"A Sovereign Light to Unite the World" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Final Fantasy XV/Harry Potter/Thundercats/Others?)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this myself and I do not intend to change this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are readers who enjoy my stories. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me for using the mentioned properties to tell a story. I can assure you that you will not get even a tenth of your legal fees back from me. I am but a simple bachelor working minimum wage with the usual middle class bills to pay.

Note : First and foremost let me make it clear that I do not write these stories because I intend to turn writing into a career. I write them because it's fun and it feels nice to receive positive reviews or at least constructive criticism reviews. In the interests of maximizing the quality I do have a beta reader go over every chapter before it is posted. Bottom line? If you do not like my stories or my writing style then I suggest you find something else to read because no matter how hard you bash my work or what sort of negative reviews you write I will ignore you and continue on as if you don't exist. No one is forcing you to read my work and no amount of negative reviews will convince me to give up writing or change how I do things. In fact bashing my work or writing overly negative reviews will only spark defiance in me and motivate me to keep on writing.

Note 2: This is going to be something of an experiment for me in terms of approach and properties involved. Therefore I hope you will forgive any minor mistakes you encounter and still enjoy the story.

Note 3: In terms of timeline this will take place during season 3 of BtVS, in the Harry Potter side of things this will start during both parts of the Deathly Hollows movies and as for the Thundercats side of things it will take elements from both the 2011 cartoon and the 1980s cartoon. Naturally since this is a crossover while there will be some adherence to canon there will also be some changes in the name of artistic license and suspension of disbelief. In the case of that last part I know that some readers will have a greater suspension ability than others but I will do my best to keep those who cannot bring themselves to suspend their disbelief to this degree to a minimum.

Now enough of that stuff let's get on with the show!

A Sovereign Light to Unite the World

It has happened before.

It will happen again.

Scientists would have you believe the universe operates on a timetable of a big bang, expansion, cessation, retraction and then collision, sparking a new big bang. While they have no way of proving it they believe that this sequence has been going on repeatedly for a period of time beyond human comprehension and would continue to go on for a likewise amount of time. What they do not realize is that while the skeleton of their theory is accurate, the meat, the details, is as far from the truth as they can be.

After all, in the realm of science there is no room for the supernatural, whether it manifested in the form of forces that can be harnessed or beings that defy the rules of science.

There is definitely no room for an almighty creator of everything that can bring things into being or remove them from existence with a single thought.

The truth was that not just the universe but all of existence came into being and developed on its own before, only for it all to be reborn, restarted or reincarnated depending on the various points of view that exist. The end was always different each time it happened for the most part but, like many of the tales spun by sentient beings, darkness was always a critical component. Whether it took actual physical form or merely influenced sentient beings into eradicating everything, darkness was always a part of the termination process. Some believe that this is simply the way of things, that sooner or later everything comes to an end, but there is another possibility.

The possibility that existence was meant to be eternal but due to the machinations of evil and its various manifestations, damage mounted up over time until reality could no longer sustain itself.

Naturally the one that created each existence did not want its creation to be destroyed but was unable to prevent it despite some very impressive efforts. Therefore, after the destruction of each existence, the Creator attempted to do better than before and create a reality that the darkness could not harm, much less bring to an end. It changed rules, improved upon the mortal inhabitants and even planted seeds of energy that it knew could harm the darkness. However this only changed the length of duration for each reality, some being shorter while others lasted longer, with all of them still succumbing to the darkness of evil.

The only thing that kept the Creator from feeling such things as frustration or anger was the fact that it was eternal and it had a different perception of time compared to all other forms of life.

It had as much time as it wanted.

As such it would continue its work for as long as it wanted until it succeeded in creating an existence, a reality, truly eternal in nature and impervious to the darkness of evil.

It would examine its past failures to see where its mistakes were made while also incorporating the elements that proved most successful into the next iteration of existence.

One such iteration was unfolding at that very moment and up until a short time ago as the Creator reckoned things, it had been following the same path towards termination as the previous realities. However an anomaly had manifested, an unexpected deviation that defied probability, and this made the Creator happy since it meant that events would now unfold differently.

Would it be for the better? Or would the end come that much quicker?

In all likelihood it would depend on whether or not the elements used in the mortal's creation were brought into full bloom or not. If they were then optimistically the Creator might very well have produced a reality superior to all previous iterations. If not then at the very least another formula, another recipe, could be crossed off and its more promising elements carried over into the next iteration.

For now it would simply observe.

Sunnydale, California, North America

January 21st, 1999

The Streets of Sunnydale

Xander's POV

What has the world come to when the organizations charged with its safety take pages from the playbooks of those who threatened it?

That was the question he had to ask himself repeatedly ever since the whole mess with the Watcher's Council and their bloody test had come to an end. He had originally thought that Buffy had fallen victim to a curse of some kind or some demon mojo but, the more the gang had researched, the less they found. In the end G-Man's own guilty soul caused him to reveal the truth: a test passed down through the ages within the Council. Every time a Slayer reached eighteen her Watcher was expected to covertly use specific means to strip his charge of her powers until she was no deadlier than your average teenage girl. Then the Council threw their protector of humanity into a controlled environment with a strong vampire, intent on seeing if she was smart enough to win without her Slayer powers. The Slayers who succeeded were recognized by the Council and never again could any of the ordinary members question her methods or her abilities.

Most Slayers DIDN'T pass the test and died at the hands of whatever vampire had been secured to be their opponent.

It got worse, though, when Giles revealed that the vampire, Kralik, managed to escape from his captors, killing them before leaving the controlled environment. That little fact should've at the very least put the entire test on hold if not put a stop to it altogether but that was not the case. For one thing Travers didn't see Kralik's escape as a good enough reason for ending the test OR G-Man's revelation to Buffy. For another Kralik turned out to be all in favor of the test so long as it happened on his terms with no control measures in place to save the Slayer should she not prove up to the task of dusting him. Worse than that, the bloodsucker had chosen to kidnap Missus S to use as bait in order to ensure that the Slayer showed up for her execution.

In the end Buffy proved she was more than capable but Giles… because G-Man came to the rescue he'd been fired by the Council. From what he'd been told, Travers thought that a Watcher should be coldhearted and dedicated to the cause, not the troops.

The problem with that, though, was that if you threw your troops under the bus too many times they'd stop obeying orders in favor of taking care of each other. Without troops those that gave orders would find themselves left to their own devices when it came to running their kingdom or protecting it against all the threats that sought to bring it down.

Since then, though, the gang had taken to doing light patrols through some of the less troublesome areas of Sunnydale. The rules were simple: look for signs of trouble and report in if you found anything of note. It was made clear that no aggressive action was to be taken solo against the demons, even if it was just a lone fledgling vampire. Without Buffy and her powers, even a single vampire could bring about death to the most determined of humans.

While a part of him wanted to believe that he could handle a single vamp so long as he was smart about it, he wasn't exactly eager to test that belief in live combat.

That was what he was doing now, though his right hand never left the cross in his pocket or the bottle of holy water in his left hand. True, not everything that prowled atop the Hellmouth would burn if it got holy water splashed on it or a cross shoved in its face, but it was better than nothing. However the best tools for any demon hunter he'd come to understand were his own senses and using them to detect danger before it got close enough to hurt him. As such he looked about at all the shadows on either side of the street for some sign of trouble or something Hellmouthy while not letting himself get too close to them.

It was as he turned a corner though that he spotted something odd.

