Put Out My Flames With Gasoline, a buffy: the vampire slayer fanfic

Disclaimer: Joss, WB, UPN et al. own Buffy and its spin offs. I do not. Remedy & 3D Realms own Max Payne, which the title is influenced by (kind of)

Title: Put out my Flames with Gasoline.

Author: Paradigm Shifter

Rating: R, I suppose.

Pairing: Buffy/Xander, Willow/Tara (a bit), Angel/Cordelia.

Feedback: Please. I want more feedback! Come on, Mark of Kayn got bugger all reviews the first time I posted it! Xander the Jedi had over 25 from 1 chapter!

Notes: Buffy and Xander go to LA following some clues. Oh, 'petrol' is the British name for 'gas', if you didn't know. If you did know, forget I mentioned it. The comment on corruption is just a STORY. As far as I know, all of them were upright, devout men. If this confuses you, you'll understand when you reach the point.

Continuity: Makes little sense if you haven't read Mark of Kayn, Guilt and Betrayal, and Hopes and Dreams. Please do.

As Buffy and Xander made their down the stairs, followed at a distance by Spike, who was nursing a healing jaw, the assembled group downstairs shot to their feet.

Everyone spoke at once.

"Oh my God! Xander, are you OK?" Cordelia blurted.

"Xander. Good to see you again, and in one piece." Angel, stoic as ever.

"If you ever do something that stupid again, I swear…"

"Thanks, G-Man, I love you too." Xander grinned crazily and Giles snorted half in amusement and half in disgust.

"That was very dangerous. You should know better by now!" Wesley started to reprimand him.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Xander, as he hadn't really seen or paid attention to Wesley since the Faith incident with Trick, and he had changed a lot.

"You know very well who I am, I am Wesley Windham-Pryce. Your tactics and attitude in the Krystos engagement were foolhardy and…"

Xander cut him off. "I see junior still has a stick up his ass, eh G-Man?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Technically, he is neither my super ordinate or subordinate, since we were both fired. And don't call me G-Man."

"Whatever you say, Rupe." Grinned Xander.

Giles looked hard at him for a minute, and then walked off to the kitchen muttering, "Which one is worse?" under his breath.

As Wesley looked set to continue his tirade again, Angel cut him off. "Did you get Krystos?"

Xander shook his head. "No. He took off down the sewers as the building was collapsing. I was too hurt to find him."

"We'll get him eventually, Xander." Said Buffy, wrapping an arm round his waist.

"Yeah, Buff, I know. It doesn't stop me from being angry he escaped though."

Angel and Cordelia followed Giles into the kitchen, indicating Wesley should follow their example. Showing a surprising amount of tact, Spike did likewise.

Buffy sat Xander down on the sofa.

"Xand… you can't blame this all on yourself you know." Said Buffy. "It's not your fault."

Xander sighed. "I know, Buff, but I…" Xander stopped with a choking sound.

Buffy sat down and leaning into him hugged him tightly. "Xander. Tell me. Please? I wont turn you away…"

Xander sighed a collected himself. "I should have done more, Buff. I should have killed him before you got there, or before I had to…" Xander stopped, aware that Buffy did not have the faintest idea of what he had done to get inside Krystos' guard.

"What did you do?" Buffy was in full inquisitor mode now.

"I… after you left, Krystos got the sword. In order to stop him from escaping, I… I…" Xander trailed off again.

"Goddamn it, Xander!" Buffy felt like slapping him. "What did you do?"

"I stepped into his lunge. The sword of Kayn went right through me. In my stomach and out my back."

Buffy gasped in shock.

"It hurt like… well… like nothing I want to feel again. But I healed…" Xander's voice was rising in volume. "And I still couldn't get the bastard!" as Xander finished the sentence, his voice was a shout, causing the kitchen occupants to come out expecting trouble.

"Is everything alright?" Giles appeared worried at Xander's shout that alerted the house, and probably most of the street as well.

Xander turned and fixed the group with a stare. "Fine. No problems here, not a one…" spinning on his heel again, Xander headed toward the front door. Buffy, concerned over what was going on in his head, gripped his arm and tried to stop him, but it was like trying to halt a glacier, slowly, Xander reached the door.

"Xander, where are you going?" Buffy's voice betrayed her worry at Xander's attitude.

"Out, Buff. I thought that might be pretty obvious. I need some air." With that, Xander shook his arm free of the Slayers grip, and pulled open the door. Stepping out onto the porch, he slammed the door behind him, leaving a shocked and surprised group standing in Joyce's house.

The assassin stepped into the directors board meeting. He had been summoned. His glance took in the senior partners and the surrounding environment, looking for weak spots or traps. He did so automatically, it was in his best interests to do so, after all, he could be sent on a 'hit' to this building next week.

The far end of the conference room had two chairs placed side by side. On was occupied, the other was not. The occupant of the left chair was a small man, weasel-ish in his way, but exuded an aura of power.

He stood. "Ahh… Mr. Smith. I am so glad you could come at such short notice."

Smith stood impassive. "I didn't want to. I was ordered."

The man's features blurred and his voice came loud and angry. "Just so long as you obey, MR. SMITH."

Not much phased Smith; after all, being an assassin, especially one used by supernatural agencies was not a job that allowed the person in it to be overly squeamish or easily frightened. But the voice that had just spoken shook him to his core.

Still, he did not let it show.

Even if you are scared, if your opponent knows it, he can use it against you.

Smith nodded at the man. The director sat, somewhat mollified.

"Good." His features returned to the original unblurred ones.

"Now," he continued, "I believe introductions are in order. I am Mr. Hart. I founded this company, with my partner, Mr. Wolfram," he waved at the empty chair, "nearly 200 years ago. I regret that due to unforeseen difficulties, Mr. Wolfram cannot be with us anymore."

Smith spoke. "What happened?"

Hart looked angry at the interruption, but answered the question. "A new vampire in town, Angel, took a dislike to us. Mr. Wolfram had the unfortunate fate of being here when he visited. Mr. Wolfram is now dust on the wind."

Smith smiled. It was not what could be technically described as a smile, however, as it held no humour and a lot of malevolent evil.

Hart continued. "We wish to hire you, to remove this irritating upstart." He clicked a button, and the screen behind him, covering the wall, flickered to life. A picture of Angel was displayed. "And his friends…" the picture of Angel shrunk, and others joined it. Now the screen displayed Angel, Cordelia, Gunn, and Fred. As a fifth picture flickered up, Smith growled.

"Pryce…"

Hart nearly looked surprised, but covered it well. "Indeed, Wesley Windham-Pryce. Ex-Watcher; now rogue demon hunter. I believe you know him from your time working in the Watchers Council."

Smith's eyes narrowed. "I still work for the Council. I got a secure communication this morning from an unknown source in the Watchers that I was to report here. I did."

Hart could not conceal his surprise this time. "The council?" he muttered. "What do those scheming bastards want now?"

Smith spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. "So, you want that lot killed? Shouldn't be too bad… 200 million. Half by this evening, the rest on delivery of heads or ashes…"

"Done." Hart smiled. Barely a week's profit would be lost in this venture. Very few people had any idea how much money Wolfram and Hart made in a week, let alone a year.

Smith smiled evilly and turned to walk out. "They will be dead within the month…" floated back to Hart. Smith continued under his breath. "And that Prick Pryce will be first…"

Xander marched through the nearest graveyard. His mind was far from on where he was. He was too angry with himself and Krystos. He had failed to notice the followers he had picked up, a few of which, despite being dead, had to jog to keep from falling behind at the pace he was setting.

He did, however, here the screams of two women in the graveyard as he turned a corner. One sounded distinctly like Willow. He ran toward the sound, causing the vampires following him to sprint to catch him.

