Still 107 days till Apocalypse

Spike fiddled with his head seat and said, "All units report." His five assistants watched their computer screens in the mansion computer center with no small amount of apprehension, seeing that this was their first large scale operation.

Xander and Anya sat outside the old Catholic church, dressed in black from head to toe. They calmly surveyed the darkness.

"Tower and Justice checking in and moving into position," Anya replied, standing up and walking away from Xander as he loaded his shotgun.

Buffy tugged at her number 2 white dress. It was very short, with a back, and a front. There was a white flimsy scarf tied over her neck, concealing her communicator and Spike's telltale marks. She didn't look as trashy as the other two. Cordelia was wearing this blue vinyl . . . thing, and Willow. . . Well, Buffy had no clue where Willow had ever found the black leather sheathe that was her outfit. Against that black Willow's hair shone like fire. Between those two, Buffy almost felt outclassed in the `dressing like a hooker' contest as Cordelia had blithely referred to it.

They were able to actively listen to the other members of the web, which was why Buffy got to be in charge of communications. In addition to staring off into the darkened edges of Miller's Woods.

Buffy leaned her head toward the microphone, "Lover II, Justice, and High Priestess a-okay."

Willy handed Joyce a gin-and-tonic at the bar. She set her communicator under her napkin, saying, "Star and Temperance ready."

"Showtime," Angel nodded at the lawyer with the communicator.

Already trained to follow orders from years at Wolfram and Hart, the lawyer spoke into the communicator, "Pentacles Five, Six, and Hanged Man ready."

One of the two lawyers turned the transistor on in his pocket. Angel sat up higher on the tombstone he was perched on. The other lawyer replaced the gun in his breast pocket.

"Hermit and Strength," Pike said, putting a clip in his gun, "Locked and loaded." Oz kicked some sand with his bare foot and faced the road, waiting.

Giles stretched his legs from his place on the bench outside the Magic Shoppe. He had his communicator hidden in his newspaper. "Hierophant reporting in."

Harmony tucked the camouflaged head-set deeper into her hair. "I love that this is just like a hairband."

Jeremy cleared his throat and tried to make small talk, "So you went to school here."

"I died here," Harmony confirmed. "Queen of Swords and Moon are set."

"Alright, Lover I here," Spike spun in his chair to face the remaining four members of the coven and Wesley. "I need you five to keep a sharp eye on those readings. Tell me the second you track anyone moving, running, getting the crap kicked out of them." He sighed, hating that he was stuck in the mansion out of the action. True, he was for all intents and purposes in Sunnydale dead, and the web could potentially take him down at any time, which did make him something of a contingent liability on the field.

Still, he felt useless here. He needed to be doing something that was at least superficially useful. Other than the essential job of regulating the web, which he did in his sleep anyways.

"Here's the deal," Spike stood up. "I'm going upstairs. Be a luv, and call me it you need anything."

Wesley raised his hand, "Shouldn't you be here?"

Tara backed him up, "What about when-"

"I'm still listening to the transmissions, and, yes, I will be able to spring all the web stuff we need. Don't you worry. It's all under control." He turned and went up the stairs.

Xander spoke into his headset, "We've got a Scully incoming at 6 o'clock."

"Roger that," Tara answered, "Is it the target?"

"Confirming preliminary scan now." Xander jumped out from behind the sign, shotgun out, stopping the short boy.

"Xander!" Jonathan exclaimed, dropping his book bag in surprise. "What's going on?"

"Anya," Xander cocked his head, and she stepped out into the light behind Jonathan. "Check his bag."

She picked it up and started rummaging through it while Xander scanned Jonathan a second time. His first impression was right; not only was this Jonathan, he was not Blighted.

"Okay. I've got a cross, a stake, a spell book, and a bottle of pills," Anya reported.

"Pills?" Xander looked pointedly at Jonathan.

He shrugged, "My anti-depressants."

"What's with the rest of the stuff?" Xander indicated the more arcane items from the bag.

"I figured that if things were bad enough to call me, I'd need weapons. About the book, someone in my support group recommended it. They said there was something in it that could help me build my confidence. I was thinking about checking it out, but then you guys called."

