On Display: On Display
by Heroes Team

Xander grabbed the box of cereal out of Willow's hand as he slid into a seat next to her. "I'll be needing that."

Buffy blinked at him from over her breakfast. "You're up early."

"Yeah, well, rest is that thing that happens when you're not the Quizmaster General for one night."

"How'd you luck out like that? Finally had it with her blue-and-better-than-us-ness?"

"Nah. Just needed a day off." Xander shrugged and steered the conversation towards Illyria. He really didn't want to talk about the reason for the day off. Not something he wanted to discuss. Illyria, yeah, better topic. "It's not the horrible thing you make it sound like. Not sure how I became Knowledge Guy, but she's not so bad if you ignore the fact that she thinks that we're all at about ant-level most of the time."

"I don't know how you do it, Xand. She just bugs me sometimes."

"She seems a little less Her-Highnessy than when she got here." Willow had a look on her face like she was trying really hard to say something vaguely nice. "I don't think I've heard her talk about using our collective bones to make a throne or anything for weeks."

"She's getting close to the 'ally' concept. We're working on it. She's cool with the L.A. crowd, and she's cool with me. It's just taking her a little longer to get used to everyone else." Xander looked around. "Speaking of, where's Dawn? Still asleep?"

Buffy shook her head. "Miss Bookworm left early. Guess Angel's collection of mustiness was a bigger deal than breakfast."

"Have you seen his collection, though?" Willow's eyes lit up. "Dawn talked him into letting her bring a couple home so I could see them. Some of the magickal tomes of Wesley's had some heavy-duty stuff.

They all got quiet for a second. Xander figured they were all thinking the same thing. They never really knew the guy. Buffy spoke up and proved his thoughts. "Sometimes, it's hard to put what Angel and Gunn say about him and the memories I've got together and come up with the same person. I hear this stuff and think, 'Wesley did that?'"

"Illyria talks about him sometimes. You wouldn't know it was the same guy we knew except for the name," agreed Xander.

Willow nodded. "When I saw him last year, he was different, but I didn't see how different. I was kind of 'me me me' when I was there, I guess. But people change."

"Yeah, like people who were once The Chosen One become the girl who gets kicked around by some newbie." Buffy looked up at her friends like she was sorry that the words came out of her mouth. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Buff, don't worry about it," Xander reassured for what had to be the twentieth time this week. "It was just one of those things. You're not gonna bat a thousand."

"Exactly." Willow jumped in to back him up. "Besides, hello, it's not like you expected to find a slayer out there."

"S'okay. I'm a relic. I'm over it." Which Buffy clearly was not, but Xander wasn't going to call her on it right now.

Neither was Willow, who came to the rescue with an instant conversation switch. "Hey, why don't we see some real relics? I bet there's some exhibit going on that would be cool to see."

"So I can put myself on display and all of the new slayers wander by and can say, 'Ooooooh, look at the has-been'?"

"What happened to the 'I'm over it' from a second ago? Hang on, I saw the section of the paper with the museum listing lying around yesterday." Willow got up and went in search of the paper.

Xander was about to tell her where it was, but thought better of it. Instead, he turned to Buffy. "You know that's all crazy-talk, right? 'Has-been' is not a title of the Buffy. You're the best. And that's not a past tense kind of thing."

"Maybe, but I've kinda gotten used to being the non-slayery Buffy. Didn't have to fight much evil in Rome. The slayery part of me... Maybe it's a little rusty. Or maybe a lot rusty."

"What, Mr. Immortal Guy hasn't found you enough evil to slay? Remind me to tell him to get rolling on that. He's obviously a slacker. Hate to see you waste away from boredom."

Buffy threw her napkin at Xander. "You're terrible!"

Xander plastered a grin on his face. "Like usual."

"Found it!" Willow waved the newspaper in front of her as she came back into the room. "Let's see, there's a thing about Apollo 9 at the Aerospace Museum, a thing about dinosaurs with feathers at the Natural History Museum, and... oh."

Xander knew exactly what she'd seen. Buffy, clueless, got up to see what she was staring at. "Oh my god."

Xander had to play dumb about this. "What?"

Willow soundlessly handed the paper to him, but he knew what he'd see in it already. Museum of Photographic Arts. Yep, the ad was right there. The title read, "Devastation in California: The Sunnydale Crater."

Buffy found her voice first. "Somebody went up there to shoot pictures of it? Why?"

Xander tried to keep his voice level. "It was a big thing. Some people might want to see what happened. I guess."

Buffy slowly walked back to her seat at the table but didn't sit down. She stared at the flakes floating in the leftover milk of her cereal bowl. "I want to go."

Willow nodded to her. "We should. We should all go."