Xander rounded a mausoleum and gasped. Willow and her friend, Tara, were back to back in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by nearly twenty vamps. As he watched, Willow raised her hand, pointing at one of the vamps and shouted "Arsum!" The vamp exploded into flame, and was quickly dust. Tara did likewise, shouting "Ignis!" as a vamp got too close for comfort.

Realising that the tide was definitely turned against the two witches, Xander charged the nearest set of vamps.

Willow watched stunned as the unknown body barrelled into five of the vamps that had surrounded them. The suicidal idiot got trapped in the tangle of arms and legs, caught within a potentially lethal situation.

Suddenly, a hand shot out from the back of one of the vampires, clutching a heart in its hand. The vamp that had his heart removed burst into dust.

Another vamp screamed as a leg wrapped around its lower back and a hand appeared around his throat. Willow winced as his head was forced back, snapping his spine with an audible crack not a lethal wound to a vamp, but one that would take a long time to heal. Turning back to her fight as she felt a hand on her arm, she saw a vamp leering at her, and pressed her hand on his chest, muttering, "Arsum!" again. She backed off as the vamp that had been holding her burst into flames.

Xander was berating himself still even as he fought in the middle of the tangle of vampires.

Clever. Real clever. Go out so fast you forget to take a stake! Are you trying to get yourself killed?

Three vampires remained in the scuffle. One decided to get in a little chewing practice, and found himself being propelled across the battleground to smack right into a headstone. The remaining two found the person they were grappling with had suddenly become encased in black armour. Armour they recognised. The one Xander had the least grip on decided that discretion was the better part of valour and rolled to his feet, quickly putting as much distance between himself and the Avatar as humanly, or inhumanly, possible. The caught vampire joined his demon friends in hell as the Avatar ripped his heart out.

Xander rose to his feet, only to be taken down again by sheer volume of numbers. The vampires that had been following him chose to help their comrades at that moment, and smothered him.

Losing himself in the rage, Xander tore into the vampires, no longer caring if he was hurt or if Willow and Tara were OK, only wanting to kill. In that moment, Kayn's essence flowed quickly through the Avatars veins. In no time at all, the vampires were all nothing more than a defiled grave and bad memories.

A hand was laid gently on Xander's shoulder. He spun violently and caught the person's throat in a tight one-handed grip.

Willow walked over to where Xander stood, wanting to thank him for saving her and Tara. With his inhuman speed, Xander's hand tightened on her throat, so quickly that she did not even have time to draw a breath, let alone make a sound. Tara just squeaked at the sudden move, and then stuttered out, "x…x…Xander… its w…Willow… p…put her d…d…d…down…"

Xander stood, encased in the Avatars armour, his fist closed around Willow's throat, trying to make the urge to kill go away. Then he heard Tara's timid voice cut through the haze.

"x…x…Xander… its w…Willow… p…put her d…d…d…down…"

Reality came crashing back in, and the rage abated. He dropped Willow, who had been slowly turning blue, and turned away, running as fast as he could.

Xander ran through Sunnydale, tears streaming down his face behind the helms mask. The same thought ran through his mind again and again. Oh my God. I nearly killed Willow! His mind assaulted him with images of what other previous Avatars had done to those who just happened to get between them and their targets. I nearly killed Willow! I'm too dangerous as the Avatar… I'm a liability to everyone, and most of all Buffy. I could never forgive myself if something was to happen to her…I've got to leave…

That thought pulled him up short. Where would he go? What would he do? With the Avatar harbouring inside him, any job would be too dangerous as he could go off at a workmate if the stress got too much.

Then it came to him. He would have to go to LA. Even if Angel was there, if Xander didn't want to be found, in that place, no one would be able to find him. Not even Angel.

He returned to his house as fast as he could and gathered the few possessions he would need, and the money for a bus ticket. He would not have to take the sword of Kayn. If he needed it, it would come almost as fast as unsheathing it.

Willow and Tara made it to Buffy's house with no more trouble. Tara had been buzzing about Willow all the time they were travelling, making sure she was OK and could breath. She had never seen someone turn that colour before and still be alive afterwards.

Well, OK, she had never seen anyone turn that colour before, ever.

They knocked on the door to Buffy's house, to be greeted by a very troubled Slayer. Buffy was beside herself after Xander left, she wanted to go out and find him, but Giles and common sense ended that idea. He had pointed out that if Xander didn't want to be talked too, there was nothing she could do while he was the Avatar, and, judging by his state when he left, he was most certainly tearing the vampire population of Sunnydale to pieces. When Willow knocked on the door, Buffy thought it may be Xander returning, and nearly attacked Angel, who tried to stop her from answering the door.

When Willow stood there, with Tara standing meekly next to her, Buffy wasn't sure what to do. Tara and Joyce guided Willow to the couch while Giles interrogated the two as to what had happened.

As Tara calmed down and began to stutter less, Giles and the others got a reasonably accurate idea of what had occurred. Willow and Tara had been coming to see Buffy, when they had been attacked by a large group of vampires, apparently 'recruiting' for numbers. When Xander had bowled into the fight, it was quickly over and they made their way to Buffy.

"But it was weird," rasped out Willow, throat still sore, "he totally lost it. He couldn't distinguish friend from foe. After all the vampires were killed, he… he…" Willow choked off.

"What?" asked Giles; completely unaware of the sort of answer he was to receive from Tara.

"He grabbed Willow by the throat. Nearly killed her before he let go after I was able to get through to him." She said it quietly but firmly, allowing no room for argument from her friend.

The sounds of shock from the assembled group in the room continued for several minutes until Giles recovered himself and asked for quiet.

Wesley spoke, "I told you he was dangerous!" he was answered only by murderous looks from Buffy, Willow and Cordelia and a raised eyebrow from Giles and Angel. Spike sniggered. "Never knew he had it in him…"

The greyhound [A/N: are there greyhounds in Ca? Excuse my ignorance, I don't live in America…] bus pounded along the road. The miles it put between one of its passengers and Sunnydale was making him breath easier, but not by much. Xander sat huddled in the seat he had bought, wishing he had had enough money for a few more Twinkies, as all the ones he had bought had already been eaten.

The apparently young woman on the side of the bus opposite him watched the sullen young man carefully. She had seen many years of world-weariness and self-loathing in her job and her marriage, but the young man sitting there, all huddled in on himself, looking for all the world as if he had the weight of all the worlds worries on his shoulders.

Getting up, she decided to do something about it. She sat down on the seat next to Xander, wondering how to start the conversation. Ah, well, the old ways are the best.

"Hello." She said, with a slight southern twang.

"Goodbye." Came back the sullen response.

She sighed. "I'm Marie. Where are you headed?" she knew better than to ask his name, because she would never get it.

"What do you care?" came the voice again.

"Just tryin' to be friendly, sugar." Marie winced slightly as her automatic honorific slotted back into her words. Getting the kid to think I want to rape him is not the best way to get him out of his shell. She cursed quietly to herself.

"Don't try." The voice held the tone that said the discussion was over, but Marie refused to let him brush her off.

"Look kid. I'll tell ya straight. I'm ah shrink. If y'all want to talk or anything, I'm here. Well, at least until we get to LA anyway."

"You getting off there?" Xander swore at himself as he foolishly extended the conversation.

"No. I'm continuing on. But I know you are, sugar."

Xander sat up at that. "How?" he asked forcefully.

Whoops. Thought Marie. Didn't want to do that… "Saw it on your ticket, sugar. You were in front of meh in the queue for boarding."

Xander deflated slightly. Not everyone was out to get him, even if he thought they were. "Oh."

Marie dug in her purse for a card. "Here, sugar. This is my business card. Keep it. Call me if you need to talk. OK?"

