Infernal AffairsTeaser

Story by Zahir al DaoudWritten by Zahir al Daoud, Chris Cook and CN Winters

Directed by CN WintersProduced by CN Winters

Edited by DragonWriter17Sound by CSR

Art Direction by Chris CookArtists – Chris Cook, Zahir al Daoud, Robert Kidman, Sarah and Humaira

 (Note: Due to the uniqueness of WaTchers we ask that you use these for your personal use only. Please do not post them to other sites on the web. Thanks!)

Fade in:Int.Watchers Council – Infirmary Waiting Room – Night

A crowd stood in the waiting room, extending out into the hallway. Giles, Robin, Kennedy, Willow, Rowena, Xander, Andrew, Jeff, Brell and so on—watchers, slayers, coven members, friends, and family. Besides the ticking of the wall clock, there was only the faint sound of feet shuffling as they waited.

All eyes turned to the examination room door as Dr. Miller emerged, wiping his forehead.

"Doctor, is she—" half a dozen voices said nearly at once.

"Resting," Miller replied, holding up his hands to stem the tide of anxious onlookers. "Her injuries are extensive, but nothing that won’t heal."

Several of the crowd retreated to the corners of the room, where they relayed the news via cell phones to others whose duties kept them from attending in person.

"What did they do to her?" Robin demanded.

Miller sighed. "It’s difficult to say, exactly. She has a curious skin irritation, which I believe is a product of being…‘absorbed’ by this demon Miss Rosenberg mentioned. It will pass. She has a stunning collection of bruises, abrasions, cracked and broken bones, some internal bleeding, all of which seems very recent, taken during her escape, I imagine. I don’t believe she was physically

abused during her incarceration, though. She’ll recover physically. Mentally though..." Dr. Miller let the sentence hang for a moment.

"Can I see her?" Robin asked, breaking the silence.

Miller considered this, then nodded. "She’s asleep," he warned. "I’ve got her sedated while her body heals, so she won’t wake up."

"Understood," Robin nodded. "I just…I’d like to see her."

"She’s in room three."

Robin hurried out of the waiting room, while Giles turned to the doctor.

"Are you sure it’s her?" he asked in a low voice.

"I’ve compared x-rays and ultrasounds with the shapeshifter corpse," Miller said. "I’m confident this is the real Faith. Or if it’s a copy, it’s not the same kind as the one we had, and it’s even more faultless. But I can’t see how that’s possible. Unless I find evidence to the contrary, I’d say it’s her."

"Is there any physical indication of how long she’s been…away?" Giles went on.

"I can’t say," Miller replied. "I have no familiarity with the effects of this Chrysalid creature. She may have been absorbed for less than a day, or weeks. I simply have no way of knowing."

"There’s nothing in the library with that kind of medical detail," Willow supplied glumly.

"I suppose we’ll just have to ask her when she wakes up," Miller concluded. "Mister…Brell?" he added.

"Brell, yes," Brell said, approaching the doctor.

"During my examination I saw indications that she’d been treated magically, her condition stabilized, at least long enough to get her here. Was that your work?"

"No," Brell said, shaking his head. "Demon friends do magic, Faith very badly hurt. Not know humans, but do magic to keep body from changing, becoming worse. Was right?"

"I’d hazard a guess it was," Miller said. "Under the circumstances. Thank them for me."

"For all of us," Giles added, as Miller left to attend to his work.

"Creed, and many demons with him, not like humans," Brell said quietly, "but saw Faith fighting in Presidium stronghold. Respect her now, as warrior. Red Witch, Brell have artifact for you, sent by Creed. Needs magic to work. Brell cannot understand."

"Okay," Willow nodded. "We’ll…aw geez," she yawned. "All right, I’ll take a look at it now. We’ll see if it can wait until morning. It’s been a long day."

"Count yourself lucky you don’t have to write up reports for our friends in city hall," Giles lamented.

Willow winced. "Yuck. Want some help?"

"No, no, you get some rest. Normally Robin would handle this, but…not now. He’s had a longer day than any of us. I only hope nothing else crops up."

Fade to:Int.St. Josephine's Hospital Waiting Room – Night

One figure stood in the waiting room, staring out the window at the thunderstorm raging outdoors. The room itself was very modern...all rounded edges and pale pastels. Florescent lights in the ceiling illuminated the tan carpet, or did when they were all engaged. Tonight, someone had turned them off. An ambient glow from the hallway joined with the moving light from a television screen to provide what little illumination existed—save for those moments when lightning flashed across the sky and the windows let those flashes create brief, stark shadows across the room.

The television provided a little sound. Its volume control was tuned very low indeed. Still, a few words were audible. "What a lovely day for an exorcism," growled the raspy voice from a sick little girl on the screen. A pair of priests in the full regalia of the church approached her bed.

But the one lone figure seemed not to listen. He stared out at the rain and thunderstorm, not moving, not even blinking his violet eyes. Yet something about the way he stood conveyed tension, waiting. Even had he not been lean, with a vaguely feminine and saturnine cast to his features, the way he stood and stared would have seemed catlike.

Predatory.

Maybe it was sensing that which made the doctor entering the room hesitate. Or perhaps it was some mild phobia of the dark or of lightning.

"Mr. ...Dorian?"

The man at the window did not turn around. He did, however, alter his gaze. Now he looked at the doctor’s reflection in the glass.

"Yes?"

"You are Miss Bujold’s...?"

"Her partner," said Dorian.

The doctor walked towards him. Not all the way to his side, but closing the distance between them by more than two thirds. Enough to speak quietly and still be heard. "Miss Bujold..." he began.

"Alyssa."

"Yes, Alyssa." Now the doctor sighed. "As you know, Mr. Dorian..."

He was interrupted again. "Not Mister. Just Dorian."

The doctor took this in. "Well, the labor was very premature. Alyssa was only halfway through her second trimester. And we all thought this must be a case of multiple births, given her size. You recall our asking you about fertility drugs?"

"I recall."

"Well, there was only one. And that one was...well, large. Larger than some full-term newborns I have seen. Offhand I have no explanation for that anomaly, although in and of itself that may hold the key to the early onset of labor. More importantly, the baby was...the baby suffered from several congenital defects that were immediately apparent. Extreme measures were called for and utilized. I am very sorry to have to tell you those measures were to no avail." He said this last part lowly but distinctly.

Now Dorian turned. His violet eyes nearly made the doctor do a take, not only for their color but also for the pain in them.

"Dorian, we are all so very sorry..."

In a startlingly fluid motion, Dorian stepped past the doctor and reached out to one of the chairs in the waiting room. This chair was heavy, a cumbersome thing designed to remain precisely where placed. Bottom-heavy, lacking arms, somewhat low to the ground, it should have budged only with difficulty. Dorian should not in theory have been able to lift it so easily. Nor should he have been physically capable of turning around so quickly carrying such a burden, lifting it over his head as he did so.

"No!" The word escaped the doctor's lips as he found himself diving to the side.

Without speaking, Dorian hurled the chair at the window. The glass was thick, so it only cracked, and the chair itself rebounded back into the room.

The doctor gaped from the floor. He continued to gape as Dorian turned in one motion to pick up another of the awkward, supposedly difficult-to-move chairs. With little or no difficulty he lifted this one as well. His face was a rictus of pain, of rage, and those violet eyes seemed on the verge of tears. Dorian turned those eyes to the television set.

On the screen, the elder of the two priests peered through his glasses and spoke. Mist formed with his words. "It is the power of Christ that compels you! It is the power of Christ that compels you! It is the power of...!"

The chair smashed into the television screen before the next words were said. Sparks flew, and as if in sympathy, another jagged dance of lightning went across the Cleveland sky, casting Dorian’s shadow across the far wall.

For a moment, that shadow appeared bestial, not unlike a wingless gargoyle. From his place on the floor, the doctor stared, repulsed and fascinated. When Dorian turned to look at him, the eyes seemed almost luminescent.

He cowered, flinching away. But when nothing happened save the sound of thunder rolling in from the storm outside, the doctor looked again.

Now, the waiting room was empty. Dorian was gone, although the destruction left behind bore witness to his past presence.

Moments later, a security guard rushed into the waiting room, hand on his weapon. He found the doctor still on the floor, still staring at the place where Dorian had been.

"Dr. Baker? You okay?"

In answer, Baker slowly stood up. He seemed to do so with little or no difficulty. "Fine," he said. "I’m fine."

The guard looked at the room. Two chairs moved. One window cracked. Smoke rising from the wrecked television, where a chair was embedded. "What happened?"

Before Dr. Baker could reply, a nurse rushed into the waiting room.

"Alyssa Bujold is in cardiac arrest!"

Dr. Baker hurried to follow the nurse out of the waiting room.

Fade out.

End of Teaser

Act OneWith Felicia Day as Vi, Norika Fujiwara as Mia, Stephanie March as bonnie, Lindsay Felton as Skye, Alicia Silverstone as Heli and Elijah Wood as Jeff

Guest Staring Rose McGowan as Dorian and Jonathan Rhys Myers as Dorian

Fade in:Int.Watchers Council – Infirmary – Morning

Willow peeked into Faith’s room and quietly approached the bed, looking fondly at the sleeping woman. She jumped at a sound from behind her, whirled around, then relaxed at seeing Robin stirring in the room’s single chair, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, crouching beside his chair. "Been here all night?"

"Yuh," he slurred, shaking his head to wake himself up. "Didn’t…seem like much point in going back to the apartment. I wouldn’t have slept well anyway." He got slowly to his feet and stretched, wincing.

"Though maybe fewer sore muscles?" Willow said with a faint grin.

"Hindsight, huh?" Robin agreed. He looked at Faith and seemed lost in thought.

"I’ll come back later," Willow decided.

"No, it’s no trouble," Robin protested, keeping his voice down. "What were you after?"

"Oh, nothing much," Willow said, as she and Robin moved to the corner of the room to converse without risking disturbing Faith. "I was just going to ask you if it’d be okay to do a quick ritual, while she’s asleep. I’ve got the coven working on a detection spell for the…things like the one that replaced her. It's not practical to x-ray everyone who comes into the building. A-And some people like Becca we can't, with the baby and all I mean."

"I suppose so," Robin answered.

"It won’t affect her at all," Willow reassured him. "It’s just a sensor spell. I thought it might be better to do it while she’s sound asleep, rather than later. She was a-a bit on edge, so having spells done next to her might be a bit uncomfortable. Given what she’s been through," she finished nervously, glancing hesitantly at Robin.

"Yeah," Robin agreed. "That’s probably a good idea. How are things going with you guys?"

"Oh, so-so," Willow waved a hand vaguely. "Jeff’s a bit distracted. He, um…what happened last night, when she came back, as it turned out, that was pretty close to something he foresaw when we tried a seer spell earlier in the day. It wasn’t enough to help, but he’s all enthused."

"Kids these days," Robin mused, with the ghost of a smile.

"No respect for their elders," Willow added in a grandmotherish voice. "Actually, he’s okay. It’s good enthusiasm, not scary I-gotta-master-this-right-now enthusiasm."

"So...we could have a bona fide fortuneteller on our hands?" Robin asked.

"He’s got the power. And the aptitude, by the looks of things. This spell he did when I w-was missing…it’s something he’s been interested in for a while." Willow paused and stared gloomily at Faith.

"So what’s the problem?"

"I worry about him," she admitted. "Seer magic’s powerful, not in a blow-stuff-up way, but in a subtle way. Knowing what’s about to happen, being able to prepare for bad stuff, or even stop it from happening—there have been plenty of witches and sorcerers who’ve gotten, well, lost in it. Trying to know the future one hundred percent...it’s dangerous. Sometimes people spend so much time watching for things to happen that they stop living. Sorry, I’m geeking out," she interrupted herself.