"I'll call Dawn and let her know. We can pick her up on the way."

"No." Xander didn't say it loudly, but they both turned sharply at the word. "I'm not going."

"Xander, don't do this." Willow's eyes pleaded for him to agree. "It might be good. Help you deal with... you know."

"Look, I just can't, okay? I have things to do." Xander stood up and started to head out of the room.

"But Xander! You didn't even eat your cereal!"

"Not feeling too into breakfast," he said over his shoulder.

***


"I can't believe Wesley had a copy of the Hofflix Opuscule!" Dawn ran into Angel's office with yet another book find. He marveled at her enthusiasm, even if it did get a little much sometimes. "I mean, it's super-short, but it's got some major information about the Molitount Prophecy."

"Wes was almost as thrilled as you are when he found it. Thrift store, if I remember correctly. Or so he said." Angel considered for a second. "Never was exactly sure about all of his resources."

"Well, whatever it was, go him!" Dawn must have seen a look on his face that he hadn't planned to have, because she instantly lost her grin. "I wish I could have picked his brain a little. I didn't remember him being this cool. The monks must have gotten my memories of him wrong."

Angel shrugged and nodded, but he was pretty sure that the monk-created memories that Dawn had of Wes were right on target.

Dawn started to wander the room, looking like she was looking for a decent was to re-start the conversation.. "So... when do you actually open for business?"

Angel looked around, surprised. Was there something wrong? "I... uh... I already am."

"What? You're kidding right?"

"What's the problem? The phone works, and I've been patrolling the area. I've got some supplies on order. This place will be 100% operational in no time."

"Uh-huh. Let me see what you ordered."

Angel ruffled through some papers on the desk and handed her the invoice. Dawn read through it, looking unimpressed. "This is it? This is all you ordered?"

"I don't need much. I had a ton of stuff in my desk drawers at Wolfram & Hart that I didn't use. I never actually learned what some of it did.

"But no way is this enough. Get me the catalog and I'll set you up." Dawn rolled her eyes at him while Angel looked around on his desk. "I swear, you'd think that a former CEO of a major law firm would at least order a fax machine."

Angel watched her as she went to work. The bell went off in his mind that now might be a good time to broach the question that he'd been considering. "Dawn? Do you... I mean... Don't suppose that you'd be interested in a job?"

"Job?" Dawn looked up at him, surprised. "Me? Doing what?"

"I'm short a few key staff positions, and truth is, you could fill two of them pretty easily, at least until we get busy. I need a researcher, and I need an office manager. Interested?"

"But I'll have school this fall. I can't do full-time anything."

"Part-time only. School has to be your priority. I'm just asking that you work when you can. But I could really use the help." Angel paused. "I guess I've gotten used to having a team to back me up. I just think that you'd be good at it.

"So I'd help you run your little detective agency?"

"It's not that little," Angel defended. "Or it won't be."

"Sorry."

"But yeah, you'd be helping me, and helping Gunn as well, once we figure out his new job description. What do you think?"

Dawn stuck out her hand and he shook it. "I'm in." She didn't look like she had to consider very hard. Good sign. "Wait, I have to tell Gunn!" She squealed and ran for the door. Then she paused and turned back to him. "I just want to be clear on one thing. I'm not going to be your secretary. You said office manger and researcher. I'm holding you to that."

"That's fine. I'm done with secretaries. My last one was Harmony, remember? Employees like that sour you on the secretary concept."

"Good. Oh, wait, just a sec." Dawn fished the annoyingly-musical cell phone from her pocket. What song was that supposed to be? Ignoring the short conversation, he considered what he'd just done. Good to have another person on the team, whatever this team was. He wasn't sure what Gunn would think, Illyria was more of a free agent, and Spike... was Spike. Still, though, Dawn was the same age Cordy had been when she started working with him, plus she had the research experience that Cordy never got into. This could be good.

Dawn snapped her phone closed. "Hey, boss? I'm gonna be taking a long lunch today."

***

"Andrew, are you quite certain that you have a full handle on the situation?"

"I do! I'm in their inner circle! Nothing big happens without me there. Except that nothing big is actually happening. At all. The biggest news is the old stuff about that new slayer we found in Lakeside."

"Odd. The seers of the coven recently gave us a similar warning to that which Angel and Buffy received at that oracle. Crown, poison fruit, a power somehow growing and gathering information in order to one day take power... It is truly disturbing. But you have heard nothing?

"No, sir."

"All right." Andrew waited while Giles paused on the other end of the line. Wouldn't it be cool if they had a video phone? Then he'd know why Giles got quiet all the time when they talked. He was pretty sure that the phone was actually on mute. Maybe somebody was talking to him? Or something really funny was on "the telly" like British people said?

