"Matched Set" ~ Chapter 6

SPOILERS: loose Season 5, after "The Body" but before "The Gift"
RATING: FR-T for mature themes, mild violence, language.
DISTRIBUTION: KoalasPlace.com, Dword's theLIST, HeadQuarters. Anyone else, ask and it's yours!
DISCLAIMER: Without Prejudice. Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and concepts are copyright ©1997-2002 20th Century Fox, WB Television, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN Television. No Infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. The story and all other characters are mine.

Chapter 6

Giles gritted his teeth, letting Buffy put his frustration and anger of being betrayed by Ethan Rayne--again--into words.

"You slime," she grated quietly, well aware of the need for lowered voices. Drawing undue attention to themselves, especially now when it would only bring allies to Ethan's side, was not a good idea. "No," she corrected, "you're lower than slime. You have to look up to slime. Slime sits so far above you, you can't even see it from where you're standing."

"Yes, very amusing," Ethan said with no time for petty insults. "Now, if you please." He indicated they should ascend the foyer staircase, his quill demons stepping around him to enforce the command. When neither Buffy nor Giles moved to comply, Ethan shifted the ax resting on his shoulder in grim warning. "There's no need to make this . . . messy."

Temper flaring, Buffy made a hostile move, ready to pound the traitor into next week despite the demons blocking her way. Giles physically restrained her, softly speaking her name, wondering if his old friend really had the gall to take their heads. Buffy turned in his arms, momentarily transferring her rage onto him for his obstruction of Slayer justice. But her temper was a resource better spent elsewhere, and knowledge of this quickly passed via a look between them.

She backed down, albeit a tad reluctantly, but ready for whatever he had in mind. Surreptitiously pushing her onto the first stair, Giles confronted his former friend, who was standing safely between his pet demons. He hoped Buffy understood his intentions, that there was only one course of action to take. He felt her hands on his back, a signal that she did. "You really believe you can bargain with the Xazax?"

Feeling cocky, Ethan shrugged and stepped forward to gloat. "It's simple commerce, Rupert. She has what I want--a pilot to get the hell out of here--and I have what she wants." He smirked, swinging the ax head off his shoulder and into his hand. "Your heads."

"Not yet, you don't." Quicker than Ethan thought possible, Giles did what he had been itching to do since Halloween night on his doorstep. He punched Ethan in the face, hard enough to knock him backwards into his pet monsters and split his lip. "Pillock."

Before his demons could set him back on his feet, Giles and Buffy bolted up the curved, wooden staircase. Halfway up, as Ethan angrily shouted orders at the quill demons to give chase, Buffy reached around and grabbed Giles by the arm, physically hauling him up behind her when his exhausted leg muscles began to peter out.

At the top of the stairs, they almost ran right into the scaly demon who had been Ethan's dinner buddy. The thing was catching a bedtime snack, chewing on a grizzled thighbone of dubious origin, and stopped to blink its red eyes at them several times as if just as surprised by the encounter. For a split second, no one moved. Then, at the lumbering sounds of the quill demons closing in behind them, the Watcher/Slayer team saw their opportunity and reacted like a well-oiled machine. Buffy let fly with a roundhouse kick to the scaly demon's head, which made the thing lose its mouthful of raw meat as well as its grip on the greasy thighbone. At the same time, Giles tore a lit torch from a mounting bracket and used it like a baseball bat.

Dribbles of fat ignited on the stunned demon's face, licks of flame quickly trailing along the evidence of its bedtime gorging to engulf its upper torso. It let out a high-decibel shriek, flailing its scaled limbs as it tried in vain to douse the fireball. Spinning in panic, it lost its balance and careened down the staircase like a flaming bowling ball, toppling the two dim-witted quill demons who were on their way up, as sure as if they were tenpins. Several steps below them, Ethan had no choice but to hop the wood banister to escape being either charred or flattened. With a cowardly yelp, he ended up dangling in the stairwell, a survivable but inconvenient drop into the foyer flagstones his only option.

"This way!" Buffy called, taking the initiative, one hand clamped on her broken ribs but the determined look still on her face.

Giles loped down the narrow log-walled hallway after her, his body too sore and exhausted to manage anywhere near top speed. Worried and anxious, Buffy threw a look over her shoulder at him . . . just as there came a soft beep of an electronic lock and a door opened on their left.

"Buffy!" he cried in warning, as two more surprised-looking vampires, who had no doubt left their beds to investigate the commotion in the hall, emerged. Flicking a stake from her sleeve, Buffy dusted one before recognition of own his demise even registered on his face, while Giles took on the other with his flaming club. He didn't set this one alight quite so easily, so he took to pounding the thing into submission until it fell, dazed, to its knees. Buffy pirouetted from her attack and gracefully drove her stake though its back to pierce its heart.

Even before the ash had settled, another beep and another bedroom door opened further down the hall. And another.

"Run!" Giles ordered, alarm creeping into his voice.

"Where to?" Buffy asked, ignoring his order and instead adopting a fighting stance, her stake held at the ready. She motioned her head at the growing group of vampires and demons groggily gathering in the narrow hall behind them, as well as in front of them. They were effectively sandwiched.

"Bloody hell . . . "

Flexing his fingers around his sputtering torch, his only weapon, Giles warily watched the vampires in front of him figure it out. As recognition of their advantage dawned, their sleepy human faces contorted to their true bestial visages. Brows crinkling and fangs showing, they began to swarm forward en masse, the team morale that had been on the decline now surging strong. He and Buffy were utterly outnumbered, but at least their enemies lacked those high-powered, laser-sighted weapons that spelled instant death.

The vampire nearest Buffy snapped his jaws and let out a low, menacing growl. She grimaced theatrically, and fanned the air in front of her face. "Don't you guys ever brush before bed?"

Giles felt her hand on his thigh, as she thrust a spare stake into his grasp, but he had little time to offer even a small smile of gratitude. Moving back-to-back with her, he kept his eyes on the vampires slowly advancing on him.

"Nothing like a little Watcher snack to help me sleep," snarled the one closest him.

"Save me a piece of Slayer," he heard another call from further down their ranks.

"Eat stake, dead-boy," Buffy said angrily, a moment before Giles felt the rush of cold air as she pushed away from his back. The vampire closest to her exploded into ash even before her taunt had died. She immediately began trading punches and blocking blows from the leader of the group facing her, the narrow hallway hampering them to attack one or two at a time.

With problems of his own, Giles fielded a clumsily thrown fist, kicked, turned, and drove his stake into the chest of the closest vampire he could reach. Holding his breath, he plowed through the dust cloud, using his torch to club the one waiting behind. He brought his knee up when that vamp instinctively doubled over from the blow, meeting its jaw with a satisfying crunch of splintered bone. He silenced its yelp by staking it as it fell, but two more behind were already reaching through the ashes of their fallen kindred to grapple with him. Spinning, he landed an elbow in the face of the one to his left, shattering nose cartilage, while the one to his right tore the torch from his grip and yanked his arm behind his back. The vampire holding him hurled him face first into the log wall, hard enough to daze him for a moment. It held fast, twisting his arm into a painful position. With his cheek ground against the wood, Giles grunted from a knee to the kidneys and an almost dislocated shoulder, knowing that they had him even before he felt the other half-dozen pairs of eager hands seize hold. One squeezed his wrist, forcing him to relinquish possession of his stake or suffer the consequences.

At least, Giles thought, as he reluctantly gave up his weapon, at least he had reduced their number by two and injured one. As ineffectual as that may be in the larger scheme of things, if felt bloody good.

"Anyone for a wing?" asked the vampire threatening to tear his shoulder tendons.

Giles gritted his teeth as another one of them answered. "Just remember to save the head. We're dead meat if you damage that."

"You're already 'dead' meat, you vampire git," Giles said defiantly. He was unable to stop himself from crying out as his captor gave his arm a solid yank.