Three stores down and across the street was old man Isaac's Antique shop but, while it should be dark and closed at this time of night, he could see that the door was wide open. Not only that but he could also see a faint light from within that was moving about, making him instantly suspicious of what might be going on. While not a regular, Tony had occasionally sent him there to try and pawn off whatever dusty old knick-knack he'd found in the attic or find a cheap replacement for something that'd broken in the house. The old man who ran the place was a little off in the head but still relatively pleasant to speak with and had always treated him kindly. It'd been almost two years since he'd last been to the shop, Tony's drinking binges not having broken anything in that time, but he still took notice of it whenever he was in the area.

Knowing it could be nothing, he decided to move in for a closer look to see if anything was wrong. For all he knew Mister Isaac was just doing some late night work when a fuse blew, leaving his shop in darkness with only a flashlight to see anything with. Then again this was a Hellmouth and the scary tended to happen more often than the simple. It was as he got less than a dozen steps from the open door of the store that he heard sounds that either implied that Isaac had snapped and was intent on destroying his own merchandise or there were some uninvited guests making a mess.

It wasn't until he was crouched right outside the door though that he heard growls and snarls that didn't belong to any non-demonic life form he knew of.

That settled it; Hellmouthiness had found old man Isaac and it wasn't being kind to the elderly gent.

"Where is Light, human?" rasped a demonic voice threateningly. "We know it here! WHERE!"

"Oh, it could be there… or maybe there… or maybe it's over there," Isaac replied, sounding like he'd taken some solid hits to his body. "We old humans tend to forget things fairly easily, I'm afraid."

Judging by the increase in growls and the thumps of heavy blows, whatever breed of demon was accosting Isaac hadn't reacted well to the old man's response.

He's not going to last very long, he thought as he listened to the beating. Old bones and demons that might have strength greater than the strongest human make for a painful and drawn out death.

He needed to do something, even if he might be getting in over his head. Again.

There was no telling how much longer Mister Isaac had before the damage to his body became irrevocably fatal and, even if he managed to get the others there soon, that didn't necessarily mean they'd fare too much better.

Carefully creeping into the shop, he narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out precisely how many foes he had to contend with as well as what he had to work with. Peeking over the top of a table he could spot three… no, four demons standing around something on the floor, all dressed in a combination of robes and various metallic accessories. He couldn't see any weapons but that could mean that they were concealed beneath their robes or that they were deadly enough without weapons that they didn't need them. None of them looked particularly muscled or strong but neither did vampires until they slammed their fists into your face. Still, it didn't look like they'd noticed him yet so he still had the element of surprise.

Looking about he tried to find a suitable weapon, something heavy ended or sharp would be best, and finally found it in the form of a sheathed short sword resting in a display case five steps away. True, he had no way of knowing if the blade inside was still sharp or if the weapon was just a display piece, its edges deliberately dulled, but he figured it was his best shot. Creeping more silently than the times when he wanted out of the house without Tony noticing him he advanced on the case holding the weapon. Carefully looking it over he couldn't see any locks on it so he grasped the lid, lifting it up so he could get at the contents inside. He had to be certain that there was no noise or else he'd give away his presence but, once he felt the lid reach its limit, he carefully let it go while being prepared for the possibility of it coming back down.

A few seconds later the sheathed weapon was in his hand and out of the case, allowing him to close the latter in complete silence.

Hearing a particularly nasty sound that definitely, possibly a bone breaking, he knew he'd only get one chance at this so he crept closer to the quartet, using the various display cases and tables as cover. When he figured that he was as close as he was going to get without being spotted he gripped the hilt of the short sword and quietly began to pull it out of its sheath.

Or at least he tried to. The construction of the sheath made it so that even with great care, the scraping of steel was unavoidable.

Thus the four demons took notice of his presence and his desire for a sneak attack was thwarted.

Shit.

Speed it was, then.

Charging the nearest demon he thrust the tip of the short sword forward hopefully to where a vital organ rested and, as luck would have it, there was still enough surprise in the demons for it to be taken aback by his bold move. Feeling the weapon pierce flesh he felt confident that this was not simply a useless display piece but rather a weapon ready for battle. Shifting his grip a bit he then forced the blade to cut to the side until it left the demon's body, almost succeeding in cutting it in two.

As soon as the dead demon fell clear of his line of sight towards the next closest demon he hopped over it to make his kill count two. Sadly the shock and surprise of his presence wore off and, just as his sword was about to hit the second demon's left shoulder, a decidedly nasty looking dagger was brought up to block. He knew he was no duelist, even with the memories he'd inherited from Soldier Boy, so he decided to fall back on the tricks he knew for dealing with bullies. Trick number one? Break their stance. You needed a solid stance to attack so he lashed out with his right leg, aiming for the demon's knee. There was very little skill involved, clearly, but he somehow successfully hit it from the side, putting the demon off balance and leading to trick number two: people can't defend very well on their back. With all the strength he could muster he pushed harder on the locked blades, sending the second demon falling backwards and robbing its dagger of even more of its strength. Pushing the defending weapon to the side he allowed his short sword to slide in the opposite direction and, once there was nothing in its way, it dug into the inhuman flesh.

However just when he was about successfully inflict more than a foot of cut flesh his blade hit something that caused it to get knocked clear or the organic matter.

Armor probably, or something just as tough. He decided to move past the downed foe to attack the next one. Still, it'll take some time for Mister Robe to get back on his feet. Hopefully time enough for me to do a little more damage.

This next foe, though, had been given time enough to draw a weapon of his own, a sword, and from the looks of things knew how to use it beyond 'pointy end goes in the other guy'. Again he knew that there was no way that he could defeat a professional in a fight.

Thus the only course left open to him was to do something stupid.

Depending on whom you asked, it was his specialty.

With as much speed as he could muster he threw his short sword at the guy's body since tossing it at the demon's head would've been too easy to dodge. As soon as it left his hand, though, he pushed off the ground with his feet, knowing he'd have ONE chance to capitalize on what'd come next. If he failed then he'd probably die. If he only partially succeeded he'd leave himself open to the remaining unharmed demon. Only if he succeeded would the conflict finally be over and hopefully he could get old man Isaac some help.

Assuming he could convince an ambulance that it was safe to come there.

The plan? Play on the swordsman's instinctual reaction to immobilize it then get close enough that the very length of the weapon would make it more of a hindrance than anything else. Swords needed room to swing and time to build momentum. If he could get in close he could grab the sword arm, or at least counter the swings of the arm before they got very far.

Too bad he'd guessed wrong about what the demon would do when it saw a sword flying towards its body. He'd assumed that the demon would bat the airborne blade to the side before reassuming a proper stance, giving him an opening to get in close and grip the sword arm before it could return. Instead the demon merely positioned his weapon so that the incoming threat bounced off of it instead. As a result the weapon was not out of position and, with all his momentum focused on going forward, his options for surviving what'd almost certainly be coming next were few.

So he decided to let his inner Hollywood fan boy have a crack at it by both dropping into a knee slide while also limboing backwards as best he could.

Hey! It worked for his favorite action heroes so why not him?

As it turned out Lady Luck decided to give both a metaphorical kiss on the lips, as well as a bit of tongue, too, because not only did he evade the thrust that'd been aimed at his chest but also there was a side benefit. Apparently the demon that he'd only managed to partially cut open had pushed past the pain and recovered quicker than he'd expected and had been moving in to stab him from behind. However, thanks to his spontaneous desire to slide on his knees, the demon with the sword wound up impaling his ally instead, much to their mutual shock.

