Desired - The Multi Fandom Crossover Archive

"Will do, ma'am."

Chapter Two: Sailors and Vipers

----
Sunday, 1755 hours
Pier 13
Sunnydale Harbor
----

"Well, guys, here goes." The seven hangar-deck mechanics tromped down the aluminum staircase from the Reprisal to the dock, ready to go track down their five comrades and get them out of whatever trouble they were into. Or get into it with them. It was an old Navy tradition.

In the shadows of the nearby warehouses, a young woman stared at them hopefully. "Ah, Miss Kendall," she said to herself, "didn't your grandfather always talk about those bar brawls at Pearl in forty-five, with all those Navy hunks coming to each other's aid?"

----
Sunday, 1815 hours
Outside the Bronze
Sunnydale
----

Hinsley tapped his wrench against his open palm. "They've got to be around here somewheres."

Just then, Ricardo Valencia popped out of a shadow behind him. "Right here, Hinsley."

"What happened to you guys?"

"I did." An unfamiliar, blonde girl popped out from behind a Dumpster a few meters further down the alley. "Join the Navy, see the world." And then her face twisted into its true demonic visage. "And all its dark underbellies, I say." Harmony Kendall laughed as her minions set upon the seven Navy men, and each was having his blood drained within a count of ten.

----
Monday, 0800 hours (Eastern Time)
JAG HQ
Falls Church, Virginia
----

"The Admiral would like to see you, ma'am." Tiner announced as the coldhearted Lieutenant Lauren Singer breezed in, her parchment-brown hair up in its usual bun.

"Thank you, Tiner." She stormed into the office as calmly as possible. The grizzled, balding ex-SEAL Admiral in charge of the Navy's legal division looked up. "Reporting as ordered, Admiral Chegwidden."

A.J. nodded. "Tiner?" He asked the enlistedman closing the door. "Arrange transport for one to the Reprisal."

"Yes, sir."

A.J. waited for the door to close, then began. "The Reprisal reported five hangar-deck mechanics AWOL yesterday. An additional seven did not report in today. The ship's Marines have only a single lead - all of them were on liberty, apparently attending a local club called the Bronze. It's in Sunnydale,
California, where the Reprisal is conducting a port visit until next weekend. I'm sending you out to Sunnydale to investigate their disappearances."

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to check in with Tiner or the night watch here every six hours. And immediately upon arrival in Sunnydale."

"Aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

Singer stalked out to Tiner's desk. "Ma'am, I've got you a flight to North Island NAS in San Diego, a driver to the civilian airport, and a civilian flight
from San Diego to Sunnydale. Oh, and a rental car in Sunnydale."

"It's not Southwest Airlines, is it?"

"Actually, it is, ma'am. Your ticket will be waiting at the counter at San Diego Airport."

Singer rolled her eyes. "I prefer airlines with assigned seating."

"Your flight to North Island leaves Norfolk in an hour and a half, ma'am. I've got a driver out front for you."

"Thank you, Tiner." But Singer didn't look happy.

----
Monday, 0900 Hours
Counseling Office
Sunnydale High School
----

Xander leaned over the corner of Buffy's cubicle. "Everyone reported in this morning."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "After a whole weekend? That's a new one."

"Yes, but the word is out on the Navy guys. They're missing something like twenty or thirty guys now."

"Hmm. Someone's got a grudge against sailors, maybe?"

Willow piped up over the speakerphone. "Maybe not. They have basic training, boot camp, like that, right?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. Physical training and all that."

"So maybe...." Willow's voice trailed off. "Someone's recruiting an army."

Buffy wrinkled her eyebrows. "But why an army of sailors? And why wouldn't they go back to the shi.... wait, you mean vampire sailors." She looked around to make sure nobody'd overheard, but fortunately, the other cubicles were empty.

Xander cringed. "Vampire sailors? But they have physicals and stuff in the Navy. They would have been detected."

Buffy frowned. "Not if they got vamped here in town. Maybe that's why they disappeared."

Willow cleared her throat. "Hate to say this Buff, but if someone's lining up an army of vampire Navy guys, they've got a plan for what to do with it. And you have a lot of enemies who've tried to go after you one-on-one before."

"Not a lot. A lot of them got staked."

"But the ones that survived... might try to get an army of vampires to go after you. Like Harmony did, remember when she tried to call you out?"

"Yeah, I remember."

----
Monday, 1100 Hours
NAS North Island
San Diego, CA
----

"Lieutenant Singer?" the Marine driver asked, his Marine-green Humvee sitting not far away on the tarmac. She'd had to fly out on a COD, a plane normally reserved for delivering mail and fresh foods to aircraft carriers; as such it was noisy and not-at-all comfy, but at least this trip had not also involved "trapping" on a carrier. That was perhaps the single most uncomfortable thing she'd ever experienced - landing on an aircraft carrier while seated in the uncomfortable, sideways seats alotted for passengers in the front of a COD, and being jolted by the sudden deceleration of the trapwires. But the Reprisal was in port, and aircraft carriers needed the extra airflow of sailing at top speed into the wind to conduct flight ops. So she'd landed on a proper runway instead.

"That's me." Lauren descended the final step, clad in her work blues. The Marine, in desert-camo gear, saluted.

"They sent me down from Miramar, ma'am. I'm supposed to drive you over to the civvie airport for a Southwest flight at 1525 local. It's now 1100. I suggest we get you lunch and get you to the airport, ma'am."

"Anywhere you would suggest? I could use a good cheeseburger." Lauren's diet had been hampered in that department of late, as one of her coworkers had blackmailed her into pretending to be Jewish at the office, complete with getting her the days off for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

"There's a good fast-food joint I like on Thirtieth Street, ma'am." The Marine offered as he hefted her bags into the cargo deck of the Humvee, under a clear blue California sky.

"Let's roll." Lauren ordered, as she piled into the passenger seat. Within minutes they'd exited the naval base - one of several in the area, she knew -
and were headed deep into the city on a bewildering maze of one-way streets named after trees.

"There's a pileup on the eight at Texas, ma'am. Traffic's bad over there, so this'll be shorter." He swung the Humvee around a corner and onto Park Avenue, passing the naval hospital. "Just a quick cut through Balboa Park, and we'll practically be there."

Sure enough, moments later, they were on Thirtieth Street and pulling into a crowded burger-joint parking lot. Many of the vehicles were sporting bumper stickers from some Catholic school, she noticed. She shrugged it off, and her and the Marine - she hadn't bothered to ask his name - headed inside.

The inside of the Jack in the Box was a madhouse. A portrait of a business-suited man with a clown's head greeted them just inside the door, and about
three dozen seventeen-year-old boys were lined up at the counter. Every one of them wearing some form of purple. "Some sort of convention, Marine? All these guys in purple?"

"No. Lunch hour at the Catholic boys' high school. It's only a few blocks away, purple is one of their colors, and the seniors are allowed off campus lunch. Sorry for the delay, ma'am."

Lauren relented. After all, she was going to put up with this Marine for a few hours yet. "So," waving at the menu board, "What do you recommend?"

"The Ultimate Cheeseburger, ma'am. It's a double with nothing on it."

"Sounds like heaven." Lauren beamed. Maybe this trip to California wasn't all bad after all. "I'll have that, a large fries and a large strawberry shake." She
palmed him a ten. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Of course, ma'am." He even pointed her toward the restroom. Well, after coming off a transcontinental COD, it wasn't hard to figure out she was headed for the ladies' room.

----
Monday, 0910 Hours (Hawaii Time)
Courtroom One
Naval Station Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
----

Mac looked at the members, at the judge, and at Harm, then back to the members, starting her opening arguments. "The government will prove that the Captain, while in command of the guided missile destroyer U.S.S. John Glover, did knowingly and willfully ignore a standing order, which has been in place for over fifty years, that his ship render honors to the battleship U.S.S. Arizona - a tomb for honored American war casualties - upon entering Pearl Harbor on August 27th, by countermanding orders by his XO to carry out those honors. This is not only a lawful order, but one that has been in place for as long as every person in this court has served in the Navy, and is common practice for ships of the Pacific Fleet. And yet, this Captain decided that the normal course of shipboard operations was more important than paying respects, as ordered, to one of the most famous and moving war memorials in this country. This was in direct violation of a lawful order and a dereliction of his duties."

The judge smiled as Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie returned to her seat. "Thank you, Colonel Mackenzie. Now, we will hear the defense's opening arguments. Commander Rabb?"

The Commander rose, but did not leave his seat. "The defense will prove that, as all of his previous service had been in the Altantic Fleet, the newly assigned Captain of the U.S.S. John Glover was not aware of this standing order, which is decades old and applies only to Naval Station Pearl Harbor, which he had never visited prior to the incident in question. His only crime was ignorance of this standing order." He quickly sat down. Mac could tell, by Harm's stiff posture and short argument, that not only did Harm think he didn't have a case, but that he himself disagreed with the man's actions. And as he was the son of a shot-down fighter pilot, as well as a former fighter pilot himself, she could totally understand that.

But he had come up with a defense. Ignorance of the law wasn't an often effective defense, but it was about all he had other than temporary insanity or
claiming the accusation false - and there were too many witnesses for the latter. Mac leaned back, twirling a pen very slowly. Then the judge spoke up.
"Colonel, call your first witness..."

----
Monday, 1350 Hours (Pacific Time)
Southwest Airlines Ticket Counter
San Diego International Airport
----

Lauren smiled at the ticket agent. "That's right, Lieutenant Lauren Singer, US Navy." She pulled a note out of her pocket. "I had reservations called in this morning from my office in Virginia..."

"Ah, here it is. Someone mis-entered your name, it's showing here as Laura Stinger. Flight 1977 to Sunnydale, departing at 3:25. Just the one ticket?" She glanced at the Marine escorting Singer.

"I'm just her driver, ma'am. Drove her over from North Island."

"Ah, I see. Well, we can take your bags here, and your flight will be departing from gate three, which is upstairs."

Lauren nodded. "Thank you." She took her boarding pass, dismissed her Marine escort, and headed for the security checkpoint at the foot of the escalators.

----
Monday, 1525 Hours
SWA Flight 1977
Departing San Diego International Airport
----

Lauren glanced over the safety card that the flight attendant had handed her. She'd managed a seat in one of the emergency-exit rows of the small jet, located just above the right wing. It wasn't nice, but it was much more comfortable and had almost as much legroom as the seat on the COD. Plus, bonus points, it was facing forward, the plane was sound insulated, and they both served drinks and had a restroom. If it wasn't for the twelve-year-old Navy brat sitting next to her, the flight would have been perfect.

"Are you really in the Navy? My dad's in the Navy. He's a landing signal officer on the Stennis."

"That's in San Diego. Why are you going to Sunnydale?"

"My grandma lives there. She's a teacher. But dad says there are scary monsters in Sunnydale, so we only go there when he's at sea. Are there really scary monsters in Sunnydale, Lieutenant?"

My, the boy knew how to read sleeve stripes. A definite Navy brat. "I don't know, I've never been there. But I did hear something interesting." Lauren
leaned over and used the scariest whisper-voice she knew, just as the plane started rolling on the runway. About three years ago, the whole town lost their voices."

The kid looked at her with big eyes. "But... grandma..."

"It was only for two days." She leaned back in her seat, smirking as the G-forces of takeoff pressed her back into it.

The kid pulled out a Harry Potter book, previously wedged under his seatbelt. "Grandma said the school exploded."

Singer raised an eyebrow. She had forgotten that one. "Well, I'm sure everyone got out safely."

"Hope so. My daddy went to school there. And Grandma said she knew some of the teachers."

"What grade does your grandma teach?"

"Kindergarten. Dumb little kiddies, they gotta have help going to the potty."

Singer rolled her eyes. Perhaps the kid would start reading, and this flight wouldn't be like this all the way. Then he started reading out loud, and she
moaned. A chapter in, she'd already heard more than she ever wanted to about Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

----
Monday, 1630 Hours
Sun City Rent-A-Car Booth
Sunnydale Airport
----

"Laura Stinger?"

"No, Lauren Singer. But the airport in San Diego made the same mistake. I think the guy who called in my reservations mispronounced it or something. He does have a Virginia accent, after all."

"I guess. The rest of your details match, even your Virginia driver's license number." The clerk handed her a small folder and a set of keys. "All we had left was a navy blue Dodge Viper convertible. It's in our parking lot; we have a free shuttle to take you out there. And a piece of friendly advice?"