"And in a moment," the vamp returned, its foul breath almost making him gag, "you and your Slayer are gonna be little-bitty-bite-sized morsels."

From his pinned position, Giles' concerned gaze flew to Buffy. She was similarly outnumbered, but giving the vampires hell. Still, he saw the problem. The hall's confined space was both an advantage and a disadvantage, limiting the enemy to attack just a few at a time as had been his original plan, but also nixing any chance Buffy had of executing the time-tested fighting techniques he had taught her over the years. As with his own short-lived battle, as fast as she dispatched one adversary with her stake, another undead or demon body was waiting in the swell of their ranks to replace it. With a sinking heart, he watched her dust another one before two more got the better of her, landing a series of body blows that felled her to her hands and knees. Buffy let out a cry of real agony as a vampire with a decidedly bloodied face took revenge by callously landing a boot in her broken ribs.

Enraged, Giles struggled in vain to free himself. "You bloody bastard!" he spat at the offending vampire. "Leave her alone!"

Down the hall, another door beeped and opened.

"What the hell is going on out here?" The icy rage in the Xazax's voice stopped the action cold, as if the entire hallway had suddenly been frozen in time.

The grip on his arm relaxed, easing the pressure off his shoulder joint and allowing Giles the opportunity to pull his cheek away from the log wall. He turned his head as the swarm behind him parted in almost biblical fashion, allowing the Xazax huntress easy passage into the heart of the fray. She glided forward in her low-cut, satin and silk sleepwear, pulling on a wispy robe and looking more the part of a seductive temptress than cold-blooded killer. Trailing in her wake was her ever-faithful minion Tay, his half-disfigured human face a grotesque parody of his vampire visage. He had his energy taser with him, and looked keen to use it.

The vampires restraining Giles bodily pulled him back from the wall and forced him to meet their mistress, while the ones that overpowered Buffy had to carry her forward to stand at his side. Giles' concerned gaze swept over his Slayer. Still reeling from the brutal kick to her ribs, sweat now beaded Buffy's forehead. She looked pale, and nauseous, and barely able to stand upright without the help of the vampires holding her. The pain lashing at her must have been unbearable. He longed to take her in his arms, to offer both comfort and support, but the many hands restraining him made it impossible.

The Xazax's temper quelled slightly as she took in the reason for the disturbance, and her subdued prisoners. Reaching out a stone cold hand, she gripped Giles' unshaven jaw and roughly forced his gaze to hers. "Surprise, surprise. I can't say this has ever happened before on one of my hunts."

Giles jerked his face away, but before he could tell her to go to hell, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

"Milady!" Ethan shuffled forward, pushing through vampire and demon throng, eager to be seen and heard. "Milady, if I may present you with my gift."

"Well, if it isn't my wily sorcerer," the she-demon mused coldly, hands going to her hips. "You too, have proven far more resourceful than I first gave you credit." Then she frowned, her quicksilver eyes flashing so dangerously that Ethan actually flinched. "You assured me waiting made the reward sweeter, sorcerer, but there is a limit to my patience."

"Yes, well . . . " Ethan began, floundering. His obedient quill demons shuffled up to his back, no doubt now acting as his personal bodyguards. "I only wanted to prove my loyalty."

"By running away?"

"By delivering--" He swept his hand in a grandiose motion, indicating Buffy and Giles in a silent fanfare. "--your prize."

"You prat," Giles growled. To think he had given the man his trust, to think he had once even called him a friend.

Well, two could play his back-stabbing little game.

"Milady," Giles began respectfully, "you must believe me when I say that the sorcerer is the real power here, and a very real danger to you."

"What?" Ethan asked, his manipulative smile replaced by genuine surprise.

"He's been playing you from the beginning, lying to you, tricking you into believing that Buffy is a champion, but for his own twisted purposes." Giles motioned his head at Buffy, who honestly looked ready to pass out on her feet. He buried his concern for her and pressed on. "But look at her. Does this frail, helpless girl really resemble the mighty warrior he paints her to be?"

"Giles!" Ethan yelped in protest.

"I think not," Giles continued, noting he was making the right impression on the right person. "He betrayed you once and he'll do it again . . . the same way he betrayed us. We were lucky to escape him, and only came here in the hope we may offer this warning in exchange for amnesty."

Ethan blink, totally stunned. Then the fear started to settle in.

Giles looked smug. 'Take that, pillock.'

"This mighty Slayer does appear rather . . . fragile," the huntress agreed.

Ethan faced the demon huntress with an expression so smooth it could melt-in-your-mouth. "Milady, I beg you not to believe these false and rather desperate accusations. Ask any one of your vampire minions of the Slayer myth. I swear to you, she is the prize you seek."

"Well?" she asked Tay, over her shoulder.

Before the vampire could answer, Giles cut in. "It's true the Slayer myth is known to all vampires, Milady, but I assure you it is simply that--myth. In reality, the sorcerer's magic is the power behind it. Behind us. Buffy and I . . . we are simply pawns in his game. And I fear if you do not help us, you will be next."

"No," Ethan muttered in denial. "No-no-no, no-no! H-he's lying through his teeth!"

"I rather think not."

"You are, too! You just lied about not lying!"

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Enough!" The Xazax glared at Ethan for a moment, before her cold, silver gaze assessed Buffy and Giles. Without further word, she turned, majestically sweeping down the hallway through her silent but loyally parted sea of riff-raff. "Bring the humans to my chamber, Tay," she ordered. "All of them."

* * *

Buffy studied the interior of the Xazax's lavish bedchamber from under hooded eyes. Although the agony of the kick to her broken ribs had abated to a dull, tolerable throb, she kept up the pretense of being dead on her feet. She sensed Giles looking at her, trying to assess the extent of her injuries, his concern, love, and fear evident in the weight of his gaze. It took all of her willpower not to reach for him, or even look at him, because there was just no way she could let him know she was only faking without giving away her advantage. Out in the hall, through the buzz of real pain cloying her senses, she heard what he had told their demon captor in an effort to buy time . . . and give Ethan a taste of his own medicine. As far as Buffy was concerned, the Xazzy bitch queen could go on believing she was a 'frail, helpless girl' right up until the moment she killed her.

To further this illusion, she slumped a little more in the arms of the vampire guard who held her. There were three guards in total, all vampires, one each to restrain her, Giles, and Ethan. The fourth vamp was right-hand minion, Tay, still looking dominant and smug behind his hi-tech energy taser. Apart from the Xazax, the only other occupant of the room was a dark-haired man, just a little older than Giles, who was obviously naked as he cowered under the bedcovers. No points for guessing what he and the lady demon had been up to before the interruption in the hall.

Silken robes flowing behind her like wisps of virgin mist, the Xazax paced to the foot of her massive four-poster bed, whirled, and paced back again, obviously thrown by the unexpected turn of events. The door to her inner sanctum had been electronically locked behind them, and the only way to open it again was with the key card that Tay dutifully presented to her . . . or with the one Ethan still had. Like in the room where she and Giles had been held prisoner, all the windows had been shuttered against the daylight world, the only light provided by wall torches and the embers in the fireplace.

Not that getting out of the room was a high priority on Buffy's 'To Do' list. By now the rabble out in the hall were probably organizing themselves, finding weapons, readying for a midnight snack even if they did have to shoot it first. No, for the moment, she and Giles were much safer inside the bedchamber with the Xazax and a couple of minions, even if the demon huntress did seem a little ticked off. What was that Giles had said about her species' hair trigger temper?

"All I wanted was a nice, new, matched set for my collection," the Xazax complained as she finally settled on her bed next to her reluctant lover, toying with the key card. "And what have I? A 'ménage a trios' who care little for the rules of the game! This is no fun, Tay. No fun at all. Why aren't they running away?"