"Thanks." Despite the kindness this woman had shown him, he was not really up for a chat, and so turned away again. Marie sighed, but her good deed for the day was done, so returned to her seat.

As she sat down, the man sitting behind her pulled out a silenced pistol and pumped two rounds into her back through the chair. He then leaned over and draped her blanket over her, concealing the blood flowing from her back. The sub-sonic rounds had not exited her chest but still hit her heart, leaving no forward recognisable signs of a shooting.

Xander saw none of this, turned away as he was, and in the middle of another waking dream.

~Flashback~

The pyre burned.

As the last of the Knights Templar, Jacques Molay, was burnt at the stake, the Avatar watched on with cold detachment.

He was not here for the Templar Knights, or those humans who foolishly ended one of the greatest forces of good in those times. True, they had been a bit corrupt, but even the current Pope was more corrupt than them, and they were much more pious than he could ever be, having to guard his position from opponents constantly. The King of France, Louis the something-or-other, his human host had never been very good at history or monarchies, had ordered them exterminated as Enemies of God. As most priests and lay people were more likely to follow Templar orders than ones direct from Rome itself, the Pope felt threatened by their power. He concurred, after a healthy 'present' from France.

No, Kayn had sent his Avatar here to eradicate the most powerful vampire currently in Europe.

The mistress of King Louis. Who, conveniently happened to be the one of the Popes mistresses as well. Corruption was rampant, and the Papal guard would assure that no one learnt of the 'indiscretions' by their master.

The vampire bitch that had sent the Templar's against Kayn in the first place, then when they were of no further use, disposed of them. With Kayn trapped and imprisoned in an unknown location, the Avatar knew it was only so long before he was driven mad by the dreams and took his own life.

The only way an Avatar could die, short of Kayn deserting him. The Templar's had thought him beaten, but he was only damaged. He would die once he killed the Vampire.

Once the fire had burned low, King Louis left the site, and headed toward his castle and her pleasures. The Avatar followed at a discreet distance.

~End Flashback~

Xander snapped alert at the horn sounding from the bus, announcing that they were in LA. Looking over to Marie, he noticed her fast asleep, and decided not to wake her, the noise of the bus too loud to allow him to hear, or not hear, as the case may be, her lack of a heartbeat.

As he stepped off of the bus, Xander took a deep breath of the stale polluted air and sighed. He would have to keep a low profile so the Angel Investigations crew didn't find him. Xander walked away to find a hotel, and possibly a job. Unless he made a living by robbing vampires when he dusted them. He smiled thinly at the thought, but it wasn't really humorous.

The assassin stepped off the bus after Xander. Her ex-husband did say to kill anyone who she talked to. This'll be a piece of cake. Jim Robbins didn't have any idea what he was getting himself into…

Xander found some low rent accommodation in the 'darker' parts of LA. Initially, the landlord didn't want to know, but Xander 'persuaded' him otherwise.

Xander hammered on the door.

"I hear you have some rooms available!" he shouted to the house.

"Go away!" was the only response.

"Come on, man! I have nowhere else to go!" For once, the desperation plea worked, and the door creaked open a crack. A beady eye looked out through the gap. Then recoiled at what it saw.

"No humans!" the door slammed shut in Xander's face.

"It's the only place I can find! Please?" Xander was beginning to get angry at the demons stubborn refusal.

"No humans! Fuck off!" the door remained steadfastly closed.

Putting his pack carefully on the floor, Xander stepped back slightly. He felt the gentle tickle as the Avatars armour slid over him, and sealed. He pounded once more.

"Come on! Open up!"

The landlord tore the door open suddenly, and he had three 'bouncer' demons behind him. "Not too bright are yo…" he started, and then caught sight of the Avatar standing there. He snarled and backed off, thinking it a trick, and allowing the bouncer demons forward.

The first raised its club and swung. The two foot long piece of solid bog oak splintered pitifully as it was blocked by Xander's left arm, while his right shot out and tore the demon off his feet. He landed with a heavy thud and the crack of broken bones in the middle of the dark road.

The second had one club in each hand. Xander leaned forward and gripped the door handle as the creature charged, and slammed the unyielding door onto the things arm. It howled in pain and withdrew; the other locked the door as Xander had drawn it shut. He could hear laughter coming from the other side of the door.

"Gonna let me in or not?"

"We tole ya befor' humie! Fuck orf!" one of the bouncers stopped laughing long enough to make this apparently hilarious comment.

"Fine…" Xander stepped toward the door and landed a solid kick to the old wood, splintering it off its hinges and making it fly inward, crushing the two bouncers who had been standing behind it against the opposite wall.

The landlord cowered in the corner, afraid of what would happen next.

Xander's Avatar armour slid away again. He collected his bag, and stepped into the building.

"Homey…" Xander smiled, but not really with amusement.

"Hey!" he aimed a kick at the landlord, but it was only gentle. "Are you gonna give me a room or what then?"

The landlord looked up at the half-hearted kick, and a worried smile graced his face as he realised Xander wasn't going to kill him. He stood shakily.

"Sure, hu… I mean, kid. Here ya go…" he leaned across a counter and pulled a key off of a hook. "Room 211. Second floor, you'll like the view…" he slipped back into sales banter.

Xander looked guiltily at the door. "What do I owe you for damages?"

The landlord's eyes goggled. This was new. "You want to pay for the damage, kid?"

"Sure."

He gulped, and remembered what had happened to his three best bouncers as he looked over at the groaning pile. "The room will be $50 a week, kid. But the doors' on me… just don't do it again?"

Xander nodded. "OK." He started up the stairs.

"Hey, kid?" the landlord asked, "if ya can't find a job, would ya want ta be a bouncer?"

Xander smiled again, no amusement present in it. "Maybe…" he headed up the stairs to room 211.

The landlord turned hurriedly, and headed into his office. When he found a pen and a bit of paper, he hastily scribbled on it:

To all residents:

The human occupant of room 211 is to be left alone.

If you do not heed this warning, on your own heads be it.

He is the Avatar.

Management.

He went to photocopy the notice and made enough to stick one in every room. Except the humans. No sense in unnecessary violence…

Angel said the words none of the Sunnydale crew wanted to here at that minute. "We need to head back." With that, he signalled to Cordelia and Wesley, and exited the house, headed for his car. The two others Sunnydale members of the Angel Investigation team followed him, Cordelia looking apologetically at Giles.

They were back in LA by sun up.

Willow, Tara, Buffy Giles and for some unknown reason Spike, were sitting in Buffy's from room. Her mother had said she had a headache and retired to bed.

Willow spoke first. "Tara and I succeeded in cursing Krystos with a soul…"

Giles head snapped up. "What?"

Willow repeated. "We cursed him…"

Giles head sunk into his hands. "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked quietly.

Tara was quietly indignant. "Willow and I got attacked. Then Xander went all postal on us… when were we supposed to tell you?"

"You could have phoned." Pointed out Spike, sipping from a tumbler of blood.

"We did. But the phone gave an engaged signal! We decided to come over."

Buffy looked over to the phone. The handset had been knocked slightly out of position, making the line think it was in use. She pulled a face and leaned over to reseat it. "Oops…"

Spike chuckled. "Well, now that bastard Krystos is gonna be easy pickin's eh luv? With a soul, he won't be able to fight back…"

Buffy looked half thankful and half troubled. "Yeah. But if he's half as good at hiding as Angel seemed to be when he was cursed, he isn't half gonna be hard to find."

"So?" rejoined Spike, "what do we do?" It was a rhetorical question.

Giles answered for Buffy. "Patrol."

Xander lay in his hotel room, exhausted. As the landlord had said he would, he loved the view. Yeah, the garbage heap and sewage recycling plant was just what he had wanted in his luxury condo. That was another thing- the room had been an absolute tip. The previous occupant hadn't been very careful about where he slept, and obviously hadn't got the hang of en suite plumbing. The place reeked!