Anya replaced his things in the bag and gave it back to him, "The High Priestess will probably want to have a look at it." "How did you get here?" Xander asked him, mentally scanning for anyone else around.

"I hitched to the border. My ride didn't want to come in," Jonathan explained. "Then I walked." He glanced at them quizzically, "Did I pass?"

"With flying colors," Xander told him and then spoke to Anya, "Perimeter clear?"

She nodded, "Good to go. I've got your back." Anya pulled out her crossbow and assumed a guard position.

"What's going on here?" Jonathan wondered.

"Bad stuff," Xander headed into the church. "Follow me, and I hope you're not afraid of a little blood."

A pick-up truck with a tarp over the back stopped in front of the three girls standing under the streetlight by Miller's Woods. Three young men peered out at them. The driver, a black man with a shaved head, unrolled his window to ask, "Is this Miller's Woods?"

Cordelia winked at him, sidling up to his window, "Yeah, this is Miller's Woods. You looking for someone?"

Buffy smiled at the men in the truck, casually whispering into her scarf, "Lover II here. The three Scully targets are in sight. We need the Vaders."

"Patience, luv," Spike's voice told her. "They're coming."

"You certainly found someone," Willow waked over to the passenger side of the truck, wiggling her leather-encased hips.

Giving them a look that communicated some world-weary, `I've-seen-all-this-already' attitude, the driver replied in a long-suffering tone, "I don't think you three ladies can help us."

"You're sure about that?" Cordelia leaned forward over his window. "We can be really helpful, if you let us."

That was when Buffy's spider sense started to twitch, and Willow spun around, "Twelve Vaders incoming."

"ETA?" Buffy asked shortly, drawing a stake.

"Thirty seconds," Willow climbed nimbly onto the hood of the truck.

Seeing there had to be some danger, the driver made a move to unsnap his seatbelt. Cordelia grabbed his wrist. "Gunn. Stay in the truck. Trust me." Managing somehow not to flash them, she got into the back of the truck and sat on the roof. She pulled a large squirt gun out of her vinyl bag and started to cover the sides of the truck with water. Then she sprayed Buffy from head to toe too.

Calmly standing between the truck and the woods, dripping wet, Buffy mentally counted down. *Five. Four. Three. Two. One-*

The twelve vampires Spike had roused awake from the woods came out of the trees, right at her.

Cordelia turned her gun on the first two, aiming for their eyes. She didn't have to bother because when the water hit their faces, it took off their heads too. Tripping three with a low spin kick, Buffy let their forward momentum carry them directly into the side of the truck where they promptly went up in flames. She threw her stake through the heart of another and decided to retreat to the truck. One tried to grab her wet shoulder, but his hand disintegrated the second he touched her.

This made the vampires pause. Backflipping onto the bed of the truck, Buffy knew they were confused as to why touching her had such an effect. Though she could have easily taken the remaining six, Buffy smiled to Willow, "Grand finale, Will?"

Willow, who had stayed on the hood with her eyes closed, opened them to say, "I just need another second-" She suddenly threw her hands forward with a single harsh yell. A ball of white-hot flame erupted from her hands, hitting the pack of vamps. Only one got out of the way while the other five when up in a blaze of burning skin.

Almost as an afterthought, Cordelia shot him in the chest, and he instantly dissolved too. "Clear?" she asked Buffy.

Hopping back onto the ground, Buffy went to the pile of ashes and plodded it with her foot. "I'm thinking so." She lifted the mic to her mouth, "Judgment, High Priestess, and Lover II all clear." She smiled at Spike's audible sigh of relief.

"Hello in there," Cordelia got off the cab and knocked on Gunn's window. "Where were we?"

He unrolled his window with a much different expression on his face, "Who are you? How do you know my name, and-" he glanced down at her squirt gun, "-What the Hell is in that gun, girl?"

"Cordelia Chase, Angel Investigations, and this," she hefted her squirt gun, "Is holy water blessed by fifteen priests and mixed with garlic powder."

He eyed the other two cautiously, especially Willow, "And what are they?"

"A witch and a vampire slayer."

"Vampire slayer? I could be into that kind of girl."

"I don't think so. She's slightly taken. You should see her boyfriend. Only Angel and her even try to talk back to him."