When he found his short sword was now within arm's reach he scooped it up and in one fluid motion thrust it into the demon swordsman, going into the stomach before the blade's angle of insertion guided it upwards into the other major organs, bypassing the rib cage. When the hilt guard touched the demon's stomach he stirred the blade around inside the unholy thing's body in order to maximize the damage to something important. It wasn't for long, probably only three seconds, but when he suddenly found himself supporting all of the demon's weight he knew it was dead. Pushing it off to the side so it didn't pin him down it hit the floor, its insides quickly flowing out beneath it.

Deciding that he didn't want to get too much of the stuff on him he quickly stood back up, gunk-covered short sword back up into what he hoped was a half-decent ready stance.

Letting his eyes scan the room quickly yet carefully, he noted that the first demon he'd killed was still dead, the second one was dead from a combination of his attack along with its ally's and the third was dead because its insides had been scrambled. That left only one demon still unharmed by his efforts but, from the looks of things, the creature was undecided about whether or not to attack. It made sense. He was a nobody who'd popped up out of nowhere and had managed to kill three of its comrades in virtually no time at all. That had to make the demon wonder if it should risk becoming the fourth corpse on the ground or if running away was the better move.

Schooling his face like some of the badass action heroes he'd seen in the movies, he looked the demon right in the eye and said the most intimidating thing he could think of at the moment.

"So… do you feel lucky, demon?" he asked, eyes narrowed and voice cold. "Lucky enough to risk your life? I am."

As if to emphasize this he raised the short sword into a position he just recalled Giles instructing Buffy to do and made it clear he was ready to finish things.

THAT did it.

The robed demon whirled towards the door and ran out of the antique store as swiftly as its feet could carry it into the night of Sunnydale. Still he waited, not letting the tough guy look leave him, until he was certain that the only conscious things in the room were him and old man Isaac. When he was convinced he finally relaxed, letting the sword drop to his side as he let out a sigh of relief that things hadn't continued. His body was making him all too aware of how his improvised moves had affected it and his mind was clearly pointing out just how close he came to dying.

"I don't know if I should be happy I won or if I should start worrying about the bad stuff that's probably coming to balance things out," he said, sheathing the short sword before turning to Mister Isaac, who by this time had managed to move his body into a sitting position. "Are you okay, Mister Isaac?"

"Well, I think that I shall have to miss out on the grand ball I was planning to attend," Mister Isaac replied, audibly in pain but still showing his usual dry wit. "Such a pity. I had my tuxedo cleaned and pressed."

"Look at it this way: the ball was probably going to be dull as hell anyway," he said with a small grin on his face. "Those things are full of stuffy upper class jerks who only know how to talk about three things: how rich they are, how important they are and how grateful you should be to be standing next to them. You're better off spending the evening at Alfredo's eating good food and watching some basketball."

"They do make some good food there but I think I will bring a book rather than watch what passes for a 'sport' in this country," Mister Isaac said, making it clear that his opinion of basketball was the same as Giles' opinion of the American education system and tea.

"How badly are you banged up?" he asked so he'd have something to tell the 911 people on the phone.

"Well, I do not think I am dying if that's what you are worried about," Mister Isaac replied before his face scrunched up in a grimace. "However I would venture to say that I am developing quite a few colorful bruises at the moment as well as some cracked bones. Not full fractures, mind you, but I dare say it would not take much effort to change that."

Not too bad then but enough that the old man would definitely need to be carried out on a stretcher with some mild to moderate pain medication.

"I'll call an ambulance and get them here ASAP," he said before moving towards the counter that the cash register sat on, since the phone was probably there too.

It took a few rings before the call got picked up but when it was he laid out the situation in a way that would be easiest for those not in the know to swallow: A couple of street toughs broke into old man Isaac's antique shop and tried to get the owner to open the safe in the back only for him to show up to scare them off. It took a bit more dancing around the truth as well as some assurances that the 'street toughs' had gone but eventually he was told that an ambulance was being dispatched and would be there shortly.

That left him with just a few things to do before they arrived.

"Don't suppose this place has a basement or a couple of people sized closets?" he asked looking at Isaac hopefully.

"It has a basement, the door to which should be just through there," Isaac replied pointing gingerly at the archway leading to a rear room of the shop. "Disposing of the bodies, I take it?"

"Let's just say that I don't think either one of us wants to play twenty questions with the Sunnydale P.D. if we don't have to," he replied as he went through the archway and swiftly located the door to the basement.

Once he opened it he quickly began dragging the demon bodies one at a time to the top of the basement stairs before throwing them down. As much as he'd prefer to take them down himself and find something big enough to hide them behind, he didn't want to assume too much where the ambulance's arrival time was concerned. As he did so, though, he made sure to take off and pocket anything that looked like it might show up in one of G-Man's books. One of the daggers, a couple of armor plates with unique looking symbols on them and some bits that could've been either jewelry or some kind of rank insignias. He hid his clues either in his pockets or beneath his clothing so no one'd spot them. Once all the demon bodies were in the basement he quickly went about cleaning up the mess on the floor as best he could with a mop and bucket he found. He knew he wouldn't be able to clean up everything but he hoped that if he cleaned up most of it the rest could be written off as stuff used to care for antiques that'd been knocked over in the struggling.

"There! It's not pretty but there's not enough crap on the floor now to make anyone look too closely," he said after he put the cleaning tools away. "Though you might want to throw away the mop and bucket later. Their insides weren't acid or anything but I doubt they're healthy to keep around even mixed with water and floor cleaner."

"I can replace both cheaply enough," Isaac said with your typical old man smile. "I recall that I have not said this once since you came to my rescue so I will say it now: thank you."

"You're welcome. You'd be surprised how many people after getting rescued around here just run off without saying those two simple words," he said, feeling a warm bit of satisfaction inside of him.

"I imagine the mind numbing terror and survival instincts are responsible for that," Mister Isaac said with a bit of a smirk. "In any case if that is new to you then permit me to add another novelty to this experience. There is a small box beneath the counter, you will recognize it by the ominous symbol of a winged human skull with a sun behind it, bring it to me."

Not seeing the harm he went behind the counter and checked the shelves beneath it, quickly finding the box in question. It was quite old looking and seemed to have been made by an expert craftsman who painstakingly carved the exterior with imagery that all centered on the symbol Isaac had told him to look out for. When he'd heard the description he'd thought the symbol would be more evil looking since skulls typically weren't cheery things and he didn't know a lot of good organizations that used them. This time, though, it looked more… 'noble' was the first word to come to mind, along with chivalrous, so he went with them. Picking the box up he brought it over to old man Isaac, who put it in his lap before opening it despite the pain flare ups from his bruises. The old man then reached in and took out something he held out with the obvious 'take it' intent.

What was taken out? A ring. Black exterior with a golden interior with a circle in the front that had what looked to be the top half of a knight wearing a cape resting its hands on a multifaceted white jewel in the circle's center. The cape looked to be what connected the circle to the rest of the ring and spikes that looked like crystal teeth were what secured both the knight as well as the jewel to the circle. There was a bit more fine carving but he couldn't quite make it out but that didn't matter. It was obviously a fine piece of metalwork and, if the jewel was of the valuable kind rather than something cheap, then it was definitely expensive.

"Go ahead. Try it on for size," Isaac said, sounding like he was interested in seeing how it'd look.