"It’s okay," Robin smiled. "I could do with something else to think about at the moment."

"It’s all probabilities," Willow explained. "I mean, if you pick up a-a vase of flowers," she decided as her eye lit on the vase on the table near Faith’s bed, "and let go of it, you can reasonably surmise that it’s going to drop. That’s the simplest example. But seer magic is just that kind of prediction on a massive scale. You spread your awareness of things as far as you can until you…sort of see the patterns, the trends, what’s likely versus what’s unlikely. But being right all the time, well, that’s next to impossible. There are just too many variables. There’re records of mages literally driving themselves insane trying. And you know Jeff... whatever he fixates on, it’s like the only thing in the universe for him."

"Well, I was a teenager myself once with a fixation," Robin admitted. "But I had the helping hand of a watcher. And Jeff’s got you to guide him. Sounds like you know your stuff with this seer magic."

"Oh, well, I did some pretty extensive research on prescience, after what happened with Xander’s eye. I wanted to make sure—" She stopped, as Robin frowned. "What?"

"Xander," he replied. "He and I…yesterday, before we found out that that thing wasn’t Faith, I…I was upset, and he was trying to calm me down, and…I blew up pretty badly."

"Xander’s a pretty forgiving guy," Willow said gently.

"He deserves an apology," Robin said guiltily. "Do you know where he is?"

"Out. I saw him at breakfast. He said he was going shopping. Something about a penguin costume," she frowned in confusion.

Cut to:Int.Connery Formal Wear – Day

Almost a dozen male mannequins stood posed around the store. In between them, scattered like flowers in a field, were coat racks and displays of tie/cummerbund combinations, samples of linings and a rather wide variety of suspenders. Along one wall were hats—bowlers and top hats mostly—in a range of subdued but vibrant hues.

Vi grinned slightly at the displays as she entered. At her side, Xander moved his eyebrows into an inverted V. "Wow" was his half-breathed remark.

"These are gorgeous!" Vi offered, immediately looking at the nearest mannequin. The suit was basic black, but the vest and tie were a burgundy paisley.

"Uh, not exactly ‘me,’ I think," said Xander. "Unless ‘me’ turned into Hercule Poirot while my back was turned. Which is possible, I suppose."

"Stranger things have happened," she said.

He nodded. "This week for sure."

At that, Vi grinned. Then she began browsing along the wall, Xander in tow. She reached a full-length mirror next to a coat rack. A young man was holding a coat with lavender lapels before him as he looked into the mirror. Vi raised an eyebrow.

"Bold," she chuckled.

The young man turned to her and smiled. He was tall, with dark hair. His features were strong, almost feline, yet oddly delicate.

Vi blinked as his eyes rested on her. "But…it matches your eyes."

"True enough," he agreed, smiling. His tenor voice had a husky quality.

"So, Vi," Xander called out. He was at another mirror a few feet away, practically nose against the glass. "You think I should grow a moustache? Go the whole Belgian Detective route? Ze leetle gray cells?" His French accent sounded suspiciously like Pepe Le Pew.

Giggling, Vi stepped to Xander’s side. She looked into the mirror at his face and tilted her head. "You know, if you did grow a cookie duster…"

"Yes?"

"I think you’d kinda look like…oh, who was it?"

"Magnum, P.I.? Doc Holliday? Fu Manchu?"

"No. Somebody real."

"Clark Gable? Vincent Price? David Niven, maybe? Just don’t say John Waters, that’s all I ask, because then my whole sense of myself as a masculine organism…"

She slapped his arm.

"Ow! Watch it! Slayer strength!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Don’t be a baby."

From a few yards away, the young man with violet eyes did a small take. He looked at Vi and Xander, his gaze traveling up and down their forms. From his expression, he liked what he saw.

"There was a movie about him," Vi was saying, "and Eric Roberts played him."

Xander considered this, looking in the mirror. "I could live with Eric Roberts."

"The movie about that Playboy playmate? And her ex-husband killed her with a shotgun? That guy."

He looked at her. "You’re saying I look like a guy who got so obsessed with his girlfriend that he killed her rather than let her go?"

"Well, with a moustache…"

"Cool!"

She slapped him.

"And again—Ow!"

The young man with violet eyes stifled a grin.

Xander headed to another part of the store. "Actually, it isn’t a tux I’m after. Just a really nice suit."

"I was gonna say, don’t you have a tux from Giles’s wedding?"

"What? I’m not the kind of guy to maybe have more than one tuxedo in his closet? Okay, don’t answer that. The fact is, what I’m after is less James Bond and more…I dunno…"

"Lord Peter Whimsy?"

"Um…a little less gay."

"He was not gay!"

"Maybe, but his tailor was. I’ll bet money. Besides, I’d look silly in a monocle."

"Doesn’t everyone? Although—Giles could probably carry it off."

"True enough. And maybe Willow."

Vi nodded in agreement. "Maybe."

With a deep breath, Xander continued down the rows of suits. Vi followed. "According to my sister," Vi said, "people are either blue or red. They look good in either shades of blue or shades of red. Grays are blue. Browns are red."

"Greens?"

"Blue."

"So, am I a sad and mopey kinda guy? Or some kind of fashion communist?"

"Communist. Definitely."

He snickered, continuing to walk down the aisle. "I’ll have to mention that to Alex. This thing she wants me to escort her to is nothing but high-priced lawyers and their clients. The spiritual brethren of Daddy Warbucks and Ebeneezer Scrooge." He

adopted a mock Russian accent. "But I shall be agitating for the glorious people’s revolution within their midst!" Xander turned and noticed for the first time Vi had stopped following. "What?"

"Alex?"

"Yeah. What about her?"

"You asked me out to help you shop for something to wear when you take her out?" Vi’s voice had dropped over twenty degrees. Her eyebrows nearly touched her hairline.

"Well…I wanted your advice."

She opened her mouth to say something, then didn’t. "No, you don’t. Trust me." She turned and headed out the door.

"Vi! Look—I’m sorry! Vi?"

The young man with violet eyes watched all this from behind another rack of suits. Now, he slipped into a changing room as swiftly as a cat.

Cut to:Int.Connery Formal Wear – Changing Room – Seconds Later

The young man looked into the mirror. He concentrated. Then…he changed.

His jaw line softened. Nose narrowed. Lips reshaped themselves while the brow retreated further into his head. Short dark hair swelled and became long dark hair. Bones under the skin assumed a more delicate shape, while the texture of that skin smoothed.

Nor were these changes reserved to the face. His hands became narrower, as did his waist. The hips expanded, while both breasts grew.

It hardly took more than three seconds at the most. The young woman with violet eyes looked into the mirror, seemingly satisfied, then slipped out of the changing room once more.

Cut to:Int.Connery Formal Wear – Same Time

"Hey! Vi!" Xander could see her storm away from where he now stood, at the front of the shop. Vi’s shape was making a beeline through the milling shoppers of the mall, not hesitating for a moment. "Damn."

"No offense," said a sultry contralto behind him, "but that did look a little unsubtle."

Xander turned, and the sharp retort on his lips—whatever it might have been—died when he saw who was speaking.

She was tall, although shorter than he was. Long dark hair. A figure with the kind of curves even a vaguely androgynous shirt and trousers could not hide. She was attractive. Very much so. She was also smiling at him, and her violet eyes twinkled.

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered.

"If you’re gonna have two or more girlfriends," she offered, "make sure they get along. Or don’t mention them in front of each other."

"But she’s not…actually, they’re not. My girlfriends, I mean. I don’t have…well, the point is, we’re just friends is all."

The young woman tilted her head to one side, an inviting hint of a smile on her face. "You don’t have a girlfriend? Why?" This last part was said along with an appreciative sweep of her eyes down then up Xander’s frame.

He didn’t answer at first. "Long story," he finally said.

She stepped closer. "All the interesting stories are," she didn’t-quite-purr. "My name’s Dorian."

"Xander."

"That’s interesting."

"Short for Alexander."

"I figured."

"I figured you figured. I was just figuring on confirming your figuring."

She laughed. "So, Xander, still want some help shopping for a suit?"

Cut to:Int.Watchers Council – Council Meeting Room – Later

"I distinctly remember you saying ‘I hope nothing else crops up’," Willow said, glaring at Giles. "You know, if there was a ‘tempting fate’ spell, that would be the verbal component of it."

"Very well," Giles sighed. "I take full responsibility for causing this event, through some bizarre quirk of fate. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear to be world-threatening."

"What is it?" Ro asked.

"We’ve received reports near Youngstown of a creature of some kind attacking other animals. There hasn’t been a visual sighting as of yet, but claw and bite marks on the remains, as well as traces of claw marks in the ground, suggest that the attacker might not be of natural origin. A small team should suffice to investigate."

"You want us to what? Track a coyote?" Kennedy asked incredulously. "This sounds like a city animal control problem, Giles," she added.

"Perhaps," he agreed, "but this could be a good exercise for some of our trainees, except that under present circumstances, I believe we should limit active duty to those people who

have been conclusively proved to be who they appear to be. That being us." He glanced around the room at the assembled watchers and slayers – Willow, Rowena, Kennedy, Heli, Andrew, and Dawn.

"I’ve got Jeff at work on the changeling rituals," Willow said. "We should have something better than x-rays in a couple of days, a spot test and a standing spell to cover the building and grounds. But I really can’t spare him while we’re working. Dawnie, are you happy to go?"

"Huh? You bet," Dawn recovered from her surprise quickly. "Point me at the critter, and I’ll spell the heck out of it."

"This looks like it’ll be more along the lines of forensic rituals," Rowena commented, flipping through the files on the conference table. She turned to Giles. "I’m happy to lead. Sorry," she added to Willow.

"Duty calls," Willow said with a shrug. "I’m busy anyway. It’s not like I have time to go out."

"Heli will be our slayer?" Rowena asked Giles.

"Actually, I’d like Kennedy to accompany you," he replied, earning surprised looks from both slayers. "I believe she’ll offer the best chance to resolve this matter quickly, if force is required. And if you’re comfortable with the duty," he added to Heli, "I’d like you to get some experience at being patrol leader while Kennedy’s away. Vi will remain in charge as strike leader, and Mia’s team is available in case of emergency."

"I’m game," Heli said brightly.

"This latest crisis has shown the need to have as many slayers command-qualified as possible," Giles went on. "Best to get experience now, when the local demon population seems fairly quiet."

"Ah!" Willow warned, waving a finger at him.

"Yes, knocking wood," Giles added quickly, tapping his knuckles on the table. "Are there any other matters?"

"Um, one," Willow raised her hand. "Brell brought something with him from Vor, which I think is a demon-made variation on a gizmo the books call Van Horstmann’s Mirror. I’m splitting my time between working on it and helping Jeff with the changeling spells."

"It’s a communicator," Dawn supplied.

"In essence," Willow clarified. "It’s being temperamental, probably because of being here rather than in a hell dimension – the background magical presences are different. But the principle is sound, two mirrors are bonded, and then no matter where they are, if you look into one, you can see and hear what’s in front of the other."

"And the other is…?" Giles asked.

"In Vor," Willow said, "with the demons Brell’s been working with. At present, to get a message to them means sending someone, or doing a trans-dimensional spell, which you guys know takes time to get right, and it has to be redone from scratch each time. If this pans out, we could have real-time communication with whichever hell dimension the rebel demons are in, twenty-four hours a day."

"That would certainly facilitate matters," Giles nodded. "Well, keep at it. Meeting adjourned. I’ll be in my office."

