“Patrol was a waste of time last night,” Buffy observed. “We didn’t see a single vampire.”
“I got one,” Harmony said proudly. “I outdid the Slayer! Yay me! ‘Cept, one like totally clueless newly risen, not major points scoring.”
“That’s odd,” Riley commented. “We’ve been rushed off our feet. Ever since Colonel McNamara took over our squads have been pulling a lot more captures. We’ve got demons coming out of our ears.”
Spike frowned. “The last Colonel, Hamilton or whoever, wasn’t all that big on capturing them, was he?”
“Havilland. No, not really. He was more ‘If we know for sure something’s harmless leave it alone; if we know it’s dangerous blow its frigging head off. Only capture it if we don’t know enough about it to be sure, or if it’s got technology that might be useful to the US Government’.” Riley kept his eyes on Harmony, watching her reaction. “He’s a combat soldier. McNamara’s more in tune with the scientist guys. Tag and bag everything non-Terrestrial, even if we’ve got six of the type already and we know they eat people.” He could see Harmony growing nervous, and hastened to reassure her. “You’re still okay, Harmony. I don’t know if McNamara would ever have agreed to the order in the first place, but he’s not going to countermand it. Even seems happy about it, says it could come in useful.” Even as he spoke he realised he’d made an error in mentioning it.
“Oh, great. That really makes me feel so reassured - not. Like I’m some big experiment in the field, huh?”
“That’s not -” Riley began, but stopped short as he realised that Harmony was probably correct.
“It would seem the demons regard the risk of capture as less of a deterrent than the risk of death,” Giles put in, trying to bring the conversation back to matters with less personal implications. “I would have thought the opposite would have been the case. Perhaps they believe Adam can rescue them from captivity.”
“Maybe,” Riley started to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“It’s open,” Giles called. A useful choice of words in Sunnydale; it was daytime, and so it was unlikely that the visitor would be a vampire, but not impossible, as Harmony’s own presence in the room proved. The door swung open, revealing a short young man with tousled ginger hair.
Willow leaped to her feet, a delighted smile spreading across her face. “Oz!” she cried. “You’re back.”
Oz walked in to a chorus of greetings. Only Riley and Tara remained silent. Tara’s eyes were on Willow, and her brow began to furrow.
“Hi, guys,” Oz returned the greetings, then he saw Harmony and his eyebrows shot up. “Harmony? “What..?”
“It’s okay, Oz, I’m good now,” the vampire girl assured him. “I’m all friendly with Willow, and I’m like totally sorry about trying to eat her that time, and I’m really glad you saved her from me.”
“Uh, okay,” the werewolf acknowledged, looking around the others and realising that Harmony must be telling the truth.
“Hey, way to surprise the Hell out of us, man,” Xander addressed him. “You don’t call, you don’t write. Where’ve you been?”
“Tibet,” Oz informed him. Everyone waited for him to continue, but apparently that was all he was going to say.
“Tibet? With yaks and llamas and those Buddhist monk guys?” Buffy pressed.
“Yeah.” Oz gave her a wry smile. “Lamas are those Buddhist monk guys, Buffy.”
The Slayer frowned, puzzled, as did Harmony. Llamas were cuddly long-haired animals with big eyes and long necks, sort of like crosses between camels and goats, surely?
Willow turned to Tara, still wearing a beaming smile, and saw the worried expression on her lover’s face. The smile faded away. Spike glanced in that direction, observed the interplay, and his own smile lost its warmth. Buffy followed suit, then Xander, and within seconds the only genuine smile directed at Oz was Harmony’s.
“Can I get you something, some tea perhaps?” Giles offered. “We’d all like to know how you’ve been, but in your own time, of course.”
“No thanks, I’m good,” Oz declined, shuffling his feet. “I’m going to head over to Devon’s, see if he’s got a place I can crash.” He turned to Willow. “I was hoping we could talk. I’ll come over to your place later? Tonight?”