Lauren looked attentive, after signing her name on the forms and handing them back. "What?"

"Don't drive around with your top down at night."

"Why not?"

"In Sunnydale, people have a way of... dying at night. In huge numbers. The high school yearbook even has its own obituaries. Every year."

Lauren blinked. "Gang violence? Drugs? Street crime?"

"Depends on who you ask, Lieutenant. Good day. Next!"

----
Monday, 1830 Hours
1400 Block, Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Lauren was driving around town, wind in her hair (which she'd finally let out of its bun) and enjoying the power of the Dodge Viper on the quiet side streets of this California beach town. She'd already prowled nearly every street on the map. Except downtown and the harbor. Perhaps it was time to go check in with the Reprisal. Then her stomach growled. Perhaps food first. Maybe she could find another of those delightful Jack in the Boxes.

Just then she passed a house where a twenty-something redhead was carefully pruning a large tree in the front yard. Or at least, as much of the huge tree as she could reach. Lauren pulled over in front of the house, 1630 Revello Drive. She killed the engine and called out, "Ma'am?"

The girl on the stepladder started a little, dropping the pruning shears. She quickly ran down the steps and out to the sidewalk, blinking at the Navy chick in the Viper, who was busy removing her sunglasses. "Nice wheels. Can I help you?"

"Could you direct me to the nearest Jack in the Box, Miss...."

"Rosenberg. Sure. Down that way," she pointed, "Left at the third cemetery, then right at the blue funeral home, and it's down six blocks on the left, next to the Casket Warehouse." She stepped back as Lauren nodded, and started up the Viper. As she slipped it into gear, Ms. Rosenberg added, "I'd put the top up if I were you!"

Chapter Three: Lawyers and Vampires

----
Monday, 1855 Hours
The Viper
Jack in the Box Drive-thru
Sunnydale
----

"Can I take your order?" squawked the staticy speaker.

Lauren tipped her sunglasses down a touch. "Ultimate Cheeseburger, large fries, large Coke. And a small order of mozarella sticks."

"That'll be $8.58 at the window... thank you."

Lauren shifted, letting the engine purr its way forward at barely more than an idle. She was really learning to enjoy driving a machine with this much power. And she was starting to understand why that infuriating Commander Rabb still got himself rides in Tomcats at every opportunity. She reached the window, smiling briefly at the ingenious advertisement plastered to the window, where a battered Jack antenna ball was muttering "must... rest... bring in... substitute." Alongside the price for a new antenna ball, a mere dollar. The little foam clown head did look kinda cute. But Commander Turner would hear about the Ultimate Cheeseburgers and blackmail her some more about having claimed to be Jewish. Plus it'd ruin the ice-queen image she kept up at JAG. Too bad, she sighed.

And that got her thinking about today. That young girl who'd given her directions... she'd had a Jewish name herself. Rosenberg. Just screamed Jewish.
But she was out trimming trees and giving people directions. Did Jewish people do that? She honestly wasn't sure. Oops... she'd almost missed the attendant. She palmed her second ten-dollar bill of the day to the drive-thru lady - an older lady sporting a sizeable silver cross necklace. People in this town were just so odd. Using cemeteries and funeral homes as landmarks, too.

She collected her food and glanced forward before she slipped the Viper back into gear. And something caught her eye. Ever since she'd had cable TV, she'd gotten a perverse pleasure in looking at the programming menu and combining the (often partial) titles of shows on on adjacent channels at the same time. Like "Wheel of... World's Worst... Classic Tractors." But the one she'd just seen on the strip-mall menu board took the cake.

Jack in the Box... Casket Warehouse.

She laughed as she pulled away, sliding the car effortlessly back into traffic and heading for high ground. She always loved watching the sun set over the ocean. A pity it was impossible in Virginia. Or D.C.

----
Monday, 1600 Hours (Hawaii Time)
U.S.S. Arizona Memorial
Naval Station Pearl Harbor
----

"Harm, this is what we're talking about." She pointed out the window at the Aegis cruiser coming into port, its rails manned and its flag at half mast.
Every man on the rails was saluting directly toward them. As if on cue, they all snapped to smartly, and returned to their duties, as the flag was slowly hoisted back to full staff. No, not the flag, she noticed. The new regulations. It was the original Navy Jack. No stars, a simple thirteen stripes, with a superimposed snake and "Don't Tread on Me" emblazoned across the lowermost white stripe. Mac turned to look at her... well, friend. They'd worked against each other on dozens of cases, and together on nearly as many. In court, she thought, they made good adversaries. Each dangerous enough to keep the other sharp.

"I know, Mac. I've served in the Pacific Fleet, you know. I've manned the rails for the Arizona a dozen times. More, even. But that's not the...."

"Yes, it is, and we both know it, Harm. Talk to your client. You know the offer."

"Reduction to the bottom of the seniority list, loss of half pay for a month, and forty hours of community service here at the memorial?" She nodded. "I'll talk to him, but he still doesn't seem to understand that ignorance is not a viable defense in most cases. He thinks I can get him off."

Ah-ha! Mac grinned a little, then stopped herself. She'd known he didn't think he could win. "So where do you think we'll end up next?"

She cocked her head a bit. "California or Iceland. Maybe Bremerton."

"Explain."

"The last assignment we had was twelve timezones from Washington. This one was six. If the pattern holds, the next one would be three."

Harm shook his head at her uncanny sense of time. "So what time is it back at headquarters now?"

"Twenty-two hundred."

"And I bet Lieutenant Singer's still in the office, figuring out how she can have our jobs by the time your pattern has us back in Virginia."

"Sounds about right." Mac grinned. "And Harriet's probably arguing with Bud about watching the ten o'clock news rather than some old sci-fi rerun."

Harm could play this game too. "And Tiner's probably figuring out how to make his coffee even more horrible and make the Admiral more annoyed at him so he doesn't notice the stunts we pull."

Mac smiled. "And Commander Turner's probably researching Judaism again."

"What?" Harm looked alarmed. "But he's not... his father's a minister..."

"Oh, it's not that. He likes to needle Singer about her being Jewish. Point out all the little ways she's not following halachic law. Which of course means he has to look it up to know what the rules are. Pretty soon she'll be asking to go home early on Friday nights." She smirked. "Funny thing is..." she started to head out, and Harm instinctively fell into step beside her, "Sometimes I think he knows more about being Jewish than she does."

----
Monday, 1920 Hours
The Viper
Somewhere near Lover's Lane
Sunnydale
----

Singer smiled, watching the sun settle over the sea, the massive aircraft carrier tied up at the pier glinting in the sunset. The whole town lay spread
out before her, from its mission architecture and tiled rooves to its shamelessly commercial restaurant marquees and a university belltower. She could learn to like it here. If she ever planned on retiring from the Navy. Which she didn't.

The last arc of the sun settled behind a row of softly rolling waves that looked miles out at sea. The coastline stretching off into the distance helped with the illusion; the coastline here ran east-to-west, so she'd had to find a good spot indeed to be able to see the sun set over the ocean instead of the hills west of town. She sighed, pulling off her shades as the gold of the sky quickly began to fade into oranges and then, quickly, into greens. She turned to retrieve her cheeseburger - in Sunnydale, who cared that a cheeseburger wasn't kosher? Except perhaps that Rosenberg girl? - from the passenger seat, and noticed the sky behind her had already reached into blues and purples. The sun was setting fast tonight, probably because of the too-clear sky. She checked her watch and wondered how long it'd be until she saw stars.

She finished the meal and tossed aside the wrapper onto the passenger side floorboard of the wonderful car. She'd just lain a hand on the key - still in
the ignition - when she saw stars. Several of them. Radiating from a fist that had connected with her jaw. She turned, seeing... what? It certainly dressed
human, but this thing had glowing golden eyes and a face like something out of one of Lieutenant Roberts' sci-fi programs. And long blonde hair and a horrible fashion sense. The Barbie look was just not in this season.

"Hi. I'm Harmony Kendall. Give me the keys." it said, a low rumble undertoning her voice. Lauren complied. After all, it was just a rental. Even if it was a Viper! "Get out of the car." Okay, normal carjacking type stuff. Singer vaulted over the stick shift, unlocked and slid out the passenger side door.

Of course, now she was trapped between the Viper, a steep drop, and a still-warm station wagon with peeling paint that had just pulled up next to the Viper. The thing that called itself - herself? - Harmony Kendall smirked at the driver as he opened the door, boxing Singer in. Harmony simply vaulted over the hood of the sports car, landing between the two cars' front tires. "You must be that pretty JAG lawyer the Navy guys said would come. I want to talk. Just talk. For now."

Lauren swallowed, but said nothing, her ice-princess facade slipping into place.

"Oh, don't pull the ice-queen act on me, I've seen Drusilla pull that crap enough. Listen. I've got a teensy problem here in town. You're not going to
believe me at first so just shut up. There's this girl. She's been divaly chosen..."

"I think you mean divinely chosen," Lauren piped up, timidly.

"Right. To kill my kind. And she's too smart. I've tried going after her, her friends, even with a few guys on my side. But none of that worked. And I've SO got to kill her."

"So..."

"Well then your pretty aircraft carrier comes to town. With a whole boatload of these nice, young, physically fit men. I say, a few dozen of these and I can kill Buffy Summers six times over. Then they send you out. The government's gotten into the biz out here before, and all they did was muck things up and... well, they did get rid of Spikey for me. So we've got to kill you to keep you from bringing the government to town."

"But you said you just wanted to talk."

"For now. You see, I don't have to leave you dead."

"What?"

"Miss..." Harmony read her nametag. "Singer. I'm sure you've heard about vampires, werewolves, stuff like that. If you are bitten by one, under certain
circumstances, you become one. Right now I can use all the help I can get. So I offer you this choice."

"What choice, miss... Kendall?"

Harmony nodded. "You see, I can leave you dead on the ground and take this way-cool car, or I can make you a vampire and you can keep the car. As long as you promise to help me."

Singer considered. If this girl had only such a short-range plan... and her "warriors" were Navy sailors... and she was a Navy officer... well then they'd
naturally look to her when their "orders" ran out, now wouldn't they? So after this Buffy girl was toast, she'd have her own private army. Lauren smiled. "I'll help you. So what does this... becoming... entail exactly?"

"I drink your blood. Not all of it, of course, but enough. And you... you drink some of mine. To replenish you, and to change you."

"How much?"

Harmony considered. "A mouthful will do, I think." She batted at the cheeseburger wrapper, which had fluttered up to her face in the breeze.
"Probably tastes better than this we-don't-make-it-until-you-order-it crap. I like my food there when I go looking for it."

----
Monday, 2000 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

"Hey Dawnie, ya gotta stop doing that." Willow called from the kitchen as Dawn fingered her queen's knight.

Xander grinned. "You do always lead with your knights, Dawn." He pointed to her gleaming black chesspieces. "And that whole row of pawns."

"I don't like pawns." She said, half-between her teeth. "They remind me of keys. Always getting put in situations where they just don't quite fit. And getting stuffed in other people's pockets."

Buffy turned from the TV. "Dawnie, stop it. You're a human. Not just a key or a pawn or whatever."

"But that's just it! I'll always be a key and a pawn too. Even Harmony thinks so!"

"Har... Harmony?" Buffy couldn't help but giggle. Sure, Harmony had declared herself to be Buffy's archenemy. But she'd had quite a few more intelligent, more cunning, more sneaky archenemies before. In fact, pretty much all of them.

"Remember when she kidnapped me to get to you?" Then she defiantly grabbed her queen's knight and plunked it down in the corner of the open center of the board, in front of the pawn in front of her queen's castle.

----
Monday, 2145 Hours
The Viper
Sunnydale
----

"So how does this work exactly?"

"Well, the basic stories. We kill people, feed on their blood. Wooden stakes, beheading, fire, sunlight, holy water... not things you want to mess with."
Harmony giggled. "And government commando soldiers with tranq guns."

"You were serious?" Lauren asked. Or the thing that had been Lauren Singer. She still wore the Navy uniform, but her features were a bit more... feral. And she'd kept the sunglasses. She hadn't got used to not seeing herself in the mirror yet. With sunglasses at night, she could barely see at all. Which suited her well, as it had been a long day. A very long day. And her last.

"Yeppers!" Harmony bubbled, spinning the car's wheel a bit more than necessary at an intersection. "Lauren, take those glasses off. I've got to show you
something." She pointed at a house.