"More paperwork from the Volano operation?" Rowena asked.

"You’d think the police wouldn’t mind having a crime syndicate dismantled," Heli commented.

"Practically speaking, they don’t," Giles said, "but various people, including some of our most high-ranking allies, are wary of the slayer-power we put into play. If they’re going to share the city with a group such as the Council, having seen how quickly we can overcome a force like Volano’s men, they would like to at least have very thorough reports on our procedures and activities. I can’t say as I blame them."

Cut to:Int.Willow’s Apartment – Living Room – Later

Willow had parked herself quite comfortably on her sofa. The catalog in her hands was open on her lap, her eyes roaming over its contents. One picture in particular seemed to hold her interest. She even turned the catalog to the side one way then the other. "I get it," she muttered, with a little smile. Then, a bigger one. A more wicked smile. "Has possibilities."

She turned the page. "Woah," she muttered to herself, looking at another picture. "That’s just too big. Way too big." She turned a page. "Way too small," she said, shaking her head. Before another page could be turned, someone knocked on the door.

At the sound of the knock, Willow’s eyes grew huge. She stared at the door as someone knocked again.

"Willow?" It was Vi’s voice.

"Just…just a second," said Willow as she pushed the catalog under the pillow of the sofa, hiding it from view. She stood up and rearranged the pillows, hiding the catalog further. "Be right there!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, Willow then stepped out of the way as Vi stormed into the room.

"Uh…what can I do for you?"

"What the hell is wrong with Xander? You checked him out, right? X-rayed him? Made sure he wasn’t some stupid-ass demon replica?"

Willow paused a moment to catch up to Vi’s tirade. "Xander?" She considered this for a moment. Then another. And another. "Yeah, he’s Xander but…here. Sit down. On the chair."

Vi did as she was asked, her brow furrowed in anger and her arms crossed. She didn’t even notice as Willow seated herself with some precision, back on the sofa.

"I cannot believe him!"

"Okay," Willow said, "calm down and tell me what he did this time. He did do something, right?"

"Yeah. He took me shopping."

Willow blinked. "That’s kinda not what I was expecting…"

"To get a suit for a date with Alex!"

"Ah!" Willow said as if that cleared up her confusion. Then "Oh," as the implications sank in. "Arghhh, Xander," she said with a cringe.

"So what the hell is the matter with him?"

At this, Willow sighed. "Would you believe it if I just told you he’s a guy?"

"No." Vi didn’t even blink.

"Okay," Willow paused, "this is really awkward ’cause Xander’s my oldest friend…"

"Does he really think he can treat people like this?" Vi asked.

"No!" Willow said instantly. "Not at all! But, well…it’s complicated."

"Just—" Vi hung her head a moment then looked back up. "Just tell me what’s going on."

At first, Willow said nothing. Then, she began. "You know how in school everybody tells you who you are?" Vi nodded. "And they don’t do it up front all the time? They tell you ‘Do this’ and ‘Do that’ and ‘Don’t even think about doing that.’ It’s like they know you’ll catch on if they just come out and say they’ve already decided on your whole identity. So, they do it in other ways. You know?"

"No," Vi answered with a confused look. "I didn’t understand a word you just said."

"Okay," Willow said, starting over. "Xander’s…well, for years he saw himself as a loser. Said he would never have a girlfriend or even a friend. And frankly, at home it was worse. Basically, all his life he’s had some pretty horrible examples when it came to relationships. So, it’s not like he got around to learning any real skills in that direction." Now Willow took a deep breath. "Plus, there was Anya. And Cordelia, come to think of it."

"Wait," said Vi. "Who’s Cordelia?"

"Oh. The Queen Bee at our high school. Mean, really. Well, not all the time. Just most of it. And when she got involved with the Scoobies, she did kinda treat us better. Again, sometimes. But she and Xander, they ended up having a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yeah, and Xander did something bad. Well, we did something bad together."

Now it was Vi who blinked. "You dated Xander? But…you’re gay."

"We didn’t exactly date. A-And the gay thing happened later, but that’s a whole 'nother story."

"So, what exactly is the point here?" Vi asked.

"My point is, Xander gets dumb sometimes and can’t make up his mind. He’s afraid of making the wrong choice, and in the end it backfires on him. So just try to stick it out. I mean…you do really like him, don’t you?"

Willow got no immediate answer. Instead, Vi chewed on her lip in thought.

Cut to:Int.Watchers Council – Giles’s Office – Day

Giles looked up at the sound of a knock. At the open door to Giles’s office stood Dr. Miller, file in hand.

"Yes? Is Faith—"

"I’m sorry, no. She’s still asleep, but I do expect a full recovery. Am I disturbing you?"

"No—just lots of paperwork, really. I could use a break." He gestured. "Have a seat."

The doctor strode inside, his face grim but uncertain. "I have a problem. Not myself, personally, but something that was brought to my attention by some colleagues. Quite frankly, two years ago I’d’ve called it a ghastly coincidence. Today, however…well, it might still be just that. But maybe not."

Leaning back, Giles slipped off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief. "Sounds fairly mysterious so far."

Before saying anything further, the doctor sat down and fingered the file in his hands. "This," he said, indicating the file, "was compiled from three different hospitals here in Cleveland. Maybe it is nothing, or it might go back further. Much further, perhaps. All these happened within the past year. Three pregnancies, all premature, all physically traumatic. One mother died. Another recovered, eventually, but is now unable to bear any children. The third, from just last week, is still in ICU. Each mother suffered massive hemorrhaging and a kind of infection no one has been able to pinpoint. Certainly, it resists antibiotics. And then…then, there were the babies." He fidgeted, again fingering the file.

Giles had by now donned his glasses again. "Tell me." Although kindly said, it was an order.

The doctor continued. "In all three cases, the baby was much larger than one would expect at seven months. Truthfully, they’d’ve been on the large side if carried to full term. All three were stillborn. But more than that, they were deformed. Rather extraordinarily."

He passed the file across the desk to Giles, who opened it. Within were photographs, paper-clipped to forms. Giles stared at the photographs.

"Good lord! Could this be the effects of radiation of some kind? Were any of these women employed in a place of high exposure like a hospital or perhaps a-a nuclear plant?" Giles asked.

"That was my first guess," continued the doctor, "but they were a waitress, a bank teller, and a midwife, respectively. When I found no connection to radiation, I did some digging and found another interesting fact."

"Such as?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, human infants can be born with vestigial tails. Not often but it happens. And while far less common but also possible, some of them have teeth at birth."

"Your point being, Doctor?" Giles prompted.

"Look closer at that one photo in particular," the doctor prompted.

Giles picked up a magnifying glass and examined the pictures closely. "These aren’t simply teeth."

"Exactly," the doctor replied. "The bicuspids are unusually…well-developed." He took a deep breath.

"These babies were born with fangs," Giles answered.

"And that’s the least of it," the doctor went on. "Further records show that these babies were completely hermaphroditic—again, not unheard of but extremely rare. And for three such infants to possess identical deformities, all born within a year of each other, and in the same city…Let’s just say the odds are less than astronomical."

The watcher looked up at him. "Yes, these…" He looked again at the photographs of small corpses. "These don’t appear to be human. At least not completely." He stared at them. "Hybrids, most likely. Half human—from the mothers presumably—and half…" He paused.

"Demon?"

"Some kind of demon. Most likely trying to reproduce, and so far, failing."

"Which means…" the doctor prompted.

"It will try again," Giles said grimly.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Later

Dorian and Xander swept inside the apartment, each with their arms full of groceries. "I’m telling you," the raven-haired woman with violet eyes was saying, "they’ll have your new suit ready in less than a week. Plenty of time!"

"Well, I bow to your expertise in such things."

"You’d better," she said with a cocked eyebrow.

"And where do I put these?"

"Follow me."

She headed for the dining room table with Xander on her heels. The apartment consisted of one large room—doubling as living room and dining room—but with plenty of doors leading to side-rooms. From the dining room table, a kitchen was plainly visible. Dorian planted her grocery bags onto the table, and Xander placed his next to hers.

"But," he said, "you really don’t have to make me brunch and all. I’m perfectly willing to take you out."

"That’s nice, but right now I want to make something for you." She began to pull things from her bag—a dozen eggs plus milk, for starters. "I make the most fantastic omelets, just you see. And I love to show off! So park it, and get ready to be amazed."

Obediently, with a grin, Xander sat at the table. He couldn’t help but look at some of the ingredients now piling up beside him as Dorian emptied her own bag. A couple were small packs of crushed herbs.

"Hecate’s crown," he read from one small package. "Moonslips?" He looked at Dorian, who smiled slightly. "I’m…uh…not trying to be rude or anything, but these kinda seem like the stuff you might use to…" He trailed off.

"To what?"

Xander shrugged in a too-nonchalant way. "Turn me into a bat, maybe? Or a lizard?"

With a smile, Dorian reached over to pick up the herbs. In a low voice she said, "Actually, they’re supposed to be an aphrodisiac." She remained leaning over, meeting Xander’s eyes. He blushed a little.

"Are they?" he managed to say calmly.

Dorian grinned. "We’ll have to find out, won’t we?"

With that, she straightened and walked into the kitchen, swinging her shapely hips with each step in a way that certainly had Xander’s full and undivided attention. From the way Dorian glanced back with a playful grin, this did not seem to displease her.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Kitchen – Moments Later

The kitchen was fairly large as well, although not as much as the main room. An island with cutting board and hanging pots lay in the center, and it was here that Dorian placed her ingredients.

"You just relax," she called out to Xander in the next room, "and I’ll take care of everything."

Next she opened a cabinet, removing two mixing bowls and a colander. Once these were on the island, she stepped up to what looked like a closet or cabinet. She stopped, then glanced at the door to the dining room. "You comfy in there?"

"I am the Zen of snugness right now!" came Xander’s reply.

Dorian giggled and opened the closet. Inside, pinned to the inside of both doors and to a large message board, were pictures. Dozens of them. Some were of men, others of women. Many were faded, having lost what color they once possessed. Others had always been black and white, but were now a faded yellow. Two were actual daguerreotypes, from a hundred years before. Dorian’s violet eyes swept over the little gallery, her face suddenly serious. She stared and stared and stared some more. A single tear began to gather in one eye.

"Dorian? You okay?"

Instantly, she turned towards the door and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Dorian?" Xander’s voice came from beyond the door.

Clearing her throat, she answered, "Fine. Just…cutting some onions is all." There was a catch in her voice. Then she picked up the Polaroid camera from just inside the cabinet. "Can I ask you a favor? Is it okay if I take your picture?"

"If my mug doesn’t break the lens!"

"Don’t say that," she replied smiling. "I think you’re actually quite handsome." Closing the closet door, she headed for the dining room, camera in hand.

Fade out.

End of Act One

Act Two Fade in:Int.Watchers Council – Library – Day

Jeff looked up from his book to see Giles and Dr. Miller enter. The former held a file folder in his hand, and both looked very focused.

"…almost certain it matched," Giles was saying. "Mind you, it was over fifteen years ago, and Winston just showed it to me in an effort to upset me."

"Did he succeed?"

"Overall? Yes." Giles headed into the stacks of books, in the direction of the personal diaries of past watchers. His voice muffled as he moved among the books. "But then, the whole book was quite…well, nauseating. Joshua Milnerson had a fascination with demon anatomy and drew quite vivid illustrations to make his point. He wanted to write a book on the subject."

Jeff stood up just as Dr. Miller also vanished into the stacks.

"That would make fascinating reading," Miller said, his voice now also muffled.