"Would it please Milady, if I took all three downstairs and had them shot?" Tay asked helpfully. "I could bring you their heads on a silver platter?" he sing-songed, trying to persuade her. "And tonight, we could all dine in gastronomical delight."

"Tempting . . . " the Xazax mused, but then she pouted like a child whose sandbox had just been invaded by a bully. "But then, I would never know."

"Know, Milady?"

"Which of them is telling the truth."

"I am," Buffy heard both Giles and Ethan chorused together. "He's lying," they said in unison. She rolled her eyes as they broke into another chorus of "Am not!" "Are too!" like a couple of schoolboys.

"Silence!" Such was the authority in the Xazax's voice, they both--thankfully--shut up. Reclining on her plump pillows, the demon huntress spent the next few moments rearranging her long, shapely limbs into a position that was both comfortable and provocative. Her seductive moves effectively drew the undivided attention of every male in the room, alive and undead, Giles and Ethan included.

'Bitch,' Buffy thought. She really hated women who used sex as a weapon. Taking advantage of the distraction, she surreptitiously scanned for potential weapons, but the bedchamber had been outfitted for luxury and seduction, not combat, limiting her choices. The ornate wooden columns of the Xazax's four-poster bed seemed the best bet . . . if she or Giles could get close enough to break one. Buffy still had half a bottle of Holy water in the breast pocket of her duster, and Giles had his squirt gun concealed somewhere on his person . . . if he could take his mind off the enemy's body long enough to remember it.

'Sheesh, men.'

As if attuned to her disapproving thoughts, Giles cleared his throat. "Milady, if I may," he began, his tone suggesting he had changed his stratagem toward diplomacy.

"I said, silence! I will hear no more lies . . . from either of you," she added when Ethan opened his mouth. "I'm beginning to think your entire species is incapable of telling the truth. The Powers know, my late husband never could."

Waving them off as if they were annoying gnats, the demon huntress deposited her key card on the small table by her bed. She picked up two other items and began playing with them instead. From under half-lidded eyes, Buffy recognized the two shock bracelets worn by her and Giles, the same ones she had send down river as a decoy. Amusing herself with them obviously gave the Xazax an idea, because her expression quickly shifted into that of seductive temptress. As this new idea of 'fun' began to take full flight, her alluring, quicksilver eyes raked over Giles in a way that instantly woke up Buffy's green-eyed monster.

"You know, Watcher," she told him in sincere admiration, brandishing a bracelet, "this was brilliant. Do you realize, you are the first human I've hunted to have successfully removed the bracelets? And then to use them in such a manner? You sent me miles out of my way."

"I'm so glad you're impressed," Giles returned acidly. "But I assure you, we were only able to remove them because Ethan told us how."

"I see." She shamelessly looked him up and down again, then let her no-less-appreciative gaze slip to Ethan. "Come here, sorcerer."

Ethan took a step back, an instinctive reaction that revealed his true horror, but the vampire guard behind him roughly pushed him forward. "M-milady?" he ventured, tripping a little. He straightened and conjured up a smile, obviously deciding it was time to do what he did best in tight situations--grovel. "Milady, surely my return to you, with your prize no less, speaks something of my loyalty? I would never betray you."

"Sit," she ordered with a sensuous smile, patting the covers of her luxurious bed with her free hand. As a brusque aside to her current bed partner, she added, "You, out."

Buffy tried not to look as the naked man obediently scrambled from under the covers and scrounged for his clothes.

"Isn't that . . . ?" Ethan asked about the identity of the departing man. He adopted a reluctant position on the foot of the bed, clearly doing his best to stay as far away from the she-demon as possible.

"My pilot, yes." Reaching out, the Xazax took Ethan's hand and forcibly drew him closer, keeping hold to prevent his escape. "You intrigued me with your promise to teach me something I did not know of the needs of human males," she cooed seductively. "After you left, he was the only human male available. Unfortunately, he knows nothing of which you speak." She smiled, seeming amused. "Why do you ask? Are you jealous?"

"Insanely," Ethan said with a lewd grin. He may have looked and sounded convincing, but Buffy knew him well enough to know it was nothing more than an act to save his own ass. Lifting the Xazax's hand, he leaned toward her, the action to show subservience and to place a kiss on the back of her rock hard fingers.

The huntress smiled sensuously. "Then imagine how you will feel," she said to Ethan's humbly bowed head, "when I replace you with the Watcher."

Ethan's head snapped up in alarm. "What?" He suddenly brought up his other arm and stared at it, aghast. To Buffy's surprise, and no doubt his own, there was a shock bracelet now clamped around his wrist. "But I-I-I--"

He tried to move away, but she held him firm in her one-handed, stone cold, death grip, eliciting a full-fledged scream from him as she mercilessly crushed all the bones in his hand.

"Take him," the Xazax ordered Tay. "The girl, too. Release them, and I shall resume my hunt . . . " She looked back at Giles, her manner so provocative that it left no doubts as to her intentions. "In due course."

With the flick of her wrist, she threw the matching shock bracelet toward Tay, who put out his hand to catch it. But it never made it to his grasp.

Elbowing the vampire guard to free herself, Buffy's hand snaked out to pluck the bracelet from mid-air. Straightening from her slumped position and defiantly lifting her head, she drilled the Xazzy bitch queen with a look that would have trampled any human female rival at twenty paces. "I don't care if you hunt me through the wilderness, poke me with your energy taser, or even call me a 'fragile girl' for the rest of your natural life . . . which, I might add, is gonna be pretty short. But you try to go pelvic with my man, lady, then you're really gonna know what it's like to piss me off."

"Your man? I thought you said--?"

"I lied. You know, that old human trait?" A slow smile crept over Buffy's face. It was a challenge. And a warning. And a signal.

Suddenly, her fist was in her guard's face, breaking his nose, an instant before her elbow landed in his gut again and winded him. Before the other guards could react, she let fly with an expertly placed jump kick to the chin of vampire standing behind Giles, her boot whistling past the side of her Watcher's head with a mere fraction of an inch to spare. She grabbed the guard's arm as he teetered backwards from the blow, and instead used momentum to fling him into his pals, toppling all three.

"Oooh, triple bonus score for the Slayer," she mused gleefully, watching the tangled pile of vampire arms and legs try to sort themselves out.

Giles gave her a quick smile that spoke volumes of his relief, love, and renewed determination. Buffy favored him a wink, but lost sight of him in her peripheral vision as the three guards picked themselves up, and Giles rushed forward to the Xazax's bed.

* * *

Tay leapt to the defense of his mistress, either out of loyalty or simply because he was spoiling for a good fight. He cut Giles off, making the latter literally skid to a stop on the animal fur rug at the foot of the Xazax's bed. Morphing into his vampire visage, the minion brandished his taser in a threatening manner, the electric charge rippling deep purple between its dual prongs. The smell of the burnt ozone was a clear indication that the thing was set high enough to do far more than simply stun.

For her part, the demon huntress appeared more amused than alarmed, and chose to stay reclined amidst her plump pillows and silken linens while Tay took care of the details. Still whimpering from his broken hand, Ethan scrambled away to safer quarters and tried in vain to pull the bracelet off his wrist. By all accounts, the thing did not yet appear to be giving off any shocks, despite its mate being all the way across the room in Buffy's hand, thus Ethan's eagerness to remove it was by reputation only.

Giles warily watched Tay approach him from around the long side of the luxurious four-poster bed. As the vampire made an impatient but clumsy lunge across the corner, Giles easily jumped back to avoid being stunned.

Don't kill him, Tay," the Xazax ordered. "Not yet."

"Yes, Milady," the vampire droned automatically, but from the hideous grin on his face--the disfigurement Buffy had caused earlier with her Holy water making the expression insanely grotesque--Giles knew the minion had plans of his own.