Giles abruptly came back on to the line. "Andrew, please convey the following to Buffy. The seers warn that a destructive force is nearby. The quiet of the current circumstances must not cause them to lower their guard. They must be cautious."

"...Must... be... cau... tious." Andrew was writing it all down. "Got it. Anything else?"

"Just... do be cautious yourself. Report in to me the moment anything unusual transpires. The Council is counting on you."

"Yes, sir. I won't let you down."

"Excellent. Until later, then."


***


Xander balanced the bag of Mexican food as he tried to fish out the spare set of keys from his jacket pocket. He wasn't sure who'd be around, so he'd bought plenty of extra, just in case. Who was he kidding - it was also because skipping breakfast made him hungry.

He had to find something to do when he left, so he'd been out looking for postcards for "his" slayers back in England all morning. The goal was to find ones with photos that weren't too perfect-looking so they wouldn't feel bad for being stuck in England, but postcards like that weren't exactly easy to find. Knowing how slow postcards travel, he wondered if he'd be making a stop-over in England before the postcards actually got there.

He was starting to think about going back. There still was nothing going on with the brewing-evil warning they'd gotten. It was all looking like a false alarm, just like Angel's supposed Demon Army: The Sequel. He figured that he'd give it another couple days. Willow and Dawn kept telling him that didn't mind him nabbing couch space, but he didn't feel right invading their apartment for as long as he had been. He actually would've rather been in a hotel room, mostly because he'd gotten used to being by himself all the time, but Wil put a stop to that real quick. Still, he'd been back in California a lot longer than he'd originally planned. If nothing came along and made the Evil Meter jump, he'd start looking at heading back to work. Even though the Council had a new guy covering the Africa territory for him while he was gone, it still felt like it was his responsibility.

And after the photos he saw the day before, he needed something to concentrate on to get all stuff he tried to keep out of his head evicted. Burying himself in work had done the trick so far. Not a bad idea to try it again.

He was having no luck with finding his key with his arms full of food, so he set the bag down and did it the easy way. Opening the door, he was less surprised than he thought he should be to find a visitor.

Illyria stood in the living room staring at whatever was on television. She didn't seem to feel the need to turn to talk to him - he guessed that she assumed that he was listening. Which, yeah, he was. "Do you require another day of respite, or are you able to continue our discourse?"

"Yeah, I'm good for it. Gotta eat first." Xander plopped down on the couch. "You hungry? Want a taco or something? I've got plenty to share."

"Taco." Illyria paused, considering. "The shell remembers these. They were pleasing to it. I shall consume one."

"Sure thing." Xander went to grab one out of the bag. "Wait a second. What exactly remembers liking tacos?"

"A remnant of the shell. They are paltry electrical impulses. I do not lower myself to interpret them unless it suits my purpose. They continue to persist despite this."

Xander was used to hearing Illyria shrug things off by now, but this had him worried. "So... You're basically haunted? That can't be good."

"It is information to be used or ignored. Nothing more."

"How much is locked up in there? It's gotta be confusing. Do you remember actually being her?"

"I was not her. I was never her. I use her form, nothing more. She was a lower being, as are you all. The impulses transcend your simple concept of memory."

"Okay, so if they aren't memories, then what exactly are they?"

Illyria finally turned to face him. "I shall demonstrate."

Xander watched as the blue faded off Illyria in waves.

****

"Hey! Guess what?"

Dawn had just bounded into the room. Into his private space. Nice of her to knock. Not like he was doing much of anything, but principle, right? "How about you just tell me before you knock me over?"

"We're co-workers!" Dawn had a huge grin on her face as she ran over to the chair next his wheeled version. "Angel just gave me a job. I'm going to be office managing and doing research. How cool is that? I get to do what my sister usually makes me do, but I'll be getting paid for it!"

"Really." Gunn was more than a little concerned. Angel was handing over the jobs of two people to a kid. Two dead people. "Funny, I hadn't heard about the official job opening."

"Don't know if it ever was official or anything, but I'm it." Dawn jumped back up. I gotta go. I have a bunch to get done before my sister gets here. Eek! I have to figure out what to tell her!"

"I'd go with the truth. Works out a hell of a lot better in the long run."

"Well, duh, but it's all about timing." Dawn waved to Gunn. "Later!"

Gunn watched her as she ran out of the room. He wasn't going to have a huge beef with having the girl around - she was okay mostly, even though she seemed to hover around him a lot when he'd rather be solo - but Angel had saddled her with a lot of responsibility. Not a safe job, either, and Gunn was able do a hell of a lot less to keep people safe now than he could when the other people did those jobs. Dawn? She was just a kid. Didn't matter that she was hellmouth-raised, 'cause if you asked him, Dawn was getting in way over her head.