"Um…Mr. Giles?" Jeff said.

"I suppose it would, yes," Giles answered Miller’s question.

"Do you have a copy?" Miller asked.

"Mr. Giles?" Jeff repeated.

"Actually…Milnerson never wrote it," Giles answered Miller. "Turns out one of the demons he was attempting to dissect was not in fact dead. Not completely, anyway."

"Oh dear. That could be…"

"Yes," Giles agreed knowingly.

"Hard to blame the demon, though," Miller quipped.

"I suppose. Where the devil is it?" Giles said as he searched.

"Mr. Giles!" Jeff raised his voice.

With a sigh of exasperation, Giles stepped out from the book stacks. "I’m rather busy now, Jeff. What do you want?"

Jeff held up the book in his hand, cover out. It clearly read: The Diary of Joshua Milnerson, Esq.

Three full seconds later, Giles said "Oh."

"The changeling spell preparations are at the boil-ingredients-and-wait stage," Jeff explained. "Willow let me try another prescience ritual. I foresaw that this book would be needed sometime today. Not why, but I figured it’d save time to track it down in the stacks."

Miller, who by now had also emerged from the stacks, smiled at Jeff and said, "Thank you."

Giles gestured to the table, where Jeff obediently placed the book down. Giles opened the file, revealing some photographs. Then, he began flipping through the pages of the diary.

"I’m almost certain it is here," he muttered.

Jeff, meanwhile, moved around and was staring at the photographs.

"Oh my god," the young man breathed.

"Not pretty, I know," said Dr. Miller. "One of their mothers is dead, another is likely to be."

"Dead! Why?" Jeff asked. "What happened?"

"Evidently, bearing these creatures to term is dangerous. Often fatal."

"Found it!" said Giles suddenly. He slid the open page of the diary closer to the file’s photos and pointed. "You can see the similarities for yourself." He pointed to an elaborate anatomical drawing in the book.

Both Dr. Miller and Jeff leaned in for a better look. "More than similarities," noted the doctor. "For all practical purposes they are identical."

"Cloisterham, 1897" read Jeff aloud. "Offspring of the dreaded Succubea. Master Landless having died from the creature’s attentions, his bride Rosa departed life months later bringing forth this half-breed, which sapped her strength until at last she also died, and the thing within followed her to the grave." Jeff looked at Giles. "Succubea?"

Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them. "Yes, a kind of…well, a sexual predator." He coughed. "They have a parasitic method of reproduction. Being shapeshifters, they take on a female form to seduce men. In essence, they…draw out all the…um…seed. And then, taking a male form to seduce a woman, they use the stolen…genetic material…to impregnate her."

"But wouldn’t that just make a normal baby?" Jeff asked.

"No," Giles replied, "because it’s not just the human male’s genetic material alone. It also includes the demon’s as well."

"And this," the doctor indicated the pictures, both photographs and drawings, "is the result?"

"Yes, the pregnancies are nearly always fatal—for both partners. The Succubea literally drains them both of life, like a vampire, only not so quickly." Giles faltered, noting the expression on Jeff’s face—nearly a snarl.

"One of these things is in Cleveland!"

"Evidently. Yes."

"We’ve got to find it! Stop it!" Jeff replied.

"Yes. Of course. There is, however, a problem," Giles mentioned.

"What?" Miller and Jeff both asked at once.

"Finding it. The Succubea blends quite normally into the general population. It doesn’t feed on people, nor does it require any kind of specialized living environment—lack of sunlight, presence of warm water, an unusual diet. Nothing of that nature."

Jeff looked anything but pleased. "How do you kill it? Maybe that’d be a clue!"

"The same as a human being. Handy in the final confrontation, but useless in actually tracking down the creature."

"Mr. Giles," said Dr. Miller, "I’m entirely on the side of Jeff here. We need to discover this…Succubee? Succubay?"

"Succubea."

"We need to find it and stop it. Two women dead already, possibly more. From what this book says, at least as many men may have died as well!"

"Probably," Giles replied. "It takes time, but their male victims are eventually drained of all life, all vitality."

"So what can we do?" When Giles said nothing, the doctor insisted, "What can we—?"

"I don’t know," said Giles, interrupting him. "For the moment, little. Essentially, nothing. I’ll speak to Willow, however. She mentioned once an idea about searching public records for hints of great longevity. At the time we were talking about tracking down vampires, especially those who maintain a more-or-less human façade. This Succubea may have left the same kind of clues behind."

"What about a demon locator spell?" offered Jeff, eyes unblinking. "I’m sure I read about such somewhere. Willow even mentioned it."

"By all means," Giles nodded. "However, I’m bound to point out that any large city is likely to have a quite sizable demon population. And Cleveland has a hellmouth. Telling which of the thousands of demons is the Succubea…" His voice trailed off.

Jeff took this in. "We need something with this thing’s spoor, a psychic scent as it were."

Dr. Miller did a take. "I see at least one possibility."

"What?" Jeff asked.

He reached down and picked up one of the photographs. "This corpse. The one from last week. If it wasn’t cremated, it might help lead us." He barely hesitated but headed out the room. "I’ll let you know what I find out." The last words were cut off as he hurried out the door.

Alone together, Jeff and Giles looked at one another.

"I’ll start researching location spells," began Jeff.

"No."

"But Giles—you saw what that thing is doing! It’s killing people! Worse than killing them!"

"So are vampires," replied the older man. "So are a dozen predatory species within the Cleveland city limits alone. Your heart, Jeff, could not be in a better place. But to be effective requires far more than good intentions. I must insist you wait until the spell can be done under Willow’s supervision, with full participation of the Coven. I know you want to help," he continued more softly as Jeff began to breathe hard. "That you desire such is very much to your credit. Allow others to make sure your help is as effective as possible. I want your promise, Jeff."

After several moments, Jeff answered in a low voice. "I promise."

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Dining Room – Later

The fork speared the piece of omelet, then dipped the piece into a tiny bowl. Inside the bowl was a sauce that resembled honey, but was both darker and less viscous. With the sauce now on the piece of omelet, the fork journeyed across the short space of the dining room table…into Xander’s open mouth.

Xander began to chew. "You’re spoiling me," he said with a grin.

Dorian grinned back. "That didn’t sound like a complaint." She began to cut off another piece of omelet with her fork.

"Believe me, complaining was the furthest thing from my mind!"

"Good." She dipped the fork again, then lifted it. "Open."

Obediently, Xander opened his mouth and let Dorian put another bite into his mouth. The bit of omelet dropped, and he had to move quickly to catch it—a maneuver that won giggles from Dorian. Xander laughed as well, using his tongue to lick up traces of sauce from the side of his mouth.

"Go ahead, laugh," he said. "Not like I haven’t had beautiful women laugh at me before." That won another round of giggles. "Okay, maybe that didn’t come out right."

"It came out fine." Dorian looked at him for maybe a full five seconds, saying nothing. Then, she slipped out of her chair and moved closer to Xander. Her face moved very close to his, practically nose to nose.

"You missed some," she murmured. Then her tongue reached out to the side of his mouth, gently and slowly lapping away remnants of sauce.

Their eyes met. "An aphrodisiac, huh?"

"So my mother always said. What do you think?" Their voices were low.

"I’m not sure. I mean, is it the sauce, or is it you?"

Dorian grinned and moved closer. "Does it matter?"

That was when they entwined each other in a kiss.

Cut to:Int.Council Truck – Same Time

"If we’d left earlier we’d be there by now," Kennedy griped from the passenger seat.

"I wanted to make sure we had everything we might need," Rowena countered from the driver’s seat, not taking her eyes off the steep, winding road before her.

Dawn sat in between the two women, her eyes shifting slightly, but she didn’t dare move her head to look at either bickering woman.

"All we need is a map and a sword. How much time does that take to put together?" Kennedy countered.

"That’s all you need," Rowena replied. "I, on the other hand, must take a more scientific approach to this. We might need resources to know what we’re fighting."

"It’s a coyote," Kennedy muttered. "Classification: Four-legged canine."

Dawn tried to hold back a chuckle, and her shoulders rose and fell just twice before she put a serious expression on her face again, after Rowena shot her a disapproving glare.

"We don’t know that," Rowena answered, looking pointedly over at Kennedy.

"Keep your eyes on the road," the slayer told her. "I don’t feel like falling over the mountain cliff."

Rowena looked back to the road and pointed out the window. "Technically, these are just hills, not mountains."

Kennedy released a heavy sigh and shook her head. She mumbled to Dawn, "God, we’re in for a long night."

Dawn tried to stop herself from laughing again as Rowena now glared at both of them.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Bedroom – Later

Amid the shadows, movement was visible. Xander lay on his back, holding on both to his partner’s waist and to the headboard. Sweat glistened on his bare skin in the meager light. His breath was labored, punctuated by groans.

"God…" he sighed, eyes half-rolled back into his head. "God…" he repeated.

From atop, Dorian rocked in rhythm with Xander.

With nearly glazed eyes, Xander looked at the woman riding him, at the hungry expression her face, a face now focused entirely on him. His breathing grew more ragged the harder she rocked. And when she clasped both hands into his shoulders, practically digging her nails into his flesh, Xander moaned. Whether in pain or pleasure or some combination of both was impossible to say.

"Now…yes…" she whispered.

"Dorian…" he said, his words slurred.

"Come on…"

"Dorian…"

"Oh…yes! "

"Dorian…I…I…"

Xander groaned, and with a triumphant smile, Dorian leaned over, bringing her face close to Xander’s pale own. Both of them were shuddering. He simply let his body react, eyes nearly closed and lungs gasping for air. His arms fell to the side.

"Shhhh…" Dorian whispered. "It’s all right…all, all right…" she said in what became a purr.

After several long moments, Xander managed to say, "Whoa."

Dorian’s reply was a throaty chuckle. "Stay right where you are," she said, before using the tip of her tongue to trace a line across his throat.

"I ain’t going anywhere…" gasped Xander, his eyes barely open.

Slowly, Dorian righted herself from Xander, who almost moaned in protest. He didn’t have the strength for a full moan.

"You were marvelous," she murmured, wrapping a sheet around her naked form.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Dining Room – Later

Dorian had a man’s wallet open before her as she sat down and perused the contents. The Ohio driver’s license showed Xander mugging for his photograph. Various other pictures had been removed and were strewn around the table, but to the side as if they were unimportant.

But one picture she studied. She traced her fingers around its corners. She bent over to examine, her violet eyes bright with appreciation. Just a snapshot. Its very edges looked worn as if Xander had actually removed it many times from its plastic covering. Perhaps to do what Dorian did now—examine it in greater detail. A smile creased her lips as she gazed at the simple picture of Vi, grinning at the camera. The tip of one finger barely managed to trace the contours of Vi’s lips.

Then, Dorian picked up Xander’s cell phone. Looking at it, she again transformed. Her features reshaped themselves into slightly coarser ones—a heavier brow, stronger jaw. Her hair’s length receded. By the time Dorian began to punch some phone numbers from memory, he had become again a young man with violet eyes.

"Hello?" he said in a perfect copy of Xander’s own voice. "Vi? Listen—I just wanted to say I’m sorry…Yeah…No, never mind about Alex. If you want, I’ll cancel the whole thing. The fact is, I’d just rather go out with you. Provided, of course, you’re willing to give me a second chance? Okay, a fifth." Dorian smiled. "How about tonight?" he asked.

Fade out.

End of Act Two

Act Three 

Fade in:Int.Jeff’s Room – Late Afternoon

Jeff sat in a lotus position, his attention totally concentrated on the cloth before him. It was square, of red silk. Upon the square lay seven Kennedy half-dollars. As he stared at them, they flipped from ‘tails’ to ‘heads.’ Not all

at once, but in order from left to right. He took a deep breath, concentrated once more, and they flipped again—right to left this time.