Lauren could have sworn it was that Jewish girl's house. Rosenberg.

"That's where your... vampire slayer lives?"

"Yep. Sixteen-thirty Revello Drive, ever since we were in tenth grade. Buffy lived in L.A. before that."

"Buffy? What kind of name is Buffy Rosenberg?"

Harmony laughed her all-too-high-pitched laugh. "Two different people. She's brought that witch Rosenberg to live with her since her mother died. Buffy's name is Summers. She's also got a little sister named Dawn. Or younger I should say, she's the tallest of their whole bunch. Even stupid Xander."

Lauren spoke up. "Since we're just looking, perhaps we should go before anyone notices us."

"Anyone like..."

"Your slayer. Or Miss Rosenberg, who gave me driving directions a few hours ago. And what's this about her being a witch? I thought she was Jewish."

"So did I. Till Cordy told me about the gypsies. But that was ages ago..." Harmony gunned the engine and they were off. "Let's go get us a few more
sailors, and I'll show you what I did to you. We need all we can get."

In the distance behind them, Spike smirked. "So... Harmony's going after the bloody Slayer again. This, I gotta see...."

----
Tuesday, 0830 Hours (Eastern)
JAG HQ
Falls Church, VA
----

"Admiral?"

"What is it, Tiner?"

"Lieutenant Singer never checked in when she got to Sunnydale. I checked with her airline and her rental car company. She did get to Sunnydale and did pick up her car. But there's no trace of her after that. She never called in, there's no hotels in her name, and she never signed onto the Reprisal."

"So you think..."

"She's missing too, sir."

"Who do we have we can send out there?" He glanced around the office. All his big guns were out of town already.

"Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb are in court in Pearl, sir. I could arrange for them to go to Sunnydale on their way back. Word is they might be finished today."

"Do that. What's the Reprisal's missing count up to?"

"They haven't done morning roll yet, sir... it's 0530 there. But according to the security logs, it looks like forty-two. Plus Singer."

"Damn it, this is escalating. Where could forty sailors be in a town that size?" The Admiral asked rhetorically, before heading into his office and slamming the big wooden door.

Tiner shrugged, and put in a call to Pearl. He got the night watch in the comm center there; of course, it was 0230 in Hawaii. Plenty of time to wait for the Reprisal's morning roll call before sending a message or two to Rabb and Mackenzie.

----
Tuesday, 0820 Hours (Hawaiian)
Courtroom One
Naval Station Pearl Harbor
----

"Please be seated." They all sat, and the judge looked at Harm attentively. "I believe a plea agreement has been reached overnight?"

"Yes, sir. My client would like to change his plea to guilty, pending the government's offer of punitive action."

"Which is?" He turned to Mac.

"Reduction to the bottom of the seniority list, loss of half pay for a month, and forty hours of community service here at the Arizona memorial, sir."

The judge considered for a moment. "Sounds a bit light to me. Up that community service to fifty hours and you've got a deal. Plea accepted. Case closed."

He whacked the gavel, and Harm tuned to his client. "Thank you, Commander. I thought they were going to drum me out of the service."

"The only permanent effects are the black mark on your record and your loss of time in rank, sir. It'll be a long time before you get a new command, and perhaps no chance at becoming an Admiral."

"Oh well, I never wanted to be an Admiral anyways. I always liked being on the action end of the command tree."

Mac rushed up behind him. "Harm... got a message from Tiner. Orders, for both of us."

"What's up?"

"The Admiral wants us to head for California immediately. There's fifty-one sailors missing from the Reprisal during a port visit. And..." Mac's face
brightened as she read... "Lieutenant Singer is also missing."

"Singer? How?"

"They sent her to investigate and she never reported in after arriving and picking up her rental car."

"That's not like Singer at all. Let's go, Mac."

Chapter Four: Questioning Witnesses

----
Tuesday, 1215 Hours (Pacific)
Construction Foreman's Office
Sunnydale High School
----

"There you are, Dawnie!" Buffy exclaimed. Not that she'd really been planning to run into Dawn here, but Dawn liked exuberant greetings. She bobbed her head, smiled, and embraced Buffy in a silent hug.

The reason? Xander and Willow were huddled over a speakerphone, their lunches forgotten beside them. Buffy, with her Slayer's metabolism, seized Xander's Twinkie while he wasn't looking. Willow saw it, and grinned slightly.

"Ah... here it is..." Giles's voice came over the staticky line, his thickening accent telling Buffy he was still in England. "The seer said that she saw a dark
force rising in Sunnydale. But its aura was not black."

"Not black? But dark?" Buffy wondered. "What is it then?"

"She said it was a very dark shade of the colour blue." The way Giles pronounced it, you could actually hear the U in color.

"Like..." Willow stammered, as she always did when she didn't think before speaking. "N...Navy Blue?"

"I suppose. Why?"

Xander recapped the weekend for Giles. "There's an aircraft carrier visiting. They're giving tours, we went and saw it. And they're missing some sailors."

"Sailors as in more than one?"

Buffy checked the newspaper. "Sailors as in dozens. About forty."

"And they've been in port since...." Giles prodded.

"Friday." She glanced at Xander's Harry Potter clock, which was set on English time. A twisted gift from Dawnie, who was - shall we say - obsessed with
everything Harry Potter. It was eight hours ahead. "Probably Saturday morning for you."

"I'll talk to the seer, see if she had any more details, but it seems as if your missing sailors may be the culprits."

Willow spoke up. "I had a theory about that. What if one of Buffy's old enemies... Drusilla for example... decided to come back and kill Buffy, or all
of us? They might think, having tried and failed to do so before, that vampires with military training might be just what they need to pull it off."

Dawn piped up. "You mean an army of sailor vampires?"

Willow nodded. "Right."

Giles coughed, and the static made it sound as if he was very ill. "It's possible. Have you sighted anyone threatening lately?"

"Not that I haven't killed." Buffy spoke up.

Xander shrugged. "Just means maybe they're laying low for now."

Giles said, "I agree. It's a bit early to jump to such a conclusion, but dozens of American sailors don't just disappear." He paused. "And you know, the
government might send someone into Sunnydale to investigate."

"Already done." Willow remarked. "Two police-type Marines came and questioned us at the house, because the first victims were last seen talking to us at the tour gate. And I gave directions to some officer who looked suspisciously like a lawyer."

"When?" Buffy asked.

"Yesterday afternoon, when I was pruning the front yard tree. She drove up in uniform and shades in a blue Viper and asked how to get to Jack in the Box. I gave her directions and she left. That was the whole conversation."

"Odd. Very odd. I advise you keep as close a watch as you can on these government types. As long as you can do it without getting in trouble with
yourselves. Now, we'd best get off the phone before Xander owes Pacific Bell his firstborn son. But call anytime." Click.

"So what's the plan? Dawn asked hopefully.

"Up our patrols near the docks. And Dawnie, you're goign to be in charge of the house, in case the Marines or someone come back while we're out patrolling. Willow, can you handle daytime?"

"Sure."

"Problem solved. I want a call to both me and Xander immediately if anyone in a military uniform tries to talk to anyone. And don't tell them anything they don't already suspect. Now, let's do lunch."

----
Tuesday, 1530 Hours
Luggage Claim
Sunnydale Airport
----

Mac stopped at the bottom of the stairs from the gates. "I'll be right back." She made a beeline for the ladies' room, leaving Harm waiting outside with their claim checks. Correction, his claim checks. She hadn't handed him hers.

Moments later she breezed out, her face glistening wetly, but otherwise looking just as she had going in, in her tropical-duty khakis, just as Harm was wearing. "Why didn't you give me your claim check?" he asked.

"It takes a certain amount of time to unload the bags from the plane, put them on the converyor, and... five seconds."

Sure eenough, luggage started appearing just as Harm counted one-thousand-five. "How do you do that?"

"I've told you a hundred times. I just have great timing."

"As regular as a Swiss watch." Harm joked. "So how long until our bags come up?"

"It's variable, dependeing on what order they put the bags on the conveyor. You know that." Just then she leaned forward, then stood up, shaking her head. "I hate those military-surplus sea bags. Always thinking they're ours."

"Not mine. Remember I had my wings stenciled on mine. Maybe you should get the globe and anchor stenciled on yours."

"Not a bad idea." She swooped forward and gracefully lifted his sea bag, half-tossing it into his stomach.

"Ow."

"Here we go." She scooped hers up. "Now for tranportation to the ship. Tiner didn't mention any, so..."

"Taxi?"

"Sounds good to me, Harm."

----
Tuesday, 1855 Hours (Eastern)
JAG HQ
Falls Church, VA
----

"JAG OPS, Lieutenant Sims speaking."

The voice on the line was all too familiar. "Harriet, it's Mac. We're on the Reprisal. We're going to have to go into town a bit to investigate, could you
call a car for us?"

"Sure, ma'am. Where?"

"Pier 13, Sunnydale, CA. Have it here at... oh, 0730 local. We'll bunk down on the ship tonight, if the Admiral wants to get ahold of us."

"Right, Colonel. 0730, Sunnydale Pier 13. Your name or Harm's?"

"Better make it Harm's. He's a control freak when it comes to driving."

"Okay, ma'am. Anything else?"

"Say hi to Bud and little A.J. for us. We'll be back in no time." Not quite accurate, Mac mentally corrected herself, but it was the thought that counted,
wasn't it?

----
Wednesday, 0755 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

"I'll get it!" Willow called out, hurtling down the stairs as Dawn finished brushing out her hair and Buffy hunted for the keys to Giles' BMW convertible,
which was in the garage. "And Buff, I'll drive." She opened the door - bright sunlight, not vampires, therefore not of the bad most likely.

Or maybe not. It was two imposing Navy types. One of them a woman. And she looked kind of familiar. In more than just physical ways. She had Power.

The tall man - Willow blinked as he turned and the sun glinted off the gold wings on his chest - leaned forward, hat in hand. "I'm Commander Harmon Rabb.

This is my partner, Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. We're investigating the missing sailors. The Marines told us they'd been here already, so we thought we'd follow up..."

Willow nodded. She quickly glanced at Colonel Mackenzie. She hadn't been aware that the government was using non-Muggles (a Dawnism, picked up from the Harry Potter books no doubt) for interrogations, but the Colonel seemed not to be trying to use any abilities. "Please, come in. Have a seat. The living room is to your left."

Dawn tumbled out of the bathroom and bounced down the stairs, her usual hyperactive self. "What's up, Will?"

Willow turned. "Nothing. Are you ready for school?"

"Yep." Then she noticed the two military officers on the couch. She waved politely and emitted a single "Hey." accompanied by a head bob.

Colonel Mackenzie smiled. "Good morning. When does your school start?"

"Eight-twenty."

"How long does it take to get there?"

"About ten minutes."

"Relax. You've got another thirteen minutes and twelve seconds." Colonel Mackenzie smiled.

Willow turned, staring straight at her. "How do you do that?"

"I get asked that several times a day. Harm?"

Harm spoke up. "Mac says she's got great timing."

Willow thought it was more than that. This 'Mac' was definitely Powerful. No muggle could calculate time to the second without a clock. Hell, even she
couldn't. But different people had different Gifts. "We'll take you early. Buffy, you'd better call in sick. And then call Xander. I'll be back." She
grabbed the keys from where she'd hidden them from Buffy - under a potted plant in the foyer - as she hurried Dawn out the door.

Buffy, for her part, dialed up the school. "Hello... yes, this is Miss Summers. I won't be coming in this morning. Something came up. I might make it in this afternoon, but if not, I should be back tomorrow." She paused. "Yes, my sister will be in class. She's not... involved in this situation. One of my housemates is driving her over as we speak." She could her Giles' BMW purring out of the garage. "Alright, thanks." She tapped the hang-up switch on the phone and dialed up the construction office. "I need to speak to Mr. Harris. Now. Tell him it's regarding the conversation we had at lunch yesterday." She paused. "Buffy Summers. He has my number and address. Bye."

She turned to Harm and Mac, sizing them up from across the room. Both were seated in the early-morning direct sun, so that was of the good. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Harm nodded. "If you have any coffee. Black, with sugar."

"Done. And you, ma'am?"

"Milk, if you have some. Or just water."