His earlier attempt to get a job had been a total bust- places were perfectly happy with him until they found out where he was staying, at which point they discreetly ended the interview as quickly as possible. Xander didn't really want to work as a bouncer. He didn't think he was cut out for it.

The other tenants had been very pleasant to him, overall. The bouncers that lived in had been hostile, after all, he had beaten them up, but they didn't want to get their teeth handed to them a second time. Even the large hulking demons had been very polite. Well, maybe polite wasn't the word. They nodded at him as he passed, the smaller ones even moving out of his way in a narrow space, they removed themselves from his presence as quickly as possible. It was almost funny.

Xander sighed, grabbed his jacket and walked out his door, nodding to the chaos demon that handily moved sideways to allow him past.

He stepped out of the building and headed in the direction of the nearest bar…

Buffy was panicked. Not an ordinary panic either.

Xander was missing.

He hadn't come back from his walk that he had attacked Willow in, and he had left a note at his apartment. She held it in her hand now. It read:

Buffy.

I love you.

Buffy picked up the phone and dialled Angel Investigations. Why, she didn't know, she just felt that she had better tell them

~Hello, Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless.~

"Hi, Wesley? Buffy. Look, I'd thought I'd better phone, Xander's gone missing."

~Really? Are you sure?~

Buffy growled down the phone. "Yes. I'm sure! Can I talk to Angel?"

~I'm afraid he isn't in at the moment. Something about checking with some of his contacts.~

"Oh."

~I can take a message.~

"OK. Just tell him to look out for Xander. OK?"

~Certainly… Hang on. He just walked through the door. I'll fill him in…~ The phone clicked and went silent as Wesley turned on mute.

"Angel? Buffy said Xander's gone missing."

Angel looked puzzled. "You know, I just saw someone who looked exactly like Xander walking in the demon zone."

"Really? What on earth is a human doing there?"

"I don't know. Let me talk to Buffy…"

~Hey, Buffy?~

"Angel, thank god… Xander's…"

~…missing. I know. I was just told by Wesley.~

"Oh?" Buffy was taken aback.

~I don't know if I should tell you this, Buffy, but I just saw someone like Xander in the demon zone. No human ever sets foot in that part of LA. Not even the drifters, junkies or runaways. They know better.~

"Xander's in LA? I'm coming to get him!"

Angel hurriedly spoke down the phone, urgency in his voice. ~Buffy. Stay where you are. Try to get Krystos. I'll see if I can find Xander. If he's staying in the demon zone, he probably isn't playing with a full deck…~

"What?" Buffy calmed down a bit. "Alright. OK… I'll wait to hear from you again… in the mean time, I'll get Krystos."

~OK. Buffy, bye.~

Mr. Smith stood in the middle of La Caritas, surveying his handiwork. He sighed, almost happily. A symphony in coordination.

The place was rigged. Lorne sat in the middle, just to Smith's left, trussed like a pig to his chair. The place would go a mile high when the explosives blew. Nearly 20 kilos of C4, packed, placed and ready to blow… on delayed time motion sensors after Smith had activated them with his little remote. Petroleum covered the floor; two small thermoses of liquid oxygen were hidden behind the bar, to make sure that when the fire started, it wouldn't run out of oxygen until every single thing in the bar was gone.

Smith drew his knife. Walking over to Lorne, he made a lengthy cut on the forehead, and a smaller one on the neck. Dropping the knife by the demon soothsayer, he slugged him full in the face, watching, as the demons eye was quickly lost in the swelling. He peeled off the bloody surgical gloves and threw them on the floor.

Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his driving gloves, he walked out the back entrance, pressing the remote activator as he went.

Xander sat in one of the bigger demon bars in LA. Like his hotel, the bar hadn't been overly happy to let him in at first, but when he found out that the door was enchanted to stop unwanted people from entering, he merely kicked down a wall to enter instead.

He was now sitting in the far corner of the bar, aware that Angel probably would have heard through the demon grapevine that someone had just busted his way into 'Hell or Heav'n'. When, after an hour, Angel didn't show, Xander relaxed slightly and ordered a drink.

So, he sat there, with a quadruple whiskey in front of him, knowing full well that the Avatars healing abilities wouldn't allow him to get drunk, no matter how much he had to drink. Staring morosely into his glass of whiskey, Xander wished he could stop the moaning of a drunk demon who was bemoaning the fact that his human girlfriend had chucked him out when he turned all purple and spiky in the middle of 'one of the greatest orgasms of his life'.

Xander waited until the drunk turned his bleary eyes toward him, and gave him a look that said, quite clearly, "shut the fuck up." Weaving slightly, the drunk approached.

"Oh… look what we 'ave 'ere 'en…" he landed heavily in the chair across from Xander. "Anuvver fuckin' humie!" the drunk seemed pleased at his powers of observation. "W't ya doin' inna dem'n ba… bar, eh, humie? Come f'ra bi' 'o desig'er darknes…sss… eh?"

"Go. Away." Xander tone was cold, and betrayed the violence that would follow if the demon didn't follow orders.

The drunk wove to his feet, and adopted a sloppy boxing pose. The rest of the bar ground to a halt, to watch the match. "Com' on… I'llll t'ke ya with bot' 'ands be'ind me back… so I will…"

Xander sighed, and downed the rest of his glass.

Holding the glass in front of the demons face, he said, "see this?"

The demon looked down at it carefully; maybe it would attack him or something. "Ye'h…"

Xander put the glass between his hands and brought them together. The glass shattered, spraying the area surrounding him and the demon with shards. He opened his hands, and no cuts were there.

The demon looked at him. "Wh't ar' y'?"

"Every demon's worst nightmare…" he leaned forward to whisper in the ear of the demon drunkard. "The Avatar of Kayn…"

The drunk's eyes widened and he recoiled so fast he fell over. Scrambling to his feet, he was out the door before Xander had sat down again. The barman headed over with another quadruple whiskey.

"That was a bit cruel." He sounded reproachful.

Xander just looked at him, then asked, "How much for the whiskey?"

The barman smiled, if a maw full of needle teeth being exposed could be called a smile. "Nothing. He was driving us all nuts. 'His girlfriend' this and 'his girlfriend' that… Jeez… I think maybe 'his girlfriend' was just his hand…"

"Thanks."

"But… you know… he wouldn't have started on you if he'd been sober…" he winked, "I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to start a fight with the Avatar of Kayn…" he started to walk off.

Xander sat there for a second, then called over to him. "Hey, you know what I am?"

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, kid. Everyone does round here. It ain't survival of the fittest. Its survival of those in the know!"

Great. Thought Xander. Angel'll be able to find me just by asking…

Wesley stood at the doorway of Angel Investigations. He was pulling on his jacket. "I'm just going to go see Lorne. Shouldn't be too long."

"Need any backup?" asked Gunn, pointedly hefting a large shotgun.

"No, it'll be fine…" Wesley exited via the lift.

Mr. Smith smiled. Wesley would be the first after all…

Xander got a sense of approaching trouble before it arrived. He looked to the bartender, and raised an eyebrow, to nod his head at the rear exit. When he received a shrug, he slugged back his drink and made a hasty exit, stage right.

His back disappeared round the corner of the passageway just as Angel appeared in the hole in the front wall.

Angel stared at the hole in the wall. What the hell happened here? He wondered. Knowing full well he would get few if any answers from the demons in the bar, he didn't bother to enter. Demons stayed alive by keeping their mouths shut, and unlike Willy in Sunnydale, the barman didn't look the type you could push around. Making a note of the address, Angel left, to return to the Hyperion.