Tay slowly came around the foot of the bed. Giles waited until the right moment, then he dove for the corner bedpost and hoisted himself on it so that he could kick the vampire in the chest with both feet. The startled vamp hurtled backwards into the wall and went down, dazed but not out, although somehow managing to maintain a grip on his dreaded taser.

Seeing his chance, Giles planted his feet then let fly with a sharp kick to the bedpost. He splintered the wood first try, then got his hands around its polished bulk to pried away a long, tapered length. At just under four feet, it was more a spear than a stake, but it would serve its intended purpose all the same.

Looking up, he noted the Xazax, still reclined on her bed, but with a dramatically different expression ruling her exotically beautiful face. Gone was the calm amusement present when Tay had been defending her, replaced now with a healthy dose of feminine apprehension. Giles caught her eye and the moment gave him pause, because she looked, for all the world, the part of helpless female victim with him cast into the role of male aggressor. Her quicksilver irises rapidly changed color as her emotions shifted between curiosity and concern. When he grimly reached in his pocket for his squirt gun, she actually looked a little fearful . . . right up to the point when he revealed the plastic toy.

Then she laughed. Heartily.

* * *

The three vampire guards took a beating from Buffy, but they kept getting back up. She spun, kicked, ducked, and connected with each of them in turn, oblivious to the pain each of these movements caused her broken ribs. Straightening after knocking all three down for the umpteenth time, she blew the hair out of her eyes . . . and wished mightily for a stake as all three started to clamber back up.

Although her eyes were focused on them, her keen hearing picked up on a tiny sound behind her. As the lead guard lunged for her again, Buffy grabbed two fistfuls of the front of his shirt. Using his momentum, she turned, hauling him around to use as a shield against the as yet unknown threat looming at her back. Good thing, too. Her instincts had been right. The vamp sizzled and stiffened as Tay jabbed him with the taser, frying him from the inside out. Buffy instantly let go, as the vamp jittered and sparked between her and Tay. He finally dropped to the bedroom floor, a crispy critter, making her wrinkle her nose at the offensive odor of burnt hair and blackened flesh. He wasn't dead--or deader--just seriously scorched. "Ew, I think I prefer the dust."

Tay growled in frustration, but Buffy grabbed his wrist before the taser in his hand powered up with another charge. Spinning, she parked her hip in his groin and flipped him onto his back, where she neatly snapped the shock bracelet she had caught around his wrist. Surprised by this move, Tay could do little but glare up at her, as the soft, silver surface of the bracelet magically morphed to hide all evidence of a way to remove it.

"Congratulations," Buffy told him flatly. "I hope you and Ethan will be very happy together."

Enraged, Tay's free hand locked around her ankle and pulled her off her feet.

Buffy landed hard on the polished wood floor, the wind knocked from her lungs and her busted ribs on fire. A yelp of pain penetrated the buzz in her ears, and she rolled over to look in that direction, fearing something had happened to Giles. But it was Ethan who was jumping about and crying out as if he were being stuck by a barrage of invisible pins, and Buffy suddenly realized that now the bracelet's 'circuit' had been completed with another victim, the cuffs had begun to adversely react to the excess distance that separated them.

As she climbed to her hands and knees, sore and still a little winded, Ethan looked at her.

"You can't be serious?" he pleaded, eyes wide. He yelped again, not sure whether to nurse his broken hand, or try to remove his bracelet, or run in one direction or the other. "Buffy, please! Help me!"

* * *

Giles heard Ethan's plea for help, and since it involved Buffy, he turned to see what was going on. His aim with the water gun slipped, allowing the demon huntress the opportunity to slither from her bed. What Giles saw behind him made him completely forget the Xazax and swear in a low voice.

Moving like the creature of the night he was, Tay silently stood up behind Buffy, towering over her as she put her hand on her broken ribs and climb to her feet, seemingly with no clue that the vampire she thought was down for the count was bringing up his fully charged taser to jab her.

The vampire minion jerked in tiny spasms that appeared to come in almost perfect synchronization with the ones menacing Ethan, but Tay ignored them in favor of his chance to kill a Slayer. Giles opened his mouth to shout a warning, but one of the vampire guards tackled him out of nowhere. He grunted instead, as he landed on the bed with the thing, losing his grip on the water pistol and the length of bedpost in the process. They bounced once before plunging over the side of the mattress, entangled in the satin sheet.

* * *

Buffy's innate Slayer Alert System redlined right off the scale, making the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. She spun around, bringing her fists up, and came face to gruesome face with Tay. He made a wild swing at her with his taser, but the spasms he was experiencing hampered his aim and dexterity, and made him easy to dodge. Buffy counter-attacked with a punch to his face and a knee to his gut, then backed away while he recovered, giving herself room to maneuver. As they squared off again, she reached into the breast pocket of her black duster for her bottle of Holy water.

"Hey, I'll trade you," she offered, pointing at his taser and then at her bottle. "Deal?"

"You already used that," Tay said, leering coolly. "It's empty." He came at her, his taser sparking.

Buffy pitched the little bottle like a pro ball player, slamming it right into the side of his head. It exploded on impact, the glass cutting his into cheek, ironically on the good side of his face, the remainder of its blessed contents splashing and searing his undead flesh. Shrieking in pain, Tay dropped his weapon in favor of cradling his smoking injury in his hands, and skulked away into the same corner where Ethan was still trying to rid himself of his bracelet.

"Half-empty," Buffy clarified. "To a pessimist like yourself, that is. Being an optimist, I preferred to remember it from our last encounter as still being half-full." She stooped to pick up the energy taser, a spoil of war. But she didn't have much of a chance to enjoy her victory, as ScorchBoy and his guard buddy, whom she had temporarily beaten into submission, crowded her on either side. She gave them a tired, battle-weary roll of her eyes. "Can't you guys take a hint?"

* * *

Sickened and horrified, Ethan watched the badly burned vampire huddle in the corner, not two feet away from him. Extremely wary of it, he kept his eyes glued to its every move, no matter how unthreatening the creature seemed at the moment. It had retreated to lick its wounds, figuratively speaking, and as such, it appeared completely neutral to his presence. At least the thing's close proximity put a temporary end to the sharp jolts that were even worse than the throbbing pain of his broken hand. But how to get the damn bracelet off the thing's wrist? He had no stake, so killing it was not an option, and running into the fray to get one seemed an even more perilous pursuit than staying put.

The solution that came to mind made his eyes grow wide. In all likelihood, since Buffy and Giles had worn these very bracelets, they were still magically held in place by that very same thing.

A love pact.

Ethan's mouth dropped open. So a confession of undying love would rid him of the wretched thing? Somehow, he doubted it would be that simple, that if his feelings weren't genuine the key wouldn't work, but Chaos only knew he was willing to try. At present, he was willing to try anything!

"I love you," he whispered, grossly embarrassed. If it heard, the disfigured vampire didn't react, merely continued to ignore him and moaned quietly to itself. He cleared his throat. "I love you," Ethan repeated a little louder.

Completely humiliated, he glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone else was within earshot, but Buffy was still fighting the remaining two guards, Giles was nowhere to be seen, and the Xazax had found her pitiful pilot and was fussing with him for some unknown reason in front of a large, antique armoire.

Ethan looked back at the vampire. "I love you," he said once more, with feeling.

Then it came to him, and he snapped the fingers of his good hand. Of course! Words were not enough. He needed a smear of the vampire's blood! But how in the name of Mayhem and Havoc was he going to get that?

Carefully studying the withdraw vampire's face, at least the part of it he could see through the repugnant wisps of smoke and the cracked, black flesh, Ethan noted that Buffy had split its lip during their rabid exchange of feet and fists. A stringy chord of bloodied saliva stretched from its mouth to dangle beneath its chin.

Grimacing, Ethan tucked his broken hand safely under his arm. Cautiously watching for any movement of even vaguely hostile intent, he reached out with shaky fingers.