Personally thinking he'd have to decline the reward old man Isaac was offering, he didn't see the harm in trying it on just once just to see what it looked like on his right middle finger. Picking it up, he slid it onto his finger and was minimally surprised that it was an ideal fit, not being so small that it wouldn't go all the way on but not so large that it fall off at the drop of a hat. Clenching his right hand into a fist, he oriented it so he could see what the ring looked like this way and he had to say that, while not a Green Lantern ring, it was pretty cool looking.

Right up until the jewel flashed with an inner light and he heard what sounded like the sounds of some ghost gasping like it'd been resuscitated.

To him that screamed 'this ring is Hellmouthy' so he immediately tried to pull the ring off, with the intent of asking Isaac questions like 'what the fuck' before tossing the ring back at him.

Too bad the thing had apparently magically shrunk since he'd finished putting it on to the point where either it or his finger would need to be cut clean through to remove it.

"What the hell is this all about, Isaac?" he asked, only barely able to keep from yelling at the old man.

"What this is about, young man, is the repayment of a debt long owed," Isaac replied with a smile that was both grateful and yet sad at the same time. "Before you become too distraught I wasn't waiting for you specifically to come along. The ring, as you've no doubt surmised, is magical. To most people it's just an interesting piece of jewelry but for its destined owner it is something far greater as you will find out in due time."

"No offense, Mister Isaac, but if you knew anything about me you'd know that I like to spit in destiny's face before kneeing it in the groin and slamming its head into the nearest solid object," he said with hostility. "How do I get this thing off?"

"You cannot, or at least not by yourself," Isaac replied, not sounding threatened in the least. "That ring was placed into my care when I first opened this antique shop by a certain individual with directions to arrange for people who fit a certain criteria to 'try it on for size'. I was told that should the intended wearer put it on, the ring would secure itself there and be impossible to remove without the aid of the one who gave me the task."

"And who is that? Do you have a phone number or an address for them?" he asked, hoping to get as much info as possible on the person who'd set up him up with his new haunted bling.

"Sadly I do not have either piece of information. I presume that she believed that you would find her swiftly enough on your own," Isaac said with mild regret in his voice. "It is foolish, really, but when I spoke with her about who she intended to receive the ring I had the distinct impression she knew who would receive it, or at least knew of certain traits that the destined owner would have."

"What traits?" he asked, feeling frustrated at not getting more information.

"Why the very ones you exhibited when you chose to come to my aid instead of focusing on your own wellbeing, of course," Isaac replied with an amused smile. "In any case I believe I hear the ambulance approaching. I suspect that before long I shall be on such strong pain medication that my mind will be something of a haze for a few days. You will have to wait until then if you wish to continue this discussion."

Taking a moment to listen, he immediately picked up the familiar sounds of an ambulance's siren and, looking out the window of the antique store, he could see lights.

As much as he wanted to question the old man more and get more details on the female (couldn't be sure the she was human or not) that'd set him up to receive his new ring, it would have to wait. Those not in the know were about to show up so he had to play up the role of the Good Samaritan and feed the paramedics the answers they needed. Once he was clear of the ignorant he'd beat feet back to the library to tell the rest of the gang and hopefully figure out what the HELL he'd stumbled into. Robed demons beating the crap out of an antique store owner who may or may not know about the other side of Sunnydale, a ring that might be haunted as well as stuck on his finger and, unless he was mistaken, something called 'the light' being in town that the demons wanted.

Add it all up and you had one helluva week ahead of him.

Sunnydale High School Library

An Hour and a Half Later

Rupert Giles' POV

"GILES! We got problems!" Xander said as he came barging into the library looking like he'd come back from his patrol in quite the hurry.

"What's wrong, Xander?" Willow asked, looking up from where she was reviewing a text centered on various curative potions.

The smartest of his young charges had always expressed an interest in providing more support for the group other than researching and that had led to the casting of the curse on Angelus at the end of the previous year. While desperate times had convinced him that, despite its dark nature the curse had to be recast, he nevertheless had chosen to do what he could to steer her away from that sort of magic. Curses had one key component that all who cast them needed to have in order for it to affix itself properly to its target: hate. Curses were, after all, meant to cause death or suffering to their intended target and such states were not possible with more positive emotions or even some of the gray ones. However one could only brew up so much hate within themselves before it began to poison the soul and the images his mind conjured of the dark path Willow might go down always made him shudder.

Instead he had introduced her to a field of the arcane that was more akin to the science she was used to and that she would be hard pressed to harm herself with given what was available at the local 'magic shop': Potions. In many ways potion making was a great deal like the chemistry in that it used knowledge of the properties each ingredient possessed to combine them in desirable ways. True, as one unfortunate student in his potions class at the Watcher Academy found out, if one was not VERY careful the outcome could be rather dramatic, if not harmful. Still, with sufficient emphasis on care along with records of the more impressive failures, Willow had proven to be something of a potions' adept. It would still be a while before she progressed to the point where he'd feel safe letting her brew some of the more complex mixtures but it was a feasible possibility.

"Some demons tried to kill old man Isaac!" Xander replied, coming to a stop at the end of the main library table. "Managed to stop'em but I'm thinking it's research time, 'cause these guys were wearing matching outfits and they were looking for something called 'the light', whatever that is."

"Managed to stop them?!" Buffy exclaimed from where she'd been going through several swordsmanship exercises.

Just because her Slayer abilities had not fully returned there was no reason he could not continue her training. With a bit of luck he would be able to pound into her some of the more basic patterns, along with one or two complex disarming techniques. It was a sad fact, as proven by his armory bill, that Buffy tended to rely on brute strength to dispatch the various demons and vampires she crossed paths with. As a result the damage done to the swords she utilized tended to be significant and, while it did not result in the weapons being immediately thrown out, they rarely lasted more than a few months. If during this lull period he could teach her some finesse, some subtlety, it would go a long way to reducing the number of bills he had to pay.

Especially since he was no longer employed by the Council and thus would need to pay out of his own pocket until his replacement arrived.

He was not looking forward to that.

"Well, yeah, they were kicking the crap out of the old guy and if I'd taken the time to call in the cavalry he'd probably be dead," Xander said, defending his actions as best he could. "Besides it worked out, didn't it? I'm alive, not a scratch on me and three of the four of them are dead, plus old man Isaac is alive in the hospital. I'd call that a win!"

"YOU COULD'VE BEEN KILLED!" Willow and Buffy exclaimed with angry yet worried looks on their faces.

While he shared their concern his was far more moderated in nature than what the young ladies were no doubt feeling. He'd told Xander, told all of them, that until Buffy's powers returned to full potency the best course of action was to gather information and only act when they had superior numbers compared to the threat. While he applauded the commitment of his normal charges, he was all too aware of their shortcomings when it came to fighting the various breeds of demon that inhabited the Hellmouth. Most human demon hunters only lasted for a few years before they made the one enemy they should not have and were slain.

High school students only a few years into the struggle would fall much quicker if they were not careful.

"Yeah, well, that's an average night in Sunnydale, really," Xander said, a little hostility to his voice. "We're living on a mouth of hell, ladies. Not everything's gonna announce itself before it gets it kill on and not everything's gonna leave a mess for us to find. Basically we could die at pretty much anytime and anywhere. Besides, the day I let some demons kill an old man is the day I turn in my Scooby gang membership card."

"Perhaps it would be best if you explained what happened," he said, wanting to move things along to the potentially more important part. "If matters are truly as serious as you believe then time will almost certainly be of the essence."

Nodding, Xander proceeded to explain everything that'd happened from the moment he noticed something amiss in the antique store to the moment he began to make his way to the library. Mentally he was a little stunned at the good fortune the lad had experienced during his confrontation with the four robed figures but far be it for him to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. It was when the lad mentioned taking samples of the metal accessories and weapons belonging to the demons that his interest focused.

