***********************************
Part 2

Grinning, Claire watched as Eberts attempted to fire
his crossbow with any sort of accuracy. When the back
room wasn't used for sparring or training, it was
converted into a shooting range so the rest of the
Slayerettes could learn how to use a crossbow with
enough accuracy that they wouldn't be hurting each
other. Claire and Giles were the only two with enough
experience and patience to teach the others how to use
the weapon due to their shared background in the
Watcher's Council.

< I guess you can take the family out of the Watchers
but can't take the Watchers out of the family, > she
mused as Eberts launched another bolt at the crude
dummy erected at the other end of the room. With a
thunk, the wooden bolt embedded itself in the dummy's
throat and Claire giggled. "I suppose that would
incapacitate a vampire long enough to stake it," she
teased, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Well at least I'm no longer hitting it in the knees,"
countered Eberts, cocking his head as he studied the
dummy. "But I'm still confused as to what I am doing
wrong."

The blond ran a critical eye over her companion before
handing him another crossbow bolt. "Reload and try it
again." Eberts struggled slightly as he tried to bend
the arm back far enough to latch it on the lever that
would keep it primed, but he managed to get it loaded
and aimed it once more. He raised it to rest against
his shoulder like a rifle and sited down the bolt
before squeezing the trigger, flinging the bolt at the
dummy where it impaled the cotton-filled man in the
shoulder.

"Ah, there's the problem," mused Claire, waving at his
hands. "You're squeezing the trigger which is raising
your aim slightly. You need to ease the trigger back."
Eberts nodded and loaded another bolt more quickly
than the last time. He raised the crossbow, aimed and
eased the trigger back. The bolt flew through the air
to land squarely in the heart drawn on the dummy.
Eberts grinned as Claire threw her arms around him and
hugged him in celebration. "I knew you could do it!
Now you keep practicing and I'm. going to answer the
phone," she concluded as the ringing caught her
attention.

She left Eberts alone in the back room and made her
way to the front counter, scooping up the phone on the
fourth ring. "Magic Box, Claire speaking. How may I
help you?" she announced as she automatically cradled
the phone with her shoulder.

"Is Giles there?" asked a feminine voice on the other
end.

"I'm afraid he's stepped out for lunch. Can I help you
with something or would you prefer to leave a
message?" Reaching over, Claire managed to grab a
notepad and pen and waited for the message.  Just
then, the bell over the door rang and Claire looked up
as Giles entered the store. "Hold on a moment. He just
came in." She held the phone out to him and shrugged
at his questioning look.

"Giles here," he announced, leaning against the
counter. "Ah, hello Cordelia. To what do we owe this
pleasure?" He was silent for a few minutes as he
listened to Cordelia talk. < Or rant, > mused Claire,
judging from the expression on Giles's face. "Yes I
know who that woman who answered the phone was. Her
name is Claire and she is a new member of our team.
Now, how can I help you, Cordelia?"

Claire watched as various emotions flickered across
his face before settling on concern. "Yes, I will tell
Buffy and the others to keep their eyes open," he
agreed, unconsciously removing his glasses. "As for
your description, I'm afraid that the man doesn't
sound familiar." Now Claire's curiosity was peeked and
she watched as Giles said goodbye and hung up the
phone. He stood motionless until Claire cleared her
throat, snapping him back from wherever his mind had
drifted.

"Tell me Claire, does the description of a man in his
thirties with spiky hair and haunted eyes mean
anything to you?" Giles asked, absently polishing his
glasses before he slid them back on.

"Darien." The name bubbled out of her, startling both
of them before Claire realized that the description
did match her lanky friend. "Why?"

"I'm afraid that trouble is coming," he replied,
glancing at his watch. "Buffy and Willow should be out
of class by now and Xander will be getting off from
work. Call them and tell Willow that the tunnel
entrance will be open for Spike, Darien, and Bobby. If
the description truly is of Darien, I believe we need
to inform the vampires about the danger." With that,
he turned and left Claire standing behind the counter
with a worried expression on her face. Sighing, Claire
picked up the phone and began rounding up the troops.

*******************************************************

A distant ringing broke through the comforting sleep
that had enveloped Spike and he rolled over to snag
the phone. "What?" he growled.

"Sorry to wake you, Spike," apologized Willow, "but
you, Bobby and Darien are needed at the Magic Box.
Giles left the tunnel entrance open for you."