***

Xander wasn't sure if his jaw had dropped as low as it felt like it just had. The girl in front of him looked like Illyria, sort of, but then it wasn't. She looked totally normal. Brown hair and eyes, a dress, and very human. Not only that, but there was another word that sprang to mind that he'd never thought he'd say about Illyria: cute. Pretty, even.

Was it actually her? "Illyria?"

"Kinda," said the not-quite-Illyria, smiling shyly. Even her voice was different. The way she stood, the way she held her head, the look in her not-blue eyes... This was weird.

Then he got it. "Wait. No. You're Fred, aren't you?"

"That gets a big kinda, too." The girl had a accent. Fred was from Texas, right? That sealed the deal. He was talking to a ghost. Sort of.

A zillion questions raced through Xander's mind, but the first one to actually make it to his mouth was, "How do you do that?"

"It's no biggie. Energy can't be created or destroyed, right? Neurons always firing like crazy, and some of that energy just decided to, y'know, stick around." She twirled around. "And here I am!"

"But where is here? I mean, where is here for you? Do you ride around in her brain all the time? Do you see what she does? Do you sleep in there?" Xander took a deep breath before asking his next question. "Do you go somewhere else when you're not here?"

"No, silly! I don't go anywhere. It's all the same, just different."

"So you're both?"

"No, I'm me. Just me."

"Okay, I'm not getting this. Let me try something else." Xander was still trying to reconcile this girl with the Illyria he knew, and couldn't. Total opposites. "Do you change to look like this a lot? Not that the leather isn't a great look for you, but that looks a lot more comfortable."

"Not really." Illyria-Fred's face lost its smile. Xander had never seen Illyria smile before this. "I've done this a few times, but there were real good reasons."

"What's the good reason now?"

"You've been helping me a ton and answering lots of questions. You had questions for me today, so I'm just trying to answer in the best way I can. Fair is fair, right?"

Xander grinned at her and received a grin back in return. "Sounds reasonable."

"Reasonable, my ass," Spike's voice came from the hallway. "What the hell is this?"


***


Dawn paced outside of Angel's office waiting for her sister. On one hand, she had fantastic, exciting, super-mega-big news to share. On the other, they were about to go see pictures of the hole in the ground that used to be their home. It wasn't the ideal way to tell Buffy this great news, especially since she wasn't sure what she would think of its greatness. Plus, it was majorly inappropriate. What she was about to see hadn't totally hit her yet, but she knew that it would as soon as they entered the exhibit.

Seeing Buffy and Willow in the car, and way more importantly, the looks on their faces, she decided that her big news could wait until later. Angel wasn't going anywhere.


***


Spike stood in the doorway, staring at the non-blue Illyria.

Xander had to ask the question. "Is this really... was this Fred?"

Spike whirled on him. "What were you thinking? Are you completely off?"

"Excuse me?" Spike's anger had completely caught him off guard. "She offered to show me this. I didn't know what she was gonna do. And what's the problem? Different hair, different eyes, accent, but it's still her, right?"

"No, you idiot, it isn't." Spike shot out his arm, pointing at Illyria. "That? Doesn't exist. Not anymore. That girl is gone."

"Not exist? What I'm seeing here is human. She just looks a little different than the not-as-human I'm used to."

"You're not getting the concept, mate. What, you're going to ask her to appear as your girl in a frilly nightie next to prance about the room?"

Xander's face turned to stone. "It's not the same."

"It is the same." Spike approached him, his voice low. "You have no right to ask to see Fred. You didn't know the lady."

"This display of emotion is unseemly." The accent was gone from Illyria's voice as she interrupted. "I will choose to appear in this form to any being I wish. The shell is mine to do with as I will."

"It bloody well isn't!" Spike whirled to face her. "You're walking about in her body, but she deserves a hell of a lot better than to be shown off any time you feel like it."

"Why? It is simply another form. Appearance is irrelevant." The Illyria-Fred eyed Spike distastefully. She was Illyria again, just without the blueness and the leather. But the voice, the stance? That was her. "Unlike you, Alexander is able to gaze upon this form without sickening waves of grief eminating from him. You have no such strength."

"He didn't know the lady!" Spike protested.

"Your excuses are meaningless, half-breed. I will leave this place to be rid of your emotional infection." Illyria turned and strode to the door, all-too-normal brown hair streaming behind her.

Xander tried to go after her, but Spike grabbed him by the arm. "Not so fast. The lass can take care of herself. There's a few things that need explaining here, and you're going to shut up and listen."


***

They hadn't said much since they'd arrived that the museum. Photo after photo showed them what they already knew but hadn't looked back on: a hole where their home used to be.

"Maybe we should've asked Spike to come with us," Dawn realized. "He'd want to see this. I mean, since he did the destroying."