“If that’s okay with Buffy,” Willow replied uncertainly.
Buffy studied her friend before replying, unsure what Willow wanted her to say. But the two former lovers did need to talk, and so there was only one answer she could give. “Sure, no problem. I’ll go back to Spike’s.”
Oz was on edge, aware of tensions in the air, but he still caught the implications behind Buffy’s reply. Buffy and Spike were an item. There had been big changes while he’d been away, and he had a sinking feeling that some of them had involved Willow. “Okay. It’s been great to see you guys again, really, but I’d better catch Devon now.”
“Say ‘hi’ to him for me,” Harmony called. “I haven’t seen him since this happened.” She gestured at the side of her neck, where the scar of the fatal bite still showed.
“Sure,” a stunned-looking Oz muttered, and he walked out and closed the door behind him.
“Hey, Oz back,” Harmony smiled at Willow. “That’s great, isn’t it?” She became aware that the room was completely silent and that everyone was looking at Tara. “Is there something I’ve missed?” she asked plaintively.
“Oh, I forgot you didn’t know, you were in LA,” Anya began. “Willow and Tara are -”
“I should go,” Tara interrupted. “I’ve got study group, I’ll be late.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
“- gay lovers,” Anya finished.
“Tara, wait,” Willow pleaded.
“N-no, it’s okay,” Tara stammered. “You should b-be w-w-with your friends, and I should go.”
“I’ll give you a lift, pet,” Spike volunteered, catching her at the door. “I’m supervising a study group in half an hour, so I’m heading back anyway.” He took her arm gently. “See you later, love,” he called to Buffy, and left with Tara.
“Gay? I thought you were just good friends.” Harmony shook her head. “Am I being a bit slow again? And did I put my foot in it there?”
“Maybe a little,” Willow told her, biting her lip. “I think Tara’s worried about Oz being back. I’m over him; I mean I’ve been through the Rebound Guy stage and all that; but I don’t want to hurt Oz and I don’t know what to say to both of them.”
Harmony opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. She hardly knew Tara, hadn’t met her before going to LA and had only seen her a few times since then, always with Willow; Harmony had liked Oz when she was human, and her impulse was to urge Willow to get back together with the taciturn guitarist. However that didn’t seem likely, going by what Willow had just said, and advice on how to let him down gently was not something Harmony felt qualified to give.
“Tell them both the truth, straight out, Will,” Buffy counselled. “Whatever you say, somebody gets hurt. You can’t avoid it, and if you try you’ll only mess somebody up.”
“That’s excellent advice,” Anya agreed, and stood. “Xander and I had better be going too. We’ve both got work shifts soon. Coming, Harmony?”
“I think I’ll stay a while before I run the sunshine gauntlet,” the vampire girl replied. “Got something I want to talk over with Giles, anyway.”
“So have I,” Riley put in. “It can wait, though.” His discussion needed to be carried out in Harmony’s absence. “I’ve got college work of my own to do; I’d better be getting back there myself.”
“Me too,” Buffy added. “I should have been quicker off the mark and got a lift with Spike. Coming with, Will?”
Within five minutes the apartment was empty save for the Watcher and the vampire girl. “Well, Harmony?” Giles asked. “What is it you want to discuss? Not romantic problems, I hope. I’m afraid I’m completely the wrong person for that sort of advice, I felt quite at a loss for anything to say to Willow.”
“Oh, no,” Harmony assured him. “Rye and me are doing just fine. That little thing about his new Colonel doesn’t bother me, not his fault. No, it’s about the vampire I staked. I wasn’t quite telling the others the whole story.”
“You okay, Glinda love?” Spike asked. “You look a bit shaken, if not stirred. You’re not worried about Willow and Oz, are you?”
“A b-bit,” Tara told him. “She n-never really talked about him m-much, but the other Slayer said that she’d n-never seen two people so m-m-m-much in love.”