Xander began to retrieve his clues from the various pockets and hiding places and the first item had caused a ping of recognition to echo in his mind and by the time the last piece was set down on the table he knew all too well who the robed demons were.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as he took off his glasses and began to clean them while beginning to pace back and forth.

"What's up?" Xander asked with mild concern. "You look like someone told you that tea's illegal now."

"These items, the demons you fought, they all belong to the Order of the Black Dagger," he replied even as he fought to get his nerves under control. "Just as the Council and various other organizations have divisions tasked with locating objects with the potential to bring about the end of the world there exist evil counterpart divisions belonging to various dark organizations. However instead of seeking artifacts capable of ending the world these divisions seek out items capable of saving the world, or at least countering the efforts of those who wish to end it. The Order of the Black Dagger is one such division, though who they answer to remains a mystery even to the Council."

"So when the demon was asking Mister Isaac about 'the Light', it meant-" Xander said, proving his wits weren't entirely slow.

"That the antique store owner likely had in his possession one such item capable of foiling those who desire to bring about the end of the world," he said, completing the young man's train of thought. "As for what this 'light' might be I am afraid that we are at the mercy of the poor English of his attackers. There are countless items and magical artifacts with the word 'light' in the name and many of them have been lost to the ages. If we knew what form it took or even had some clues as to its nature it is possible I could find a spell that would lead us to it but with nothing… we would have to search the entire antique store top to bottom."

It was then though that he noticed a look on Xander's face that made him pause.

It was the look of a young man who thought he might know something but wasn't sure if he should step forward and reveal it.

"What do you know, Xander?" he asked, hoping that it was just the lad's teenage nerves or a misconception.

"Well, um, Isaac kinda figured I deserved a reward for helping me out so he gave me this ring," Xander replied, holding up his right hand to show the black ring with the jewel at the center. "The thing is… when I put it on it lit up and I could swear I heard a ghost gasping like it'd just come back to life… and now it won't come off."

"What do you mean it won't come off?" Willow asked, walking up to her best friend to get a closer look at the piece of jewelry.

"I mean I've pulled, I've tugged and I've done everything short of cutting off my finger or the ring and it's not budging," Xander replied, trying the things he mentioned (minus the cutting) as he spoke to show how firmly the ring was on his finger. "Old man Isaac said the lady that gave it to him might know but the ambulance showed up before he could say more."

"A lady gave it to him?" he asked, fishing for more information with which to deduce the importance of the ring.

"Yeah. Gave him a list of personality quirks to look out for and asked him to have anyone who matched them try the ring on," Xander replied, letting his right hand drop to his side. "If it lit up and the ghost gasp happened then it'd found its destined owner. If it didn't then I guess he figured out some way to get the ring back so he could give it to whoever came along next."

"Hmmmm… whoever this was it would seem that she possessed at least some skill in gaining glimpses into the future," he said as he considered this new information. "While in most cases destined inheritors of a magical artifact like a ring are linked by blood, there are a few historical cases where specific personality traits were the deciding factor. Even then finding a specific person on a planet with billions of people is no small task and only with considerable information about the future could someone know where to place a ring meant for a specific type of person. I suspect that the ring on your finger may have more importance than is readily perceivable."

"Really? It doesn't look like much to me," Buffy said, walking up to Xander before taking his right hand and giving removing the ring a Slayer's effort.

What happened next only further reinforced his belief that there was something more to the ring than was readily visible.

The moment that Buffy exerted some pressure and effort on the ring the clear jewel in the center lit up with an internal light and, without any visible warning, blue flames tinged with orange appeared. Recoiling from the flame he was shocked to see that even with only a second of contact Buffy's hand had been burned badly enough to turn black. Even as she took four steps away from Xander the flames vanished as though they'd never existed, revealing that while they might have harmed Buffy, nothing at all had been done to the young man's hand.

A defensive ward? he thought as he considered what he'd just witnessed.

It wasn't unheard of for wearers of mystical items to place spells upon them to prevent a foe from disarming them or stealing the item from them. Had it been intent that had caused the ward to trigger or physical pressure on the ring itself? Or was it something else entirely? He didn't know and this lack of knowledge could prove to be a threat to everyone present. While what he'd just witnessed did lend credence to the idea that it was indeed the ring that the members of the Order of the Black Dagger were after, they needed to know more if they were to refrain from coming to harm. Who made it? What was it made out of? What types of magic was it capable of? Most importantly though was determining what would trigger its defensive wards so they could all be sure to avoid doing so from here on out.

"What the hell?!" Buffy exclaimed even as she raised her eyes from her burnt hand to the ring that'd done the burning.

"Oh god! Buff' I'm sorry! I don't know what happened! I-" Xander exclaimed, shocked and sorry at what'd been done to his friend.

"It is likely that the ring has wards placed on it to prevent thievery," he said, stepping in before matters could escalate further. "Nevertheless it would seem prudent to attempt some manner of analysis on the ring if only to determine how much effort the Order of the Black Dagger will put into acquiring it."

"Aren't they just planning on destroying it?" Willow asked as she emerged from his office with the First Aid box.

"In most cases that is precisely what they do. However there are exceptions to every rule," he replied as he moved to the stairs that led to the bookshelves. "In some cases the holy artifact is impossible to destroy either because of the materials used in its construction or the magical energy infused into the item. In such cases they often try to place the artifact beyond the reach of anyone so as to prevent it from being used against the darkness. Some of the more… ambitious… members of the Order, however, attempt to corrupt the holy item and turn it into its complete opposite. Think of someone taking basic holy water and then, through corruption, making it so that the liquid actually heals or empowers a vampire."

Buffy, Xander and Willow looked at the ring on the young man's hand, no doubt imagining how the blue flames could be used by demons.

It would not be a pretty sight given how quickly it could inflict enough damage to turn the skin black. He was consoled by the fact that Buffy's returning Slayer powers would heal the damage swiftly and hopefully within a few days to a week there would be no sign that anything had happened. Still, some treatment using the usual methods of caring for severe burns would be best, if only to keep the recovery time to a minimum.

"For now, though, it would be best to identify the ring so we may gain a greater understanding of its properties as well as perhaps a method of safely removing it from Xander's finger," he said as he began pulling books off the shelves. "Gaining such knowledge will help us in deciding on a course of action while finding a way to remove it will also make it harder for the Order to find it."

"Um… are you sure there's no chance of them forgetting about it and going home?" Xander asked, sounding unenthused at the idea of being an organization's target. "I mean I killed three of them without getting a mark on me. The one that ran off would probably tell his bosses and convince them to try something else right?"

"Sadly the Order of the Black Dagger is filled with fanatics utterly dedicated to their cause," he replied, not wanting to scare the lad but believing the truth to be better than a lie. "In all likelihood the one that you allowed to escape will be tortured over the greater part of a month once it has conveyed all it knows of the encounter. Then they will likely assign twice the number of devotees to acquiring the ring, providing better armor as well as better weapons. Depending on how they view the ring they might even assign one of their more skilled members to ensure the mission's success."

Silence reigned in the library.

All three of the founding teenage members of their group were looking at him with fear and their jaws hanging loose in shock.

He might have gone a tad overboard with the honesty.