"Speaking of, where is Nightwing?"

Coming up to them after catching some of the chatter on the radio, Buffy told them, "I'd say he's a little busy right about now."

"Two Scullies enroute," Pentacles Six told his mic.

"Can you handle it on your own?" Wesley asked. "Do you need back up?"

Angel heard them, "Tell him only if we get into trouble."

"We'll call," Six relayed.

"Make sure Poofy doesn't let it get out of hand," Spike interrupted them. "I'll be waiting. Lover I out."

The lawyer snapped his communicator shut, "Here they come."

The black car stopped at the edge of the cemetery. Lindsey McDonald and Lilah Morgan stepped out, appraising their reception committee coolly.

"Don't bother turning off the engine," Angel got off the grave. "Five, will you?"

Before the two could protest, the other ex-lawyer was in the car, driving away.

"In case you were wondering," Angel said, "You're not going to see that again. Something about disabling the tracking device installed in the engine seems to do the car no good."

Lindsey glowered at Six, who shrugged, "You'll understand later."

"If you'll excuse my associate, we have to check you know for other electronic devices. I know you wouldn't think of trying to pull anything like that. I mean, after you were warned and all, but it's always better to be safe than sorry," Angel `apologized' as Six frisked the two.

Lilah gave Angel a glare that could have instantly melted ice and addressed Six, "You betrayed the Firm. You're going to pay for this."

Pentacles Six stood up and handed two cell phones and four different electronic bugs to Angel, "I don't think so."

"What have we here?" Angel examined the equipment. "I'd say this is what, fifteen thousand dollars?" He smashed them together, reducing them to metallic dust, which he threw into the trashcan, "How many people did you have to kill to make that much? Ten? Fifteen? Fifty?"

"The Firm is going to find us," Lindsey stuck out his chin.

"The Firm isn't going to be able to do a thing," Pentacles Six said.

"What did they do to you?" Lilah exclaimed in disbelief because he had at one point been even more loyal to Wolfram and Hart than even she.

"Do you like things the way they are?" Angel called their attention away from Six.

"What does that mean?" Lindsey was incredulous.

"Do you like things the way they are? Do you like the power you have, reaping the benefits by trampling the poor and meek? Do you like the world the way it is?"

The lawyers shared a look, and Lindsay finally replied, "I guess."

"So anything that threatens the balance of power in one way or another would be bad, right? That is what Wolfram and Hart is all about, keeping power where it is."

"I suppose you could look at it that way."

"Then what if I told you that the balance isn't just going to shift, but that it's going to be struck by lightning, destroying everything."

"What if I told you I thought this was some scheme to try to threaten the Firm?" Lilah cut in.

"Then what if I show you the truth?" Angel countered. "We showed him." He indicated Six.

That made Lilah blink, "So this is some weird invitation to a cult?"

"Not even close. This is war, and believe me, you don't want to be on the other side. You want me to show you too?"

The two considered for a second, not knowing that Six was keeping a tight `ear' on their emotions. They had the assumption that they could pretend to go along with it and then run back to the firm to sell the information to the aforementioned other side. That was what he'd thought too, three days back.

At last, Lilah, being the senior partner, nodded, "We're in."

"I hoped you would be. But before we go-" Angel gave Six a knife from his pocked, "We'll need to do a small blood charm. Standard procedure here in Sunnydale."

After the web got two more members, Pentacles Six radioed back, "Targets acquired and bonded."

Joyce whispered into her napkin, "Star and Temperance. Target Mulder approaching."

Ethan Rayne pulled up a seat next to her, the only other person in the bar, and ordered a beer. He turned to Joyce and gave her his most flirtatious smile, "Hello."

"Hi," Joyce sipped her drink, "Are you meeting someone here?"

"An old friend," he revealed. "But since he doesn't appear to be here . . . Say, have we met?"

"It's possible. Do you live in Sunnydale?"

"On occasion," He extended a hand, "Ethan Rayne."

At that moment Willy set a beer in front of him. Turning away from his new companion, he heard a click and felt something poke him in the stomach.

"In that case," Joyce said, revolver in hand, "I'm Joyce Summers. Maybe did you remember me now. Did I ever get the chance to tell you how much I liked you band candy?"