“Yeah, well, Faith was talking a whole lot of crap, remember? She said Willow was laughing behind my back at my piss-poor attempts to act like a human. Was that true?”
“No,” Tara acknowledged. “She cares about you as much as I do. You think W-Willow loves me more than Oz?”
“I do. Oz is a great guy, he was the first of all the Scoobies to accept me as a friend, and I owe him big time, but he’s going to lose out here. They were in love, sure. But what you and Red have is beyond special.” Spike took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed Tara’s hand briefly. “I know what you’re feeling, pet. I have to admit I was shit scared when Buffy and me went to see Angel. Thought she’d choose him for sure. But something kept me hoping, and it worked out. It’ll work out for you too, you’ll see.”
“You’re sure? I d-don’t feel so confident. I’m nothing special.”
“You are special, love. Heart as big as the world, smile that lights up everything around you, and,” Spike grinned evilly, “you’ve got a great pair of tits.”
“So, anything yet on this ‘Jewel of Basra’ thing?” Riley asked.
“I have made some progress,” Giles replied. “It is a pity that Jonathan has almost no recollection of the information to which he had access during the time that he was affected by his augmentation spell. I’ve had to start almost from scratch. But I have been able to find some references in my sources. Tea?”
“Coffee, if you got it, thanks. So, what’ve you found out?”
Giles got out the coffee as he continued. “It appears to be, as we deduced, a source of magic similar to that which permits Spike to walk in the sun.” He refrained from going into detail about the Gem of Amara; that was Spike’s secret, not his. “Less powerful, I believe; it would not grant the same level of protection, and I am unsure whether it would enable the user to cast a reflection or not, but it would at least allow Harmony to go out in the daylight.”
“Okay, like we guessed. But what about the sixty-four thousand dollar question? Where do we find it?”
“I’m afraid it will have to be instant coffee. Ah, that is indeed, as you say, the sixty-four thousand dollar question. The jewel appears to have been in the treasury of the Persian Emperor Darius the Second at the time of his defeat by Alexander the Great. Nicator Seleucus seized it as part of his share of the Macedonian Empire, after the death of Alexander, and it was taken to Antioch. It remained there until the time of the Crusades, and that’s where I’ve lost the trail. It might have been taken by Sultan Baybars, when he conquered Antioch in 1268, in which case it may well be in Egypt now. An alternative possibility is that it was in the possession of a party of Crusaders who deserted Antioch in 1260 after the Pope forbade the Kingdom of Jerusalem to ally with the Mongol Khan Hulagu; a decision which made the defence of Antioch untenable. That party went to Armenia. It’s at that point that the trail goes cold. I am continuing to work on it with Spike’s assistance.” Giles poured out a cup of coffee and passed it to Riley.
“Thanks. So, we’re making progress, but still a long way off. No immediate prospect of me being able to take Harmony home to meet my folks.” Riley took a drink of coffee, and then set the cup down. “Course, it’ll probably turn out that some really powerful vampire has already got the Jewel, Dracula or someone.”
“Good Lord!” Giles exclaimed. “You may be right. Both Egypt and Armenia were part of the Ottoman Empire; and Dracula fought the Ottomans with great success. It is said that he can walk in the daylight, at least to some extent, and his possession of the Jewel is certainly possible.”
“Dracula really exists? You’re kidding me.”
“I am not. He is real. In fact, I seem to recall Spike mentioning having met him. I’ll ask him about it later. In the meantime I will do some research along those lines. This, unfortunately, will mean struggling with Latin and Romanian, as I lent the English translation of the standard work to Harmony. She wanted to know more about her ‘vampire heritage’. Ask her for it back, would you?”
“Sure thing. I won’t be seeing her again tonight, she’s meeting someone about a job, but I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
“That will be satisfactory,” Giles agreed. “Do you think we should tell her about the Jewel?”