Someone knocked at his door.

Looking up, Jeff did not hesitate. "Come in."

Giles opened the door and stepped inside. "I heard from Dr. Miller."

"And?"

"The corpse and materials from the surgery had all been incinerated." He paused. "I am sorry."

"No offense, Giles, but we’re not the ones who’re going to be sorry."

"Your heart is in the right place, as I’ve said before. But for the moment, all we can do is watch and wait. I’ll be giving a briefing to everyone tomorrow. And we can begin some research on the Succubea, try and pin down something that will help us track it down."

"Before some other girl dies," Jeff said, unblinking, with a slight edge in his voice.

"Before some other girl dies," agreed Giles. He scowled as his cell phone rang. "Sorry…blasted thing." Retreating to the doorway, he flipped the phone open.

"Hello…good. I’ll be there at once." He looked at Jeff, who was observing him curiously. "Faith’s awake."

Cut to:Int.Watchers Council – Infirmary – Moments Later

"Take it easy…there you go," Dr. Miller said, helping Faith sit upright.

"Get…wait, stop—" she pushed Miller away and tried to scramble out of bed, almost falling.

"You’re safe," Miller insisted, as Robin and Giles arrived in the doorway. Faith braced herself against the side of the bed with her hands raised protectively in front of herself, her wrists covered by leather straps.

"Faith, it’s okay, you’re home. We restrained you so that you won’t hurt yourself," Robin said, approaching slowly and crouching down. "We can take them off if you calm down."

"Nuh," she said indistinctly, "not again…not…" She blinked in confusion, then shook her head. "Where am I?"

"The infirmary," Robin replied soothingly. "You escaped from the Presidium, remember? Brell found you."

"I escaped," Faith muttered. "Are you sure? I don’t…where is she?"

"Who?" Robin asked, as Giles and Miller looked on, worried.

"She was there," Faith shook her head, "she’s…she got in my head. She made me see things. She…She knows everything. I…" Faith slumped slightly.

"Faith?" Robin started towards her but stopped himself. "Faith, I want to help. Will you let me?" She looked at him, confused, then her gaze moved to Giles, Miller, and Willow as she appeared from the waiting room outside.

"I need help," she said softly. Robin reached out a hand, and she took it, gingerly. At first she pulled back as her skin touched his, as if it burned, then she reconnected and gripped his hand firmly.

"Take off the restraints," Robin told Dr. Miller.

The doctor looked uncertain. "I’m not sure if that’s a good idea Rob—"

"Take ’em off," Robin said softly but more forcefully.

Without another argument, the doctor moved to Faith’s wrist.

Fade to:Int.Watchers Council – Council Meeting Room – Later

"We can do this later," Giles offered. "There’s no rush."

"My body’s fine," Faith insisted. "I can recover just as well here as in a bed. I need to do this. I need…I gotta put things on the table. I have to see it all laid out, so I can…so I know where I stand. That’s all."

"Very well," Giles conceded, "if you think that’s best. Start from the beginning. When did they take you?"

Faith began to answer, then paused and looked up, frowning. "What? You guys didn’t notice I was gone?" she asked.

Giles blinked at her, then Robin leaned forward. "They replaced you," he explained. "The demon that trapped you made a kind of copy. It looked like you, acted like you…we didn’t know. I didn’t know," he added, quietly.

Faith nodded automatically, though she was clearly still digesting what he had said. "I think…it was a few days before the wedding," she looked at Giles.

"My wedding?" he asked, surprised.

"It’s not easy to say," Faith went on. "When they had me, they…she put things in my head, places and people…sometimes it was like I was here, sometimes I was other places, or everything would be wrong. There were—" Faith shook her head. "It doesn’t matter. Guess it was just some kind of sick game. But I think…after Ken got back from Europe, before you guys got married, everything seemed normal. After that, what I remember isn’t…like it should be. Did you guys get married all right?"

"Yes," Giles nodded, "in Las Vegas, as it turned out."

Faith frowned. "Huh," she said. "I remember you guys being married here…and the wedding being called off, and…lots of different things. Illusions. I guess none of it was real…Hell, for all I know this isn’t real."

"I assure you, Faith, this is real," Giles answered.

"Would you be shocked to hear that’s not the first time I heard you say that these last few weeks?" Faith asked rhetorically.

Giles seemed at a loss for words, but Willow spoke up.

"The Chrysalid demon isn’t recorded as interfering in its captive’s thoughts," she said. "I’m not saying it doesn’t do that or that it didn’t happen to you," she added quickly. "Our records are sketchy is all."

Faith shook her head. "I remember this…this huge, fat thing. I couldn’t move, and there were demons carrying me, and they…well, it wasn’t a walk in the park," she scowled. "They put me inside it, and…I remember, though, it wasn’t the one that got into my head. That was her," she finished with disgust.

"You mentioned a she before," Robin offered gently. "Who is this…she?"

"It’s all mixed up," Faith said, frustrated. "You know how when you dream, it’s sometimes the most stupid stuff you could think of, but it seems real at the time? And then you wake up, and you’re like ‘what the heck was that about?’ It was like that. Everything was real, then and now…but I think maybe I did escape this time," she went on. "The thing was fading away, I could feel it…dying, I think. And…this, right here, right now, it feels…different…God, this probably doesn’t make any sense, does it?"

Giles gently put his hand up. "It’s okay, Faith. Just take your time. For the record your duplicate…gave itself away," Giles said carefully. "Our research indicated that when the duplicate died, the host would too."

"It did," Faith nodded. "It was stinking and rotting, and…suddenly it felt different. Like I wasn’t dreaming. I couldn’t think clearly, but I knew something was different. I knew that what I did, it counted again, I was in control. I fought out of it, and there were demons, and I…I just started fighting and didn’t stop. Tunnels, and a city, all full of demons."

"Brell said you were found in a Presidium city," Willow said. "They were hunting you. Brell and his friends got there in time, before they overwhelmed you."

"I remember big things, like dogs, all muscles and spikes…it was real. I’m pretty sure it was real, I mean. It wasn’t like before…but it was, the… where I was, when I got out, I remembered it, from when I’d been inside."

"When they first brought you there?"

"No," Faith shook her head, "no, that was outside, somewhere. There were times I was…it’s all a mess," she trailed off, holding her head.

"No hurry, Babe," Robin said soothingly. "You’re safe now, so you’ve got all the time you need."

"No!" Faith protested. "None of us are safe!"

"Faith, please calm down," Robin asked. "Look around. No one here is going to hurt you okay? And if you don’t calm down, we’ll have to ask Dr. Miller to give you something to make you calm. We don’t want that, all right?"

Faith took a deep breath and nodded. "Anyway, there were times when I was…in between the things they put in my head, when I was aware. Nothing was happening, but I was awake, and there weren’t any dreams. That’s when I could…I could feel her there, this presence, like she was part of me, or-or I

was part of her. I could do things and-and feel things I never could, not even… When things got really bad for me, even then I was never like that. But she was in my head, moving around. And I was kind of in hers, in a cage, but I could see out. I remember seeing the thing I was inside, the demon. They had these pipes, trickling water or something, to keep its skin wet, and there were demons around it, and…" She trailed off, lost in thought.

The group looked around at each other as if trying to compute what Faith was saying.

"They called me…her," Faith amended, " ‘Lover’. That was her name, the leader, the one in my head. She made me do things, made me feel things…it must’ve been her all along. All the dreams, she made me dream them, all of them." Her face hardened in loathing. "And when I was awake, I could feel her watching me, like she was…curious. Like I was some kind of rat in a maze, and she was watching me. Only the maze was killing and burning and everything was falling apart, all my… everything I love got torn apart over and over again, and she just watched. Saw how I reacted."

"The Presidium has powerful mages working for them," Willow suggested. "This Lover might be one of them. She might have formed a mental link with you," she addressed Faith, "to test you, or something, to see what you’d do."

"No, she wasn’t a servant," Faith insisted. "I could feel it, her mind…she never served anything. I think she was one of them. Like the Engineer. There were times she was so strong inside me I could almost see her…she looked like him."

"One of the Presidium itself?" Giles wondered.

"The Lover," Faith repeated. "Someone’s got a sick sense of humor…the things she put me through. There was this one time, I was in the basement with all these roaches, I was actually grateful for it—"

"When was that?" Robin asked, suddenly interested.

"Huh? Why?"

"Was Kennedy with you? And then Xander?" Robin persisted.

"I…yeah," Faith nodded. "Yeah, she was there…and Xander freaked, and we—"

"Stood on a crate together," Robin supplied. "And Ken got me, and…"

"You picked me up and carried me upstairs," Faith finished, frowning. "No, that’s wrong, I wasn’t…that was after they took me. I remember, that. I was freaked from the roaches, but inside I was so happy it wasn’t one of the times when—" Faith paused and took a breath. "Sometimes you’d all die…sometimes it was me. I don’t know why, but I’d just be killing everyone, and…I was so grateful when things seemed normal, even if it was just for a moment. I know that didn’t happen, with the roaches."

"It did," Willow added, "but it was the Changeling. The demon was using your mind to tell it how to behave, so maybe the link went both ways? You might have experienced things the Changeling saw and did, as you."

"You mean some of that was real?" Faith asked, looking nervous. "Wait… hell. What’s the worst thing that’s happened while I was gone? The absolute worst? Is Kennedy still human? Is Becca alive?" she began to ask quickly.

"Yes," Giles began. "Both are fine, Faith. In fact, the worst thing would be…" Giles let the sentence hang and looked at Willow.

"Shadow," Willow supplied. "Rack’s sister kidnapped me. She tried to force me to take dark magic, to use it…but Mia’s team found me," she swallowed.

"Damn," Faith lowered her head. "That was real, though?"

"As real as it gets," Willow nodded. "Apart from that, things have been routine enough…a demon at a sci-fi con, patrols have been regular, no one’s been badly hurt or killed."

"Thank god," Faith slumped in her chair. "For a moment…all the things I saw, if some of them were real… There were some bad ones. I’ll have to catch up. Figure out what’s real and what was from that bitch getting inside my head."

"Um," Willow started, worried, "uncomfortable idea forming…if Faith would experience what the Changeling did, maybe this Lover could too? You said there were times when you were awake, when you were aware of her and not dreaming, right?"

"Yeah," Faith replied.

"She could have been concentrating on the Changeling," Willow went on. "Maybe even guiding it, or at least influencing it, giving it instructions."

"We’ll review everything it did since it was put here," Giles said firmly. "I’ll draw up a schedule later tonight, and we can start a thorough review tomorrow. If we’ve been sabotaged somehow, we’ll find it." He turned to

Faith. "You can be involved, if you’d like…it may help you separate your experiences, to know what was real and what was illusion."

"I’ll do it," Faith said firmly.

"As for your patrol schedule—" Giles began.

"I’ll swing by the infirmary later," Faith interrupted, "and get checked out. I’ll go back on duty the moment I’m cleared."

"Are you sure?" Giles asked. "What you’ve been through was a terrible ordeal. You may need to heal more than your body."

"Physically, I’m fine," Faith insisted. "My mind is mine, I’ll fix it. I don’t need to be sitting around doing nothing right now. You know me well enough to know how much that won’t help."

"Yes," Giles conceded, "well, if you’re sure."

"I am," Faith nodded. "Just give me a few days."

"You’ll have more if you need it," Giles offered sympathetically. "So don’t push yourself, Faith. You’re still my best in the field, but your well-being means more to me."