"That being said, however, the nearest conclave of the Order is in Texas if I'm not mistaken. Given that most demonic species despise technology in all its forms it is unlikely that the survivor will be able to convey his report over the telephone," he said, attempting to point out what silver lining there was to the situation. "When any manner of automobiles is thrown into the mix and we likely have at least a week before we can expect retaliation. That should prove sufficient time to devise a method of permanently putting an end to their efforts to acquire the ring."

"Such as?" Buffy asked after Willow finished bandaging their hand.

"Well… er… presuming that we can find a means of removing it from Xander's finger I could certainly contact the Council to have it placed in their care," he replied, putting forth whatever came to mind. "Or perhaps the Vatican would be an acceptable custodian for the artifact. Both are powerful and the Order has never shown itself to have the resolve needed to attack either organization directly."

"So basically get it off me and pass the buck to someone else." Xander said, summing up his proposals in a single sentence. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Just how powerful are these guys, Giles?" Willow asked looking at him with her usual hunger for information. "Are we talking a group big enough to take over L.A. if they wanted to or are we talking about less than a hundred members living out of caves or remote temples?"

"No, no, no! While the Order of the Black Dagger possesses formidable warriors and clerics, neither is numerous enough for them to seize a major American city. For one thing many more powerful groups have already staked claims on various parts of each major city and would retaliate should the Order attempt to claim everything for themselves," he replied, shaking his head at the ridiculous possibility the intelligent teenager offered. "As for the other option it is likely that there may be a few remote temples since the Order has been around for many centuries. In the last report I read it was estimated that the membership numbered an estimated twenty-two thousand worldwide."

"And the odds of them sending say… a hundred of them here to get the ring?" Xander asked, sounding like he might faint if the answer he received was not reassuring.

"Quite unlikely. If the Council had a branch office in town and it was known to house some of its more prominent members, including both Buffy and Faith, then perhaps a hundred of the Order's members might show up in a week," he replied with a shake of his head. "However with just our little group to contend with I would be surprised if they sent more than ten of their ranks to acquire the ring."

"I can deal with ten," Buffy said, sounding only a little worried. "A week should be just enough for me to get my Slayer mojo back and for my hand to heal up."

"Indeed," he said, putting down the books he'd selected on the table. "Now let us see if we can identify Xander's ring. These books contain information pertaining to most of the more noteworthy holy artifacts in the world. If we fail to find anything of relevance I do have a few non-Council sources I can call upon for assistance."

"All inside of a week?" Willow asked, sounding a little doubtful.

"It will require a measure of dedication but there are not too many books here that specifically focus on holy artifacts. Therefore I believe we will be able to finish searching through them fairly quickly," he replied, mentally coming up with a short list of those most likely to aid him while also possessing familiarity with the subject matter. "Once that is done then I can consult with my personal sources. By tapping so many different sources, we are sure to find something useful before the Order returns to claim the ring."

"I hope so, 'cause otherwise the only chance I'll have is to give the whole drifter lifestyle a try and keep moving about to stay clear of them." Xander was clearly trying to look like it wasn't a big thing but the effort never reached his eyes.

The young man knew all too well that if they could not devise a means by which they could ensure the Order's indefinite retreat from Sunnydale or could not separate him from the ring, Sunnydale would not be safe for him. Buffy would likely have her full Slayer powers back by the time the Order's next group arrived but even if she slew the ten he predicted the organization would deploy could simply lead to twenty being sent next time. As the number of enemy warriors increased, the odds of Buffy being able to defeat all of them, even with Faith's assistance, would only get worse.

Then there was the fact that his replacement from the Council was likely to arrive within the week as well.

He had little doubt that whomever Travers chose they would be a stickler for the rules, worshipped the ground the governing body walked on and wouldn't have a single thought in their heads to call their own. The Traditionalist faction that currently held governing power over the Council were somewhat obsessed with making all the big decisions themselves and did not like it when their pawns exercised some initiative when a choice in the field needed to be made. As such it was standard operating procedure for any decisions of a certain importance to be passed along to them by the usual means while the day-to-day choices were controlled indirectly via thorough training. Direct control via the phone or in person meetings and indirect control via conditioning applied during their instruction at the Academy.

No doubt when that replacement arrived and learned of the situation they would not hesitate to notify Travers of the development. After that the situation would proceed in one of two ways: either the head of the Council would order Xander's immediate relocation to London or would propose chopping off the finger the ring was on, sending just it to London for safe keeping. Travers and his lot had always been opposed to Buffy having any friends of any sort, believing that they would be distractions at best or exploitable weaknesses at worst. No doubt the replacement would be of a similar mind since that would be in keeping with the Traditionalists' point of view. Normally, when he had an opposing point of view with regards to the governing body of the Council, he would put together a well worded argument, gather what allies in the Council he had and then make his position known.

Now that he was no longer a member of the Council and the Giles family was not wealthy enough or connected enough to make matters difficult for the Traditionalists, he had nothing to use against them.

In the end separating the ring from Xander's finger without amputating said finger was the best way to resolve the situation favorably, so picking up the top most book he began to go through it.

He prayed that they would succeed before any hard choices would need to be made.

Two Days Later

After School

Library

Willow's POV

"Well, that's the last of them," she said, closing the last book Giles had set aside for their research. "Over a hundred holy items and none of them even look a little like your ring."

"Guess that means it's worthless, right?" Xander asked, looking a little reassured by the absence of identifying information. "I mean, if it was something important it'd be in the books somewhere."

"Not necessarily. These books are hardly the sum total of human knowledge with regards to holy artifacts, and even if they were, it is likely some artifacts exist that have never been recorded to paper," Giles said, sounding a little surprised at their lack of progress. "In most cases this is because they have never been found but in other cases they are deliberately kept out of written records for the sake of security. I find myself hoping that it is the former since it will cause the Order to be extra cautious since they will not know what it can do. If, however, it is the latter…"

"…Then I could have a magical weapon of mass destruction on my finger." Xander finished with the previous reassurance vanishing to be replaced by a grim expression. "Great. The old Harris luck shines through yet again."

"I doubt it is anything that serious. From your own description of your conversation with Mister Isaac, the previous guardian of the ring gave it to him with little in the way of additional protection measures beyond a box," Giles said, sounding as though he doubted the ring was that powerful. "If the ring truly had that sort of power yet had purposefully been kept secret then I doubt any rational person would let it out of their possession, much less leave it for some 'destined one' to claim."

"You're assuming she was sane to begin with," Xander snorted, obviously not having a favorable opinion of the ring's previous owner. "She coulda been some crazy person who gave the ring to old man Isaac because the voices in her head told her to."

"May I remind you that given what we deal with, the 'voices in her head' might very well be the voices of deities and that they might very well have been benign in nature," Giles pointed out, trying to forestall any irrational venting. "If this is indeed the case then it might very well have been for the better for it to find its way into your possession. Deities often have the ability to perceive future events and anticipate problems well in advance of the moment they actually occur. If the woman was indeed receiving instructions from gods and they were benign in nature, then it would be wise to assume that they had good reasons until evidence to the contrary appears."

"The only gods I know about, G-man, are the ones that ignore you or make your life a living hell for kicks," Xander said, standing up from his chair. "The sooner this ring is off my finger and made someone else's problem, the better."

She couldn't help but agree with her friend.

He was her best friend and, if the incident at the antique shop proved anything, it was that he stumbled upon trouble as much by luck as by desire. Now this wouldn't be so much of a concern if he had a good enough way to protect himself but he didn't. He wasn't a Slayer with inherent weapon knowledge and a superhuman body. He wasn't a Watcher with years of training and a wealth of knowledge in his head. He wasn't even like her: one of the smartest people in the school who was quickly catching up to Giles on the supernatural book smarts and might just be capable of using magic. All he really had was half remembered fragments from his soldier possession and an unwavering loyalty to those he called friend.