“Not till we’ve got something definite. Don’t want to build up her hopes, and then we find that it was in Hiroshima in 1945, or whatever. Wait till we’ve got some good news.” Riley sought for a change of subject. “So, lot of tension here this afternoon. Willow’s ex, right? Didn’t he used to be a student here? I take it he doesn’t know about the ‘ex’ status?”
“Willow has only recently discovered that she is, um, gay. Oz, Daniel Osbourne is his full name, was her boyfriend for quite some time. However he has an unusual problem which made him leave Sunnydale for a while.” The Watcher considered for a moment, and then decided to tell Riley the whole story. “Oz is a werewolf.”
“A what? A werewolf? The whole ‘Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms, and the moon is full and bright’ thing? First you tell me Dracula’s real, and now there’s a student werewolf. And we already know about Frankenstein.” Riley shook his head slowly, and took a sip of his coffee. “What next, the Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
“Funny you should say that,” Giles smiled. “Well, it wasn’t funny at the time. We did have an incident, a couple of years ago, involving not dissimilar creatures. Ask Xander about it, some time, but only if you want to give him nightmares. This is the Hellmouth. It attracts monsters, demons, strange events and weird science. About the only thing we have been spared is Abbot and Costello.” A thought struck him, and he frowned. “Where did I put the calendar? ‘May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the moon is full and bright’. Oh dear. Surely he can’t have forgotten?”
“What’s the problem?” Riley asked.
“Oz is going to see Willow tonight, he’s probably there already, and the moon is full.”
“Okay, I got your message. You wanted to see me? Here I am.” Harmony looked around the cave. “Nice dump you’ve got here.”
“Did you have to kill the messenger?” The voice was rich, deep, and cultured.
“Hey, sorta traditional. Besides, someone might have seen if I’d let him go. I’m supposed to be one of the good guys. Deal with it. So, what is it you want to talk about? I’m guessing not the weather.”
“Yes, yes, let’s talk about the weather. How beautifully blue the sky, the glass is rising very high, continue fine I hope it may, and yet it rained but yesterday.”
“They programmed you with Gilbert and Sullivan? Weird. Cool, but weird.”
“I was human once. Or at least parts of me were. I’m impressed that you recognised it, cheerleader.”
“Hey, I’ve got hidden depths. Think you know that, or you wouldn’t have called me.” Harmony tossed her head. “Okay, Adam. You want the Slayer dead? Make me an offer.”
Willow followed Oz out into the campus grounds. “So, you wanted to show me something?” she asked hesitantly.
“I do. Look up.”
Willow obeyed, and saw the full moon. Her eyes widened.
“Guess you stopped keeping track of them after I left,” Oz smiled. “Full moon.”
“But – how? Hey, you did it! How did you do it? Tibet, yeah? Monks and secret meditation, sorta thing, was it?”
“You got it. All about keeping your inner cool. There’s more. Some herbs. A couple of charms. A bit of chanting.”
“You mean, like ‘Oz mani padme hum’?” Willow punned. “That is so cool. It’s like totally fantastic for you.”
“Told you I was going to do it, to get control,” Oz reminded her. “And I have. So, now I’m back.”
Willow lowered her head, looked at the ground, and stuck out her lower lip. “Things are a bit different now,” she warned him. “If you’re expecting to just come back and pick up where we were before Verucca, sorry, not gonna happen.”
“So, there’s somebody else?” Oz asked. “I had a word with Xander, he was pretty evasive, just said I should talk to you. I guessed maybe there was.” His shoulders slumped. “Guess I was a fool for hoping. It’s been six months. Couldn’t expect you to wait.”
“If I’d known you were coming back, maybe I would have,” Willow said sadly. “But I didn’t know. I waited, and there was no word, and you sent for your things, and I gave up hope. I started looking again. I went through the rebound guy phase, and then I found someone else. And it’s, umm, real love. I’m sorry. I hate to hurt you.”