"I think we can handle that." She headed into the kitchen, and quickly came back with a tray with two glasses of milk, three cups of coffee, and a large plate of toast. She plunked all of this down on the coffee table, snatched up a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, and sat down. "Please, help yourself." she offered, as she slumped sideways in the chair, her sock-feet hanging over the arm of the chair toward the table.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Harm said, pulling a notepad from his briefcase.

"Buffy Anne Summers. And I didn't catch yours either, I'm sorry."

"Commander Harmon Rabb. This is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie."

She smiled at his wings. "You're a pilot."

"I was. I'm a lawyer now. Night vision problems."

She turned and looked at Mackenzie. "And you're a Marine."

"Marine first, lawyer second, I say." Just then Willow and Xander came in, each scooping up one of the two remaining drinks - like Mac, Willow chose milk, as Buffy had rules about her caffeine intake - and taking seats across from Mac. Leaving Buffy to stare at Harm.

"So what did y'all want to know?" Xander asked, being all Friendly-Guy.

"First, names?" Harm asked, tapping his notepad.

"Oh, right. Alexander Harris. But everyone just calls me Xander. And that's Willow Rosenberg."

"How do you three know each other?"

Buffy fielded that. "They had gone to the Sunnydale schools their whole lives. I moved up here in tenth grade, and we were fast friends. We've stuck together after school, and when my mom died, Willow moved into her old room, to help me raise Dawnie."

"Your sister?" Mac hazarded.

"Yes."

"Does anyone else live here?"

"No. We've a couple acquaintances who pop in from time to time."

Willow spoke up. "But they're all out of town right now. Out of the picture really. At least, for now."

"So... what did you see that was unusual?" Mac asked, glancing around to indicate the question was for all of them. But Willow spoke up.

"You mean on the ship, in town, or the girl in the sports car?"

"Let's start with the sports car."

"Well I was in the front yard pruning the tree. It was around six Monday night. This Navy chick drove up in a blue Viper and shades and asked me for directions to Jack in the Box. I gave them to her. Then she left."

Harm looked slightly puzzled. "Can you describe her?"

"She looked normal. Sand-blonde hair. Couldn't see her eyes. A little bit of a sunburn on her face. Oh, and she was wearing a blue uniform."

"Dress blues. Did you notice anything on the sleeves?"

"Two wide gold stripes on her wrists."

Mac tapped her fingers on Harm's notepad. "Write that down. I bet it was Singer."

"What were the directions?" Harm asked.

"Left at the third cemetery, then right at the blue funeral home, and it's down six blocks on the left, next to the Casket Warehouse." Willow paused. "Oh, and I told her she should put the top up. It was almost dark." That earned her a look from Buffy and a slight kick from Xander. Mac caught it, she was sure.

"Why would she need to put the top up in the dark?"

Xander waved his hand. "Old Sunnydale custom. We used to run around putting the hoods up on each other's jackets for fun."

Willow winced. She could tell, even with someone that she didn't know, from halfway across a room, Mac had seen right through that one. But she didn't press it. "So you told her she should put the top up and then she drove off."

"Yep, that was it."

Harm grumbled, "If it's who we think it is, she'd leave it down just to spite you. Have you seen that car again?"

"No." Buffy answered. "I go for a lot of walks. High metabolism. And I haven't seen it on the curb anywhere in the neighborhood. A blue Viper stands out, even in Sunnydale, when you know to look." She snatched up a second piece of toast. And a third.

"Now, about the sailors you saw leaving the ship on Saturday..."

"They were going to a club. Everyone knows there's only one decent club in Sunnydale. The Bronze. It's an old converted warehouse downtown. We used to go there a lot when we were in high school. So I gave them directions to it."

"That's all?" Harm asked, incredulously.

"Yep."

Xander spoke up. "You do know about the town, right?"

Mac answered, "No."

"The old stories say the Spanish called it the Boca del Infierno. Mouth of Hell. All sorts of strange things happen in this place. I'm sure you noticed the
cemeteries?"

"There was a lot of them."

"Sunnydale has a high death rate. But the economy is so good, people still move here. They say it has to do with muggers." Xander said, evasively. And Willow knew Mac knew he wasn't telling the whole story. Strange, how she'd been able to pick up on Mac that fast. It was almost as if they'd trained together. Perhaps in a previous lifetime? Or maybe it was because quite a lot of Buffy's behavior was a lot like Mac's. As far as she could tell so far. Perhaps she could read Mac because she'd gotten so good with reading Buffy?

"So you're saying that our missing sailors are dead..."

"Most likely. Or worse..." Xander said, before Buffy stared him down.

"Worse how?" Mac asked.

"You'd never believe it." Willow said, putting some force behind her words. Perhaps the Jedi mind-trick thing actually worked in real life?

Apparenly, it did. Harm finished his coffee and stood up. "I think it's about time for us to go. We may be back, ladies, gentleman."

Mac hung on for a couple seconds, then shrugged and followed Harm out. Those couple seconds she spent staring at Willow.

----
Wednesday, 0825 Hours
Harm's Rental Car
Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

"What's next?"

"Well, we could go look at this Bronze place." Harm offered.

"I doubt we'll find anything four days later at a dance club. Those places are busier than that."

"Not all of the disappearances happened the first day. They're ongoing."

"True. Alright, then."

Chapter Five: Revelations and Allies

----
Wednesday, 1145 Hours
Construction Office
Sunnydale High School
----

Dawn bounced into the move-on trailer, glancing eagerly at the Harry clock that told English time. "Can we call Giles?"

"Sure." Xander flipped a few cards in his rolodex, coming to the G section. "Here you go."

Dawn beamed as she punched in the dozen-plus numbers and heard the distinctive trill of a British, rather than American, telephone. Giles picked up, but answered with a curt "Evening."

"Hey Giles!" Dawn burst out. Xander could just imagine Giles having to hold the phone several inches from his ear. "What's up in England?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with. There was a bit of a magical surge up in Scotland around noon, but otherwise, everything is the same as usual here. What about Sunnydale?"

"Oh there was this Navy guy at the door this morning and Buffy stayed home. Willow drove me to school. She's so cool. Thanks for loaning her your car."

"It was cheaper and safer than shipping it to England. Besides the wheel is on the wrong side and I can use it instead of a rental when I come visit."

"You're so smart! I wish I had a Watcher and he was just like you."

Giles coughed. "Dawnie, I consider all of you my responsibility. Now, where are Xander and Buffy and Willow?"

"Xander's right here." Just then Buffy and Willow piled in through the flimsy door. "And here's Buffy and Willow. They have the coolest timing."

Willow spoke up. "No, we don't. Is that Giles?" Dawn nodded, and Willow reached for the phone. "Giles... one of the investigators the government sent out... she's a Marine lawyer... and she's sensitive."

"How sensitive?"

"She knew what time it was to the second. Without a clock. Told Dawnie exactly how long she had before she had to leave for school. Dawnie timed it with her watch. She was right on."

"Bloody hell. Willow, someone like that... she may not be as powerful as you are, but she might be powerful in other ways. She could have visions or
prophecy-dreams or uncanny luck. Keep your eyes peeled. She'll make a good ally in a fight - but she's also a Marine, so you'll have to convince her she should be your ally."

Willow nodded, forgetting Giles couldn't see her. "Yes, Giles. Want to talk to Buffy?"

"Sure."

----
Wednesday, 1225 Hours
The Bronze
Sunnydale
----

Harm looked around at the converted warehouse-turned-danceclub. "I don't see any sign of a fight. Except..." He pointed at a table near the edge of the dance floor, which had an odd lump along its lower edge.

Mac, who was a little closer, ducked to look at the bottom of the smallish table. Harm heard a sound like electrical tape being peeled loose, and then Mac tossed him an object.

What he held was a wooden spike, about the size of a railroad spike he'd once found on a childhood hiking trip. "Interesting." He hefted the smallish spike, and asked, "I wonder who put this there."

Mac shook her head. "I'd be willing to bet it's one of those three we talked to this morning." She pointed at a trail of tiny specks of blood that had soaked
into the flooring. "They said this town has a high death rate. Perhaps it's for protection?"

"But why a wooden spike, and not a knife or a gun?" Then he answered his own question. "Because those are things you carry with you. This is for
emergencies."

"Or..."

Harm turned, looking at Mac in the dim light. "What?"

"I remember hearing a few things about this town, now that I'm thinking about it. A few newspaper clippings on Bud's desk. Mysterious deaths. Sightings of non-human entities. That sort of thing. But nobody's ever had any published proof. There's even a rumor that the Army had a squad of Rangers or Delta Force out here a couple years ago. Supposedly hunting... well, demons, if you believe that sort of thing."

Harm shook his head. "Probably just college kids making up stories like usual. I remember when I was at the Academy, there was a story going around that there was a ghost in the Naval History classroom that could suck the ink right out of your pen. While you were using it."

Mac nodded. "Could be. But then, when you hear enough oddball things happening in one place, there's usually a cause behind it. Even if it isn't what the stories say."

"True."

----
Wednesday, 1400 Hours
Bridge, U.S.S. Reprisal
Pier 13
Sunnydale Harbor
----

"Nice to meet you, Commander, Colonel. So, any leads on my missing sailors?" asked Captain Fitzgerald, the Reprisal's commanding officer.

Harm spoke up. "We checked on the leads your Marines gave us - which wasn't much. So far we haven't found any distinct evidence, other than a small trail of bloodstains in the building they were reportedly headed for. They're too soaked in, however, to collect any for testing."

Mac spoke up. "I'd advise that you cancel liberty for the remainder of your port visit here, to prevent further disappearances, while we get this all sorted out."

"Agreed. We lost another fifteen sailors this morning. I'm going to have the Pentagon asking how we could lose sixty-six sailors in a week in an American port. Even deserters don't come in large groups like that."

Harm nodded. "Obviously, some or all of them are either dead or being held against their will. Either way, we intend to get to the bottom of it."

Mac's cellphone trilled. She looked at the caller ID, mouthed Harriet's name to Harm, and turned to take the call. "What is it, Harriet?"

"Afternoon, Colonel. Bud just emailed me from the house. Apparently, the Sunnydale PD has their dispatch computer linked to the Internet, and he's been watching it. Apparently they are towing a car matching the description of Lt. Singer's rental from a handicapped parking space. Would you like the address?"

"Certainly."

"It's at the Seaview Cemetery, on Sunset Bluffs Drive between Princeton Street and South Bend Lane."

"Thanks, Harriet." She folded up the phone, and apologized to the Captain. "We just got another lead. One of our staffers is monitoring the local police
dispatch, and they've located a rental car rented out to the original JAG officer who was dispatched here but never reported in."

"Be careful. And keep me posted." The Captain turned, raising his binoculars to watch a crowd of civilians walking the flight deck.

----
Wednesday, 1845 Hours
Princeton Street
Sunnydale
----

"Sorry about that, Harm." Mac had accidentally led them right into the heart of U.C. Sunnydale's fraternity row, where they'd been delayed for several hours by a traffic accident, when a fraternity student's car had burst out of a garage. It had sideswiped their rental car, and caved in the entire passenger side, deeply bruising the outside of Harm's right thigh when it had been impacted by the passenger-side door's armrest. Strangely enough, just as the car had struck them, its driver had burst into flames, and vanished. By the time the poice arrived, there was nothing in the car but a light dusting of ash.

Now they'd gotten a replacement car - the rental company had sent them a sports car this time, a Porsche 911 even. The British racing green sports car rumbled to life, with Mac at the wheel. "Now let's go check out that cemetery."

"I'm sure they've towed the car by now."

"Yes, but there could be evidence at the scene."

She smoothly motored up onto the bluffs overlooking the Mission-architecture town of Sunnydale, and not surprisingly, the first turnoff was Sunset Bluffs Drive. About a quarter mile along the winding road, she spotted the gates of the Seaview Cemetery, chained shut. But she pulled up in front of them and parked the car in the driveway nonetheless.

"Looks closed for the night."

Harm shook his head. "It's just a driveway gate, Mac. We've gotten past much more difficult obstacles." He opened his briefcase, taking out a legal pad, a
pair of pens, a pistol and a police-style flashlight. "Let's go check it out."

"Expecting to club something to death, Harm?" Mac asked, pointing at the flashlight as she palmed the car keys into her pocket.

"It's almost sunset. Didn't want to have to come back to the car for it."

"Ah." By now they were both out of the car, and it was safely locked up. She went over to the low-slung wrought-iron gate - topped with three-inch spikes that barely came up to her shoulders - and climbed it easily. Harm winced as he did the same, favoring his bruised leg. "Sure we don't need to take you to the hospital? Or the sickbay on the Reprisal?"