"To all of us," Willow added.

For the first time, Faith managed a small grin.

Cut to:Int.Faith & Robin’s Apartment – Bedroom – Later

Faith approached her and Robin’s bed and sat down, gingerly.

"You know, one time," she said quietly, "it was one of those times when everything was normal for a bit, then…I lay down, and there was nothing under the sheets. I fell right through, and into this tunnel, like a well. Full of things, grabbing at me while I was falling…I mean, what the hell is that supposed to prove?" she burst out angrily, startling Robin as he sat beside her.

"It proves the Presidium is as twisted as we’d guessed," he suggested. "I don’t know why this Lover demon did what she did to you. I’m just glad you’re back."

"I’m glad I’m back," Faith said automatically, then she lay back and frowned. "I keep seeing things I dreamed…the patrol board, with the new schedule from last week…that stupid starship model Andrew put in the rec room…I remember it, and it’s real."

"Well, the starship model was real," Robin replied. "And rather stupid," he added with a slight grin.

Faith grinned back. "Where’s it now?" she asked.

"Willow forced Andy to put it in the garbage or his room," he replied. "He picked his room."

A comfortable silence passed between them again until Faith spoke.

"So I’m really home?"

Robin slowly moved his hand to her hair and began to smooth it back.

"You’re home. And I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it," he replied.

"I wish I could believe, but…it feels like I might still be there, and she might still be in here," she said, tapping her temple. "God, Robin…I’m afraid," she admitted, with difficulty.

"It’s okay to be afraid," Robin said gently.

"Not like this," Faith insisted. "Not like…I’m afraid of everything…of you, even. I shouldn’t be afraid of you."

"It’s understandable," Robin sighed.

"Not to me," Faith said, sitting up. "Not like this. No. I just got back from hell, alive. You and me ought to be stripping down and celebrating horizontal-style right now, not…not me afraid of…" she trailed off.

"Of what?" Robin asked.

"I…I don’t want to say it," Faith said.

"That probably means you should," Robin countered. "Faith…if you talk to me, you might feel better. Actually, I’m willing to bet you will, little by little." He gently moved his hand to Faith’s shoulder and looked concerned when she almost flinched.

"Faith?"

"She…she made me go through things that…they’re not real, can’t be real, but it felt real. The worst were here. This room. It’d start out normal, loving, but…you’d—the illusion of you, not the real you—you’d hold me down, and I wasn’t strong enough to—"

"God," Robin whispered. "Oh god, Faith, I’m so sorry."

"No!" Faith snapped. "No, don’t! You don’t have to be sorry, it wasn’t you! You didn’t...she made you, the thing in my mind...the thing that looked like you, she made it do that. Not you. She doesn’t deserve to have you apologize for what she made it do. Never. You got that?"

"Got it," Robin said softly. He looked around the room. "We’ll redecorate," he said. "New colors, new furniture…"

"No, don’t," Faith sighed. "It’s stupid, it’s—"

"You don’t have to fight it all at once," Robin offered. "Maybe it’ll help. I know I’d rather forget what happened…"

Faith nodded, then frowned and looked at Robin. "What happened?" she asked warily.

He looked up, then sighed. "Sorry," he said. "I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have—"

"What. Happened?" Faith insisted.

"The demon," he replied sadly. "I thought it was you. We…" he searched for the right words.

"No," Faith said before he could speak again. "You— Damn it!" She pushed herself off the bed and dashed for the door.

"Faith!" Robin called after her.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled, slamming the door behind her.

Cut to:

Ext.Wooded Area Near Youngstown – Dusk

Rowena, Kennedy, and Dawn all set their backpacks down simultaneously.

"Okay, why don’t we set up camp?" Rowena suggested. "Then tomorrow we can start our search."

"Why wait?" Kennedy answered. "We’ve got some daylight left now."

"Because it’s pretty tough to set up a tent it when it’s pitch black," Rowena answered. "I’d like us to have a safe place before we go out."

"Fine. You guys set up, and I’ll scout the area. How’s that?" Kennedy offered.

"Why do you always have to buck my authority?" Rowena countered.

"I’m not bucking anything," Kennedy answered. "Doesn’t it make sense to know the area here?"

Rowena folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, but you and I both know you’re not going to scout the area. You’re going to hunt for this thing."

"Hunt, scout, what’s the difference?" Kennedy asked with a grin. "Look, you handle the tent. I’ll be back."

Rowena opened her mouth as if to counter Kennedy again, but the slayer’s back was already turned, and she was starting toward the tree line. The watcher felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It’s not you," Dawn told her. "She’s always been this way. All slay, all the time. Come on, let’s get set up."

Reluctantly, Rowena followed Dawn.

Cut to:Int.Watchers Council – Coven Room – Same Time

Willow stood with her arms crossed, looking thoughtfully at the contraption in the middle of the room. A flat, dark blue stone was propped up on an easel, and surrounding it, on chairs and music stands and hanging from the ceiling were various mirrors and crystals, of all shapes and sizes. Jeff was at a desk at the side of the room, studying one of a stack of old books, while Skye was busy on the opposite side of the room, mixing various powders.

"Hey, Red," Faith said, attracting Willow’s attention.

"Faith," she said, turning. "How’re you feeling?"

"You got a minute? I’d like to get outta here for a while," Faith asked, in a voice that was almost fragile.

"Yeah, okay, just…Jeff?" Willow called across the room. "Keep an eye on the cauldron, and call my cell phone if the mirror does anything."

"Will do," he nodded, looking up from his book.

"What’s up?" Willow asked, falling into step beside Faith as she returned to the corridor. "Is everything okay? I mean, under the circumstances."

"Some circumstances," Faith muttered. "No…no, even under the circumstances, everything isn’t okay."

"Robin?" Willow guessed, as they descended the stairs and headed towards the garage.

"He slept with that thing!" Faith said. "I know it looked like me and sounded like me, but god!"

"Faith," Willow said hopefully, "I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but…well, on a scale of one to ten, it was at about a zillion of being just like you. I swear no one had a clue."

"You and I weren’t screwing our brains out," Faith pointed out angrily.

"No, that would’ve tipped me off that something was odd," Willow agreed. Faith looked at her in surprise, then laughed bitterly. "At least you can laugh…that’s good, right?" Willow asked hopefully.

"I guess it is," Faith nodded. "But still, it— I need time. I can’t deal with this right now, I just need to…I need to go some place she never made me go, and just try to relax. Around here, I’m— See?" she pointed at herself.

"What?" Willow asked.

"There," Faith pointed at the open door they had just passed. "I just checked for something hiding there. I didn’t even mean to, it just…This is my home, and I’m expecting something to leap out and kill me every moment. Or someone."

"I know the feeling," Willow said quietly. "I get dreams like that. Only, it’s me doing the leaping and killing. Though not so much leaping," she added.

"You mean like…evil magic stuff?" Faith asked. "That Shadow chick?" Willow nodded. "Sorry," Faith said. "Well, wanna drive out to the park and lament our sucky nightmares together?"

"Why not?" Willow answered. "Ro’s on assignment, and I shouldn’t be needed upstairs for an hour or so. I’ll drive, though," she added, taking a pair of keys from the cabinet by the garage entrance.

"Fair enough," Faith mused. "That reminds me, I need a new bike. I been meaning to go check some out ever since Slick used the last one as a hand weapon. You know, if I can find an R1200 in a color I like, I might—" She stopped dead, staring at the bike in her usual space in the garage: a red BMW R1200.

"Um…the Changeling bought it," Willow explained nervously. "Two weeks ago."

Faith turned back and stared at the bike. "I need to talk to Robin," she said quietly. "Sorry, I just—"

"It’s all right," Willow assured her. "We’ll do the park thing another time."

Faith nodded absently, turned, then looked back at the bike. "Would you do me a favor?" she asked Willow.

"Of course."

"Get rid of that for me," Faith said. "Donate it somewhere, or…I don’t care. I don’t want it."

"You sure?" Willow asked cautiously.

"It’s not mine."

Cut to:Ext.Wooded Area Near Youngstown – Later

Rowena and Dawn stood in the mix of beams and canvas.

"Okay," Dawn began as she looked at a set of instructions. "Insert beam A into beam B," she read out loud.

"Which one is B?" Rowena asked, frustrated. "All of these look the same."

"The one with the little hook thingy on the end," Dawn answered.

Rowena looked at the end of a few beams before her and shook her head. "There are no little hook thingies," she answered.

"There has to be," Dawn rebuffed.

"I’m telling you they all look the same," she answered. "Let me see that," she said, reaching for the instructions booklet and snatching it from Dawn’s hand.

"I see the tent’s coming along well," they both heard Kennedy say behind them. "You know…you two can read 10,000 different languages, but one set of tent directions throws you off."

"Find anything?" Rowena asked, ignoring the jab.

"Nada," Kennedy replied. "I think we’ll go in the morning when we have more light."

Kennedy breezed past them and smiled once her back was to them. Rowena glared at her for a moment before going back to her instructions. Kennedy plopped herself down on a nearby rock and watched as Rowena and Dawn talked softly and pointed to the directions.

"Thank god we’re not on Survivor. You’d have been voted out of the tribe already," she teased.

Dawn smiled, but Rowena shot daggers at Kennedy and thrust the instructions forward.

"Would you like to take a shot?" the watcher asked.

"Sure," Kennedy said, coming off the rock and walking over. "I’d like to get to sleep at some point tonight," she added as she took the directions and began to read them.

After a few moments she handed the directions back to Dawn and looked at the beams. She picked up two and easily snapped them together. She took two more and put them together as well.

"What’s next?" Kennedy asked.

Dawn fumbled with the paper. "Insert beam C into beam D."

"Past that point," Kennedy answered giving Rowena a smug grin. "What’s after that?" she asked Dawn.

Rowena stood up and started toward the tree line. "I’ll find some kindling."

"Sure you can handle that, Mountain Momma?" Kennedy called out before snickering.

Rowena bit her tongue and continued to walk.

Cut to:Int.The "Paint Factory" – Night

The room vibrated with music. Neon signs provided some illumination, as did the moving strobe lights in various colors. Dancers, mostly in groups of two, took up much of the middle of the room. Bars took up most of two of four walls.

Along a third wall, stools were set into place, mostly inhabited by people sipping drinks. Most of these were in pairs as well. Couples.

Vi sat alone.

She had a drink in her hand and a bored look on her face. Every few minutes she ran her eyes over the room, looking less bored and more annoyed. Sometimes angry.

"You look like I feel," said a voice beside her.

"What?" Vi turned to see a handsome young man with violet eyes slipping onto the stool next to hers. He had a drink in hand, which he raised in a mock toast. "To Janine—the girl who invited me here, then didn’t show up!"

Vi took this in, then raised her own glass. "And to Xander. Ditto. Only he’s not a girl. You get the idea."

"Yeah." They each took a swallow. "I’m Dorian."

She took his offered hand. "Vi."

He tilted his head. "Interesting name."

"So’s Dorian."

"Thank you." He smiled, than lifted an eyebrow. "This is going to sound so lame, but…you look familiar. You really do."

"Lame, yeah. But a little less so because you know that."

"Wait a sec. Were you at a formal wear place earlier today? With some guy? Dark hair? You wore this really nice scarf?"

Vi blinked. She gulped. Then she said, "That just stopped being lame. Truth. Wow. Good for you. Salut!" And she lifted her glass again.

Dorian joined her. "Was that this Xander guy then?"

"Yeah," Vi managed to say and sigh at the same time.

"How late is he?"

"An hour."

"Janet was supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago."