“So, who’s the lucky guy?” His voice was heavy, defeated.
“Not a guy,” Willow confessed. “Tara.”
“Tara? That girl who was at Giles’ today?” His eyebrows climbed to his hairline, and then he laughed. “She seemed a nice girl. I can’t even hate her. Man, I’m fucked.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow repeated. “Guess you don’t want to hear the ‘we can still be friends’ speech, huh? But if you could be, I want to be. I’ll always care for you.” Her cell phone began to ring, and she pulled it from her pocket.
“Yeah, noticed that when I caught you kissing Xander that time,” Oz retorted with a sudden flare of bitterness. “You were all I ever wanted. Everything.”
“Yeah, noticed that when I caught you fucking Verucca,” Willow shot back. “I – I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. Hello?” She put the phone to her ear and spoke into it.
“Oh God,” Oz said suddenly. He raised his hand in front of his face and stared at it. “Om vajrapaani huum. Om vajrapaanii huum.”
“Yeah, I’m with Oz, and he’s – I think he’s losing it, Giles.”
“Om vajrapaani huum. Willow, run.” Oz’s face was white and sweating, and his breath was coming in great gasps. “Om vajrapaani huum.”
“Oz, relax. Be calm. Buffy and Spike will be here in a minute.” Willow stood her ground, speaking softly, trying to soothe him. “Inner cool, remember. Keep cool.”
“Om vajrapaani huum. Gate gate paaragate paarasamgate bodhi svaahaa. Om vajrapaanii huum.” His breathing became easier.
“He’s calming down,” Willow reported to Giles. “Did you call Spike before you called me? So they’ll just be a minute, then? Oh, I see the car coming. I think everything’s okay, Giles. I’d better hang up, talk to Oz. Thanks. Bye.”
“She’s a traitor,” one of Adam’s legion spoke up. “She lives with humans, kills us. Why do you need her?” He was an M’Fashnik demon; huge, hulking, one of the few who ever dared contradict the cyborg on even minor points.
Adam’s head swivelled to stare at the demon. “A good question.” He turned back to Harmony. “Prove your worth.”
“What, you expect me to fight him?” Harmony asked, taking a couple of steps towards the massive M’Fashnik and looking up at him nervously. “He’s massive! Even the Slayer …” she broke off and kicked the demon in the kneecap without warning. She scraped her boot viciously down his shin in a continuation of the move, and used her momentum to add force to a follow-up punch to the groin. She stepped in, drove the elbow of her other arm into his stomach, butted him in the face as he doubled up, and kneed him in the groin. He swung a clumsy punch at her, which she dodged with ease, ducking under it and punching him in the floating ribs. Another kick to the knee and the M’Fashnik toppled to the ground. Harmony kicked him in the face, hard enough to lift him from the ground and send him crashing into the wall of the cave, and pounced on him as he bounced back to the floor. She straddled the demon, seized his chin with one hand, grasped the back of his head with the other, and wrenched hard. “… would have no problem at all with this idiot,” she finished her sentence, and stepped away from the limp body. “She trained me. I’m the only vampire in the world to have been trained by a Slayer, and I could take her out in a moment if it wasn’t for this microchip thing in my head.”
“I could remove that for you. Are you interested?”
Harmony licked her lips, and her eyes half closed. “Oh yeah. Get rid of it. I want to taste blood straight from the veins again. Want to be free.” She morphed into game face and snarled. “And if another fucking human tries to rape me I want to be able to rip off his dick and shove it up his ass.”
“What about Riley Finn?” Adam enquired. “I hear that you are involved with him. Could you kill him?”
“No,” Harmony admitted. “I don’t want to kill him. I want him to be with me forever.” She laughed, and reverted to her human countenance. “Not just for maybe forty years and him getting old and ugly. Forever young. Like me.”
Oz sat on Spike’s bed and sorted through his CD collection. “Man, you’ve got some good stuff here,” he observed. “Shame it’s almost all bootlegs.”