Even with the protection and anti-violence ward Lorne had had placed over La Caritas, the place was more still than usual. Wesley pushed open the door, to see Lorne tied to a chair, the worse for wear, and gagged. He was frantically shaking his head, trying to make eye contact with Wesley.

Wesley rushed over to unbind and de-gag him. As soon as he pulled the gag down out of Lorne's mouth, the demon pulled a face.

"Too late… never mind." He sounded defeated, which is exactly what he was.

"What do you mean?" Wesley looked about, to see a timer…

…With one second left. He shut his eyes. "Dear God…"

La Caritas had just served its last customer…

The remaining Angel Investigations crew heard the explosion, and saw the pillar of fire that the conflagration created. Xander saw the pillar of fire, and was nearly deafened by the roar of the fire, he was only a block away and his Avatar enhanced hearing amplified it further. He, like every person in the immediate vicinity was knocked flat on his back by the concussion blast that swept out from ground zero. Jim Robbins, the would-be assassin heard the blast, and was stunned by the fireworks display that brightened the sky. Even Marie, who was stalking her 'murderer' saw the display, but was too far away to hear it properly.

Mr. Smith smiled at the firestorm that rose in to the sky. One down…

"Mr. Hart, sir, the first of the targets had been eliminated."

"Good," replied Hart, "Who was it?"

"Windham-Pryce, sir."

Hart smiled.

"Sir?" The lackey cowered.

"What?" Hart snapped. He was pleased, and pleased happened all too infrequently since Angel arrived on the scene in LA.

"We have a… situation… you might say, sir."

Hart sighed. There was always a situation. "What is it this time?" Why did all subordinates have to be so stupid? He answered his own question. Because if they were clever they wouldn't be lackeys…

"Well, sir, Mr. Harris has arrived. Alone. And his mental state does not seem to be quite stable. The Avatar's memories have started to wear at his sanity. He doubts himself and his ability to protect his friends. More specifically, Buffy Summers…"

"The Slayer?" cut in Hart.

"Yes sir. The two… seem to be… involved… sir."

"A Slayer… and an Avatar… romantically involved? Are you sane?"

The lackey cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. I am, sir… I have a certificate to prove it…"

Hart smirked at the man's seriousness. "Well?"

"What do you wish us to do about Harris, sir? He could become a danger…"

Hart pondered this. "Yes. He could. But… wouldn't it be delicious to use his… love… against him? If the Slayer loves him, she will inevitably follow him. We will capture her… and use her as bait."

The lackey nodded, but looked unhappy about having to capture a Slayer. And doing it to piss off an Avatar seemed like suicide to him. But… orders were orders…

Over the two weeks since Xander had left, Buffy had been working on overdrive to find Krystos. It seemed she wanted to put him through the meat grinder, so to speak. Giles had been research guy for five days straight, barely taking enough time for two hours sleep a night. Willow and Tara had kept to themselves, for the most part, saying that they were trying to turn Amy back into a human. The chipped Spike used every opportunity to hit on Buffy, but always backed off as soon as Xander was mentioned. Buffy couldn't decide if it was out of fear or respect.

She eventually found Krystos out of pure luck. She had covered most of the cemeteries in Sunnydale, and had decided to head home; sure the night was a bust. As she past Rosebowe cemetery, she heard someone crying. Not just crying. Bawling his eyes out.

It was Krystos. Miracle of miracles.

Buffy crept up on him. The Master vampire never heard her. But Buffy couldn't resist a final quip. "Happy now?" she asked.

Krystos whipped round to face her, anger in his eyes, which quickly dissolved into agony as his eyes settled on hers.

"I can't deal with this pain… kill me!" he begged Buffy on his knees.

Buffy was taken aback. No vamp ever begged for death. "Why? Angel dealt with it."

Krystos looked confused for a second. "Who's Angel?"

Buffy sighed. "Angelus… the Scourge of Europe? You know?"

Light shined as realisation dawned.

"Oh. So that's what happened."

"Do you want to die?" asked Buffy. Not that I'll give you much choice…

"Yes! But… first… Wolfram and Hart shipped me here. Promised me a Slayer, and instead I got an Avatar without his demon master. Formidable, able to think rather than just obey…"

Buffy was lost as Krystos reminisced.

"Hart had three of those daggers. Only one was the original. He kept that."

"What daggers?" Buffy asked cluelessly, not connecting the events.

"The Dagger of Retribution. Although I doubt many people know it by that name…"

"Oh. Faith's dagger…" Buffy realised.

"Possibly." Krystos nodded. "There is more behind this than most would think possible. Wolfram and Hart have many agenda's. This is but one. Be wary. Others work from behind them as well. People who have more than a passing interest in Slayers…"

Buffy stood with stake limp in her grasp.

Krystos looked at the stake. "Are you going to use that? Or may I have it?"

Buffy held out her hand, still slightly unsure of what was going to happen. Krystos took the stake, and reversed it, thrusting it between his ribs, right into his heart. As his vampire body dissolved into dust, he mouthed one final phrase at the Slayer.

"Thank you…"

The stake fell to the floor as the 3000-year-old master vampire burst into dust.

"You killed me!"

Jim Robbins froze at the voice that echoed through the alley. He had been stalking that kid his target had been talking to since he arrived at LA, but was close to giving up. The few places he had managed to find a trail, people had been objectionable and rude. They weren't necessarily qualities that he had a problem with, after all, he was both, but the small time assassin was taken aback at the sheer malevolence that they displayed. Then the voice sounded.

Not turning round, he called out, "Who's there?"

Silence responded.

He turned slowly, drawing his pistol as he turned. Nothing moved. A bag of garbage fell over on its pile, tumbling to the floor.

Jumping at the sudden movement, he pumped a round into the bag. The only result was a rat chittering angrily at him as it scampered off in fright.

The voice came again. "You killed me! And now your going after the boy I helped! Wasn't killing me enough for my miserable ex?"

Jim nearly fainted in fright as the woman he had been ordered, and paid very well, to kill walked out of the shadows in front of him. Her hair was drawn back and floated about as if a wind was causing it to lift.

There was no wind that night.

"What… what are you?" his words faltered in his throat.

Marie looked amused. "I suppose Andrew didn't tell you? No… he wouldn't, would he? I'm a sorceress."

Jim's eyes widened. "A witch?" he gulped.

Marie's eyes flared with internal light. "NO!" she snapped, "I was born with the Gift, I did not fumble my way through the rituals as other have done, and yet more will do! I have seen more in my existence than you have ever seen in your pitiful life!"

Jim started to back off. If he could get out of the alley, he stood a chance. Marie noticed his edging backwards.

"Where do you think you are going?" Her voice reverberated through the brickwork, seemingly making the ground tremble with the question.

Jim Robbins stopped edging. "Err…"

"STAY! I ahm not finished with you yet." Her accent started to slip in again, as anger played through her mind.

Marie stepped toward the almost murderer. Lowering her mouth to his ear, she whispered, "I don't usually kill humans, but for you… I'll make an exception."

Then Angel stepped in…

The stake drove into Marie's back, puncturing her lung, but missing her heart by a fraction of an inch. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. She fell to the floor as Angel pulled Jim Robbins into the street.

"Stay here!" he said, "Try not to get into any more trouble!"

Jim nodded in shock.

Angel turned back to the alley. Marie stepped out, anger written plainly on her features.

"Vampire…" she hissed as Angel closed.

"No, just a concerned citizen." Angel needed to stop any talk that might freak out the rescued man, if he heard, anyway.

"You cannot fool me, Angelus…" Angel's face took on a priceless expression as the apparently 20 something used his evil name. "…I am a Sorceress… that… assassin… will die soon enough anyway. If he is stupid enough to follow someone into the demon zone, he deserves death."