"No." Buffy answered quietly. "Too many memories in the place. Makes me feel like it's that day again. And it's not. It wouldn't feel right."

"It's okay," Willow reassured her. "But we'll tell him about it. He should really see this."

Buffy nodded and wandered to the other side of the room to stare at a wide shot of the crater. They made this happen. No, Spike made this happen. But they all fought this battle. A lot of battles. A lot of graves. A lot of lives saved. Now? This was a museum piece. The whole thing. Something for people to look at and remember, but it didn't exist anymore. It was history.

And she was more part of history than part of the now.

She wasn't joking with the relic comments. She really felt like that. She'd get glowing reports about new slayers from all over the world. These girls were learning. They were good. Most of them got to learn from each other, too. They'd surpass her no matter what. Most of them probably had. So many of them were younger, and they were training every day. Buffy hadn't trained for ages. The last year had mostly been one big vacation for her. She liked finally having the pressure off.

But now she realized that she also liked being the best. And she didn't think she was that anymore. Might never be again. Oldest and most experienced doesn't automatically mean best.

Buffy was distracted from her thoughts by a shadow on the other side of the display board. Weird. She'd thought that they were the only people in the room. She walked around to see who might be over - could possibly be somebody they'd known from back then.

She didn't expect to see what was on the other side. She wanted relics? She got them. A long glass-enclosed case ran along the wall with scraps of items: pieces of signs, broken glass, and other things found along the edge of the former-hellmouth. It was like that exhibit of items from the Titanic that she'd seen with her dad in L.A., except this was all stuff she might have seen before. Maybe seen daily. From her own home. That they'd destroyed to save the world. There was a rose that somebody'd left at the exhibit, almost like it was a memorial of some kind. Buffy idly wondered who might have left it, but then her eyes caught a glimpse of something not enclosed in glass at the end of the case.

It was a square chest that was in surprisingly good shape considering where it must have come from. Next to it was a scribbled note that said, "New Arrival, Information TBD." It looked unlocked - make some treasure escaped the hellmouth? She wasn't thinking of the money kind of treasure, but maybe someones photos or coin collection. Something that could be returned to its owner.

She reached out to open the box and froze in place. Literally.

***

"What the hell is your problem?"

Xander was getting frustrated. Spike was seriously pissed off, and the reasons still weren't all that great. Or at least Xander didn't think so. Spike was sounding more jealous than anything, which made no sense. They'd been arguing for a good half-hour already.

"The problem is that you think you're able to advise her. You're way out of your depth here. She's a former god-king! She'd rip your arms off given half a chance and less of a reason."

"She wouldn't do that. Not to me."

"Yeah, she would, and that just shows how little you know of her. I tested her for days. Had a clipboard and everything. A few chats and you think you've sussed out what makes her tick? None of us get that. Least of all you."

"And you do."

"Far better than you. I know what she's capable of. Seen her in action. She's an unholy terror when she gets going. You treat her like she's some kind of exchange student."

"And there's a problem with this?"

"You're not gettin' it, are you? What you saw was wrong to see. I sure as hell feel wrong by seein' it. Fred was good company. Made you feel important. And Illyria took her over and destroyed her. Nothin' against the bluebird, 'cause it's just what her kind does, but there's no Fred in there."

"Then who did I meet today? Because it sure didn't look like who I've been interrogated by for weeks now. Explain to me who that was. Who did I see?"

"Who'd you see when now?" Neither of them had noticed Andrew open the front door. When did he get a key? "Um...Sorry to interrupt, but where can I find Buffy?"

"Not here. Out."

"Can I wait here for here? I have a message for her."

Xander shot a glance at Spike. "Yeah. We were done, anyw-- Whoa." His eye had been caught by the still-on television. "What the... Guys?"

The news anchor guy was in mid-report "...And in breaking news, a situation is in progress downtown. A bar has been evacuated, and witnesses are reporting that a dark-haired woman in her early to mid twenties is involved. Police advise that people stay clear of the area until the threat is contained."

Spike looked over at Xander. "Another of those new slayers?"

"Sounds like." Xander was already halfway to the phone. He hung up right away. "Dammit, they're at the museum. Bet they turned their phones off."

"Museum?" Spike looked he wanted a little more information, and this really wasn't the time.

"Never mind. Tell you later." And he actually meant it. Xander looked over at Andrew. "That's pretty much it for available help, huh?"

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "I think Angel's phone is working now."

"No!" Xander and Spike made that in stereo.

"I concur with that assessment," Andrew readily agreed.

Spike turned to Xander. "All right then. You're the bird-dog for these slayer birds now. I want to see if you can pull it off with somebody from your own country who can tell that you're a git."