"What's so important, pet?" asked Spike, shaking off
the last remains of his sleep as he climbed out of bed
and grabbed his jeans off of a nearby chair. He
cradled the phone with his shoulder as he pulled the
dark jeans on. If Willow woke him up, he knew it had
to be important.

Willow sighed. "All Claire told me was that Cordelia
called and that whatever's going on might involve
Darien," she explained, automatically lowering her
voice which told him that she was somewhere public.
Since she started working with the Slayer in high
school, Willow had learned to lower her voice when
talking about slaying so no one could over hear her.
"So it looks like we're gonna be busy for the next few
days until whatever is suppose to happen, happens."

Spike grinned. "So I guess my plan for chaining you to
my bed and shagging you into unconsciousness is gonna
be delayed for a bit," he stated, shoving his Doc
Martins on before snagging his usual black tee shirt
and red silk shirt. He managed to juggle the phone and
his shirts as he finished getting dressed.

"Spike!" she cried, giggling. He could picture her,
blushing a bright red as she nervously glanced around
to find out who had overheard her and his grin grew
into a smile. "Just gather up Darien and Bobby and get
them to the Magic Box. We'll talk about chains later."

"Right. I'll get the kiddies up and fed before
bringing them over," he said, running a hand through
his bleached blond hair. It fell in curls and waves
without the usual hair gel to hold it in place and he
frowned. He was definitely going to have to deal with
that before he went anywhere. It wasn't that he was
vain about his looks, but he could hardly fight if his
hair kept flopping in his eyes.  "Talk to you soon,
love."

Hanging up, Spike dashed into the bathroom and dragged
a brush over his hair before slicking it back in its
usual style. He snagged his duster before storming
down the hall towards the kitchen. Before he reached
the kitchen, he stopped before the door to the
guestroom and pounded on the door until he heard
someone stir behind the wood.

"Get yer arses in gear," growled Spike as he resisted
the urge to groan at how much like his own father he
sounded. True, Darien and Bobby often teased Willow
about being their "mother" but Spike was hardly what
anyone would consider "father" material. Sire, yes.
Father, no.

The door opened to reveal a rumpled Darien who was
peering at him with sleep-clouded eyes. "What's
wrong?" asked the lanky vampire as he ran a hand
through his mussed hair.

"Red called. We're needed at the Magic Shop. Get
dressed and grab something out of the fridge," stated
Spike in a voice that held no room for argument. "If
this turns into a research session, we won't have time
to grab something later." Something in Spike's tone
must have alerted the younger vampire that this was
serious because his warm chocolate eyes widened
slightly and he nodded once before ducking back into
the room to wake his sire. Spike smirked slightly as
he heard Darien trying to rouse Bobby from the bed,
and left the two alone to get ready.

By the time the younger vampires stumbled into the
kitchen, Spike had finished his mug and had two more
prepared for them. Darien quickly drained his and
nodded his thanks to Spike while Bobby made a face at
the thought of drinking out of a glass instead of a
human but at Spike's glare, he too drank. Before they
could do much more than rinse out their mugs, Spike
handed them thick blankets Willow had purchased for
emergencies and hurried them out the door and into the
nearest sewer entrance with only swears and few burns.

"Ugh! What are we doing in the sewers?" asked Bobby,
his face twisted in disgust. "I thought we had to get
to the Magic Box?"

"And how do you propose to get there without turning
into piles of ashes, mate?" inquired Spike, raising
his scarred eyebrow as he turned and started down the
tunnel. "These run all over Sunnyhell and even hook up
to some natural caves near the school."

Darien laughed. "A vampire's private system to get
anywhere needed during the day without the fear of
getting burned," he stated, falling in beside Spike
while Bobby glared at their surroundings before
hurrying to catch up with them.

After several minutes of twisting and turning tunnels,
Spike stopped before a ladder and easily climbed to
the top where he was momentarily stopped by a metal
trap door set in the stone ceiling. Casually, he slid
the deadbolt back and shoved the trap door up without
so much as a squeak of protest from its hinges. He
emerged to find himself in a back storage room with
boxes scattered around and turned to help Darien and
Bobby up. A familiar heartbeat filled his ears and
Spike turned to find Willow opening the door.

"Hello luv," he purred, wrapping his arms around her
and holding her close as he buried his nose in her red
hair. She always smelled of apples and spice with
sunshine warming them, and he hoped that when he
finally did turn her that she never lost that
wonderful scent. "Missed waking up with you in my
arms."

Giggling, Willow reached up and locked her hands
behind Spike's neck. "Poor baby," she soothed, her
emerald eyes sparkling mischievously. "How can I ever
make it up to you?"