"Why were you trying to feed on him then?" Angel was getting confused.

"I was not feeding, I AM NOT A VAMPIRE!"

"Could have fooled me."

Marie snorted with contempt. "I do not have time for this…"

Angel grinned. "Pity. I do."

"Ah… but can you do this?" Making a complex motion with her hands, Marie's eyes became cloudy, but otherwise remained the same. Angel's eyes widened as his feet left the ground and he was pinned, none too gently on the wall, about twenty feet up. Marie walked to the entrance of the alley. Robbins had gone.

Marie stalked back into the alley. Angel watched with fear in his eyes. "He has gone! This is your fault, vampire! My murderer has escaped! Well done! And now he will be hunting for that boy again!"

"What boy?" Angel had now totally lost the plot. It was something to do with being twenty feet in the air, with nothing really holding him up, directly above some very old looking wooden crates, which, if he landed wrong, would likely stake him.

Marie just looked at him.

Angel tried again. "What does he look like?"

"Why do you care?"

"Never answer a question with another question." Angel gulped as Marie let him drop a few feet before returning him to his original place.

"Not funny."

Angel nodded violently. "OK…"

Marie looked speculatively at Angel. "You run a detective agency do you not?"

Angel looked nervous. "Err… yeah. Look how do you kn…argh!" He cut off again as Marie let him fall to mere inches from the crates before floating him back.

"OK… You can help. Look for him. If you find him, ask about for me. I'll find you."

Angel nodded in terrified agreement. "What does he look like?"

Marie looked thoughtful. "About six feet, brown hair, couldn't see his eyes, nineteen or twenty. To much guilt for someone so young. He was running from something. Possibly the Hellmouth."

Angel indicated understanding. "OK. Let me down?"

Marie moved he hand and Angel thudded into the opposite wall, and then fell to the floor. At least he didn't land on the crates. As Angel recovered, he heard the patter of footsteps retreating, signalling the exit of the Sorceress.

Odd… thought Angel. That description sounds almost like Xander…

Wandering down the street returning to his hotel, Xander speculated on what could have caused the explosion he saw. It was near what he knew to be the Hyperion Hotel, where Angel worked, but was far enough away from his rough estimate of the place to assure him that it had not been the Hyperion that had joined the sky.

Entering to his hotel, Xander got ready to run again.

The Powers looked at one another.

One said: He could be the one…

The other replied: Only if he defeats his enemies without becoming one.

The first indicated agreement. He has come dangerously close to that already.

The other pondered the statement for a short time. We must watch carefully…

After the death of Wesley, the Angel Investigations gang were hard pressed to keep up with all the dealings Wolfram and Hart set up. It seemed they were purposefully trying to tire out the group. None of them had any time for sorrow, as all their lives depended on them being ready at the drop of a hat.

All dealt with their grief in different ways. Angel survived with his typical brooding in dark corners. Cordelia buried herself in work and research, after all someone had to do it now, and the only other person with the background was Angel. He did what he could, but was more important on the streets. Gunn spent all his time either training or beating the living daylights out of whatever demon decided to end the world that week. Fred, already highly strung, and easily upset was a bag of nerves for several days, until the first real problem came along and they needed everyone's help.

Angel hated to admit it, but they needed the Scooby gangs help. Within six hours of him placing the call to Sunnydale, the gang were there. With Krystos' death, by his own hands, and the subsequent falling out of his lieutenants in his private vampire army, had taken its toll on Sunnydale's vampire population, and Giles deemed it possible to leave them to their own devices for a while. Willow and Tara had successfully found a counter spell for Amy's 'rat'ification [A/N: ha ha], and the three had formed a witches trinity. With three witches working together, few of Sunnydale's night stalkers could survive. They remained behind, to keep tabs on what the vampires were doing. This meant the almost the whole Sunnydale crew were in LA to help the 'Fang Gang' to do multiple things: Find Xander, Find this 'Sorceress' and stop Wolfram and Hart.

It all came to a head when they found Xander, lying in a gutter after having been thoroughly beaten by Hart's 'enforcers'. They had found out where he had been staying, and used files that the Initiative had forwarded to their overseer to figure out his weaknesses. A few quick lightning spells had rendered Xander unable to do anything.

He was recovering relatively quickly, all the while with Buffy straining at the bit to tear Hart a new one.

As far as anyone in the group could tell, the Sorceress that Angel had encountered had disappeared, no one could find a trace of her, and Xander wasn't telling a soul about his talk with her. They would just have to deal with her when the rest of the business was over.

The war between Wolfram and Hart and Angel Investigations continued. Then Hart, in one of his 'masterful' tactical decisions, made a gaping error:

He kidnapped Buffy…

Now Hart had Buffy, it meant war…

While before, Xander had been out for revenge, now, to Xander, it wasn't just revenge, it was personal…

Buffy sat on the lounge seat of Hart's office, on the 42nd floor of the Hart foundation building. Hart himself was seated behind his desk, watching her with detached interest.

Buffy was livid, but refrained from doing anything because of the six big, tall, and above all, ugly demons standing around the office. They were a breed Buffy had never encountered before, each standing seven feet tall with pale blue chitinous skin, and all built like a brick shithouse. When she had initially tried something, they moved like Linford Christie on speed to stop her.

Buffy was livid because of what Hart had dressed her in. A small string bikini that would probably be considered illegal to wear in some of the more 'old fashioned' states. The bikini consisted of barely enough material to keep her decent, and it didn't help that the demon bodyguards kept leering at her. When they had restrained her, one had taken the advantage and copped a feel, and not a slight feel either. Buffy shuddered thinking about where the bastard had touched. When she figured out which one it was, that demon would be the first to die.

Hart continued his evaluation of her. Buffy felt like a piece of meat, or a prize steer taken to market.

"What?" she snapped irritably. "Don't like what you see?" She folded her arms underneath her breasts, causing them to ride up in the small fabric triangles of the bikini.

Hart looked insulted. "You're not my type. I don't go for peroxide blondes. Especially not Slayers. Now, brunettes, that's a different matter…"

Buffy glared angrily at him. She could prove that her hair wasn't dyed, but she wasn't about to show Hart that area. No way.

"Why did you get me to dress like this then?" she asked, anger at Hart seeping into her words.

"I prefer women who have nowhere to hide anything. Makes me feel so much safer…" the intercom on his desk buzzed. Hart hit a button on the front and nodded at the mumbles. Buffy's sensitive Slayer hearing couldn't make out what was said.

Suddenly Hart stood. "I am terribly sorry my dear, but I must go to a meeting with your boyfriend. He appears to be heading toward the rendezvous we arranged, and he followed all the rules. Quite incredible for a bloodthirsty maniac."

"Xander's not like that!"

"Oh? Give it time, my dear. I'm sure that when he sees your burnt corpse he will go quite mad, let me assure you." Hart smiled and left, ordering the demons to "Guard her!"

Xander powered down the main road near the Hart foundation building, one of the two possible prisons for Buffy. He would have used the Avatars powers to 'jump' himself about, but the blinding rage he felt was making it impossible to concentrate, and that made 'jumping' in populated areas extremely dangerous. He could materialise with a limb inside someone's body. While he would probably be fine, the idea of innocents dying was not one Xander wanted to entertain.

So, he roared down the road, on Angel's personal motorcycle, at nearly 120mph. Angel had not been best impressed when Xander had roared out of the Angel Investigations garage on his bike, but had managed to extract a sort of promise to return the bike as Xander zoomed past.

As he neared the rendezvous on a small side road that Harts cronies had 'arranged' Xander slowed. While it was unlikely that Hart would keep his word and bring Buffy, he did not want to risk her. Caution was the watchword.