While that was all admirable, it wouldn't do much against the vampires and the demons that inhabited Sunnydale.

In each of the cases where Xander had thrown himself into a fight to help Buffy he'd come out of it either having been rescued by the blonde Slayer or with quite a few bruises. Without any super healing ability, the injuries were going to mount up eventually until her friend's body couldn't take anymore.

Then there was the pattern she'd managed to find when she'd gotten it into her head to record each threat that appeared on the Hellmouth and quantify it as best she could. Based on what she'd managed to find out either by being there to see the demon firsthand or what she'd managed to find in Giles' books, there was a definite pattern of escalation at work. The enemies of last year that they'd faced were stronger than those they'd fought Buffy's first year in Sunnydale. When taking into account those they'd faced thus far this year, she knew things were only going to get more dangerous as time went on. She'd shown her findings to Giles and, while impressed at her thoroughness, he had told her that this was not entirely unexpected. Any city or town more than fifty years old tended to have an established demonic community living below the proverbial radar. When new arrivals show up and begin to destroy the old status quo it was only natural that there would be some retaliation along with attempts to restore the old balance.

The Watcher, ex-Watcher, really, implied that eventually a new status quo would be established and the escalation rate would drop to something more manageable.

She wasn't sure if she believed that.

In her opinion things were only going to get more dangerous as time went on and eventually the threats that came their way would be so dangerous that Xander would only get himself killed trying to help from the front lines. She'd already spoken with Buffy about this and the Slayer agreed that something needed to be done to reduce the risk to Xander's life. The immediate solution they both came up with was to take him off the front lines and keep him in the library, where it was more or less safer. Research, errands and the like would be jobs that were safe enough for him while also letting him contribute something to the team. It was like the saying 'there are no small parts, only small actors' implied: just because it wasn't fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Slayer that didn't mean the safer jobs didn't matter. After all, she was mostly research and magic girl with, both not requiring that she put herself into the middle of a fray to see the battle won. Most of the time she stayed in the library and the few times she was in the field she stayed a respectable distance from the fighting before she employed her contribution.

The only down side was that, after examining their argument, she'd been able to spot a few places where Xander COULD call them out as hypocrites or outright ignore them.

That was why once this current crisis was dealt with the two of them planned on speaking with Giles, Oz and the rest of the gang without Xander to get them on board with the plan. It was their hope that if everyone else supported the idea of keeping him in the metaphorical office rather than on the front lines, he'd give in and accept his new position. It would take time but eventually he'd see that she and Buffy were right.

"Whatever the reasons the woman might have had for leaving the ring with Mister Isaac, with our local resources useless I shall have to contact my friends and acquaintances to see if they can help," Giles said, hoping like the rest of them that they had better results on that end. "I just hope it does not cost me too many galleons."

"Gallons? Why'd it cost you water to make a phone call, G-Man?" Xander asked, sounding confused whereas she felt curious.

"Telephones are not the only method of communication in the world, Xander, and for some of my acquaintances they do not even have a phone to begin with," Giles replied, seemingly internally debating what to tell them. "Some can only be contacted by magical means and suffice it to say that there are certain… bureaucratic hindrances… involved that require a fee be paid for a trans-Atlantic connection."

"You mean they've got their own government?" she asked, intrigued at the idea of there being a magical community big enough to require a government that would regulate magical communication.

"Yes, and I am afraid that I cannot divulge any more information on the subject," Giles replied before looking her right in the eyes to convey his seriousness. "The governments such as the one I am referring to have a law regarding the dissemination of information regarding them. Anyone who learns too much about them is usually located and then has their memories concerning the subject erased. I think we can all agree that it would be best to avoid that scenario."

"'Nuff said," Xander said, nodding in agreement.

She frowned at being denied the information she wanted but reluctantly agreed that they had enough on their plates as it was without magical men in black showing up to use their flashy thing on them.

"It will likely take some time to make a connection," Giles said as he walked towards the open door of his office. "Now might be a good time to get something to eat or do some schoolwork."

"Then I call munchy duty," Xander said, pouncing on the job immediately. "I'll swing by Tony's Pizza and grab a few boxes."

"Not without an escort you won't," she said before starting to walk over to the phone to call Buffy.

While the blonde Slayer wasn't completely back to full strength, her physical prowess as of that morning had officially passed the limits of what an ordinary human was capable of. With her sticking close to Xander they wouldn't have to worry about any agent of the Order getting their hands on him.

"Willow! The Order guys won't be back for another four days minimum," Xander said with defensive irritation. "Besides, its daytime now. I PROMISE I'll be back before the sun sets, okay?"

For a moment she considered her friend's counter argument and had to admit it was not completely without merit. It was indeed daylight outside and most demons were nocturnal in nature, or at least preferred to stick to dark places during the day. Both of them had managed to survive growing up in Sunnydale without getting killed while being ignorant of the truth skulking around them. As for the Order, she almost pointed out that Giles' guess of a week as just that, a guess, and the Order could pop back up days earlier for all they knew. Indeed, her worries had conjured up the scenario that Order reinforcements were in the next closest town and the demons would be back tonight. If the Order of the Black Dagger really was a group of fanatics dedicated to the destruction or corruption of holy artifacts then the Hellmouth was a good place to look. It seemed like every other week they wound up tripping over something magical and, while most of it was demonic, there was no reason to assume that there wouldn't be a good handful of holy relics here as well.

They'd probably be harder to find with all the hell energy the Hellmouth is putting out acting like a smokescreen but its not impossible, she thought, turning to face her best friend. If their scavenger hunt list is long enough, there could be a lot of them close by.

Unfortunately she knew that Xander would only say she was being paranoid so, with a sigh, she nodded in concession to his terms.

"And if you stumble across any other stores getting robbed, you'd better keep on walking, mister!" she yelled at him as he left the library.

A single hand wave of acknowledgement was all she got in response to her order.

It was times like this that she really wished her best friend had been born a dog so no one would think it odd that there was a leash around his neck.

The Streets of Sunnydale

Heading towards Tony's Pizza

Xander's POV

I can't believe I'm actually CONSIDERING going to the hospital to get my finger amputated and reattached! he thought as he navigated the sidewalks to the pizzeria. It would solve my problems but it's still creepy.

The fact of the matter was that with the books coming up empty on what the ring on his finger was, it was looking more and more like he had a date with maybe ten demon fanatics. Considering that the same number of armed human fanatics was a nightmare all its own, his imagination wasn't painting a pretty picture when the demonic variable was thrown into the equation. Even when he inserted the image of Buffy and Faith kicking ass, he couldn't quite shake the image that that might not be enough to save the day or, more precisely, him.

Most of the threats they'd beaten in the past hadn't been much better than a turf war between rival gangs. No military discipline, no complex strategies, just straightforward fighting, with only Angelus employing psychological warfare to its fullest. Even the Order of Taraka was only marginally better than the usual street riff-raff as, instead of fighting as a team, they each pulled the lone wolf routine. While it'd be nice if the demons the Black Dagger sent after him were like your typical vamp minions, direct and uncoordinated, if they employed even the least amount of strategy and worked in concert with one another the Scoobies would be hard pressed to prevail.

For all their loyalty to Buffy, their group consisted of high school students and a single Watcher; hardly a group of trained experts with years of experience fighting a guerilla war against the stuff of nightmares.