Vi nodded in sympathy, then joined in a smile with Dorian.

"Screw ’em," said Dorian. "Let’s dance!"

Cut to:Int.Faith & Robin’s Apartment – Living Room – Same Time

Robin looked up as the door opened slowly.

"Hey," Faith said.

"Hey," he nodded.

She closed the door behind her and sat next to him on the couch. "Forgive me?" Faith asked.

Robin looked at her in surprise, then smiled. "Easiest thing in the world," he assured her. "I’m sorry, too, I should have…" He trailed off.

"Nah," Faith shook her head, "you couldn’t have known. I think…I wouldn’t have, either."

"I’m sorry anyway," Robin admitted. "I hurt you…I didn’t mean to, and maybe I had no way of knowing, but it’s done, and I’m sorry."

"Forgiven," Faith said with a faint smile. She put a hand hesitantly on Robin’s shoulder, then quickly hugged him, as if afraid to give herself the time to reconsider and pull away. "This is really difficult," she admitted in a tiny voice.

"Yeah," Robin agreed. "But we’ll get through this…all of it."

Faith stayed firm against Robin’s chest as her eyes looked uncertain. "Yeah," she said softly.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Bedroom – Later That Night

Xander’s eyes flickered open. They took time to focus, longer than seemed usual. And even as he pulled himself into a sitting position, those eyes remained glazed.

"Dorian?" he whispered in a hoarse voice. He blinked at the sound of his voice, then licked his dry lips.

Slowly, Xander moved to get out of bed. He tried to stand and failed at the first attempt. The second attempt worked, but only barely. He swayed on his feet. Taking one step forward, he reached over to the wall and leaned on it. After another few steps, he started to take deep breaths. Looking around the room, his pupils dilated.

He tries to take several steps on his own. Feet become entangled in a pair of trousers strewn on the floor. With a cry, he lands too hard on the bedroom floor—too hard and at the wrong angle. The sound of bones snapping is drowned out by his scream…

Xander’s head snapped back, his eyes wide. He looked over to the floor where his trousers lay, precisely where the vision warned him. Rather than try and walk by himself, Xander inched back to the bed.

From the bed, shaking and pale, he looked around in the dim light.

Several moments, and several gasping breaths later, he reached over to try and pick up his discarded trousers. Fingers almost touched the edge of the fabric. With a groan, he made a further effort.

And fell down.

Xander made a noise as the air rushed out of his lungs. Then he gasped.

"Dorian…?"

Then, he lost consciousness. He could not hear the door open from the main room nearby.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Same

"Here you go," Dorian said, swinging open the door. He made a gesture for Vi to precede him.

She giggled. With a raised eyebrow, she said, "Luring an innocent girl to somewhere private?"

Dorian shrugged. "If you don’t want to come in, that’s up to you. I have my own hopes in the matter, but the choice is yours."

Vi stepped inside. "It’s not exactly like I’m defenseless," she said with a grin.

"Good!"

She took a look around the apartment, nodding as if in approval of the décor. "Nice."

"Thank you," Dorian went into the kitchen, but his voice could still be heard.

She looked over to the other door. "Two bedrooms?" Vi asked.

"Roommate," Dorian answered. The sound of a refrigerator opening and closing was barely audible. "But he’s out of town." He came back into the room carrying a tray. "As promised," he said, "the very best assortment of cheese and crackers! I’m starving."

"Me, too. You’d better have a whole lot of cheese and crackers!"

"Quick and simple, but not very elegant, I’m afraid." He set the plate down on a coffee table. Vi clapped her hands and sat down.

"Elegant, schmelegant—I’m hungry."

"Dig in!" He headed back to the kitchen.

"What are you getting now?" asked Vi as she stuffed a tiny cracker and cheddar sandwich into her mouth.

"Something to drink!" came Dorian’s voice from the kitchen.

"Nothing for me, I’ve had too much already," she said, munching.

"You sure? I’ve got a really nice Merlot."

"Well…a Merlot would be okay."

Dorian returned with a bottle he was in the process of opening. As the cork came out with a mild pop, he set the bottle down on the coffee table. "Oops. Be right back." He hurried back to the kitchen.

Less than two seconds later, he returned with two fluted glasses in one hand. He set these on the table, then took a camera from behind his back. With one fluid motion, he aimed and took a snapshot.

Vi stared at him, surprised but not angry.

"I like to capture moments," Dorian explained, shrugging. After pouring wine into one of the glasses, he then reached over and offered it to Vi. She reached over, touching both glass and hand, not letting go.

"Thanks," she grinned.

"You’re more than welcome."

As it happened, with his stretching to hand her the glass and her stretching to take it, their faces were close, less than four inches apart. After a moment, in unison, they inched closer.

"I try," he said, voice low, "to be a good host."

"You’re succeeding," Vi answered, edging even closer to him.

They were practically nose-to-nose now. And then they kissed.

Fade out.

 

 

End of Act Three

Act Four 

 

Fade in:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Later That Night

The light in the apartment was dim. Streetlamps and meager moonlight streamed in through the windows. A few appliances gave off tiny glows against the shadows. One lone lamp in the corner provided some illumination.

But it was enough.

Dorian lay on his stomach across the unfolded futon. Against the white of the sheets, his naked flesh looked brilliant with color. Vi, sitting up beside him, gazed at his form with a satiated smile. With a single, smooth move, she rose into a crouch above and behind Dorian. She reached out with one hand to stroke his flesh.

"Hmmmmm…" he said groggily.

"Sleep," she whispered, barely audible then took her hand away.

Slowly, Vi got up and off the futon. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness. She made her way easily through the shadows, her own naked skin as brilliantly colorful as Dorian’s. She went over to the coffee table and picked up a fluted glass of wine. She swallowed the remaining third of the glass in one gulp. Something about this struck her as funny. Maybe it was the few drops that spilled or the image of herself in a handsome young man’s apartment, swallowing post-coital Merlot. Whatever the reason, she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Looking over at Dorian, she saw him still asleep or near enough, so it didn’t matter.

Picking up the bottle, she found it empty. Dorian’s own glass had no more than a few drops, which she poured down her throat.Then she tip-toed over towards the kitchen.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Kitchen – Seconds Later

Once she reached the refrigerator, Vi opened the door and took some time quietly exploring. She stared at the various drinks there, including another bottle of Merlot and a six-pack of soda. At last, she reached in and pulled out a carton marked "Citrus Juice." She opened it and took a sniff. Then, she closed the refrigerator door.

Next she began looking for a glass. The first cabinet she looked in contained nothing but pots and pans. The second was full of cereals and various canned foods. The third…

The third made her stop and stare.

It wasn’t so much a closet or a cabinet as it was a shrine. Dozens of photographs lined the interior. Portraits. Many were in color, although some were so faded it was difficult to tell. Others were black and white, some yellowed with age. Roughly half were men, the rest women. No photograph showed more than one person.

And just a little off-center was a photograph of Xander.

Vi blinked. And stared. Then blinked again. But then, her face grew very serious indeed and more than a little bit angry. She put the carton of fruit juice down on the counter.

The slayer headed back into the main room, stark naked and moving like a cat.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Same

Without making a single sound, Vi pushed open the door and slipped back inside the main room. Her eyes took in the reclined form of Dorian on the futon as before, but now her expression was very different. Instead of warm, her eyes were like ice. And she made her way through the dark room, carefully picking up various articles of clothing.

Yet her eyes remained on Dorian. Even as she slipped her shirt back on, she hurried. Her sight remained focused on Dorian, except for the quarter-second it took to place shirt over her head. Quietly, she reached over to pick up a discarded pair of trousers, panties still inside. She pulled them back on.

Then she reached for her shoes.

What she picked up wasn’t her own shoe. It was a man’s shoe. She stared at it, eyes suddenly showing fear.

"Xander…" she breathed.

Putting the shoe down, quietly, she began a circuit of the apartment. In bare feet, she circled around the futon, listening. She also peered in every direction, even hunching down and looking underneath furniture. When she neared her purse, she stopped. From her purse, she slipped out a wooden stake. Whereas the shaft was polished and smooth, with scalpel-sharp point, the handle itself was carved with a grain like shark-skin and shaped to perfectly fit Vi’s own hand. She hesitated a moment, looking at the prone Dorian, and her unblinking gaze looked anything but friendly. But after a few moments, she resumed her search.

Eventually, she reached the bedroom door.

Cut to:Int.Dorian’s Apartment – Bedroom – Seconds Later

Next to the bed, yet still visible in the darkness, lay the nude figure of a man. Vi was next to him in less than a second. Dropping her personalized stake on the floor next to him, she turned Xander over, revealing an ashen face.

"Xander?" she whispered.

His eyes flickered open. "Vi?"

"What did he do to you?"

"Not…he…she… I’m real tired." He seemed to be trying to focus his eyes. "Real, real, real, real tired."

"Come on, let’s get you out of here."

"I think maybe I need to rest…"

"You can rest back at HQ."

"But…" Xander jerked as a flash crossed his eyes.

Dorian’s face, angry, appears behind Vi. He suddenly grabs her by the neck.

"Behind you!" Xander’s voice was ragged but insistent and loud.

Vi’s reaction was instant—she spun around and with one arm swept the space directly behind her. A naked woman fell to the floor, knocked over by Vi’s blow. But she got up again with almost no hesitation. She had the same violet eyes as Dorian.

"There’s no need," she said.

Vi held up her stake like a knife.

"Who are you?" Vi asked. "Where’s Dorian?"

Xander did a take. "What?"

The violet-eyed young woman simply gazed intently from Vi to Xander and back again. "You have no idea," she said longingly, "how long I’ve looked for you. Both of you. No idea."

"Uh-huh," was Vi’s answer. "And who are you?"

"Dorian." When Vi said nothing, she repeated herself. "I’m Dorian. Really."

Vi took a glance at the woman’s crotch. "I don’t think so."

"Oh yes," she said wearily. "This is what I am, my nature. I am both man and woman, which means of course I’m not really either. You think that would

make me popular, wouldn’t you? Being able to understand exactly what each sex is like? What they want? How they feel?" She sounded very sad. "Of course, what that really means is that everyone thinks there’s something different about me. And because it is my nature, I’ve searched all my life—year after year after year, more than you can imagine—for not just one love, but two. For two special people to whom I could give myself totally. Without reservation. Two people who could fill this hole in my life."

Xander shook his head. "Okaaaayy. I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused. And that’s saying something." He tried to stand up and failed. "Then again, maybe it’s because I feel like my battery got drained."

"That will pass," Dorian said, kneeling beside him. "I do get carried away, I’m afraid."

"So," said Vi, "what are you exactly?"

"A supernatural being," answered Dorian. "That’s pretty obvious, I suppose."

"Uh…yeah!"

"And you two," she said, looking at Vi and Xander, "when I saw you today at the formal wear shop, I sensed something special." Her eyes watered. "Something I’ve wanted so long…"

Her hand shot out! She caught Xander’s wrist, the one with the hand now holding the wooden stake Vi had dropped. He had been aiming it at her and had managed to get it within an inch of her throat. Eyes flashing, she held his wrist like a vise.

"Why are doing this?" she hissed.

"I know…a demon…when I see one…" he said, almost gasping. "Eventually, anyway."

Now she snarled. "I am not a demon!" Enraged, she began to push the point of the stake back towards Xander. "Don’t you call me that!"

"Dorian?" said Vi.

At the sound of Vi’s voice, Dorian stopped and looked. Vi was standing calmly, looking at her. Something in her expression made Dorian hesitate.

"Dorian," Vi repeated. "Change."