“I didn’t pay for them anyway,” Spike admitted. “Ate the stallholder, nicked the stock. One of the things that got us run out of Prague. Bought some of the genuine ones, though. Less hassle, no bleeding alarms going off, and the guys who do the music get their share of the money. Seemed only fair.”
Oz shook his head. “Strange way of looking at things you’ve got. How’s everything been working out for you?”
“Pretty good, considering. Haven’t killed anybody, haven’t nicked anything, got some good pals, and I’m shagging the Slayer. Things don’t get much better.” Spike picked up a couple of the CDs and hit the ‘open’ button on his stereo. “What’d you like? Something to cheer you up or something really miserable to match your mood? ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’, maybe?”
“As long as it’s not Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, or Howlin’ Wolf, I don’t mind,” Oz replied.
“Okay,” Spike grinned. “I’ll start with Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs’ ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, then Duran Duran with ‘Hungry like the Wolf’, and then Rancid’s album ‘And out come the Wolves’, maybe A-Ha’s ‘Cry Wolf’ …” He broke off as Oz punched him on the shoulder.
“Bastard,” the werewolf said affectionately. “Stick on something gloomy. I’m in the sort of mood where I used to put on Radiohead, but I traded ‘OK Computer’ in Tibet. I got a lot of mileage out of the barter system.”
“Okay, have a listen to this,” the vampire suggested, and put on ‘The Buffalo Skinners’. “Don’t think you can beat Big Country for lyrics that make you want to kill yourself, with guitar playing that makes you want to live for ever so that you can keep listening.”
“Yeah,” Oz agreed, and sat silently listening for a while as ‘Alone’ and ‘Seven Waves’ played. “Guess I should phone Devon, tell him I’m crashing here instead,” he said eventually. “Sure you don’t mind, Spike? I mean, you’ve only got the one bed, not even a couch.”
“Not a problem” Spike assured him. “I’ll sleep on the floor in front of the door. I’ve slept in a coffin before now, the floor’s no hardship, and you can be sure you won’t get out if your control slips again. Mind, I’ve got nothing in for breakfast. Except some Weetabix, but the only stuff I’ve got to put on it is blood. Have to eat at the canteen. You still registered as a student?”
“Yep. I always meant to come back. Always thought she’d wait for me. How am I going to get through this? I don’t know if I can go on without her. She was what was keeping me going. What I conquered the beast for.”
“You’ve got the strength. You’ll make it.” Spike handed over his mobile phone, and waited while Oz rang his former band-mate. “I’ll skip over the next few tracks,” he said after the call finished. “They’re a bit political. Ever heard this one?”
Oz lay back on the bed and listened to ‘Ships’. Lyrics from the blackest pits of despair, music to match, gradually climbing into a soaring guitar melody which could lift any heart. “Man, that’s brilliant,” he commented, as the track ended. “They ought to give Stuart Adamson the Nobel Prize for electric guitar. You know what? I don’t feel so bad now. Feel pretty good, in fact.”
“Rock therapy,” Spike grinned. “Remember when you played me Rush’s ‘Free Will’ on the way to LA? Sorted me out good and proper. Okay, have a listen to this.” He ejected the Big Country CD, and pulled out Richard Thompson’s ‘Rumour and Sigh’. “Bloody brilliant guitar playing and, would you believe, rock hurdy-gurdy. Works for me.”
“So when are you going to take the chip out?” Harmony asked. Adam’s retinue of vampires and demons had been summarily dismissed, and they were alone now.
“Once I have control of the Initiative laboratories,” Adam promised. “I don’t have the facilities to do it here.”
“So how’d you expect me to do anything against the humans?” she asked, frowning. “I can’t take out the Slayer, or turn Riley, if I’m lying on the floor holding my head and screaming.”
“I can broadcast a signal which will suppress the chip for twelve hours,” he revealed. “Timing is critical. I need to manoeuvre the Slayer’s party into position at the right time, and that’s where you come in.”