"No, though you are well within your rights to express you sentiments," Ethan glanced wildly at the bartender. He froze because he looked directly down the barrel of the gun Willy had trained on his forehead. "I must say. This is the most lovely welcome I've had in three years."

"Things are a little tense around here," Willy informed him.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"So who're you meeting here?" Joyce asked.

"You know the bloke, Ripper." The gun jabbed him in the stomach. "Rupert Giles. We were old mates. We did spells together way back when."

Joyce pulled the gun back. "Then you won't mind if we do a little spell right here?"

Aware of Willy's gun still pointed at his head, Ethan shook his head, "Not at all."

"Strength and Hermit reporting. We've got three Jedi here and one Scully," Pike watched the ice truck stop by the beach. "Two of the Jedi are mostly asleep."

He and Oz advanced on the truck slowly. An exotic-looking woman stuck her head out a window. "I am here to see Angel."

"He couldn't be here," Pike said regretfully.

"Then we are going. He promised us protection." She nodded to the driver.

"Wait," Pike stepped closer. "We are your protection, for now."

"You don't look like it," she scoffed.

Oz transformed into the wolf right on cue. Jheira paused, visibly startled. "Maybe you will do."

"Ma'am," Pike addressed her. "Do you want us to help you girls?"

"Like him?" she watched Oz calmly sitting by them. She'd been in this dimension long enough to know that was not typical werewolf behavior, even with there being no moon in the sky.

"It will use magic," Pike warned, her aura of non-Blightedness already noted.

"I don't care. Do whatever it takes," Her eyes were almost glowing.

"Then we'll do it." He clicked his com, "Lover I, get ready."

Spike braced himself, knowing what was coming. From what Angel had told him about these demons, it would be tough. At least Pike was doing it. On the off chance that Oz were able to infect them with his werewolf status, it could complicate the matter more than slightly.

The first one to join staggered him back. He hit a wall as a wave of heat struck his head. Vision blurring under a burning haze, Spike stumbled his way toward the nearest door. If he was going to get taken down by this, he wasn't going to go down in the hall.

Lurching through the doorway, Spike fell forward onto the closest bed as two more waves hit in rapid succession.

It was much worse than the first one. So hot, like he went outside and stood in full sunlight to fry. He could feel the heat blistering him from all directions, surrounding him, crushing him. There was only the fire, the light, the anger, the fear, the lust shining painfully through his closed eyes.

Reaching out with as much mental control as he could muster, Spike slowly took hold of the fire. He concentrated, thinking calming cool thoughts about water and ice, never letting the heat blaze. The fire started to dim, its heat dropping under his ministrations. Carefully, he loosened his grip, hoping he'd been able to contain them. If he had failed, he was going to know now.

Nothing happened.

Spike opened his eyes in relief and tried to figure out where he was. The bed wasn't his, even though there was a framed picture of Buffy on the nightstand. He groaned; he was in Angel's room. On Angel's bed. Definitely his sign to leave. However, as Spike stood, his vision pinwheeled for a completely new reason.

The bed. He thought he could actually see through it. Yep, the bed had gone all transparent. And it wasn't his imagination that told him there was a black book between the mattress and the bed frame.

Being a seer certainly hadn't given Spike any scruples of any type. If the PTB's decided there was some value to whatever was in that book, then he'd better see what it was. He could understand why Drusilla had snapped through and through with the visions. She probably just wasn't able to take things like this in as a normal everyday occurrence the way he did.

One the other hand, Angel had killed her family and everyone she knew . . .

Spike picked up the mattress and pulled out the book. It was a real live black book, full of phone numbers. Phone numbers, in fact, of a few people Angel had not suggested when they had gone about contacting people for tonight. Apparently Angel had no intention of talking to any of those potential allies since he'd gone as far to hid the book, though Spike privately felt the Poof could have picked a more original place for the book. Maybe he should have checked there for the Gem of Amara back in LA.

Well, if Angel wasn't going to do anything about these people, then Spike would.

He turned his heel and walked down the stairs to find Willow's satellite linked phone.