Grinning, Spike lowered his head until his lips were a
breath away from hers. "I have a few ideas," he
whispered before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss.
He was dimly aware of the other two vampires slipping
past him to leave the room, but he was more interested
in the tempting redhead in his arms. Moaning
pleasantly, she pressed her body against his in a
teasing manner coaxing a groan from him and he finally
broke away from her delicious mouth. "We'll pick this
up later, luv."

Willow nodded and together they left the storage room
to join the others gathered in the front room.
Claiming a stuffed chair far enough away from the
windows to avoid the sun, Spike pulled Willow into his
lap and rested a hand on her hip. "So what's so
important that you had to wake me up from a very nice
dream?" demanded the peroxide blond vampire.

All eyes turned to Giles and the Watcher removed his
glasses, idly polishing them. "Cordelia called today
because she had a vision regarding a man she described
as in his thirties with spiky hair and haunted eyes,"
he began, replacing his glasses. "Angel will be
driving down after sunset to help."

"Why is this Cordelia having visions about Darien?"
demanded Bobby, his voice bordering on a growl.

"She is sent visions from the Powers That Be to direct
Angel who to help," replied Giles.

"The Powers That Be what?" interrupted Xander, a
confused expression on his face.

"They get that a lot," Darien remarked, his eyes
distant with memories that only he could see.

Sighing, the Watcher looked around at everyone there.
"If I may continue?" he asked. When no one objected,
he nodded once. "All she told me was that she saw two
groups, one composed of humans and the other of
vampires. While the vampires were openly pursuing the
man, the humans were hiding in an ambush. So all of
you, keep your eyes open for an increase in activity."

When Giles moved off to lean against the counter,
Buffy stood up. "Okay, anyone have any ideas how to
handle this?"

Willow shrugged. "Simple. We keep Darien with either
Buffy or Spike at all times until Angel arrives with
more details," she stated before turning to look at
Spike. "Think you could get anything out of Willie
about a new group of vamps in town?"

"Easy, Red," he replied, a cruel grin stretching
across his face. "As soon as the sun goes down, I'll
wander over for a pint and information."

Darien frowned. "Why not head over now? Don't the
tunnels reach that far?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah they do, mate, but Willie has
sealed the entrance in his place." He shrugged, the
leather duster creaking with the movement. "Besides,
he won't be there until nearly sunset anyway."

Giles sighed. "Well that still leaves us with three
hours until sunset," he announced after checking his
watch.

Claire frowned slightly as Eberts bent to whisper in
her hear and she nodded. "Darien, can I talk to you
for a moment?" she inquired, rising to her feet.
Darien and Bobby exchanged puzzled looks before Darien
shrugged and followed the blond into a corner for an
illusion of privacy. Spike wrapped his arms around
Willow's waist and enjoyed the feel of her slender
form resting against his cool body as he casually
listened to the conversation across the room.

"Darien, now that you no longer need the monitor, I
can remove it and leave the tattoo behind if you
wish," remarked Claire, her voice soft and betraying
none of her feelings. "Or if you want the tattoo and
the monitor removed, I can also do that."

It was silent for a few minutes as Darien thought
about the offer, before sighing. "I'm not sure,
Claire," he replied. "Gimmie some time to think about
it." A rueful chuckle escaped him. "I honestly thought
that I'd be stuck with this thing until the day I
died, but that seems like a moot point right now." His
statement drew a small laugh from Claire before they
rejoined the rest of the group.

"Okay, since it seems like Darien is the target here,
how 'bout some extra combat practice?" suggested
Bobby, trying hard to look nonchalant, but Spike could
see the tension in his childe's stocky frame and
understood it completely. A group of unknowns were
after Darien, Bobby's childe and almost mate, and that
invoked the shorter vampire's protective instincts.
Apparently Darien also recognized the tension in his
sire and just nodded as he gestured for Bobby to
precede him into the back room.

Spike tightened his grip on Willow and rested his head
on her bright red hair. He had a feeling that this was
going to get worse before it got better and he hated
feelings like that since he usually ended up loosing
someone he cared about.
*************************************************************

Samuel Blokesdale stared at the items he had scattered
across the cheap bedspread, making sure he had enough
supplies to last his assignment in Sunnydale. He had
been surprised that the Council had sent a team of
watchers to the Hellmouth and even more surprised when
they put him in charge of the mission. His assignment
was simple: locate the vampire known as the Child of
the Crimson Redemption and kill it permanently.