"Why?" Her voice had a catch in it.

"Change. For me." Vi kept eye contact and slowly peeled off her own shirt. "I want the Dorian I know," she said, letting her shirt drop to the floor. "Please?"

Dorian opened her mouth, eyes unblinking and entranced by Vi. She said nothing.

"Please, Dorian." Vi began to undo her pants. "Change."

Violet eyes watered. "It’s a trick."

"Isn’t this what you wanted?" She let her pants drop and stepped out of them. "Because what we did, what we had—that is what I want." She kicked her pants away and stood before Dorian naked.

Now Dorian hesitated and looked at Xander, who in turn was sweating and breathing hard. "Uh, Vi…?"

"Shut up, Xander." She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were on Dorian. "I understand," she said. "I’ve been looking, too. Maybe not as long as you, but for years. One crush after another, all coming to nothing. Boys sometimes taking me on pity dates or doing my mother a favor. And I put out, in hopes it would make them want me, treasure me. Yeah, right, like that worked. Even Xander," she made a gesture in his direction. "He’s the nearest thing to a good boyfriend I’ve ever had. And what am I to him?" Now there was a catch in her voice, and Dorian rose up at hearing it. "A spare tire! That’s all. No one has ever once chosen me because they wanted me—to be first and foremost with me!" A single tear glistened down her cheek. "Until…" She didn’t finish.

Dorian had the stake in hand now and tossed it to the side of the room. She looked hard at Vi, then changed. Hair shortened. Muscles reshaped. Stronger brow and jaw and nose. In moments Dorian was again the handsome young man from before. With an expression of great tenderness, he approached Vi and put his arms around her. He let her cling to him.

"It’ll be all right," he whispered, hugging her close. "I promise."

Her own arms were around his neck. She pulled back to look in his face, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone, the pulse of his jugular vein.

Then suddenly, she locked both her hands around this throat and squeezed. Dorian’s eyes bulged, and he grabbed her wrists, trying to pull them away—with no success. Teeth bared, Vi squeezed harder as Dorian tried to pull himself away or push her away. In moments, despite his struggles, he began to sink to his knees.

Vi growled, "I’m not...going to be another picture...on your wall! And neither...is...Xander!"

Dorian began to cry as he reached the floor. Vi never relented, but put all her weight as well as her slayer strength into strangling him. He thrashed. He struggled. He tried to breathe. But after another minute or two, it didn’t matter. Legs stopped kicking. Arms stopped flailing. Dorian was dead. And a weird metamorphosis happened, as both genders became manifest in the body at the same time, flesh alternately rugged and smooth.

Vi watched this happen and finally muttered. "Lie to me, huh?" Then she looked at Xander. "We need to get you to a doctor."

Wearily, Xander nodded.

Cut to:Ext.Forest Near Cave – Day

Rowena, Kennedy, and Dawn all walked toward the alcove with flashlights in hand, creeping quietly toward the darkness.

Dawn grinned. "I feel like I should be on the cell phone talking to Mulder," she said quietly.

"You need to stop spending so much time with Andrew," Kennedy replied.

"Shh," Rowena said, placing a finger over her lips. "The two of you are going to scare whatever’s out there if you keep up the chatter."

"Oh, yes ma’am," Kennedy replied, rolling her eyes. "You know, if you ask me—and I know you didn’t—I’d say this was pointless. We’re not going to find anything," she added as she moved in deeper.

"Where are you going?" Rowena asked.

Kennedy stopped and pitched a thumb toward the entrance. "In here. We need to check the area, don’t we?" she asked.

"Yes, but we can’t just go charging in. Move slowly," Rowena told her.

"If we moved any slower, I’d need a walker," Kennedy replied. "I’m tired of you not trusting my instincts," she added as she disappeared inside.

Rowena looked to Dawn and then followed Kennedy inside with a sigh as Dawn followed the watcher.

Cut to:Int.Cave – Day

"I trust your instincts as a slayer fine," Rowena answered, "but as a leader..."

"So it's okay for me to kill stuff, so long as I don't decide anything for myself?" Kennedy asked sarcastically.

"If you're going to just charge around without thinking all the time, then—" 

The sound of a roar echoed through the tunnel, and the trio looked at each other. Rowena then looked deeper into the cave.

"That didn’t sound like a coyote," she said to no one in particular.

The shadow of a large creature with an elongated head and wings displayed against the cavern wall, and everyone slowly began to back up.

"Get behind me," Kennedy ordered. Dawn and Rowena both took three steps back as Kennedy stood her ground.

The figure got closer and closer. Kennedy tightened her grip on her sword and held her breath.

From around the corner, a small head that looked reptile in nature peeked out and looked around before darting back.

"What the…" Kennedy trailed off and began to move forward. She reached into her pocket and pulled something out before she knelt down. "Come ’ere, little fella," she coaxed as she extended her hand.

The head popped out again and sniffed the air. With careful steps, a small dragon emerged, looking no bigger than a large house cat. It looked around again before racing over to the slayer. It took the half eaten granola bar from Kennedy and began to feast on it.

"We should keep him," Kennedy said decidedly, nodding as she examined the dragon.

Rowena shook her head and spoke quickly. "No, no. Kennedy, slay the dragon."

The dragon almost seemed to pout and look up at Kennedy with hopeful eyes.

"How can we kill him? He looks so cuuute," Dawn agreed.

"It’s not cute," Rowena answered. "It’s a deadly creature. And for all we know it could be a female dragon with a little dragon on the way. And then what? We have two dragons with no idea how large they’ll get."

"We can take care of it then," Kennedy said.

"What? After it destroys Cleveland like Godzilla destroys Tokyo? No, absolutely not."

"Oh come on," Kennedy complained. "I can’t kill him. Look at him!"

The dragon now rolled on its back playing with its hind legs.

"This thing is not a puppy or a kitten," Rowena argued. "If that’s what you want, I’ll take you to a shelter. There’re lots of animals that need a home. But a dragon? We can’t go to the store and buy Kibble and Villager Bits."

Dawn gave a small chuckle but quickly stopped when Rowena shot her a stern look.

"I say we vote," Kennedy said.

"What?" Rowena asked before quickly shaking her head. "No, no voting."

"Hey," Kennedy pointed. "There’s three sections of the council here," she began as she pointed first to herself. "The slayers, the coven, and the watchers. We have all three."

"You’re not the head slayer," Rowena pointed out.

"And you’re not the head watcher, so that evens things out. Last time I checked, Dawn wasn’t the head of the coven either, so that leaves just us. The slayers vote we keep him. Dawn?"

"Oh no," Dawn said, shaking her hands in front of her and her head as well. "I don’t want to be the tie breaker here."

"You don’t have a choice," Kennedy told her.

Dawn looked undecided. "I agree he’s cute, and I’d like to keep him but…I think Ro’s right. We don’t know what we’re getting into, and he is killing living animals. He should be put down."

Kennedy looked disappointed but then nodded. "Okay then." She walked back over to the dragon and put the sword above her head to strike. He looked up at her with a playful expression, thrashing his arms as if he was waving at her. "That’s it." She groaned and walked back over to Rowena, handing her the unused sword. "Have at it."

"You’re the slayer," she told Kennedy.

"Vampire slayer, not dragon slayer. You want him dead, you do it."

Rowena sighed as she took the sword.

"I don’t believe this…Wimps," she muttered as she walked over and took the same position as Kennedy did earlier.

She raised the sword above her head and paused a moment before thrusting it down.

Cut to:Int.Council Truck – Moments Later

Rowena sat in the driver’s seat saying nothing while Dawn sat in the middle, silent as well. In the passenger seat sat Kennedy holding the miniature dragon on her lap, stroking its head as it made an almost purring noise.

"Thank you for changing your mind at the last second," Kennedy said sincerely, leaning over to Rowena.

"Don’t thank me." Rowena shook her head. "They’re gonna kill us."

Fade to:Ext.Watchers Council – Later That Day

Skye and Mia walked outside chatting with each other. They joined Willow, Faith, and Robin on the front stoop just as a Council truck came into view at the far end of the street. When it drove up to the main doors, Willow rushed to the driver’s side door and hugged Rowena as she got out.

"Missed you too," the watcher said. "Faith…good to see you up and about."

"Faith!" Dawn rushed to her and gave her a hug.

"Hey Dawnie," Faith smiled. "I think your girlfriend is getting jealous."

"Don’t make me put you on a leash," Skye warned jokingly as she hugged her girlfriend.

"Is this a discussion you two should be having in public?" Mia asked, causing both girls to blush. "Ken?"

"Right here, hon’," Kennedy replied, still busy at the passenger side of the car. She eventually straightened up and walked around the car to join her friends, who regarded the purring bundle of scales and wings in her arms with some alarm.

"Is that…" Willow began.

"What?" Kennedy asked, as the dragon lifted its head and regarded

its surroundings warily. "It’s okay, baby, they’re friends," Kennedy cooed to it, tickling its scaled belly gently.

Kennedy began to walk away holding the dragon with Rowena following, looking none too pleased and Willow behind her.

Confused, Faith turned to Robin.

"Reassure me I’m in the real world again, will you?" she asked as she watched Kennedy heading toward the Council.

"Sure…but who’s gonna reassure me?" he asked in return.

Cut to:Int.Watchers Council – Infirmary – Later That Day

Xander sat on the edge of a bed and drank a milky liquid that had him make a face. He looked better than he had, but not well.

"What is this stuff?"

Giles, standing beside him, answered. "Potassium, electrolytes, magnesium, a plethora of vitamins. There are probably more ingredients, but those are all that Dr. Miller mentioned."

"Finish it," ordered Vi from the other side of the bed.

"Yes, ma’am." And he did, making another face. "So," he said after swallowing, "my track record continues unabated, huh? She—or he—or whatever—it was a demon, right?"

"A Succubea, yes. Fairly rare, actually, but dangerous all the same."

"The ultimate stalker," snorted Vi. "Full of ‘woe is me, no one understands.’ Meanwhile, look what he did to Xander! And all those pictures in the kitchen! You think any of them are still alive?"

"Well, a few maybe," began Giles.

"Excuse me," interrupted Xander, "just to make things absolutely clear—when this particular demon was with me, ‘He’ was a ‘She.’ Okay?"

"Got it," nodded Vi.

"Jeff should be happy." At their looks, Giles explained. "Oh, Jeff was very eager to find and stop the Succubea once we identified such as the source of the traumatic pregnancies."

"Good for him," said Vi.

"Yeah," added Xander. "Rah, Jeff."

Dr. Miller stepped inside the infirmary from his office. "Good news. Mr. Harris, you have a case of exhaustion coupled with dehydration, but nothing worse. And you," he turned to Vi, "are not pregnant but we'll test again at your next cycle. Just to double check so be sure to come back in."

Vi gave him a relieved sigh and a nod.

Giles hesitated a moment, looking at Vi and Xander and their body language. Then he turned to the doctor. "Our work is done for now, yes?"

"Essentially."

"Good! Well, in that case I offer you all my congratulations and wish you a good night."

"Thank you," said Miller. "Xander, you’ll need to take some vitamin supplements for a few days, but other than that some extra bed rest should see you fully recovered."

"Glad to hear it."

"Then I’ll bid you good night as well."

With a nod to them both, Dr. Miller exited, and Giles followed. Silence filled the room in their wake. Silence that lasted seconds but seemed closer to an hour.

"Have I ever told you," said Xander finally, "that you look really sexy when you’re angry?"

Vi didn’t hesitate. "No."

"Ah." Xander sighed. "I can be dumb that way sometimes."

Vi smiled.

Fade out.

End of Infernal Affairs