"I'll be fine for a couple hours. Let's get this done, so this trip's not a total waste." He pointed across the oil-stained parking lot. "There's the
handicapped spaces."

They slowly made their way across the old pavement, Mac nearly tripping on a particularly robust weed coming up through a crack. But she didn't want to rush, as Harm seemed to be having trouble walking on his injured leg. Just then, the shadows became the night, as the sun finally went down behind the low trees along the far edge of the graveyard.

Mac looked around as they reached the handicapped parking. Four spaces lay side-by-side, all facing into an enormous marble mausoleum with the name 'Mackenzie' emblazoned over the door. Mac shivered.

"Talk about someone walking on your grave." Harm joked, looking at the massive structure, as the parking lot got darker and darker. "I think I see fresh oil here." He pointed at the slot closest to the mausoleum's door.

Mac pulled a digital camera out, and had Harm shine the flashlight on the oil, finding a pair of tire tracks in them. "No wonder they spotted the car. It was parked diagonally across the space." She clicked a couple pictures of the tracks. "We'll have Bud look at those, see if they match the tires on Singer's
rental."

Just then, a growling sound came from the left of the mausoleum. Turning toward it instinctively, both officers saw... something coming at them. Its build was obviously human, but it couldn't be. It had a feral gleam to its eyes, badly misshapen facial features, and protruding teeth.

And it was wearing the uniform of an Electrician's Mate Third Class.

Mac took a defensive stance in front of Harm, and punched the thing in the face. It staggered a little, but kept coming. She hit it again, and it staggered again before backhanding her across the face.

When she felt how cold its hands were - cold as death - she shivered again. Behind her, she could hear Harm switch the safety off the pistol he'd brought. He shot the thing twice, right between the eyes.

It blinked, looked at her, and growled. Nothing human could survive the two bullets this thing had just taken to the brain. But somehow, this thing was not only surviving, but looked like it was still ready for a fight.

Then Mac sensed something. Another person, coming up behind her attacker. She backed up a step, seizing the flashlight from Harm's belt, and hit the creature across the face with it, breaking its nose. Thank god for MagLite.

But it was still fighting. It kicked at Harm's ankle, knocking him to the ground. And then, with the clap of what could only be platform shoes on asphalt,
their second attacker came up behind the thing, and then it quite unexpectedly stopped, a surprised look on its face, and burst into a cloud of dust.

As the dust fell to the ground, Mac recognized their savior. Buffy Summers, clad in a powder blue duster and platform shoes that made her as tall as her
companion, the red-haired Willow Rosenberg, who was busily stuffing a pistol-sized crossbow back into a duffel bag hanging from her shoulder.

Buffy looked at Mac, while sliding a wooden spike up her sleeve. She hadn't a clue what to say.

It was Harm that broke the silence. "What was that... thing?"

"Vampire. That's why it didn't go down when you shot it. There's not many ways to kill them, and a gun isn't one of them."

Mac peered at her. "But... vampires? If there really were vampires, wouldn't people know about it?"

Willow spoke up, leaning against the mausoleum wall. "People have a knack for not seeing what they don't believe. Seeing isn't always believing."

"You wouldn't believe how many corpses turn up in Sunnydale with fatal blood loss caused by being stabbed in the neck with a barbecue fork." Buffy smirked. "And how many people are disregarded in police reports because they're clearly hallucinating."

Mac shivered again. "So that thing was..."

"One of your missing sailors, I expect." Buffy confirmed. "Vampires have the ability to turn their victims into new vampires. It's how they..."

"Procreate." Willow supplied. "You see, they can't reproduce sexually. They're also somewhat immortal. They don't die unless they are killed."

Buffy nodded. "It's because they're already dead. You noticed how he felt cold when he slapped you?"

Mac nodded. "He felt cold as death."

"Because he was."

"But... you..."

"Know all about them. Come on, let's get out of here. It's not safe." The four of them all headed for the gate, Harm limping a bit. Buffy looked concerned.
"Commander, you're limping."

"Car accident. We got sideswiped earlier today." Harm replied.

"Ah. So where were we?"

Mac said, "You know all about vampires. Or so you claim. But how?"

"Because I'm the Slayer."

Mac looked confused, but it was Willow who spoke up. "A Slayer is called from among all humanity, and given the knowledge and power to fight vampires. Sort of a champion, a superhero. And that's Buffy."

"But when Buffy dies..."

"A new Slayer will be called, instantly. It's happened before." Buffy said. "It's always a teenage girl."

"But you're not a teenager." Harm commented, as Willow wrapped her hands around the cemetery gate's lock.

"That's because I've been the Slayer for a long time. Several years, in fact. One of the longest-lived Slayers yet."

Just then, Willow shoved the gate open, the lock hanging, unlocked, from one end of the chain. Mac looked at her. "Impressive lockpicking capabilities."

Willow blushed. "Actually, I have a key. We found the groundskeeper dead a few months ago."

Mac shrugged, and pulled out the keys to the Porsche. "I think we need to sit down somewhere and talk about this."

Buffy nodded. "Meet you at my house. Sixteen-Thirty Revello. Vampires can't come inside a private home unless they're invited in. It's one of those magical-protection type deals. Until then, stay in the car with the doors locked and the windows up. And if anything attacks you, well... the cops in this town don't write many speeding tickets."

"Gotcha." Harm moved toward the driver side, and Mac handed him the keys. "Sounds like we might need a former fighter pilot at the wheel."

"Wouldn't hurt." Buffy answered.

----
Wednesday, 1930 Hours
The Mackenzie Mausoleum, Seaview Cemetery
Sunnydale
----

"My car!" Singer shrieked. "They took my car!"

Harmony waved her hand impatiently. "Don't worry. You still have the keys, right?"

"Yes." Lauren hissed.

"Good. I know just where the police impound yard is. In the meantime..."

"We've got sixty sailors already, Miss Kendall. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"It is. What we need now are some tools. Sledgehammers, crowbars, axes, that sort of thing."

"Why?"

"Because we can't go into a house unless we're invited by someone who lives there. Everyone in Buffy's house knows better, so in order to get to her, we're going to have to tear down her house."

"Ah." Singer nodded. "But... why not try to ambush her in public somewhere?"

"We've tried that before. She gets away. After killing a lot of us." Harmony turned. "Do you know those two that were outside?"

"Yeah. Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie. Two of my coworkers at JAG. I'd love to kill them both."

"Then you shall have that chance. But first, we've got a Home Depot to attack."

----
Wednesday, 2020 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Xander came in the door, a trio of pizzas in his hands, and Dawn following with another of those wooden spikes in hers. "Hey!" She chirped, dropping the spike and hugging Willow.

Then she saw Commander Rabb and Major Mackenzie in the living room. With Buffy. "Hi Dawn. Dawn, meet Harm and Mac." Buffy introduced them.

"Cool names. We've got pizza."

Xander nodded. "Didn't know what everyone might want so I got the classics. Two cheese, one pepperoni."

Willow returned from the kitchen with a stack of paper plates, and the pizza turned out to be just the right proportions. Mac and Xander took pepperoni, while Harm, Buffy, Dawn and Willow all chose cheese.

Harm, still his curious self, had his notepad out. "So how do you kill a vampire?"

Xander listed off a few methods. "Wooden stake through the heart. Beheading. Fire. Holy water. And... I'm forgetting one."

Dawn giggled. "Sunlight. Not artificial light, though. Also they can't stand crosses, though a cross won't really kill them, it just sets 'em on fire."

Mac nodded, looking at Buffy. "So what sort of weapons do you carry?"

"A few stakes, a crossbow sometimes, sometimes a sword." She looked at Harm, longingly. It had been a long time since she'd had such a hottie of a man in her house. Not counting Xander and Spike, of course.

Willow interrupted. "Why do you think they're sporting Navy uniforms now?"

"Obviously," Mac supplied, "those vampires are our missing sailors. So that's the first part of our investigation solved."

Harm looked curious. "What's the second part?"

"The why." Xander offered. "But we think we might have that partially worked out, too. There's certain vampires, demons, what have you - we just call them baddies - who see Buffy as a personal enemy. Some of them, we know by name. And we think this might be a scheme by one of them to recruit their own private army, one of vampires with military training."

Mac nodded. "Sounds reasonable. Listen to me. I'm talking about vampires and demons here."

Buffy smiled. "With a Vampire Slayer, a mystical key, a witch, a fighter pilot and a construction foreman. Sounds reasonable to me."

Dawn joked, "Next thing you know we'll have Professor Dumbledore walking in here."

"Who?" Xander asked.

"Geesh, Xander, crack a book once in a while." Dawn jibed.

"So," Harm summarized, "the missing sailors are now vampires, working for one of your local archvillains. But we don't know exactly who, or what they are up to."

Just then, Mac's cellphone trilled. "Excuse me." She picked it up. "Colonel Mackenzie." She paused. "Lieutenant? Are you all right?"

Then she held out the phone to Buffy. "It's for you."

Buffy took the phone, asking, "Who is it?" She listened, then tossed the phone back to Mac, practically laughing her face red.

Willow told her, "Calm down, Buffy. What is it?"

"It's Harmony."

"Harmony? I mean, come on, Harmony?!?" Buffy was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing.

Harm looked curious. "Who's Harmony?"

Xander took it upon himself to fill in Harm and Mac. "Harmony Kendall. She was one of the dumb blondes of the in-crowd in high school. Got turned into a vampire shortly after graduation. We've crossed paths with her a few times since then. Each time she's had a crackpot scheme to kill Buffy. Except... well, she may be a vampire, but she's still a dumb blonde."

Harm smiled. "I see."

Mac frowned. "Yes, but this time, she's not the brains of the operation."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got a partner. Lieutenant Singer."

Harm blanched. "Oh, dear."

Buffy was still chuckling over Harmony's renewed threats against her life, so Willow asked. "Who's Lieutenant Singer?"

Mac frowned. "She's the office bitch. Always scheming and plotting behind everyone's back. And her schemes have a tendency to actually work. One time she nearly had Harriet and Bud... sorry, our two married friends... not speaking to each other and we had to fly halfway around the world to put things back together."

Willow looked like she understood. And that this was a Very Bad Thing. "So we're facing an army of sailor vampires with Harmony's vendetta and competent leadership?"

Harm nodded. "That's about it." He looked at Buffy, who'd suddenly stopped laughing.

Dawn jumped out of her chair, and started pacing. "Well, we've got to figure out what she would plan to do. And knowing Harmony..."

Willow finished. "It'll be based on how her plan failed last time. Last time she tried to call Buffy out, but Buffy wasn't home. And she tried to kidnap Dawn and ambush Buffy by forcing her to rescue Dawn. But Buffy got Dawn away and back to the house..."

Mac winced. "You said vampires can't enter unless invited?"

"Yes. It's the main thing we have going for us, other than Buffy, sometimes."

"But what if they could get around that somehow?"

"Nowhere would be safe." Willow nodded.

Dawn smiled. "Well, in the meantime, let's enjoy ourselves, 'kay?"

Chapter Six: Gathering Forces

----
Wednesday, 2130 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Three pizza boxes lay demolished on the floor, and Xander had taken Dawn out to pick up some ice cream. Willow and Mac had retired to the kitchen, leaving Harm and Buffy in the living room. "I wanted to discuss something with you." Willow started, oddly timid all of a sudden.

"Anything." Mac answered. "Well, I reserve the right to stop you."

"You're sensitive. I can tell just by being around you."

"Sensitive to what?"

"Magic. The Force. Psychic abilities. Talent. Whatever you prefer to call it. You've got it, and so do I."

Mac blinked. "You mean my visions?"

"It's not just visions, I think. But yes. You can train those abilities, and they could come in quite helpful." Willow paused. "Especially around here. What
else have you done?"

"Well, I can usually tell what someone is going to say, just before they say it.
Assuming it's someone I know. And... well, I can tell time."

"I can tell time too, they taught it in kindergarten."

"No, not like that. Without a clock." Mac grinned. "Name a place."

"Cornwall." Mac's eyes didn't seem to comprehend. "It's a province in western England."

"Oh. It's five-thirty-two tomorrow morning." Willow herself glanced at the little glowy clock on the microwave, and added eight hours. She quickly checked behind her for a clock Mac could have seen, but there were none.