* * *

"Buf-fy!"

Punching down a vampire, Buffy faltered. Her Watcher's strangled cry made her whirl around, her eyes zeroing in on the two sheet-covered figures grappling by the far side of the Xazzy bitch queen's comfy-looking bed. One of them had to be Giles and the other the vampire guard who tackled him, but she had no idea who was who because the satin sheet they had become entangled in now draped them from head to knee. For a moment that lasted an eternity, she watched them blindly struggle with each other, their body language and grunts suggesting each had the other by the throat and was throwing their opponent around the room in an attempt to gain the upper hand. But the more they moved, the more tangled up they became.

Someone slammed someone into the wall, hard enough to rattle the flickering torches in their metal mounts, and Buffy grimaced with a bad feeling that Giles was on the receiving end. Breaking out of her bubble, she made a move to rush to his aid. But one of the guard's she had just pummeled to the floor unexpectedly leaped up right in front of her, blocking her way. He growled menacingly, saliva dripping from his crooked fangs, his yellow eyes ablaze.

Irritated by the delay, Buffy jabbed him with the taser, her aim true to the one anatomical spot that was the great equalizer of all men, dead or alive. He jerked, spasmed, and his eyes rolled up in his head. When he collapsed at her feet in a fetal position, she felt pretty sure he wasn't going to get up again any time soon.

Quickly crossing the bedchamber, Buffy took in the situation in a glance, but had to jump backwards out of the way as the sheet-covered pair's wild thrashing almost steamrolled her. Spying the tapered length of bedpost sticking out from under the bed, she grabbed it up and prepared to run it through the vampire's chest.

But she hesitated, doubting the very impulse that made her fight. She didn't want to stab Giles by mistake! Or taser him, for that matter. And the sheet was too twisted and knotted around them for her to pull it off.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and concentrated. The world slowed until time crawled by at a snail's pace. She let her Slayer senses guide her, feeling through the fury of the melee until she found the emptiness of the soulless vamp. Her target shifted as they struggled, so she waited a moment for her chance.

Buffy swung the bedpost like a club. The dull, squishy sound of connection opened her eyes, in time to see one of the figures drop from under the bloodied sheet, out cold. Or worse. In the blink of an eye--the time it took for the draped figure left standing to untangle the sheet she experienced a whopping great pang of uber-doubt. She wasn't brave enough to look down at her feet, suddenly terrified she would find the man she loved lying there with his skull bashed in, dead, in a spreading pool of his own blood.

Giles tugged off the sheet, his hair rakishly ruffled, the red finger marks on his throat evidence of how close the vampire came to throttling him. When he looked at her, bewildered yet sensitive to the horror still shining in her eyes, she almost forgot they were in the middle of a life and death situation and fell into his arms. Holding back, she settled for a quick smile instead, holding his gaze while she slammed down her bedpost and dusted the vampire stirring at their feet.

"Thank you," he said gently, taking a brief timeout to comb a lock of hair from her face, the gesture so full of love that she practically had a meltdown on the spot. He was in the midst of returning her smile when his eyes pulled away, and his expression changed back to that apprehensive look she'd been seeing a whole lot too much of lately. "Behind you," Giles warned quietly.

Feeling their presence even before she turned, Buffy brought up her bedpost again, this time to throw as a spear. She impaled ScorchBoy and his neutered pal on it, one behind the other like a vampire kebob, before it thudded into the far wall and their undead corpses exploded into ash.

"Huh . . . that one vamp was way hardier than he looked," Buffy remarked, a little surprised her taser stun had been less effective than she thought. "Considering I nailed him in the--" Blushing, she surrendered the weapon to Giles. "Here. You'd better take this."

"Yes, they're all insanely loyal to their Xazax mistress," Giles agreed, taking the taser. "Such is the fear of repercussions she inspires." His eyes danced around the room, his expression darkening again. "Where is she, by the way?"

Buffy turned and pointed. "She and that pilot guy are over--" But they weren't in the last place she had seen them, which was standing in front of the huge antique armoire. Frowning, she completed a full circle just to be sure, confirming that as large as the luxurious, dimly lit bedchamber was, the Xazax and her human pilot were nowhere in it. "Well, they were over there."

"There must be another way out of this room," Giles concluded, striding away with Buffy in tow.

They paused by the bed to find and retrieve his squirt gun, before continuing on to the antique armoire that dominated a large, better than average area of wall space from floor to ceiling. Giles wasted no time flinging open the double door and pushing aside the apparel on the hangers found within.

"Giles, no offense, but I'm starting to think all this James Bond stuff has gone to your head," Buffy started to say . . . but she shut up quickly when his investigation revealed a familiar looking electronic lock panel on the back wall.

Giles spared her a knowing look. "Really. Then why bother to place a lock inside a closet?"

Buffy smiled, honestly impressed that Mr. Low-Tech-Guy had even thought to look. "Clothes really do make the man. At least they would have, if you'd still been wearing the tux. Did I ever tell you how glad I am you decided against the jumpsuit?"

"We can discuss the merits of my choice of a Halloween costume later," Giles said absently, returning his scrutiny to the electronic lock. "Right now, the Xazax has several minutes head start."

"You think that leads to another room?" she asked, watching him fiddle with the panel. As with the lock on the door of their bedroom cell, it was simple in design but complex by nature. There were only two lights, designating locked and unlocked, and a single slot for the card, but a whole bunch of multi-colored wires and complicated integrated circuits waited within. Just how Giles intended to hotwire the thing was as baffling to her now as it had been before. Technology just wasn't his forte, and it probably never would be. "Kinda like a secret passage?"

"I'd rather wager it leads outside to her jet."

"The shed!" Buffy said, remembering the part-ways fallen down shed that sat at the end of dirt airstrip and appeared to serve no purpose. It was great camouflage for the exit, and it suddenly made perfect sense. The Xazax huntress was a big technology buff, and if she went to all the trouble to install and build such an elaborate, super-villain escape route, then chances were good it would lead out to within a few yards of her equally ostentatious, super-villain escape vehicle.

"Precisely."

"And she's got her pilot. Giles, if she manages to take off . . . " She didn't need to finish the sentence for it to be understood. If the Xazax escaped, she would--eventually--set up shop elsewhere and start her disgusting sport of hunting humans all over again. Hundreds more innocent people would be captured, hunted like animals, and killed for their heads. They had to stop her.

Not to mention the trouble it was gonna be getting home to Sunnydale without transportation. Ethan was right. It wasn't like there was regular bus service to the wilderness . . .

"Then pray the sunlight slows her down," Giles said. He stopped fussing with the electronic lock, frustrated. "Of course, it would help if we could get this bloody thing open!"

Buffy peered around her Watcher, noting the stark red light on the panel. "It's locked."

"I can see that," he said a little testily. "What we need is one of those blasted key cards." Giles straightened to pat the pockets of his flannel shirt, searching for the plastic card he had found in the book touting the Xazax's vulnerability to saltwater. Suddenly remembering he had given it to Ethan downstairs, he looked over her shoulder, tilted his head to one side in the expression of the patiently puzzled, then motioned her to look.

Following his lead, Buffy turned. She frowned. "What the hell is he doing now?"

* * *

Bending over the huddled vampire, Ethan collected another long, stringy dribble of blood, winding it around the fingers of his good hand with a disgusted grimace. The first lot hadn't done a damn thing to open his bracelet, and he could only surmise that when watered down with saliva it was less potent, which is why he needed obtain another sample. He had already smeared some of his own blood, courtesy of the split lip Giles had given him, on the vampire's bracelet, but again without success. He wasn't yet prepared to believe the problem lay in his falsely proclaimed feelings for the vile creature, at least until he had exhausted all other avenues.