The limousine that was heading toward Xander pulled up with a squeal of brakes. Out stepped Hart.

"Have you brought her?" Xander broke the silence.

"Brought her? My dear boy, you must be delusional. I never said anything about bringing your little Slayer. No, no. She is quite safe where she is."

"Your little messenger said you would bring her." Stated Xander flatly.

"Yes, he did, didn't he? Well, let us just say that I don't like having my messengers sent back to me in FedEx packages."

"That wasn't me." Xander's face told the lie to that.

"Really? I must talk to my seers about better event scrying, mustn't I?" Hart sounded almost amused.

"I've had enough of this. Where is Buffy?"

"Indeed. This is getting rather boring isn't it?" Hart inclined his head. "MR. SMITH! GENTLEDEMONS!"

Hart's enforcers congealed out of the shadows round the buildings, and Xander noticed some movement on a rooftop. It was a blond haired man, peering through the scope of a Barrett M82A1 'Light Fifty' rifle. Xander was almost certain it wouldn't do anything, but didn't really want to risk finding out, after all, it would still hurt even if it didn't kill him.

Xander felt the uncomfortable tickle of a laser sight painted on his forehead. That was not standard equipment.

Hart smiled. "I am afraid I must cut our meeting short, Mr. Harris. Shall I give your final farewell to your beautiful girlfriend? I do so hate long goodbyes, don't you?"

Xander snarled.

"Well, it wont matter much, because you and Buffy will be meeting again very soon…" Hart grinned. "…In the afterlife."

Hart retreated to the Limo, which was manoeuvring to turn round, while Hart's enforcers gave Xander the good news. As Xander eyed the approaching demons, he heard the deafening report of a half-inch diameter projectile speeding toward his head…

Knowing her couldn't dodge a bullet travelling at that speed, Xander just had to hope that it wasn't going to kill him. As the bullet connected with his head, Xander was forced back by the sheer power behind the round. Feeling the tingle of damage being repaired, Xander wondered how a sniper round had succeeded in hurting him where almost everything else failed.

He didn't have time to worry about that now, as Hart's enforcers had closed in. one stepped between Xander and Smith just as Smith fired his second round. As he had been aiming at a downed target, Smiths bullet passed right through the demons groin, being followed by a spray of blood, think and… blue? The demon in question went down screaming in agony.

As a kick from an enforcer sent Xander rolling down the road, he freed the Avatar. The black armour flowed along his body, sealing Xander in. With the next kick, Xander used the momentum gained to roll to his feet. The sword materialised at the slightest whim of the Avatar, shocking the enforcers enough to make them fall back slightly.

Rage and pain rolled through Xander like a tidal wave, transforming him for a short time into Death incarnate, but in cooler armour. The enforcers never knew what hit them.

Xander looked up from the slaughter to see the limo sitting in the distance watching. Smiling, Xander ran over to the motorcycle and started it up. The sword vanished. The armour remained.

The rear wheel of the bike skidded crazily as Xander twisted the throttle, then he was off, after the Hart limo.

Hart's limo fishtailed as it went round a corner at 90mph. The recovery time was enough to allow Xander to catch up that little bit more. Leaning into the curve, Xander took the bike round at 120, with sparks flying from the knee of his armour. Several corners later, Xander was but yards from the rear bumper of the limo.

Suddenly, the limo braked hard, and swerved to the left, causing Xander to overshoot, just after he had clipped the wing of the limo. The resulting loss of control spun Xander and the bike into a wall, where the bike burst into flames and exploded, spraying debris all over the road.

Oh, man. Angel is not going to be happy when I tell him I destroyed his bike…

Xander crawled away from the wreckage, in time to see another biker pull up.

"Hey man, you alright?"

Xander nodded weakly. "Can I borrow your bike?"

The biker shook his head. "No, man. Not after what happened to that one. That was a soft tail deuce. You don't just chew one of them up and walk away."

Xander glanced over to see the limo disappearing round a bend. "Look, I don't have time to argue. Get off the bike!"

"No way."

Xander nodded. "Fine." Gripping the biker by the jacket, he pulled him off the bike and punched him in the balls. "I told you nicely. I don't have time to fuck about." As the biker collapsed to the floor squealing in agony, the last words he heard from Xander as he pulled away on the bike were, "Sorry, can't be helped!"

After another ten miles or so of tearing round LA with Xander close behind, the limo pulled into a petrol station. Discharging a small demon into the middle of the pump area, the limo quickly drove off again as Xander approached.

The station forecourt was dark. The station was obviously shut, and Xander approached cautiously, as something didn't ring true. The demon decoy would take the Avatar all of about ten seconds to take apart, and that didn't justify Harts stopping.

As Xander approached, the demon smiled. "Hello, Xander…"

Buffy stood at the window of Hart's 42nd storey office and looked out of it. The room was dark; she had turned off the lights, as she didn't want anyone who randomly looked up to see a bikinied blonde standing at the window. As she turned away to sit down again, Hart walked in the door.

"I think that went rather well…" He seemed to be pleased with himself.

"What did you do?" Buffy was ready to attack him.

"Gave Mr. Harris an ultimatum of sorts. And a promise."

"What promise?"

"That he would see you soon, but… it seems so much more fun to do it this way…"

The demon smiled. "Hello, Xander…"

Xander stopped twenty feet from the demon. "How do you know my name?"

"Wolfram and Hart know many things, Xander. But, unfortunately, for you at any rate, they have decided you are more of a hindrance than help. In that respect, they are going to remove you…"

The demon pulled his hands out of his pockets. In his left, gripped tightly, was another Faith's dagger.

How many of those things are there? Wondered Xander. "Where did you get that?" he said aloud. The demon ignored him.

In the demons right, he held a grenade, with the pin removed. Xander did a double take.

Shit! A grenade!

The demon smiled evilly, but he couldn't really smile any other way. "This station has just been filled with fresh gas, Xander."

"Where's Buffy?"

"She is safe for now. She won't be too much longer however."

Xander felt the pain and guilt of failure tearing him again. As it got the better of him, the armour slowly slipped from him.

The demon cut into Xander's thoughts. "It's a one second fuse…"

Xander looked on as the demon dropped the grenade and phased out of the station, disappearing into thin air. As Xander dived for the grenade, the same two words echoed in his mind. "One second… One second…"

In mid air, Xander closed his eyes as the grenade detonated.

The explosion caught him full in the face…

Buffy stood looking out of the window of the Hart foundation main office. The nearby gas station had just blown up, and strangely, it was almost pretty, but still horrifically ugly at the same time, to watch the ignited fumes billow and then finally slow as the whole area of land erupted. The underground storage tanks had caught, emptying sufficiently for the flame to travel down the vapour and ignite inside. As the gases caught in the tank, they expanded, causing the land to erupt.

"What was that?" she asked Hart, who had not left her side after his return from the 'meeting'.

"That was the only remaining obstacle in our scheme going up in smoke." he replied.

Buffy stood mute, working it out. "Obstacle? Oh my god! Xander!"

"I am afraid even an Avatar couldn't withstand that, my dear. He is now quite dead."

Buffy collapsed on the floor crying, trying to make Hart believe that her anguish was real, after all, Xander had survived worse with Kayn and Krystos. As a doubt crept into her mind, she no longer had to act sorrowful.

There was almost no doubt about it.

Xander was dead.

"Argh!" screamed Xander as he worked his way out of the blazing inferno, encased in the armour of Kayn once more. "I'm gonna kill those fuckers! Use their guts for Christmas decorations!"

Struggling through the wreckage, he finally made it out of the blazing inferno of fuel.

The rage refused to leave, the armour refused to retreat. The sword of Kayn appeared in his hand, all the way from the Master's crypt in Sunnydale.