"Do you mind?" Willow reached for Mac's arms.

Mac pulled her sleeves up herself. "No watch."

Xander and Dawn entered through the kitchen door, plastic bags containing sodas and cartons of ice cream in hand. Will looked at Xander questioningly. "I thought it might be better to... ah... not use the front door."

Willow watched Xander's skin turn a few extra shades of pink. "What's going on in there?" She quickly got up, and opened the door to the living room - and quickly shut it again. "Good thinking."

After the groceries were put away, and bowls retrieved for the ice cream, Willow tried the door again. She listened intently, shrugged, and then called out. "Would you two like some ice cream?"

Harm, slightly out of breath, answered back. "Sure. Two, please."

Xander, knowing Buffy's appetite, had already spooned out an extra-large serving for her. Dawn scooped out one for Harm, and Willow grabbed both bowls. "I think I'd better take those." She made her way into the other room, where Buffy and Harm were straightening their outfits - not that Willow, with her senses, couldn't tell what they'd just been doing, even if she hadn't overheard it a little from the kitchen door. "Here you go, guys. And... you're not fooling anyone. Except perhaps Dawnie."

Buffy blanched. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. And Xander was quite considerate. They even used the kitchen door when they came back." Willow turned, and went back into the kitchen. "So, Xand, how was traffic?"

----
Wednesday, 2200 Hours
Home Depot
1774 Massachusetts Avenue
Sunnydale
----

The manager was just palming the keys from his pocket - to lock the front door at closing time - when he felt a knife at his throat. "Don't call out."

"There's no money... it's all in the safe already."

Harmony peered out from behind a trash can on the opposite side of the doorway, her demonic eyes glowing. "That's alright. We didn't come for money. Lauren, go ahead and kill him."

For her part, Lauren Singer took the keys, and quickly twisted the door lock back to the unlocked position, before sinking her teeth into the soft flesh at
the base of the Home Depot manager's neck. A cashier screamed.

Harmony nodded at her army - or was it a navy? - of vampire sailors, and pointed at the group of employees huddled near the cash registers. "Get 'em, boys. Then get us some tools. Axes, crowbars, chainsaws..."

Lauren held up a hand, and Harmony paused as the Navy lieutenant finished draining the manager, dropping him unceremoniously on the concrete slab. "Ladders, too. It's a two-story house."

"Good point. Ladders, too, boys!" Harmony bubbled. The sailor-vampires, for their part, started draining the cashiers, while a few (the more recently-fed types) started looking for tools.

----
Wednesday, 2300 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Xander flipped on the TV, wondering what might be on the eleven o'clock news. Buffy and Harm had... what was the word... adjourned to upstairs, and Dawn had headed off to bed as well. Willow and Mac were still talking in the kitchen as the TV screen came to life, the "breaking news" graphic glowing across the bottom of the screen.

Some mindless reporter was droning on in front of the Home Depot. "... police are not revealing anything, but our source claims that the entire store staff has been found dead inside, except for the manager, who was found just outside the front doors. What the police have said is that the entire stock of chainsaws, crowbars, and two-story ladders appear to be missing. They claim," and it was obvious from the reporter's tone that the police were not all that trustworthy, "that this was a simple robbery. However, according to reports, no money was missing from the cash registers or safe."

Xander bolted out of his seat as he caught a glimpse of a body at the threshold, covered in clear plastic. The body was unusually pale. Like all the blood had been drained from it. Yet there wasn't a puddle of blood on the ground. "Will!"

Willow ran in from the other room. "What?"

Mac was right behind her, and staring at Xander, she said, "You look like someone died."

"They did. Vampires attacked the Home Depot at closing time. And they didn't take the cash."

Willow started up the stairs. "It's Harmony. I'd better get Buffy."

"How do you know it's Harmony?" Xander asked.

"'Cause any other vamp would've taken the cash too."

"Good point." He checked his watch. "Anyways, I'm heading home. See you guys tomorrow." He palmed a stake in one hand, his keys in the other, and
headed out the door.

----
Wednesday, 2330 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

"So... this is the couch... if you don't mind crashing on the couch." Willow smiled, offering Mac a quilt with a green-and-red checkerboard pattern.
"Not at all."

"Safer than a hotel. At least here, you don't have to worry about who the former occupants might have invited in."

"Harm!" Mac called out, nodding at Willow.

Harm poked his head around the corner; he'd just come down the stairs. "Yeah?"

"Gimme the car keys, so I can get our things. Willow said it's not a problem if we... sleep over." It was a problem with her, but she knew Harm too well. He wouldn't understand what was bothering her, or why. Even if she said it. She had to admit, though, that at least Buffy wasn't a military officer, and therefore he wasn't potentially causing any chain-of-command problems. And there was little chance that she'd end up in Falls Church with them, as had happened with Bud and Harriet. And eventually, Harm would realize that she loved him. Probably about a month after she worked up the courage to admit it.

Harm grinned. "Heads up." He tossed the keys from across the room, and Willow noticed their trajectory alter slightly in midair. The keys dropped neatly into Mac's hand.

Willow smirked. "Told ya, Mac."

Mac looked at her, questioningly. "Told me what, Will?"

"I'll tell you after we get your stuff. Come on." Will shoved the door open, and checked the front yard, stake in hand. "All clear."

Mac hurried out to the car, all her Marine training telling her that the yard and driveway were perfectly safe. Willow was watching from the open doorway, anyhow. Mac lifted out Harm's sea-bag, setting it on the pavement, then hefted her own. She slammed the trunk, pocketed the keys, and grabbed Harm's bag again. She carried both of them up to the porch, and just inside the doorway, Harm took his own bag from her. "Thanks, Mac."

"No prob, Harm. Have a... nice night." She smiled, but it was directed more at Will than Harm. "So what were you going to tell me?"

"I noticed..." Will paused, until she was sure Harm was out of earshot upstairs. Mac had said she didn't want to mention this to him, at least, not yet. "The keys... the trajectory changed in midair. If it hadn't, those keys would've fallen at your feet. And I didn't do it. You did."

"I did?"

Will frowned. "It was subconscious, was it?" She looked impressed and disappointed at the same time. "That means you've got so much power, and you're so used to using it, that you don't realize that you are using it. Which makes it very difficult to learn to use it consciously."

Mac slumped onto the couch, rummaging though her bag for some suitable pajamas. "Well, I'd like to learn. How much can you teach me while we're here?"

"Depends on how much time you have." Will smiled. "And after, there's email. It's not perfect, but I can give you a few pointers. I know how tough it can be learning witchcraft solo, but..."

"You mean, like Wicca?"

"Wicca's a religion. Historically closely related to witchcraft, but it's not the same thing. There's Wiccans with no power, and people with tons of power who follow other religions, or none at all. Or make up their own - that one's more common than you might think." She cocked her head. "Why do you ask?"

"I was undercover with a group of Wiccan Seabees a few years ago in Mississippi."

"Heard about that one on the net. That was you?" Willow didn't pause, but noticed Mac nod. "Don't worry about them. They sounded like the no-power types anyway, and not exactly following the rules they claimed to follow, either. Lucky for you - someone with real power like you and me, they would've known you were deceiving them. Might have even figured out the truth, but I doubt it, with your psychic shields."

"Psychic shields?"

"You know Star Trek?" Mac nodded. "Well, think of your mind as a starship. Someone trying to get to you can do it the nice way, or they can try to come in by force. And to prevent that, you have shields. And people like you, who use their power subconsciously, often have either very strong or very weak shields. And yours, well, they're stronger than mine are. And that's saying a lot, because I've been using my power consciously for about six years." Will held her hand up. "That can sometimes be a bad thing, because to use your powers consciously, or in ways you're not used to, you've got to get around them."

Will looked at the clock, forgetting that she could have just asked Mac. "Well, it's getting late; we'd better try to get some sleep. I can teach better when
I'm well-rested."

"Agreed." Mac grinned.

"Have a good night. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to wake us. We're right upstairs."

----
Thursday, 0030 Hours
Seaview Cemetery
Sunnydale
----

"So, what precisely is the plan?" Lauren Singer asked, hefting a chainsaw liberated from the Home Depot. Off to one side, a former Master Chief was
gassing up a half dozen more chainsaws.

Harmony smirked. "I told you, we can't go in the house without being invited in. But if we make the house unsafe, they'll have to come out before it collapses on them. And then we'll have them."

"And if they don't come out?"

"Once we've torn the house down to ground level, I think the mystical protection it provides will go away. Either way, we'll have them."

"Assuming we can pull all that off by first light. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow night, so we have all night..."

Harmony shook her head. "We don't know that they'll be home. And with those... colleagues of yours... and Buffy's friends... they could find out what we're up to before that. It's not safe to wait. Spikey used to say..."

"Spikey?"

"Another vamp I know. Thinks he's the big bad. Anyways, he used to say that the downfall of every vampire and demon who's set up against Buffy in this town, was waiting too long to pull off whatever they wanted to do, and letting Buffy get wind of it in time to interfere. We're not doing that."

"So we go tonight." Lauren nodded. "Any delay could be fatal."

"Right." Harmony wrapped an arm over Lauren's shoulder. "I think we'll make a great team."

Until this is over, Lauren thought. Once their orders run out, those sailors are going to look to me for leadership, not some dumb blonde former cheerleader. But she held her tongue. "Why do you have such a thing for killing Buffy?"

"She's the main threat. Once she's out of the way, the rest of the town will fall like dominoes." She smirked. "Especially Xander Harris." Harmony had been wanting to drain him since she'd become a vampire. He was no better than she was, and had only survived this long because instead her teaming up with Cordelia (who'd ultimately abandoned her and called her a sheep), he'd been a sidekick to Buffy and Willow.

----
Thursday, 0210 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Mac woke up, a shadow passing over the front window of the house. No, not a shadow, the headlights of a truck. She glanced out the window, seeing several men unloading tools and ladders from the large pickup truck. A navy blue Dodge Viper rumbled into the driveway behind her own rental, and its lights clicked off.

Mac rose, pulling the quilt around her, and ran up the stairs. "Which one is Willow's?" she asked herself, looking at the hallway full of closed,
nondescript, white doors. She decided to simply start pounding on all of them and see who answered. Through the window at the end of the hall, she saw a ladder being raised against the outer wall of the house.

Dawn was the first to answer, coming out with her impeccably straight hair and a blue nightgown with small rubber duckies printed all over it. "What's wrong?" Dawn asked, sleepily.

"Ladders." Mac pointed at the hallway window, just in time for Dawn to see a vampire climbing it with a fire axe. "Buffy!" she shrieked.

Willow's door flew open, the young witch clad in a set of blood-red sweats that didn't quite match her hair color. "What's wrong?"

Mac summarized what she and Dawn had seen. "Vampires, with ladders and fire axes. Here."

"But... but... they can't come in without being invited."

"So what the hell are they doing?" Buffy blurted out, just as she herself opened the door, wearing a white tee-shirt and plaid pajama pants, cradling a crossbow in one arm and her favorite stake tucked into her waistband.

Mac frowned. "That's what I'd like to know."

Harm appeared behind Buffy, in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. "Whatever it is, it doesn't sound good."

Just then, they heard a loud crashing sound at the foot of the stairs...

Buffy pointed at a large trunk at the foot of her bed, which as always, was sitting unlocked. "Weapons all around." Then she headed downstairs.

Chapter Seven: Deconstruction

----
Thursday, 0215 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale
----

Buffy ran down the stairs, looking on in horror as the front door lay on the floor. Harmony stood on the porch, and the female sailor-type with the chainsaw next to her had just finished cutting through the door frame. "You must be Buffy Summers," the vamp snarled as the chainsaw wound down.

Mac hissed from just behind Buffy's shoulder. "Singer."

"Colonel Mackenzie. How nice to see you again, ma'am. Pity it'll be the last time." Lauren Singer - or at least, the thing that once was Lauren Singer -
paused for effect. "Since you'll be dead by sunrise. Where's Commander Rabb?"

Harm hustled down the stairs, a wicked-looking machete in hand, and peered at the vampire on the porch. "Singer? Bud always claimed you were evil, but..."

Buffy laughed. "Nice empty threat there. I hope your friend there," she pointed at Harmony, "has informed you that vampires can't enter a house without being invited."

"Don't need to." Harmony gloated, as Singer cranked the chainsaw again. "We can tear your house down well enough from the outside."