< A vampire that restores the souls of other vampires
is dangerous,> Samuel mused, running a hand through
his graying hair. He was a bit on the pudgy side,
showing the effects of being stuck behind a desk at
the Council Headquarters, but the Council trusted him
with this mission and he was not about to fail them.

A polite knock on his door startled him out of his
thoughts and he scooped up a cross and stake as he
started for the door. Carefully, he opened it as far
as the safety chain would allow and peered through the
opening at the dark young man that stood in the
hallway. The man's very appearance screamed at his
watcher instincts and Samuel knew that this was a
vampire. "If you're looking for dinner, I suggest you
look elsewhere, vampire," stated Samuel in a casual
tone.

The vampire grinned, revealing even white teeth. "No,
Watcher, I am not here for a bite to eat," he replied
in a smooth voice. "I believe we both are here for the
same reason."

"Oh? And what would that be?" inquired Samuel, raising
a questioning eyebrow.

The vampire spread his hands in a peaceful gesture.
"The death of the Accursed One, known better as the
Crimson Childe." The calm tone never wavered, but the
nearly black eyes widened slightly at the statement.
"I suggest that since both of our parties are
interested in the same thing that perhaps we could
pool our resources to accomplish this goal."

Samuel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do I know
that I can trust you?" he demanded in a harsh voice.

"I know you have many weapons against me in your room,
but if I could come in to discuss this like civilized
people?" The vampire gestured slightly to the barely
opened door. Samuel frowned as he thought about what
the creature standing there had said. If he was to be
believed, then he was here with a group of vampires
who were also after the death of the Crimson Childe
who was obviously seen as a threat against the vampire
community.

Samuel closed the door long enough to remove the
safety chain and opened the door again to allow the
vampire to brush past him into the room. Locking the
door behind his visitor, Samuel was able to get a good
look at the vampire for the first time. He had
shoulder length brown hair that was pulled back into a
ponytail and a dark suit that made him appear like any
other professional businessman instead of the walking
corps that he really was. With a predator's grace, the
vampire strolled across the room and sank into the
only chair in the room, which was far enough from the
scattering of crosses and bottles of holy water on the
bed to give him some comfort.

"Now what do you wish to discuss, Mr." Samuel waited
for the vampire to supply his name.

"Martin, childe of Miriam, Order of Thesulus,"
announced the vampire in the traditional demon way.

A chill ran down Samuel's back. That name and order
were well known to any Watcher that bothered to study
the Diaries. "Miriam, the Shadow Queen of Thesulus."
The title was whispered into the air and Martin
smiled, smugly.

"Of coarse a Watcher of your caliber would know of my
sire," he said, inclining his head slightly. "But
enough pleasantries. On to business." He straightened
in his chair as Samuel began gathering up the various
items on the bed and replacing them in a bag. "With me
are a childe from each of the twelve oldest Orders,
including mine, along with minions of each order. I
have been instructed by my sire to dust the Accursed
One any way possible, and if that means teaming up
with a group of Watchers, so be it."

"And how do you propose that this agreement works?"
inquired Samuel, feeling back on level ground with the
bargaining. If he did strike a bargain with Martin, he
only hoped that the Council would understand and maybe
he would get the chance to dust the creature once the
Crimson Childe was dead.

Martin shrugged, elegantly. "Simple. We can herd the
Accursed One into an ambush that you will spring as
well as take care of anyone who tries to protect him."

Samuel frowned slightly, in thought this time instead
of discomfort. "The Crimson Childe is with the
Slayer," he announced, thinking out loud. "Your
minions should be able to keep her busy long enough
for us to stake the Childe."

A slight frown flashed over Martin's face before it
settled back into the emotionless mask. "This Slayer,
would she be the one that defeated Nest and the
Judge?" When Samuel nodded, recognizing the given name
for the Master of the Order of Aurelius, Martin
sighed. "This will be more of a challenge than I
originally anticipated."

He rose to his feet and Samuel grabbed a cross and
stake again. The vampire smirked at the Watcher's
actions before moving towards the door. "I shall talk
with the others and let you know our decision." With
that, he allowed the door to close behind him and
Samuel sighed with relief as he sank onto the bed.
Scooping up his cell phone, he quickly dialed a
well-known number and waited for someone to pick up on
the other end.

"This is Samuel Blokesdale. Please put me through to
Mr. Henry Goldlum," he requested, trying to ignore the
slight throbbing that had started behind his eyes. He
had a feeling that this conversation was not going to
go well.

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