Xander nodded, letting the insult pass because there were way more important things going on. "Andrew, mind staying here and manning the fort? Let Buffy and everybody know what up if you see them?"

Andrew looked a little disappointed, but he nodded back. "I can do that."

"Thanks." He glanced at Spike. "You wanna go? Fine. But do anything to freak the girl out and I'll...

"No worries there."

"Good. Just back me up if things go bad. That's it."

***

Irony, thy name is... um, whatever the name of the box was, Buffy thought.

She'd called herself a relic, and something must've been listening. Maybe it's karma. Because here she was, turned into stone. Or maybe iron, which might make all this even more ironic. All she was sure of is that she was stuck. Now all the new slayers really could come by and talk about her past victories or stupid mistakes or whatever they'd actually bring up.

C'mon Willow, she thought. I'm around the corner. You can break this. I know you can. This is cake for you. Cake from an EZ-Bake Oven. You've just gotta come find me.

She saw a couple of shapes come around the bend and would've sighed with relief if she could move. But as the figures moved toward her, she realized that they were way too old to be Willow or Dawn. Great. More museum visitors. This should be interesting. As the pair got closer, she could make out what they were saying.

"I'm certain that it's symbolic of something. You know how these artistic types are."

"Perhaps. However, it's completely out of place."

"Indeed. Also, I have to say that I can't tell if it's a life-size figure that was made too small or an oversized miniature. Perhaps it's a child?"

"Wearing clothing like that? I certainly hope not!"

The voices faded as the two women walked past her. Fantastic. She'd just been critiqued.

***


"Can I come in?"

Gunn put down his magazine and looked up at Angel. "Why?"

Angel shrugged. "Because I want to?"

"No, why you askin'? Seems like most days you got the yen for burstin' through the door, all dramatic-like. And I know this ain’t about needin' an invite, seein' how you own the damn building."

"Well…"

And don’t gimme any of that 'just bein' polite' crap. Don’t seem to recall you sayin' a lotta 'please' and 'thank you' back when you were the big bad CEO."

Angel shifted uncomfortably. "I just wanted - "

"To see how I was doin'. I’m fine.” Gunn went back to reading his magazine. "I’m dealin'."

"Good. Do you need - "

"No."

"Because I was just going to go - "

Gunn looked up again. "I said no. Cordy mighta found the whole mother hen thing cute back in the day, but I don't."

Angel grimaced. "Fine. Just trying to be nice here. If you want to start being Mr. The World Owes Me again, be my guest." He headed back towards his office.

"You hired Dawn," Gunn called after him. It wasn't angry or annoyed. It just was.

Angel turned back. "Yeah. I did. What about it?"

"Make sure she stays outta harm's way," Gunn said. "She's too good to have to deal with the problems we’ve had to."

"She’s faced demons before."

"That's not what I'm talkin' about."

Angel stood quietly.

"Just make sure," Gunn reiterated.

"I will."

***

"Where's Buffy?"

Willow looked around. "I don't know. Maybe she went outside?"

"She would've told us. She has to be in here somewhere." Dawn raised her voice. "Buffy!"

"SHHHHHHHHHH!" A couple of women that'd come in a few minutes ago didn't seem to like her volume.

Tough. "BUFFY!"

This time, the two women just glared. Dawn could live with that.

"Uh, Dawnie?" Willow was looking behind the main display board at an area they hadn't gone through yet. "We have a problem."

"What's up?" Dawn went over to see what Willow was staring at. "What going on ove-- Oh my god."

They'd found Buffy. Or something that looked exactly like her. Except it wasn't moving.

Dawn walked by the display case without glancing over at its contents. "Buffy? Is that you?" She turned back towards Willow, who'd followed right behind her. "Is it her? What happened?"

"One sec." Willow closed her eyes and concentrated. "It's here. Definitely. She's just stuck somehow. Time's moving around her, but she's not."

"Can you stop whatever's doing it?"

Willow crouched down at the box that Buffy's hand was touching. "Must be this. I'm guessing residual hellmouth nastiness." She stood up. "I can break it, but I'll need some supplies. If Xander's home, he can run stuff down here to us lickety-split. Can I use your cell?"

"Are you kidding?" Dawn practically threw it at her.

Willow walked a few steps away to make the call. "Hey! Could you... Wait, who is this? Andrew? Is Xander there?" She started to pace. "No? Okay, I need you to... Yes, Buffy's with me... No, you can't talk to her. She's, um, indisposed... Look, I need a favor......"


***

Xander pulled into the parking garage, giving Spike a chance to ditch the blanket. "The entrance is way too sunny. You still want in on this?"

"I'll find another way in, no worries."