Maybe in time, if they put a little more effort into becoming a true team of warriors, they might be enough to hold their own against whatever the Black Dagger threw at them.

As they were now, though, they'd only last until either numbers or warriors of greater quality proved too much for them to overcome.

If things start getting hairy… I'll do what I have to do. he thought grimly even as the pizzeria came into view.

A short while later he was in front of the cashier, dishing out the toppings combinations that he knew the gang liked along with a two liter bottle of soda. Fortunately for him the owner of the pizzeria knew the Scoobies and had an inkling of what they did to keep Sunnydale safe, so they were allowed to drum up a tab so long as it was paid off at the end of each month. The rest of the gang knew this and pitched in when the tab came due so he wouldn't have to shoulder the entire bill alone, so it pretty much worked out for all parties.

As he turned around to leave and make his way back to the library, he came a cross a mildly pleasant surprise when he saw Faith coming in the pizzeria's door. From the ways he was rifling through her pockets it was obvious she planned on buying something but, since he was already here and putting something on the gang's tab, he decided to put an end to that.

"Hey, Faith!" he said loudly enough that she'd be able to hear him over the usual customer noise around them. "No need to pay up now. We can just add it to the Scooby gang tab."

"Don't need any charity, X," Faith said, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to completely remove the irritation. "I can pay my own way."

"Never said you couldn't. Just thought you might like to eat a bit more and spend the rest of the month rolling vamps for cash so you can pay your bit of the tab," he said, experiencing similar feelings when his financial status was brought to light by anyone. "More food, more time. Sounds like a good deal to me."

Faith mulled it over for a couple of minutes but, when she raised her eyes to him again, he could tell that she was willing to play along with the intent of paying up on time.

Three more pizza's heavy on the meat later and the both of them were walking back towards the high school, with Faith coming along mostly to pick up some gear before going out on patrol. Figuring she might be a little more ambitious with her slaying quota than Buffy was, he asked her if she'd seen any robed figures like the ones he'd killed roaming about. While he was still pinning his hopes on Giles' one week prediction proving to be accurate, he figured it'd be smart to keep sharp just in case.

"Nah, just the usual fangs and the horn heads," Faith replied, shaking her head. "Why? What's up?"

"You mean Giles and Buffy didn't fill you in?" he asked, a little surprised that the dark haired Slayer was clueless.

You'd think that with Buffy benched thanks to the lingering affects of the drugs that Giles would've brought Faith up to speed to fill in on the slayage and keep an eye out for surprises.

Apparently not judging from the look on Faith's face.

"No, they didn't tell me shit," Faith replied, sounding moderately annoyed. "What's going on?"

"Basically I pulled a good Samaritan when some robed demons were beating the crap out of the owner of that antique store over on Fourth Street. Turns out they belong to some demon club that likes to smash or turn evil any holy magic stuff they can find," he replied, keeping his explanation short and to the point. "As luck would have it I happen to have something they'd very much like to get their clawed hands on. Thing is I'm kinda attached to it, or it to me."

Holding up his right hand so she could see the damned thing, he took it as a good thing that she didn't immediately make any jokes at his expense.

"Wicked ring. How'd it get on there anyway?" she asked after getting a good look at the piece of jewelry.

"The store owner, Mister Isaac, wanted to give it to me as a reward for saving him," he replied, making a mental note to visit the hospital tomorrow to fish for some more info.

Even if old man Isaac claimed he didn't know anything more about the ring or the woman who gave it to him, that didn't mean it was necessarily true. Sure, Giles was contacting some magic people, but with five rough days before the Order showed up looking to hack off his hand to get the ring on a single finger, he had no problem following all the leads he could. Maybe he could dig through some of the old magazines they always kept at the hospital and have Isaac look through them for features similar or identical to those belonging to the woman who'd given him the ring. If necessary he'd cut out each individual feature and piece them together in a sort of collage before giving a nurse enough money to replace the magazines.

If he could piece together a picture of the woman, that would definitely give Giles more to go on than just the ring.

Throw in a patchwork of clothing from the same magazines and maybe they'd be able to narrow down where she was from helping the search for helpful info even more.

"Well, if it's put a bulls eye on your back, you should just chuck it or at least get it out of Sunnydale," Faith said, sounding like she was of the same mindset as him when it came to the blasted thing.

"Wish I could but it won't come off," he said, glaring at the annoying piece of jewelry. "Buffy tried to yank it off and the thing burned her with some kind of magic fire."

"Pretty hot bling then," she said with a bit of a smirk.

"Hot enough to turn your skin black if you're not careful," he pointed out, wanting to make the danger clear. "Don't know why I didn't get burned too but I guess I can just write it off as magic."

"Freaky. So these demon guys are gunning for ya?" she asked rhetorically since he'd already told her. "You sure it's safe for you to be out here now?"

"It's daylight and G-man doesn't think they'll be back four another five days minimum," he replied, half rolling his eyes at the same old concern being sent his way. "Besides now I got a badass Slayer walking escort with me, so I'm as safe as I'm gonna be in Sunnydale."

"Careful, though. My rates for guarding bodies can be pretty steep," she said, obviously implying the alternative services provided by some lady escorts.

Used to the dark haired Slayer's mind going into the gutter when it came to her sense of humor, he just smiled in appreciation of her taking the word 'escort' and having some fun with it.

"Hey, I'm good for it!" he said with a bit of humor. "And if my bank account runs dry I can always work off the debt some way."

"Careful you don't write checks your body can't cash, X," she said with a saucy look but that he knew was just her messing with him.

If there was one thing he'd come to know about Faith pretty early on was that the girl had issues, even if he didn't know what all of them were. Sure, she came on strong as the sexy and wild girl with some seriously thick skin, but he could see that it was at least half a self-defense measure. He did the same sort of thing kinda when it came to goofing off and trying to make people laugh. He did it because he didn't want his friends to know about his home life with Tony and his mother, or for those who already had a pretty good idea he didn't want them to think it bothered him all that much. The truth of the matter was that it always hurt a little whenever he saw what a proper family looked like and the times he spent over at the homes of his friends, he sometimes pretended that they were his family too.

He suspected that it was the same thing with Faith with him being in the dark because the teenage girl didn't want to think about the bad parts of her life or get the 'pity look' from others. As much as others thought that learning more and helping was a good thing too, few failed to take into consideration how painful and at times traumatic talking about those things were. Much like the majority of the people in Sunnydale repressing the truth and finding something more comfortable to think about was a crucial coping mechanism for him.

Basically, until she did something out of character that indicated she wanted to talk about it or was serious about doing… THAT, he'd assume she was just messing with him for yuks.

"I dunno… might just surprise ya," he said, waggling his eyebrows to let her know he was joking.

"Might just have to take you up on that someday, X," she said with a bit of good humor before easing back into a more casual mood.

His mind took a brief hop into the gutter at those words; he was your average teenage male after all, but pulled himself out of it when he realized it probably wouldn't ever happen.

Maybe it's better this way, he thought remembering how things had gone with Cordy. My luck with women hasn't exactly been stellar the last couple of years.

Ampata, Praying Mantis Lady and the whole love spell mess.

Then, of course, there was that whole mistake with Willow in the basement of Spike's warehouse lair that destroyed what could've been the best thing to ever happen to him.

He wasn't ready to give up on finding Miss Right but he did acknowledge that it might take more time than he realized to find a girl willing to get serious with him.

Hopefully I'll find her before I start going bald.