"I love you, Tay," he said again, smearing more drooled blood on the surface of his bracelet. At least the vampire appeared to be out of it. The thing hadn't stirred in the slightest or made any aggressive move whatsoever. He knew it wasn't dead, because it hadn't turned to dust, but he had sincere doubts of its current mental state following Buffy's second attack with the Holy water, which as far as he could tell, had eaten away most of the soft tissue in the thing's hideously disfigured face. "I worship and adore you. Tell me you feel the same. Just a whisper, old chap. Please?"

"Why Ethan, I never knew," said a female voice.

He looked around, finding Buffy and Giles standing behind him, and pulled a sour face. "You'll notice I'm not laughing. In fact," he said, showing them his broken hand, which was already beet red and swelling badly, "I can't say I find any of this particularly amusing."

"It's not," Rupert told him, deadpan. "When you're on the receiving end."

Gritting his teeth at the extreme pain it cause simply to move his hand, Ethan motioned at the bracelet smeared with the vampire's blood. "Then help me get this bloody thing off!"

"We can't," Buffy said calmly. Off his glare, she added, "Hey, it's not our fault your feelings for each other aren't for real."

"By the wrath of Chaos," Ethan began heatedly. But he never finished the threat, because Giles grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall. The man's fingers callously dug into his windpipe, and as Ethan began to wheeze from lack of oxygen, he realized Ripper had just put in a much overdue appearance. He began to sweat, the agony from the sudden jolt to his broken hand expediting his body's natural responses.

"We only want one thing from you, Ethan."

"The key card," Buffy clarified. "Give it to us."

Despite the chokehold, Ethan smirked right in Giles' face. "Bugger you . . . old man."

Giles reached out with his free hand and grabbed Ethan's broken fingers, twisting them until he had elicited a howl so tortured it made even Buffy cringe.

"I don't have time to play games," Ripper hissed. "Believe me when I say it would be quicker to kill you."

Eyes bulging, having expelled his last breath on his scream, Ethan started to sputter.

"Giles," Buffy admonished, a warble of concern creeping into her tone. Why she should express concern over him was beyond Ethan's comprehension, although compassion for others always had been one of her failings. When Giles still didn't let up, she took matters into her own hands, pushing between them to frisk him.

Buffy's intrusion forced her Watcher to back off. Rupert didn't let go of his throat or his broken hand, but he did ease up enough for him to draw a little air into his lungs. Ethan gasped, turning the involuntary response into a moan of pleasure, as Buffy's hands began to move over him in a quick but methodical pattern. Noting how much this annoyed Rupert, he smirked, pretending to enjoy the attention, as her flattened palms moved lower to search the front pockets of his borrowed jeans. Maintaining eye contact with his adversary above her blonde head, Ethan raised a suggestive eyebrow, the expression for no reason other than to goad Rupert. She was his vulnerable spot, far more effective than any knee in the goolies would have been, and hurting him was something Ethan very much wanted to do at the moment.

Finding what she wanted, Buffy slid her hand into his pocket, and Ethan let out a little groan of unadulterated delight. In reality, the Slayer's touch did little to arouse him, but when Giles' eyes narrowed with pure spite, he knew he had successfully scored a victory point. It was even worth the payback squeeze to his broken fingers.

"Got it," Buffy announced, holding up the plastic key card.

Ripper thumped the back of Ethan's head against the wall for good measure, making him see stars, before he released his chokehold and turned with her to leave.

"Slayer . . . " Sensing her presence, the insane vampire was suddenly on its feet. It swooped on her from behind, tackling her to the floor and clumsily falling on top. They both slid across the polished bedchamber floorboards until momentum stopped them somewhere near the middle.

Grateful for release, Ethan cowered and leaned a shoulder against the wall for support. Nursing his hand, and trying to ignore the twitches coming from his bracelet, he watched Giles grab the vampire and haul the thing off his Slayer. Like a man possessed, he threw the creature fair across the bedchamber, demonstrating far more physical strength than Ethan would have thought him capable, especially after all he'd been through. So much for his respite; Ethan had to jump out of the way as the disfigured vamp plowed into the wall beside him, crumpling like a house of cards.

Looking over, he briefly caught Giles' eye. Noting the vampire did not get back up, the Watcher turned his complete attention to his Slayer. Picking up Buffy by elbow, Ethan heard Giles muttered something about not having time to deal with the vampire, then watched they two of them rush to the antique armoire. Ethan lost sight of them as they disappeared inside the huge double doors, but even from this distance, there was no mistaking the familiar soft beep of the key card being swiped.

They were leaving. A low, feral growl drew his undivided attention. Ethan's gaze swung back to the vampire slowly finding its feet beside him. Chaos knew, they were leaving him to fend for himself with a completely unstable vampire who wanted to rip his throat out!

"Sorcerer . . . I told you one day it would be just you and me."

"Oh crap!" Slowly backing away, Ethan began to chant. "I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you . . . " Eyes locked with the hideously burned, not to mention completely insane, monster before him, he frantically tugged at his bracelet. But it just wouldn't budge, no matter how many times he said it.

Drawing itself up to its full height, the vampire showed its fangs in a grotesque smile, the black, charred flesh around its mouth cracking and oozing foul smelling fluid. It cocked its head to one side, inspired by the false words of affection. "Then let's neck . . . lover."

It blew him a kiss, the one yellow eye that hadn't blistered out of its socket gleaming with unnatural desire. Ethan's eyes grew wide. He wasn't sure what terrified him most; the fact that this vile, repulsive creature intended to kill him, or that it wanted to shag him first.

When it lunged for his throat, he screamed like a woman.

* * *

Giles paused as Ethan's scream died behind him, but he didn't turn around. Descending the steep, spiral staircase inside the escape panel was like descending into the proverbial black pit, and with legs as unsteady as his were, he needed all his concentration just to maintain his footing.

Buffy, on the stair below him, glanced around and caught his eye. In the dim light, he motioned for her to keep going. Allowing himself to be distracted by a situation he already considered closed would only prove detrimental. Ethan could take care of himself, and if he couldn't . . . well, the man did have it coming.

They had left the armoire door open behind them, channeling as much of the weak bedchamber light as possible into the pitch-black staircase. While they could just barely discern the steps before them, what waited at the bottom remained a complete mystery. Giles wished he'd had the foresight to grab a torch from a wall mount, but there was no going back up now. Another delay would cost them their goal.

The narrow, iron staircase was a tight corkscrew descending at least two stories, and by the time their feet found level footing again, they were standing well below ground, under the lodge's brick and mortar foundations. It smelled musty and damp, with a wet cold that immediately seeped into his bones. In the light filtering down from the bedchamber, Giles could see that the passage had been toiled from the bedrock by nothing more than sweat and pain and muscle, its roughly hewn walls bearing marks made by pickaxes and shovels rather than modern tunneling equipment. Rough timber beams that did not even come close to building code shoaled it in a haphazard manner. 'Unsafe,' was the word that flittered though his mind, followed quickly by 'likely to collapse at any moment'. The escape route, he concluded, had been an afterthought rather than something part of the building's original design. And a rather shoddily constructed one at that.

He squinted into the blackness ahead. A pinpoint of weak light marked their destination, but making their way from Point A to Point B post haste was going to be difficult in the dark. The Xazax was a skilled huntress and, thinking of the covered pit, he was concerned with what traps she might have laid to prevent someone following.

The sharp crack of the armoire panel slamming shut made both him and Buffy jump. They whirled around as one, looking up. But their light source had been extinguished, and they found themselves staring into total darkness, as if they had been suddenly entombed, swallowed by the earth itself.

"Giles?"

"Right here," he said, reaching out to where he knew Buffy had been standing. He connected with her shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't move. Let your eyes adjust first."

"And then you can both give me a hand!" a voice called from the top of the spiral staircase.

'Ethan.'