Xander nodded. "Okay. But if you get in there first, wait for me. Got it? I'm calling the shots on this."

Spike regarded him, surprised. "You take this New Slayer Introductory Course thing damn seriously, don't you?"

"It's my job."

"Yeah, but you're a little intense about the whole thing."

"Because they deserve it." Without waiting for another comment, Xander got out of the car and headed over to the bar. Wasn't hard to see which one - it had the crowd milling around it.

"This sucks," said a guy to Xander's left. Turning his head all the way to the left tfor his remaining eye to actually see the guy who'd spoken, Xander asked him what was up. "Some chick went psycho in there," was the answer. "They made us all leave. It's happy hour, damn it! I'd just ordered a beer."

Xander fished for information. "One girl caused all this? You're kidding, right?" Always nice to have an English-speaking witness, he thought.

"Weird, huh? Just the one. Dude, seriously, she's a nutcase. Hot, but completely insane, and on some kind of heavy drugs. The way she was throwing things around, she's gotta be strung out."

"Is everybody out?"

"No, there's still a few guys stuck in there."

Xander feigned concern. "Oh god. I was supposed to meet my brother in there. I'd better check it out."

"Hey, good luck."

Xander nodded to the guy and went in the door. It took a second for his eye to adjust to the dim light. There were tables and chairs strewn across the floor, and he saw a couple of guys cowering behind the bar.

Then he saw who they were staring at. A girl stood on top of one of the pool tables, holding a large guy up by his shirt. But the girl wasn't a slayer.

"Illyria!"

She turned her head and regarded Xander calmly. "I do not like this place. The males do not show proper respect. I wish to tear off their arms and form them into a wreath as a warning against such insolence. I will not be treated on this manner."

One of the guys behind the counter called to him. "You know this chick? You work at the mental ward or something?"

"I know her. Why?"

"Good. So you can tell me who's paying for all the damage to my bar?"

Spike looked in from a door in the back. Xander nodded to him, hoping he'd play along. "Talk to that guy. He'll take care of paying you for the damage."

Spike glanced around at the scene and nodded back. Looked like he got what was up. "Yeah, sure, I've got it all covered." With another glance at Xander, he sauntered over to the bar.

Xander motioned to Illyria. "Dropping that guy would be a really good idea right now. Leaving would be even better."

"I have not yet enacted my revenge. Why should I wish to leave this place?"

"Just trust me." Illyria dropped the offender as Xander helped her climb down from the pool table. "Besides, I think Spike will do a little of that revenging for you."

He could hear Spike delivering the "payment" from behind them as they left the bar.


***


Andrew walked up to the desk carrying a box of things that stunk. "Hi. I'm here to see Willow Rosenberg?"

The woman at the desk blinked at him. "I'm sorry. Who?"

"It's okay." Dawn ran up and showed the woman a spare ticket. "We've got him covered." Dawn took him by the am and started

"No food or drinks allowed!," the woman called after them.

Dawn ignored her. "So, did you get it all?"

"I think so. Is Buffy really frozen? Somebody must have stolen Warren's freeze ray design."

"Not frozen as in ice. Frozen as in can't move. Willow says that it's kinda like that U2 song - Buffy's stuck in a moment she can't get out of. Except Willow's pretty sure that she can hear us."

"So she'll be okay?"

"Willow says so, and who's better at this magic stuff than she is, right?"

They walked around to the back exhibit area where Willow was shooing away a couple of museum visitors. "No, this area's closed. Go away!"

Andrew approached her with the box he'd carefully packed. "Here's the stuff you wanted. Plus paper towels and cleaner for after, and look, air freshener in case it smells."

"Thanks!" She started unpacking the box, arranging the items in whatever the special way was that she knew to do and sat in the middle of them. "Okay, time to de-freeze." Andrew watched her face darken in concentration, but there weren't any veins. That was good. After a second, she opened her eyes. "Whoa. That wasn't the energy signature I expected." She re-arranged a couple items and started again. After a few seconds, Andrew started feeling really warm, and then the Buffy-Statue suddenly fell over.

"Buffy!" Dawn ran over to her sister as Willow took a deep breath and stood up. "She's okay, right?"

"She'll be fine, promise," Willow reassured her as she knelt next to them. "It will just take a few minutes for her body to get re-accustomed to everything."

Andrew stood there watching. "Um, anything I can do to help? I could, like, ask around here, see if anyone saw anything suspicious."

"Actually, yes. That would be great. We'll take care of Buffy."

"No problem. I'm on it." Andrew looked around for a good direction to go in and saw a door in the back. Opening it, he found access to the back areas. Hidden catacombs, even if they were just hallways with fluorescent lights.