"That fucking hurt!" he shouted for all of LA to hear.

Quieter, he continued, "I survived your little game Hart! And I want my girlfriend back! This promise I make: where ever you run, I'll be there! Where ever you hide, I'll turn it into a wasteland!"

Stalking off toward the Hart foundation building in the rising imposingly in the distance, Xander destroyed anything that got in his way, the anger allowing only the most primitive of signals through to his body from his mind.

Streets away, a Porsche driver honked him as he stalked along the road. Xander raised the blade and changed direction, heading toward the car. The driver crunched gears as he hastily slipped the car into reverse and tore off backwards, spinning the car crazily when he ran into another car coming across the junction.

Xander, satisfied that the guy had been taught a lesson, turned and continued toward the Hart building.

The Powers looked at one another.

He has become unstable… said one.

Yes… we must be careful. Replied the other.

Should we test him?

The other nodded. Possibly.

The emergency alarm in the Hart building screamed its news. The building was flooded with red emergency lighting as the generator was destroyed.

Buffy smiled behind tears as she thought, "Xander's coming…" she never realised that the thought had been spoken out loud.

Hart's sickly smile as she looked at him told her that he had had the same thought.

"I must leave!" he announced suddenly. "It appears that I must use the fall back plan." He sighed. "I liked this building, but never mind."

He stalked out of the door of his office, giving a final order to Buffy's demon guards.

"Kill her! Then come with me."

Xander strode through the red-lit corridors of the Hart foundation. An elevator pinged as he passed and the doors opened to disgorge four demons. One swing decapitated them all.

"This is taking too long…" murmured Xander to himself.

Buffy had managed to get out of Hart's office, and was now being pursued down the corridors by Hart's six private guards. Even Slayers had to understand the idea of a tactical retreat.

She succeeded in getting down to the 33rd floor before the guards caught her.

Xander gripped the steel rope tightly. Cutting underneath his hand gently, he screamed in exhilaration as the lift plummeted down, and he roared upwards.

As he neared the door on the 33rd floor, they opened, forced by two really ugly demons. The next big surprise was the gift-wrapped and hand delivered Buffy that they threw into the lift shaft.

Buffy saw the Avatar zooming up the elevator shaft as she was thrown in. "Xan…DER!" she screamed as gravity took control and she plummeted past him.

"Shit!" Xander let go of the steel cable that held the lift and followed Buffy down. He caught her about 10 storeys from becoming a human pizza.

"Do you trust me?" he shouted.

Buffy looked wide-eyed. "YES!"

Xander nodded, and 'jumped'.

The Angel Investigations crew and the Scooby gang got the fright of their lives when Xander and Buffy appeared in the air above them and crashed unceremoniously to the floor in a heap.

"Oof!"

"Hey, get your legs untangled from mine!" complained Buffy.

"Oh?" replied Xander. "Then stop trying to feel just there would you?"

Buffy blushed as he said that. Then blushed even deeper when she realised that she was lying in a tangled heap with the Avatar in nothing but a bikini. All the men in the room were drooling, Giles included.

"Ginnrr…" Angel was insensible. Now he understood the modern obsession with scantily clad models. This one-minute alone would feed his fantasies for the next decade, and probably make him use Seattle's annual rainfall in ice-cold showers. Gunn had similar thoughts running through his head. Damn, I need to renew my subscription to Playboy… Giles was thinking distinctly un-Watchery thoughts, verging on some of the ideas Ripper used at one time or another. He had always seen his Slayer as a girl, never as a woman. This proved she was definitely a woman.

Buffy broke their train of thought. "Has anyone got any clothes, please?" her voice advertised that anymore staring by anyone other than her boyfriend would result in grievous bodily harm.

Cordelia punched Angel firmly on the arm. "Hey, she's Xander's girl, not yours! Stop it, you never look at me like that!" Angel snapped out of it.

Cordelia nodded, satisfied, and motioned for Buffy to follow her. She had some spare clothes.

Xander stood, but did not retract the Avatar's armour. He coughed, bringing the attention of the remaining members of the group to him, instead of the door that Buffy had walked through.

"Uh… I could do with some clothes too." He sounded distinctly uncomfortable. He looked at Giles. "But not tweed."

Angel sighed heavily at Buffy's swim suited figure being removed. He shook his head and pointed Xander toward his room. As long as Xander liked black, he could wear what he wanted.

Whistler looked at Buffy and Xander through a window the Powers had created.

"Why do all Slayers have to be so hot?" he wondered out loud. "That girl could give a corpse a hard-on."

He laughed privately to himself. "Oh, I forgot. She already did…"

Xander walked out of Angel's room about twenty minutes later. After going through Angel's things, he discovered that the vampire had no colour sense at all, and had solely black clothes. He settled with black boxers, black jeans, which at least felt comfortable, and a black silk shirt. Black socks and hiking boots completed the raiding of Angel's closet. Almost as an after thought, Xander plucked Angel's spare duster from its place on the back of the wardrobe door, and slipped it on.

An hour after that, which had been filled with some uncomfortable silences, and some strange looks from Angel, and some appreciative ones from Fred, Buffy finally followed Cordelia back into the room. The blue halter-top and skin-tight jeans didn't really hide a lot more than the bikini did it was so figure hugging. Xander whistled and Buffy smiled at him. Glad someone could stop his or her brain from melting. Then Buffy actually saw what Xander was wearing.

Oh my God! He looks like a less broody version of Angel!

Buffy winked at him. "You OK?"

Xander grimaced, but shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose. Shirts too tight in the shoulders." He wiggled his shoulders a bit to prove the point.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. These jeans are a little bit tight. Don't know how Cordy fits in them."

An indignant sound came from Cordelia. "Hey, I can always let you run around in that bikini, Buffy." She quickly changed that when dreamy looks appeared on the faces of the guys in the room. "Or not."

Why did you change, Xand?" asked Buffy. "I thought the Avatar protected you?"

"It used to, a lot more than it did tonight. I've got a bruise where a 'Light Fifty' round hit me in the head." He rubbed his forehead gently. "And that little inferno Hart cooked up at the gas station crisped my clothes. I was running around in the armour with nothing on underneath."

Buffy giggled at the picture of Xander going commando under the armour.

Xander became serious suddenly. "Buffy, you do realise now that Hart is gonna go all out to get us? We have to move to protect everyone."

Buffy nodded sombrely. "Yeah."

Giles coughed. "What do you mean, Xander?"

"I mean that Buffy and me are going to be hunted. If we're near you, you'll be in danger. Giles, stay in LA. Help Angel. Get Willow, Tara and Amy here as soon as you can. Buffy and me will be safest on the Hellmouth, where we can fight back."

"I don't like this, Xander. It sounds dangerous." Giles didn't want anything to happen to Buffy.

"Dangerous, Giles, yes." Said Xander. "But necessary."

Buffy moved to his side, and wrapped an arm around his waist. "What do you want to do?" she whispered.

Xander smiled down at her. "String Hart up by the short hairs. But that will mean sacrificing people, our friends far from the bottom of the list. I'm not willing to do that."

Buffy nodded in understanding. "I'll go pack."

Xander looked at her as she left. So beautiful…

Hart stood in front of his seers.

"What have you found?"

They answered in one voice. "The Avatar lives. As does the Slayer."

"Where are they?"

Again the response was in unison. "Sunnydale."

Hart smiled. "Good. Tell Smith I want him to eliminate them above all others."

The seers nodded, and one sent the telepathic command.

As Buffy and Xander tore down the highway for a return to Sunnydale, LA seemed to darken considerably. Hart's plans would take their toll…

That's this part over. Next: things get interesting. Don't expect it for, well, conceivably, ages. Although it might appear faster if I get motivated. Hint: Feedback!

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