The vampire chasing him thumped and kicked the other side of the closed panel, trying to break through, but the electronic lock held it back. For now.

Giles blinked as a tiny flame sparked into life above him. In the encompassing blackness, it had the intensity of a bonfire. Cigarette lighter in hand, Ethan slithered down the staircase to join them. But he jerked as he reached the bottom, dropping to his knees and crying out in pain. He may have escaped the vampire by shutting himself inside the secret panel, but he couldn't actually run very far away from it because of the shock bracelet on his wrist.

Giles wrested the lighter from his ex-friend's failing fingers and held it high, glaring.

"Help me!" Ethan begged, cradling his swollen hand. Still on his knees, he looked up, doing his best impersonation of pathetic. "Please!"

"We so don't have time for this," Buffy said. Annoyed, she turned and moved into the blackness ahead.

Above Giles and Ethan, wood splintered as a fist punched a hole through the door. A small circle of light spilled into the stairwell, the soft halo adding to the latter's terror.

"You're right," Giles agreed. "We don't have time for this." Pushing the taser into Ethan's good hand, he pulled away. "Good luck."

"Wait! You can't just leave me!" Ethan yelped, scrambling to his feet. He sent a nervous glance up the stairwell at the sound of the vampire continuing to tear down the door with its bare hands, then jerked again as his bracelet shocked him.

"Give me one good reason why not?"

Sweat beading his forehead, Ethan turned on at little charisma he could muster under present conditions. "Rupert, old man, you're not angry because of what happened upstairs, are you? I'm on your side!"

"You've betrayed us for the last time." Giles indicated the taser. "That's a better deal than you ever gave us."

"What, you actually believed that little charade?" Ethan casually blew it off. "I told you to follow my lead. You must admit, I was rather convincing."

Giles snorted in disbelief. Similarly exasperated and out of patience, Buffy turned and started down the dark passageway at a brisk, determined pace.

"You believe me, don't you?" Ethan turned his terrified gaze to Giles, gripping the sleeve of his borrowed shirt in an effort to stop him from following his Slayer. "For God's sake, don't leave me here! That bloody vampire will kill me!" He paled. "First . . . if I'm lucky."

The barricade at the top of the stairs finally gave way to the force of a boot. A swath of unobstructed torchlight flickered into the darkness again, the accompanying wooden fragments raining down the stairs making both men take defensive action. Giving up his hold on Giles' arm, Ethan raised his good hand to protect himself from the shards of falling debris, a move that allowed the Watcher to straighten.

"In that case," Giles said, paraphrasing, "I suggest you run." Pulling away with a Ripperish gleam in his eye, he hobbled after Buffy.

"I can't run!" Ethan called after him. "You know I can't go more than ten feet from the vampire because of the bloody bracelet! AHGEGH! See? Rupert? RUPERT!"

Reaching Buffy, Giles exchanged an even look with her. "Just desserts," he told her, then held the cigarette lighter above his head to light their way.

* * *

There was another steep spiral staircase at the other end, this one also bathed in light from a door left open above. This time it was weak sunlight filtering in, not torchlight, and the 'door' turned out to be a steel trap design, similar to a hinged manhole cover, in the cement floor at the back of the old shed. Reaching the top, Buffy kept low in the stairwell, hugging the last few steps as she surveyed the scene before her.

The shed, which sat outside the electrified fence several hundred yards from the hunting lodge, was no more than a twenty-by-twenty foot room of corrugated iron siding, too small to house the luxury jet from the mountain alpine elements, and too large for the single, rolling tool cart angled in one corner. Old newspapers, empty plastic oil containers, beer cans, and other garbage littered the stained concrete, suggesting the building was used for maintenance of the most basic sort.

The Xazax huntress lingered in the shadows near the open front door, watching, with effort, as her pilot readied her private jet for takeoff. At last, something in their favor, Buffy thought, relived to find the she-demon had not escaped despite Ethan's untimely interruption. From what she could make out from her present vantage, the pilot guy was busy pumping gas out of one of the rusty fuel drums into the plane's wing tanks, so Milady would not be going anywhere until that job was done.

"Hurry, you imbecile!" the Xazax called impatiently, one hand shading her delicate quicksilver eyes against the brutal onslaught of morning sunlight, the other modestly clutching closed the front of her silk wisp robe. "Or I'll have your head on a platter."

"What is it?" Giles quietly asked from his position on the spiral staircase, a step or two beneath her.

"Showtime," Buffy whispered back. Silently climbing out the stairwell, she positioned herself behind the Xazax, crossing her arms before she spoke. "What is it with you and heads on platters and plaques?" she asked aloud, pleased by the astonishment the demon huntress showed as she whirled around. "No wonder your marriage didn't work out. We humans don't like to be threatened with our lives every five minutes."

"Slayer."

"Bitch queen," Buffy returned pleasantly. Giles said the Xazax had a short fuse. Buffy added an insolent grin to her greeting, eager to test how short.

The Xazax glared, her eyes changing color, the insult taken. Still smiling, Buffy sensed Giles emerging from the stairwell behind her. Eyes locked with those of her opponent, she took a slow step to her right, which put her in a better position to keep an eye on her man's safety, if only in her peripheral vision. She saw him withdraw his water gun, but Buffy really hoped he wouldn't use it right away. The Xazzy she-devil was in line for some Slayer retribution first.

Milady looked from one to the other, then smirked. "Very impressive. The hunter becomes the hunted, however briefly. Well, it appears I have a moment or two to spare here, so I'm rather pleased to have the opportunity to kill you both before I leave."

Bringing up her fists, Buffy settled into a fighting stance. "Bring it on, lady. God knows, I'm just itchin' for a good chick fight."

"Buffy, be careful," Giles warned seriously, privy to information about the Xazax's superior strength and her own broken ribs. His fingers flexed eagerly around his squirt gun, but he needed to be a lot closer before he used it, its precious contents something he couldn't afford to waste.

Buffy tensed, ready for the silent bell to sound in her head and signal the start of Round One. But the completely unexpected sight of Ethan crawling frantically out of the trapdoor and scrambling, terrified, across the shed on his hands and knees was a major distraction.

"I will crush you like a bug," the demon huntress declared, unfazed. Taking advantage of Ethan's diversion, she pounced with all the grace and power of a panther.

From the corner of her eye, Buffy saw her coming but could do little to avoid her. The Xazax's hands latched around her throat and squeezed with enough crushing power to pulverize an ordinary human's spine. Buffy gasped, brought both arms up on the inside of her opponent's and pushed outwards in the standard maneuver to break a chokehold. But it wasn't as simple as it was with a vampire or other, less powerful demon, so she added the heel of her boot to the she-demon's unshod toes.

With a small cry of indignation rather than pain, Milady backed off, but it was enough to allow Buffy to follow on the attack. She grunted with effort as she landed several fists to the demon-supermodel face and torso, but quickly realized that Giles was right. The Xazax's stone constitution was no match for her supple flesh-and-blood blows. It was like pummeling a brick wall with her bare hands, and she quickly found herself with the bloodied knuckles to prove it. Likewise, kicking only added more bruises to her shins and legs, while doing absolutely zilch in the way of damage to her enemy.

Catching one such kick, Milady merely smiled, and tossed Buffy backwards with such force it felt like she'd been shot from a canon.

* * *

"Buffy!" Giles cried in alarm, as the Xazax effortlessly threw his Slayer into the wall. Much to his horror, Buffy went right through the tin siding, before landing on her back, in the sunlight, several yards beyond. Worse, she did not get back up.

With no idea if Buffy were merely winded, or if her broken ribs had finally punctured a lung and she now lay in agony just trying to breathe, Giles knew he couldn't help her until he finished what she started. He stepped forward to take her place in the fight, bringing his squirt gun to bear as the demon huntress turned her enraged quicksilver eyes on him.