Most of the rooms were empty or filled with crates, and he even found a kitchen, but it didn't have much of anything in it. And he searched it pretty well. At the end of the hall he found his first living soul, even if it was just a janitor. Still, he thought, even a janitor might have seen something important, and only he could discern if the information was vital.

He knocked on the open door. "Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if you'd seen anything, um, weird around lately."

"Weird? Like how? I don't know what you mean."

"Unusual. Odd. Extraordinary. Like people lurking or strange stuff lying around, things like that"

"No, can't say as I have." The janitor started to walk away.

Andrew chased after him. "Are you sure?"

The janitor peered at him. "Sure I'm sure. And who wants to know?"

Andrew used his Watcher Voice. "Me. I'm a weird expert."

"Really? Interesting." The janitor raised his hand up to his mouth like he was about to sneeze. Andrew was digging in his pockets for a tissue to give him when the janitor blew some kind of dust into his face.

As he fell back, he heard the janitor saying something. Incantation? Prayer? He barely made out a few of the words before he slipped into unconsciousness.


***

"Doing any better?" Willow asked.

"Sort of. Think my legs might start working soon. Let me try... Yep, I can be vertical." Buffy stood up, but she was a little wobbly.

"See, look at you! Standing and everything!

"Go me. I can stand. Real impressive."

"Oh shush. Let's get Andrew and go home." Leaving Dawn with her sister, she got up and went the same door Andrew had.

Searching room after room, Willow started to wonder where he'd gone. Was there maybe a back way out? Or was he in the middle of interrogating some unsuspecting docent?

Then Willow found Andrew sprawled on the floor on the room at the end of the hall and sighed. Guess he found something that qualifies as suspicious after all.


***


"A statue?" Xander asked incredulously. "That's nuts!"

"It was bad," Buffy agreed. "Hooray for Wil, coming through again!" Willow blushed at the praise.

Buffy'd called a post-statuary-being emergency meeting. Two of them had gotten attacked that day, and that was cause for a big meeting of "What the heck?"-saying.

"It should be pleasing to have a monument," Illyria stated to no one in particular.

"But when I'm the actual monument? No thanks."

Xander glanced over at Illyria, who had returned to her typical blue status. Nobody had seen her change her look except him and Spike. He felt weird mentioning it, and Spike hadn't said a word. The subject hadn't even come up since they'd left the bar.

He returned to paying attention to the conversation as Angel was quizzing Andrew. "Do you remember anything? What the guy was wearing, where he went, something."

"I don't, really! I'm trying, I really am, but it's all blurry." Andrew looked upset, like he'd let them all down or something. He glanced over at Willow and Dawn. "And I'm really sorry that you had to carry me out of there."

"Just take a deep breath and calm down." Angel was trying to keep him focused. "Run through it in your mind. A word might help, or where he stood..."

"Ooh! I think I remember something he said! The robot... no, wait... the, um... The Reborn One!"

Buffy blinked. "Reborn? Oh, great. Another freaky religious group?"

"Maybe. Sounds like they're working off of some prophecy."

"'The Reborn One' could fit a lot of us, actually," Willow mused. "It could be either one of you, or it could be Buffy..."

"Twice," Buffy interrupted. "They might be giving my extra points for that."

Willow nodded. "Maybe. So it could be you, or Dawn with her key-ness, or Illyria ... Actually, over half of us have something reborny going on."

Xander raised his hand. "I'd just like to state that I'm just fine with being prophecy-free."

"Can I be prophecy-free, too?" Dawn complained. "I didn't like the first one I was in all that much."

"I don't think so." Angel shook his head. "It's not likely that Dawn has anything to worry about. She already had her prophecy go by. I'm telling you, it's probably me. I show up in prophecies all the time. I'm used to it."

Gunn rolled his eyes. "And we know how well your prophecies work out."

Andrew cleared his throat. "It is clear that one of us, one who is not me, is in imminent danger. We must be on our guard."

"So is stating the obvious one of the first things Watchers learn at that schoo-- Ow! Hey!" Xander jumped as Dawn elbowed him in the ribs.

Andrew barreled ahead. "Buffy, Mr. Giles wanted me to inform you that the seers of the coven have echoed the warnings of the Oracle you spoke with." Andrew dropped the Watcher act for a second. "He just wanted me to tell you to be careful, okay?"

Buffy smiled. "Tell him thank you."


***

Closing the neatly-bound report, the man gazed out the window. He was pleased about the subject of this test and the results measured, but concerned that the Brother sent to set up the test was almost discovered. No matter; everything was still on schedule. They would be ready for The Reborn One when the time came.

More importantly, this second test had proven beyond a doubt who their greatest adversary would be in the coming months. A pre-emptive strike was most certainly in order. He began to compose an e-mail to start the process.

The witch would be dealt with.




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