Kate Lockley got out of her car on the deserted main street of Sunnydale. Expecting a tall dark vampire hiding in the shadows, she was surprised to find a middle-aged man sitting in plain sight in front of a store.

"Hello, Miss," the man greeted her. "Could you be a Kate Lockley, by any chance?" The man was definitely English from the accent alone.

She flipped open her badge, "Kate Lockley, LAPD. Do you have a problem."

"Not at all. In actuality, I'm here for you."

"Really?" Kate raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Angel sent you? What are you?" She held up a cross with her other hand.

The man reached out and took it from her without the slightest sign of discomfort, "I'm Rupert Giles, and you're going to need something stronger than that."

"Why? Vampires, crosses. It works."

"We're not just dealing with vampires in Sunnydale. There's demons, witches, werewolves, and evil wearing human form." He handed her a small wrapped package, "You'll need these."

She took it from him and opened it gingerly, staring at the small objects inside, "What are they?"

"Silver bullets, doused in holy water, laced with garlic, and blessed with demon killing spells," Mr. Giles explained. "They should fit in your chamber quite well."

"Thanks," Kate immediately reloaded her sidearm. "They could be useful." She gave him a suspicious once-over. "Why are you helping me? We don't know each other."

"I need a small favor, and frankly, I know you have no intention of dying here."

"A favor?" her voice was very careful.

"It would help immensely if you would allow me to perform a blood-tie ceremony."

"I'm going to have to turn that one down," Kate replied without regret. "I try to stay out of the whole cult scene."

"We are not a cult. The ceremony is done to show commitment to the Cause."

"And what's the Cause?" Kate asked coldly.

He looked directly into her eyes, "Protect the innocent. Keep those who killed Mary Collins from killing again." They held gazes for a few seconds.

Kate lowered her eyes, "Fine. I'll do it."

"I wish my Slayer were half as obedient as you," Giles said, pricking her finger with a needle. He pricked his own finger, mixed the blood, whispered the required Latin, and said, "All done."

She blinked away the rush of colors she thought she'd felt, "That was it."

"What were you expecting? A flash of lightning?"

"I don't know. What's a Slayer? He doesn't sound to peaceful."

"She, actually, and she slays vampires." Giles rolled his eyes sheepishly, "Or she does when she's not dating them."

Finally, Kate cracked a smile, "I see your problem."

"You have no idea." He checked his watch, "You should be going. You are due at the station now."

"How did you - Never mind."

"We'll be in touch," Giles told her as she went to her car. "And Kate-"

"What?"

"Watch your back. Sunnydale is a whole new level."

She twirled her gun back into its holster. "I got the idea."

"Hello?" David Nabbit picked his way across the burned out school yard carefully. He looked uneasily to the left, "Angel? Cordelia?"

"Hi," a male voice said. David spun around to the right and saw a young dark-haired man step out from the shadows. "Can I help you?"

Somewhat unnerved by the man stealthy approach, David tried to control himself, "I-I-I was meeting someone here."

"Really?" a new voice piped up from right behind him. David jumped back from the blonde who had snuck up on him.

"Ahh-" David shut his mouth with great difficulty. "Hi." How had they moved in on him so quietly? "I'm just here looking for a friend."

"Named?" the blonde asked, stepping closer.

"Angel," David backed away from her and bumped into the man. Turning to apologize, David suddenly wished he hadn't.

There wasn't a man anymore. It was . . . . a wolf. A giant black wolf with jaws that could easily tear him limb from limb.

Stumbling back, David collided with the girl. She wasn't looking so good, either. Her face was all twisted up, and she . . . . had fangs at least three inches long.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The girl whistled to the dog, who climbed off the pile of clothes it had been sitting on and rubbed up against her leg. "No, not unless you really want me to, but then they'd get mad at me. So do I have to?" She sounded like such an airhead.

"No," David carefully examined the first vampire and werewolf he'd ever met. Demons he'd seen, but this was different. They weren't making any hostile gestures toward him. In fact, all they'd done so far was scare him. He thought about the call he'd received from Angel's secretary, Cordelia Chase. Then he understood, "You guys aren't here to kill me."

"Didn't I just tell you that?" the blonde whined.

"I got it," David grinned. "This is going to be so cool."