Taking refuge in a disused corner, cradling his hand and no doubt wishing for the power of invisibility, Ethan shouted a warning that came just a few milliseconds too late.

Tay tackled Giles from behind, just as he was about to shoot. As a result, the water gun jolted from his grasp, as he went down beneath the burned and charred bulk of the vampire minion. Flat on his stomach and pinned by the vamp's inhuman strength, Giles' hand stretched longingly toward the plastic child's toy an arm length away, but his fingers still came up a half inch short of actually touching it.

The vampire straddling his back guffawed with the irrational glee of the completely insane, his objective at this point not to bite or kill, but seemingly just to stop Giles from getting to his feet.

Outside, the jet's turbine engines began a slow building whine into life. Noting this, Milady gave up all interest of dealing with Giles, and spun around in a whirlwind of satin and silk.

"Ethan! Stop her!"

Giles wasn't sure whether it was the command in his tone or his ex-friend's desire for revenge, only that he was grateful when Ethan reached out his good hand for the squirt gun. Springing up in a surprisingly agile move, Ethan stopped the Xazax's hurried departure by stepping into her path, the plastic gun aimed at her head. Restrained by the insane vampire, Giles could do little but watch events unfold before him.

Milady favored Ethan with an impatient look. "Holy water is for vampires, sorcerer," she said assumingly.

"I know," he returned levelly. "See, I'm not the berk you think I am. I know what seawater does to you."

Taking a second look at the squirt gun and deciding he was serious, the Xazax's anger transformed one of her most alluring smiles.

"Then join me," she said.

Ethan lowered the aim of the squirt gun a little, making Giles grit his teeth. "You're offering me power? Even after all this?"

"I'm offering you a place at my side."

"I assume by that you mean horizontally, as well as vertically."

Thinking she had scored a point, she turned on the seduction. "We shall be lovers every night. You will be my favorite consort."

"In that case . . . " Expression turning ruthlessly cold, Ethan raised the water pistol and fired a stream of saltwater directly into her eyes.

The Xazax screamed, burying her face in her hands and dropping to her knees as the saltwater ate though her velvety flesh like acid.

"Power and money, I would have accepted," Ethan told her. "Unlimited abuse by you, I'd be dead in a week. Milady."

Stirred by the mention of her name, Tay's mirthless laughter abruptly ceased as some semblance of reality kicked back in. He straightened, but remained sitting astride Giles' back with enough bulk and muscle to hold down the weary Watcher with one hand. Before he could rise to aid his screaming mistress, a flying piece of tin, thrown like a deadly Frisbee, cleaved his grotesque head right off his shoulders.

Face down, Giles closed his eyes at the shower of vampire dust that rained all over him, opening them again at the sound of the silver shock bracelet landing on the cement with a metallic clatter. He reached out to grab it, just as Buffy appeared at his side and helped him stand.

"Are you all right?" they asked each other at the same time. The Xazax's blood-curdling shriek drew their attentions before either could answer.

Ethan continued to squirt saltwater at the she-demon, looking appalled, frightened, and most of all, vengeful. When finally the liquid ammo ran dry, he threw the thing at her as she writhed in an agonized ball at his feet. Giles thought he might have even taken to trying to throttle her with his bare hands, had one not been so badly broken in so many places. Instead, he just stood and watched her die.

Together, Giles and Buffy went to Ethan's side. The three of them watched in horrified fascination, as the mighty Xazax huntress was defeated with a child's toy and a few ounces of salt and water. Even more appalling than the burns inflicted on a vampire by Holy water, she appeared to be . . . melting.

The saltwater bubbled and ran down her face in thick, viscous tears, causing deep incisions in her velvety, chocolate skin before carving into the stone beneath. Wherever the dribbling water touched, it caused a similar reaction, until great chunks of her weaken flesh began to drip away. These, in turn, contacted other places, beginning a chain reaction that quickly spread the infection over her entire body. Wet, sandy puddles grew, large and formless, on the dirty concrete floor beneath her, like a magnificent sand sculpture disintegrating with the incoming tide. Even with this little salt, her silicone-based constitution was suffering breakdown on the cellular level.

Feeling pity despite himself, Giles lowered his gaze . . . and completely missed the Xazax rise to her feet with a screech so distorted by her dissolved vocal cords it did not even sound to have come from a living thing. Sending all three reluctant allies toppling with a single swat of a stubbed stone limb, she lumbered toward the door of the shed, leaving gooey sand mounds in her wake. So twisted and distorted by the meltdown, her once voluptuous body now bore little resemblance to its former glory.

Buffy was on her feet first, determined to slay the demon. Reaching the rectangle of sunlight spilling through the door, the Xazax stumbled in its brightness and fell, losing a good portion of her liquefied leg in the process. Buffy delivered a roundhouse kick to the back of her head, hoping to faze her, but ended up more surprised than anyone when her connecting foot cracked her skull like it was made of eggshell. The blob that had once been the she-demon crumpled, her outer layer of chocolate-colored skin finally splitting wide open, and allowing her softened center to ooze out over the shed's concrete floor.

Laboring to pick himself up, his entire body aching from fatigue and exertion but kept mobile by adrenaline, Giles limped across to where his Slayer stood triumphant. He put his hand on her shoulder, showing his support and pride for another job well done.

After a moment, Buffy looked up from the sickly yellow and white goop on the floor, turning to him with a disgusted grimace. "Ergh. I don't think I'm gonna ever eat another Cadbury Crème Egg as long as I live!"

With a small smile, Giles touched a loving hand to her bruised but beautiful face, happy to see her victorious, grateful to see her relatively unscathed. She smiled as his fingers brush the hair from her cheek, covering his hand with her own.

"Well, that was . . . not what I expected," Ethan admitted, joining them, his broken hand tucked protectively under his arm.

"Is she dead?" asked a man's hopeful voice.

The three looked toward the open shed door, where Milady's human pilot hesitated to enter. From his body language, Giles knew the man posed no threat, that he was as much a victim in the Xazax's game as they were, and just as relieved by her demise.

Nodding, Giles answered him. "She is. It's over." There was, of course, one final loose end to tie up before it was truly over, but the disposal of the vampires and demons within the lodge was easily achieved with Buffy's earlier suggestion. A fuel barrel with a flaming oil-soaked rag and the slope with which to roll it toward the lodge through the opened gates would take care of things quite nicely.

"Good, I wasn't sure how much longer I could stall." Still cautious, the pilot ventured a few steps inside, but stopped again as he spied what was left of the Xazax. He pulled a face, shrugged, then looked up at them. "So . . . any of you good people need a ride? I got cellphones on board, too, if you need to call anyone. God knows, my wife is going to wonder where I've been!"

Buffy slid her arm around Giles' waist. Favoring him with a cheeky smile, she said, "Technology. Gotta love it."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, Giles returned her infectious grin. "Actually, I think I've had enough technology to last me quite a while, thank you." Drawing her close, he planted an impulsive kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, her surprise quickly turning to delight.

"Oh, please," Ethan complained about their show of affection. "If you two are going to be like this the entire flight home, then I think I'm going to be sick."

Giles shot him a raised eyebrow that quite clearly said if he didn't like it, he could walk. Ethan glumly backed down. Not that he would ever admit it aloud, but Giles was a tad proud of his old friend too, who had really come through in the end. Of course, it did nothing to wipe his slate clean of all his other nefarious deeds and double crosses, but for the moment, in light of the outcome, Giles was willing to overlook the man's many shortcomings.

Tossing Tay's shock bracelet to him, the mate for the one still around Ethan's wrist, Giles turned his complete attention back to the young woman who was his world. Arm in arm, they followed the pilot out into the bright, morning sunshine.

"Seriously though, Rupert . . . do you have any idea how I can get this bloody thing off?"

Buffy and Giles just laughed.

Together.