. And that it'll be up to *them*, to decide how to fulfill their own destiny."

Rachael looked on in complete disbelief at the former Scooby, as the Furies nodded in unison to his request. "We swear by our powers that we will do so. We will honor your request to the letter, if the need arises," the eldest Fury spoke for the group.

Xander nodded, taking a deep breath at the enormity of his actions. "Then I guess...we have ourselves a deal. So, uh - it'd be best if you transport the others back to where we just came from-"

"Now wait a minute, if you think for a moment I'm going along with this-" Rachael started, only to be interrupted by Xander.

"Rachael."

"No, damn it! Have you completely lost your mind? Enough's enough, I'm not putting up with this crap any longer. I'm putting my foot dow-" She stopped, as the brunette felt Oz take hold of her arm.

"Come on. We're leaving," the werewolf said with some force.

"No way, I'm not going!" Rachael snapped back, having lost almost all semblance of reason.

Oz's eyes flashed black, and fangs were suddenly visible in his mouth. "It's his play, Rachael. And we're backing it."

This outer display of his inner wolf was enough to quiet the Jewish woman down, and get her to cooperate. She allowed Oz to move her away from Xander and the Furies, towards where Monsignor Bentallo was.

The eldest Fury spoke soothingly to Ms. Weitz, "Do not give up hope for Alexander's survival. He is special. The destiny we speak of - truly belongs to him." As she finished saying that, Xander's companions shimmered out of existence - and found themselves back in the cellar, that had once been la casa del Soldier Guy.

Later that evening

Xander walked down the street. And Lorne walked alongside him, in disguise of course - a hat and sunglasses covering up his horns and eyes.

Soon enough, Xander had fulfilled what the Furies had requested of him. And one of the Soul Stones was now the constant companion of the Furies, so they could monitor Xander's status.

Strange as it was to contemplate, they were now also the potential mothers of Xander's children. And after the deal had been 'finalized', the Furies had transported Harris back to his friends in that dark basement.

Rachael had been angry at what had transpired, and she had certainly let everyone know that. Even though technically it wasn't really her place to say so, basically logic had no place in her rants anymore - and she had torn into Xander, using everything she could think of to convince to give up his insane plan. The spy was now definitely sorry she'd had anything to do with getting Xander to Los Angeles...

But Rachael hadn't been successful, and finally had stormed out of the cellar. And unknown to Xander - she intended to contact the Siberians as soon as she could, to stop the plan in its tracks.

Immediately after she'd left though, Harris had finalized the plans with Oz and Bentallo. And after a hasty goodbye, Xander had departed to meet up with Lorne - who would take him to the law firm's building, in the quickest and most secure way possible these days.

The Host, striding along next to his companion, hurried his pace to keep up. "Well now, you're anxious - aren't you?" the demon asked.

"I just want to get this over with," Xander replied simply.

Lorne could sense Xander had recently had sex, and he could also easily guess as to who with. "All I gotta say, studmuffin, is keep your pants on. You *did* just get them back on, after all..."

Xander sent a sideways look at the Host. And the singing demon hastily added, "Whoa there, lover boy, just joking around with you! You seem pretty antsy, is all."

"Yeah, I know, but life or death situations *do* tend to put a person on edge," Xander replied.

"Hey, tell me about it. Business always goes down at Caritas, when something like that comes up!" Lorne replied.

Unknown to either of them at that moment, two blocks away, Rachael was talking into a cell phone with Esther Marcum. The Israeli secret agent was learning to her horror, that Cleburne was out of the country - and therefore the email to him had not yet been read.

The Siberians knew that the Timetripper was missing, of course, and a Black Alert had been sent out; but they were unaware of just what Xander was planning, and thus no commando teams were here in LA, and ready to go in after him.

There was no time left to lose. The female spy hung up in a panic, and started running towards the Wolfram & Hart building.

Which was where Xander and Lorne had just arrived.

"Well, here you go Mr. Hall. Bad vibes Central, live and in person. I don't know why the hell anyone would want to go in there voluntarily," Lorne looked around nervously.

"Not quite voluntary here," Xander said musingly. "Thanks, Lorne. And if I don't see you again - live long and prosper..." He grinned at how the old geek-speak had just slipped out, and then grasped the demon's hand in gratitude. Something that a relatively short while ago, Harris wouldn't even have considered doing - never in a million years.

Lorne half-smiled, not sure how to respond. He took off his sunglasses, "Hey kid, don't worry. You'll come through fine, I'm sure. Betcha you'll be belting out show tunes at Caritas again, in no time..."

Xander just smiled, and turned around to walk towards the entrance of the law firm. Lorne turned around as well and started walking away, but as he did so - Xander started to hum the Battle Hymn of the Republic, to psych himself up for what lay ahead.

Instantly Lorne whirled around, his eyes widening in sheer horror and disbelief. "No-!" he choked out in a terrified whisper.

Behind him, Rachael turned the corner at the end of the street and screamed in horror and frustration - as she watched Xander walk through the front doors of Wolfram & Hart.

TBC...