“I’m guessing it’s not just my chip that’ll get suppressed, right? Riley said they’d been catching plenty, filling the place up. You’re doing that Trojan thing, right? The horse, not the condoms.” Harmony grinned, and then frowned once more. “I don’t get why you want the Slayer there. Suppose she wins? She does that a lot. Even if she doesn’t she’ll mess your guys up bad, her and Spike, and no way could I take out both of them. Not unless I did it sneaky, in the dorms, catch them off guard one at a time.”
“She can’t defeat me. I don’t care how many casualties my forces take, they are expendable, and in fact I want casualties. Total annihilation of the humans is no use to me. I am playing a tricky balancing game, in which you will be my trump card, and for which you will be well rewarded. It is crucial that they continue to trust you right up to the last moment.”
“Which means you’ll lose a few more demons. Got to keep killing them if the humans are to trust me. Guess you don’t care much about that, right? So why should I trust you?”
“A fair question. I have uses for the dead, but I would have no use for a dead vampire. You would revert to dust. It is your skills that are valuable to me. It is in my own interests to preserve you alive, or rather undead, and thus to hold to our deal.”
“Okay, I get that. But I get to turn Riley, right? And I want the Slayer’s blood. Want to give it to Rye as his first meal after he rises. It’s supposed to be this big afro thing. Not the big hair, the big turn on. Sex.” She made an obscene gesture, and giggled.
“Aphrodisiac? Very well. I will do my best to ensure that you get her blood. I will be replacing it with other fluids anyway. Now, tell me about Spike. I have been assured that he is a vampire, by former associates of his who could hardly be mistaken, and yet he can expose himself to sunlight. What is his secret?”
“It’s a stuffed yak,” Willow explained, showing Buffy the present Oz had given her. “He brought it back for me from Tibet. He’s so sweet, and he’s done this huge thing, beating the wolf, and I really hate hurting him. I sorta wish I could have both him and Tara.”
“Love doesn’t work like that, Will,” Buffy warned her. “If you try to have it both ways you’ll lose everything.”
“I know,” Willow said sadly. “Like you told me, whatever I said somebody was going to get hurt, and when it came down to a choice I had to go for Tara. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to keep Oz as a friend.”
“It’ll be hard, for both of you, but maybe it’ll work out,” Buffy said. “I mean, Spike said once that me and Angel would never be friends, but we are now. Sort of, anyway. Him being in LA and me being here probably helps. It’ll be harder for you, but worth a try. Friends are good. Hey, who’d ever have thought of us being friends with Harmony?”
“Okay, so you’re a cyborg demon,” Harmony sang as she strode through the woods. “That don’t impress me much. So you’ve got the brain but have you got the touch? Don’t get me wrong, yeah I think you’re all right, but that won’t keep me warm in the middle of the night. That don’t impress -” She broke off as a scream reached her ears. She froze, located the origin of the sound, and took off at a run.
Graham shook his head, desperately trying to clear it, and crawled towards where his gun lay on the ground. The hairy creature that had felled him was now bending over Willis, its jaws gaping wide, poised to rip out the young soldier’s throat. Suddenly it shot backwards, howling, and spun through the air to crash heavily into a tree. “Tailspin!” a female voice shouted gleefully. A girl had hold of the monster’s tail, and she pulled hard on it again, heaving the beast into the air, and whirled it like a hammer thrower to smash into another tree with shattering force. The demon collapsed limp to the ground, and the girl released its tail. Or rather, the vampire. Not a girl. Fangs, ridged forehead, eyes gleaming yellow even in the pale moonlight.
A second creature had just knocked Mason sprawling against another tree. It turned, growling, and leaped towards the vampire. She caught it, threw herself onto her back as it reached her, planted her foot into its stomach and threw it high into the air. “Tomoe-nage!” the girl cried, rolling and coming to her feet again. “Man, I’m hot tonight.”