Buffy's eyes went wide. So did Willow's - she'd pushed her way down the stairs. "The Home Depot attack. We saw it on the news. Xander said it was you..."

"Harris." Harmony spat. "Where is that boy?"

"He went home a couple hours ago. Sorry. You'll just have to get killed by someone else." Buffy smirked. "Speaking of which..." She leveled the crossbow at the two vampires on the porch, but just then, she was startled by a crashing sound in the kitchen, as the back door fell in. By the time she recovered,
Harmony and Singer had taken cover by moving away from the doorway, and out of sight from Buffy's position at the foot of the stairs.

A rhythmic thumping sound came from the wall behind the fireplace. "What the..." Harm started, just as the blade of a fire axe broke through the drywall.

"They're trying to hack the walls down!" Dawn shrieked.

"Not quite." Buffy corrected. "They're tearing down the house. This is SO not called for." She turned to Willow. "Dawn and Harm upstairs, see what you can do about staking the vamps through the windows. Mac, Will, you've got the downstairs."

"What about you?"

"I'm taking the roof." She set down the crossbow, and hefted a wooden umbrella from the basket by the door. It wasn't a usual feature in a Southern California house, but it did the job - keeping stakes handy near the front door. She quickly slid on a pair of Willow's Vans - good thing they were the same shoe size - and ran out the door to the nearest ladder. Unfortunately, her Slayer consciousness noted, they were fiberglass-and-aluminum ladders, hance no help with the possible slayage.

Her Slayer speed and strength were, however. She raced up the two-story ladder one-handed, and practically vaulted onto the edge of the roof. Thanking whatever powers worked for good in the universe that her house had asphalt shingles, rather than a cedar-shake or Spanish-tile roof, both of which were tough to get traction on, she rushed a group of vampires who were trying to start a pair of chainsaws.

"Nuh-uh, not going to let you do that!" She cried out, staking the vamp holding the first chainsaw from behind, just as he was starting it. She carefully caught the saw by the handle, and hurled it at another vamp's head, the spinning blade of death catching him in the neck and cleanly decapitating him. A third vamp simply lunged at her, hungrily, and she easily dusted him with a parry with her umbrella. Thank the gods she'd had Giles teach her fencing.

Three vamps down, but unfortunately, twice that many had come up the ladders in the meantime. It seemed Harmony and this Lauren person had a good supply. She thought she recalled Harm or Mac saying something about fifty missing sailors, and cringed. She didn't want to have to stake fifty vamps tonight.

One - oddly enough, the only one in sight not wearing a Navy uniform - rushed her with a... crowbar? At the last minute, just as the vamp was about to clock her with the crowbar, baseball-bat style, she slammed it in the chest with the wooden umbrella, and he, too, turned to dust. The crowbar fell to the roof, and slowly slid off of the shallow slope.

She turned, hearing laughter behind her. Just in time, too, as yet another sailor-vamp threw a socket wrench at her head. She ducked it, then ran up the slope of the roof. She knocked him off of the precarious balance he'd found on the crest of the roof, and he was soon scrabbling along the shingles on the far slope, trying to regain his traction before he fell off the roof.

Another sailor-vamp tried rushing her with one of the seemingly ubiquitous fire axes. She parried with her umbrella, but it snapped in half at the force of being hit by the much thicker wood of the fire axe handle. So she picked up the chainsaw, which had luckily fallen to rest about where she was standing, and blocked the next axe-swing with it. Then, she cranked up the saw motor, and the third axe swing sent the axe head flying off the roof, severed from its handle. The fourth swing found Buffy dropping the chainsaw, and carefully catching the axe handle. A short stick-fight later, Buffy had not only wrenched the axe handle from the vamp's hands, but sent him flipping onto the wreckage of the ruined umbrella. Luckily for her, he landed just so, and burst into a cloud of dust.

"That's what, five, six?" She guessed. Honestly, she was so caught up in the fight, she'd already lost count and was simply in survival mode. Dawn hadn't; a crossbow bolt came flying out of one of the now-broken upstairs windows, catching a vamp in the heart just as it was climbing off of one of the ladders.

"The ladders. Of course." She could get down through the upstairs windows - the upstairs of the house was smaller than the downstairs, so the house actually had a split-level roof. The vamps, on the other hand, had to use the ladders or jump. She rushed over to the front-yard side of the house, and started shoving the ladders away from the edge of the roof. She called out, "Get the ones near the ladders!" For the time being, there was only one or two left on the roof, and she didn't want to get surrounded.

Meanwhile, Dawn and Harm were watching the battle on the ladders (and the lower part of the roof) from the upstairs windows. Dawn had armed herself with Buffy's trusty crossbow, and was working the antiquated crank to cock it for a second shot. Unlike Buffy, she couldn't simply pull back the cable; that required Slayer strength. Harm, for his part, had staked two vamps who'd gotten close to the bedroom windows, while trying to clamber up onto the upper part of the roof. They could hear the sounds of axes and chainsaws downstairs, and hoped Will and Mac were handling themselves down there.

In the living room, Mac was staring down Lauren Singer through the gaping hole where the front door had formerly stood. That is, before Lauren had sliced and diced the doorframe with a chainsaw, and kicked the door in. A lot of good that had done, since she still couldn't come inside herself. She'd even given up on trying to trick Mac into letting her in - she'd discovered that Colonel Mackenzie's invitation was worthless, since she didn't live in the house.

Will, on the other hand, was battling over the remains of the kitchen door. Harmony herself hadn't approached - she was standing a good twenty feet away, taunting Willow with childhood insults, like recalling Cordelia's choice comments on Willow's school clothes from the pre-Buffy days. But several of the sailor-vampires had approached, each being defeated by Willow, who was making skilled use of the protective mystical barrier where the door had stood. Every time a vamp would seemingly gain the upper hand, she took a step back, forcing it to lunge forward into the shield, and then staking it before it knew what had happened. She was tempted to break off and show Mac exactly what she was doing, but then thought better of it. "Mac!"

Colonel Mackenzie rushed into the kitchen, a stake in each hand. "What is it, Will?"

"Watch what I'm doing." She stepped out on the back porch, letting another vamp come after her, just as Harmony made some silly remark about the 'softer side of Sears'. The vamp lunged, and Will parried with an arm, allowing it a little closer. Just as it tried to seize her by the shoulders, she jumped back through the open doorway. The vamp, sure enough, lunged forward, and Mac nearly screamed. But Willow calmly said, "I've got you now!" and staked the vamp just seconds after he pancaked himself against the invisible barrier at the threshold. "They can't enter the house, see?"

"Oh, I get it. Very smart." Mac smiled. "Mind if I try it?"

"I could use a breather. Maybe a glass of water." Will nodded. "Just don't go more than about three steps out the door."

Harmony yelled, "Willow Rosenberg, you're such a coward! No wonder you always had Xander and Buffy fighting for you in high school!"

Will scowled. "At least I survived graduation with my body temperature intact!" She blushed. "I can't believe I just said that." She grabbed a bottle of holy water out of a kitchen cabinet, uncorked it, and hurled it out the door toward Harmony. Unfortunately, her aim was off, and it sailed harmlessly into the yard, five feet to Harmony's left. To Mac's questioning eyes, she explained, "Holy water. Harmless to us, like acid to them. And not the LSD kind."

"Well, time to try out this door-fighting technique of yours." Mac grinned, taking a pair of carefully measured steps onto the back porch. Then shefound out why all the action had been at the back door. Apparently the sailor-vamps had enough of their memories intact that they weren't willing to try to attack a Marine Lieutenant Colonel with not one, but two weapons at the ready. Half a dozen of them shrank back, and one even turned and ran out of sight completely.

"Spoilsports." Willow remarked, looking over Mac's shoulder at Harmony. "And she's not even a vampire slayer. Just a Marine. I bet you didn't even tell them that the real vampire slayer is up on the roof." Willow turned. "I haven't had this much luck since I got back to Sunnydale just in time for Yom Kippur a couple weeks ago."

Mac frowned. "I didn't know you were Jewish... but with a name like Rosenberg, I guess I should have figured that out."

Harmony cackled. "Touching moment, guys, real touching. But guess what? You're on the porch!" She rushed them, but pulled up short when both Will and Mac lifted two stakes.... and was that a fifth, hovering behind them in the doorway? "What the...."

Mac smirked. "Just something I thought I'd try." She closed her eyes for a second, and the stake started flying through the air at Harmony, at roughly the speed of a bird. Harmony backed off, and after she was about twelve feet away, the stake fell harmlessly to the ground. Mac sighed.

Will, however, was impressed. "Took me three weeks to levitate a pencil, and even then, I couldn't do it from twelve feet away for another week." She hurled a large stake in Harmony's direction, but Harmony was a bit further away than she could throw the heavy stake, and it fell to the ground well short of its target. "Let's get back inside the doorway. I don't think this is working for us."

Mac nodded, and spoke up loudly. "Too bad this Harmony has an army of such cowards."

"They're not cowards!" Harmony yelled. "They're brave men who signed on to see the world! And I'm showing them the real world!"

Willow grinned. "And the warning label. Keep out of direct sunlight."

"Rosenberg!" Harmony shrieked, finally provoked enough to lunge toward the door. She stopped mid-rush, however - struck on the head by a fire axe handle - and glanced upwards, into the face of Buffy.

For her part, Buffy was standing pretty close to the edge of the roof, a second fire axe in hand. "Back off, Harmony. You're no match for me and mine."

"Oh yeah?" Harmony called out. But it was starting to be obvious that her ragtag army of sailor-vampires wasn't making significant progress on the house, and already at least a third of them had been dusted. "Come down here and fight me, Buffy!"

"Fine." Buffy smirked, and without warning, she jumped down the two stories, landing in the grass just past the back porch. She looked up at harmony from the cat-like stance she'd landed in, waving the fire axe about with one hand. "Bring it."

A swishing sound interrupted Harmony's reaction, and Buffy turned to see Dawn leaning out a window with the crossbow, and another vamp turning to dust just behind Harmony. "Nice shot, Dawnie." Willow commented.

"Nope, I was aiming for Harmony." Dawn replied, before ducking back inside the upstairs window.

Buffy smirked at Harmony. "Nobody's perfect. But at least those of us inside the house are human. Or still human, I should say." She stared at the thing that once was Cordelia's dumb blonde Fashion Police sidekick, Harmony Kendall. "I bet you'd give just about anything to be able to see yourself in a mirror right now. You look hideous." Although, the fact that Harmony was in vamp-face was probably a large part of that....

Harmony smiled. "I've gotten in touch with the inner me. And I like her."

"I hope you're happy together." Buffy said, sarcastically, as she jumped up onto the porch and ducked in the doorway. "What's the next plan, Harmony? Are you going to try to vamp the Ninja Turtles? Or perhaps the Muppets?"

Harmony scowled. "Shut up, Slayer!" Just then, a fire axe shattered the window over the kitchen sink.

"I'm surprised that took this long." Mac commented. "All the living room windows are already broken."

A loud crash came from upstairs, followed by the sound of spraying water. "Dawnie! What's that?" Buffy yelled, already headed for the stairs.

However, it was Commander Rabb that answered. "They broke down part of the bathroom wall, and they hit the shower pipes."

"Damn!" Buffy turned to Will and Mac. "I'd better go help Harm upstairs."

As Buffy left, a half-dozen sailor-vamps approached the doorway once again, and Willow and Mac took turns fighting them in the doorway. The sailor seemed to have lost their fear of Mac. Then again, perhaps they were just getting desperate, Mac thought.

Then she saw their new coach. "Lauren." She scowled. Willow nodded in recognition - this was the evil Lieutenant Singer. Mac had explained who she was - the office malcontent, who was willing to sacrifice other people's careers to advance her own. Apparently, now, she was willing to sacrifice lives, rather than just careers.

Strangely enough, though, those six were the last. A dozen or two must have already fled, because once those had been defeated, Harmony and Singer ran for the Viper, and peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the streets of Sunnydale as fast as the sports car's supercharged engine could accelerate. The work truck, chainsaws, crowbars, axes and ladders their gang had brought were left behind.

Buffy looked around, surveying the damage. "This is going to be costly."

"Maybe not." Willow replied. "After all, Xander's a carpenter now. I'm sure he'd do some of the repairs for you, for free."

"It's still going to be a lot. There's damage all over the house. And I'm pretty sure the roof leaks in at least a dozen places now." She checked the clock.
"We'd all better try to get back to bed. Will, would you mind keeping watch until sunrise?"

"No problem."

Chapter Eight: The Navy Blues

----
Thursday, 0715 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale, CA
----

Dawn pressed down on the little lever on the toaster, and turned to Mac. "How long?"

"Depends on how dark you've got it set. Toasters aren't all that precise." Mac replied. She poked at the bowl of cereal in front of her. She wasn't really all
that hungry; she was trying to figure out how to tell the Admiral what she and Harm had discovered overnight.

"Morning." Willow grumbled, walking in looking rather disheveled in her sweats, which had doubled as both pajamas and combat gear during the night. She went straight for a package of frozen waffles, and proceeded to dump two on a plate and shove them in the microwave.

"Morning, Willow." Mac smiled. "You don't mind if I use the phone?"

"No, go ahead." Willow grabbed the cordless, and tossed it in Mac's general direction. Of course, Mac caught it neatly, and dialed up JAG Headquarters in Virginia.

----
Thursday, 1016 Hours
JAG HQ
Falls Church, Virginia
----

"JAG ops, Lieutenant Sims speaking..."

"Hiyas Harriet, it's Mac. Is the boss in?"

"Sure is, Colonel. How's the Reprisal investigation?"

"Finished. Found out what happened to the sailors, and Singer. But you'll never believe me on the phone. I'll tell you when I see you."

"Sure thing, ma'am. Please hold." Just Harriet's luck, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden happened to be walking by. "Admiral, Colonel Mackenzie's on the phone for you. Line four."

"I'll take it in my office." He vaguely waved his coffee cup in that direction. Mac waited impatiently, and after a moment, he came on the line. "Good morning, Colonel."

----
Thursday, 0717 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale, CA
----

"Morning, Admiral." That got her a raised-eyebrow look from both Willow and Dawn, just as the toaster popped up and the microwave beeped. "I was calling about the Reprisal investigation."

"Oh, right. How's that going?"

"We found out what happened to the missing sailors, sir. And Lieutenant Singer. None of them will be coming back, sir."

"What happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir."

"Try me."

"Vampires, sir. They were all killed by vampires." At his derisive snort, she replied, "I know, it sounds implausible, sir, but I have it on good authority
that Sunnydale is built on some sort of portal from Hell, and all sorts of things happen here. Harm has even managed some personal contacts with a divinely empowered vampire slayer." That earned her naughty grins from Dawn and Willow, by now halfway through their toast and waffles.

"Singer too?"

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Singer has apparently become something of a sidekick to a vampire named Harmony Kendall, who is a sworn enemy of the vampire slayer. They, along with most of the missing sailors, attacked us at her house last night."

"I thought you said they'd been killed."

"Vampires can apparently turn their victims into vampires under certain conditions, sir. In this case, this Harmony was trying to use them as her own
private army, in order to kill the vampire slayer. It didn't work."

"I expect a full report when you get back. And play it safe, Colonel. I don't want to lose you and Harm as well."

"Yes, sir. We'll get out of town before sunset, then. Can you arrange us transport?"

"I'll get Tiner right on it. Call us back in an hour."

"Will do, sir." She punched the disconnect button on the cordless. "That was easier than I thought."

Harm smirked from the doorway behind her. "Not if I know the Admiral. He'll get us back in his office and be asking us 'What the hell is going on?' and not in the most calm tone of voice, either."

Mac shrugged. "Well, he is a former Seal."

Willow looked at her questioningly. "Yet he doesn't believe in vampires?"

Mac looked confused, until Buffy filled her in - having just entered the room in her white shirt and plaid pajama pants. "Selkies. Shapeshifting seals that can become human."

Mac grinned. "Not like that. He was a Navy Seal. Like in the movie. Special forces."

"Oh." Willow commented. "Sorry, living on the Hellmouth, you learn to take things literally, even when they sound completely implausible."

Harm laughed. "Quite often, I could say the same for the United States Navy." He leaned over and kissed Buffy.

"Mmm..." She grabbed him by the hand, and Dawn rolled her eyes. "Let's forget breakfast..." she whispered, as she dragged Harm out of the room.

----
Thursday, 1120 Hours
JAG HQ
Falls Church, Virginia
----

"JAG Ops, Lieutenant Sims speaking."

"Hi again, Harriet, it's Mac. The Admiral told me to call back..."

"Oh, right." Harriet turned away from the phone. "Tiner!"

The Admiral's gatekeeper, Petty Officer Jason Tiner, came running from the coffee room. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Colonel Mackenzie's on the phone. Did you get those travel plans for her and Commander Rabb?"

"Yeah." He pulled a note out of his pocket. "They're booked on a commercial flight from Sunnydale to D.C., leaving there at sixteen-twenty this afternoon. Tickets at will call under her name."

Harriet put the phone back up to her face. "Still there, ma'am?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"You've got a flight out at four-twenty local time this afternoon. The tickets are at the airport will-call counter under your name. We'll have a driver meet you at the D.C. airport and bring you here."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Yeah... what did you tell the Admiral earlier? He's got Bud doing some research on the 'Net..."

"I'll tell you when I see you. Later, Harriet."

----
Thursday, 0830 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale, CA
----

"That your office again?" Will asked.

"Yeah. Just making the arrangements to get out of town before nightfall. Not that I'm not enjoying Sunnydale..."

"But you'd rather make it out alive." Willow finished for her. "I would too... if I hadn't grown up here, and been fighting the forces of darkness since I was
fifteen."

"I hoped you'd understand." Mac smiled. "I just hope it's not too hard on your friend. Harm's kind of the love-'em-and-leave-'em-behind type. Not that he doesn't believe in long term relationships, just that the job requires a lot of travelling..."

"And you haven't told him you love him."

"That too. I don't know when it happened. I used to pick on him for being obsessed with airplanes and finding his father - he was shot down in Vietnam.
But once he found out what happened to his father, and I realized you can take the fighter pilot off the carrier but you can't take the carrier out of the
fighter pilot, well, we get along pretty well." She sipped her tea. "Actually, it's pretty nice, seeing the look on his face when we get assigned to a case on
a carrier. Even this case, his eyes just lit all up, even with the carrier in port. It's like he's got jet fuel in his blood."

Willow nodded. "Buffy's like that. She's grown up being a vampire slayer, and she's always had this thing for warrior types. She's been with a couple tame vampires, a commando, well, you get the picture. The fact that she's fallen for Harm doesn't surprise me in the least." She sipped her own tea, and continued, "It'll be tough on her, though, it always is. They always end up leaving town, and she always thinks they left because of her."

"Well, at least in this case, it's because of his job. Should be some comfort. And Harm's usually the type to keep his options open, in case he ends up back in town in a year or two."

"A girl in every port?"

"Not quite, but something like that." Mac finished her tea. "Well, I'd better go let the Captain of the Reprisal know what happened to his men. Is there a shower I can use?"

"You'll have to use the one in my room. The hall bathroom is being fixed." Willow pointed up at the pounding sound, where Xander was installing a temporary wall of plywood. He'd already told Willow he wouldn't have time to repair it properly until this weekend - and that they'd have to postpone the Museum of Tolerance trip. Will had agreed - she probably would have suggested that anyway, as they'd need to cheer Buffy up over the weekend, and the Museum wasn't exactly that sort of activity.

"Thank you." Mac grabbed a pen, and scrawled out an email address on a sheet of paper from her notebook. "Here's my email address. I'll get yours when you email me something."

"Works for me." Willow tacked the slip of paper up on the front of the fridge, and headed upstairs to help Xander.

----
Thursday, 1030 Hours
Bridge, U.S.S. Reprisal
Pier 13
Sunnydale Harbor
----

"What are you trying not to tell me, Colonel Mackenzie?"

"Sir, that's classified. But what I can tell you is that they're not coming back, and there is a continuing danger in town. You're advised not to allow
anyone on or off the ship during nighttime hours."

"What about cutting the visit short and leaving town early?"

"That's up to you, sir, but as long as the ship is locked down at night, you should have no further disappearances or other problems."

"I imagine I'll never see the full report on this incident, will I?"

"No, sir. I suspect Admiral Chegwidden will be sending you a censored copy in a few days, sir."

"Well, as long as someone gets the full story."

"The locals are well equipped to handle this particular problem. I'm sure it won't be any more trouble, as long as you follow those recommendations, sir." She hoped he didn't notice that she had not specifically referred to the local authorities.

"Fine. Dismissed, Colonel." As she started to walk away, the Captain asked, "By the way, what happened to your partner?"

"He's taking care of another loose end from our investigation. We're leaving this afternoon, sir." She handed him her card. "If you feel the need to follow
up, you can call me at the Washington office."

"I just might do that, Marine. Dismissed."

----
Thursday, 1420 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale, CA
----

"What do you mean, you're leaving? So soon?" Dawn pouted.

"We've got to get back to Washington." Colonel Mackenzie explained. "We're scheduled for a flight out in two hours."

"But... what about Buffy?" she squeaked.

Willow cringed. Dawn had known. "She's an adult, and Harm's upstairs telling her all about it. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Like with Riley?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine in a few days, Dawnie. She had to know Harm wasn't going to be in town long."

"I guess."

"Why don't you go set up the chessboard in the kitchen, Dawnie. I'm going to see them out, and then I'll play you."

"Okay." Dawn bubbled, and headed off to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry you have to leave so soon..."

Mac waved her off. "Don't worry. We'll still be pen pals. And you can keep tabs on Singer for us."

"I'll make sure to get you a jar of dust when we catch up with her."

"Good. Harm!" She yelled up the stairs.

"Coming, Mac!" he burst out of Buffy's room, in his dress whites, sea bag over one shoulder. "Time to go already?"

"Yeah, we've got an hour and fifty-seven minutes before our flight leaves."

"We'd better get going, then." He ducked inside the bedroom door to kiss Buffy goodbye, and then bounded down the stairs. Just as they were leaving, Willow caught the door behind them. "Be safe, and keep in touch."

"We will." Mac confirmed, tossing Harm the car keys. "Let's go, flyboy."

Willow turned, and headed into the kitchen. Dawn promtly plunked down one of her white knights in front of her untouched row of pawns. "Your move, Willow."

----
Thursday, 1650 Hours
An airplane somewhere over central California
----

"Harm, why do you always do that?"

He looked up from his 'Aviation Week' magazine. "What do you mean?"

"You are such the ladies' man. You don't even know that you broke that girl's heart."

"She knew all along we'd have to leave when it was all over."

"Yes... but you didn't have to romance her while we were there. And you do this all the time."

"Maybe I'm not ready for a long-term commitment. And besides, with our job? Who would have me, other than you?"

Mac blushed, just a little. "Good point." She shrugged. "At least we've got quite the story for the Admiral and Bud and Harriet."

----
Thursday, 1930 Hours
1630 Revello Drive
Sunnydale, CA
----

"Buffy..."

Buffy looked up, here eyes puffy from a few hours' worth of tears. "What?"

"You knew all along he'd have to leave when they got to the bottom of this." Willow stated. "Don't feel too sorry for yourself. He didn't leave because of
you. He left because he had to leave."

"I guess. But why do I fall for these guys?"

"They're warriors, and so are you. It's a common bond. Think about it."

"You're right." She reached for a slice of leftover pizza. "Still, warn me next time, okay?" Buffy's voice was a little ragged from the sobbing, but she was
recovering pretty quickly.

Willow nodded, taking another bite of her tuna sandwich, as Dawn slipped her favorite DVD into the player. Buffy rolled her eyes... "Not that movie again!"

Dawn turned, offended. "If you'd just crack a book sometime, you'd realize why I like Harry Potter so much." She hit PLAY and bounced over to the couch.

Xander smiled. "Have to admit, she's cute when she's going all gooey-eyed over Harry Potter."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, you are, Dawnie." Willow offered.

"I meant, I'm not going gooey-eyed over him!"

"Right." Buffy said, in her most laced-with-sarcasm voice. "I think I'll just..." She yawned. "Sit here and take a nap."

Willow looked at her knowingly. "Didn't get much sleep last night, did you?"

Dawn looked at Buffy, slightly offended, as Buffy snored just as her movie started. "She's going to snore right through Dumbledore!"

Willow shook her head, grabbing Buffy's feet. "No, she isn't. Xander, her shoulders. Let's take her up to her room, so Dawnie can watch her movie in
peace."

~Fin~

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