The demon hit the ground hard. It rose unsteadily to its feet, and approached her slowly, moving awkwardly. “Wanna get your tail pulled too, monkey boy?” the vampire mocked. Graham recognised her voice. Harmony Kendal. “Hope you’re not a werewolf,” Harmony said, drawing a hunting knife from her belt. “’Cause, only silver I’ve got is my pendant, and getting that into your vital bits could get kinda yucky.”
Graham reached his gun and tried to aim, but his hand was trembling and his vision was blurred. Mason was retrieving his electric shock rifle, but was not yet ready to fire, and Willis lay still.
Harmony didn’t need any assistance. She kicked the beast under the jaw, knocking its head back, and drove her knife home to the hilt in its exposed throat. It made a hideous gurgling noise and clawed at her arm; she ripped the knife sideways, tearing a huge gash in the creature’s throat, and pulled it free. The beast fell to the ground, blood gushing from the wound, shuddered for a moment, and then lay still.
“So, not a werewolf, I guess,” Harmony deduced, and went to check out her first opponent. Its skull had shattered against the tree trunk; the creature was dead. She wiped her knife on its fur, replaced it in its sheath, and resumed her human features. “Yay me! Three in one night. I so rock! Hi, Graham, need a hand up?”
“I’m getting left behind here,” Buffy pouted. “The Chosen One, and I’m not even getting on the podium. Harmony’s the new champ.”
“She’s doing a good job, right enough, love,” Spike agreed. “Going at it too sodding hard, if you ask me. So bloody determined to prove to Riley’s mates that she’s a good guy that she’s going to take on something she can’t handle one of these days.”
“Think she’s probably proved that already. They sent her a humungous bunch of flowers today. Anya’s half jealous ‘cause they’re lovely, half annoyed ‘cause they’re taking up too much space in the room, and half really pleased for her. Which is three halves, okay, Math not my major. Still, nice for her. Know why, in particular?”
“Riley says she saved Graham’s life last night, and Mason and Willis too. If she hadn’t come to their rescue they’d have got eaten.”
“So how come we don’t get the chance to pull any dramatic rescues?” Buffy moaned. “Flowers would be nice.”
“Half of her fan club in the Initiative dates back to when she did her naked escape act, pet,” Spike reminded her with a leer. “If you want them to send you flowers you might have to flash your boobs a bit as well as rescuing the blokes from demons.”
“Topless Slaying,” Buffy giggled. “Me, and Harmony, and Willow, and Anya, could be the Booby Scoobies. Only, where would we keep our stakes?”
Spike decided that discretion would be the better part of valour and refrained from making a suggestion.
“Hey, I know this guy,” Riley exclaimed, looking at the vampire behind the glass wall. Six foot tall, hair clipped short, muscles swelling the sleeves of his shirt.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the nearest scientist commiserated. “He’s a victim of HST infestation now. A vampire. Not the man you knew any longer.”
“No, I mean I know this Hostile. Only he’s not hostile. Works as a bouncer in the toughest night-club in town. Does a useful job. Let him go.”
“You don’t have the authority to order that, Agent Finn,” the scientist pointed out. “Only Colonel McNamara can authorise the release of a Hostile.”
“Come on, get real. He’s no threat.”
“I have my orders. If you’ve objections, take them to Colonel McNamara.”
Riley was becoming annoyed at the scientist’s impassive demeanour. “Fine. I’ll do that. But don’t you dare go putting any damn implant in his head.”
“We haven’t got one ready at the moment. When one is prepared we will install it, as per standard operating procedure.”
“Well, fuck you too,” Riley muttered, turning on his heel and storming off.
Halfway to the Colonel’s office he bumped into Forrest. “Hey, Rye, my man,” Forrest greeted him. “Did your girl like the flowers?”
“She loved them, Forrest. I take it you’ve changed your mind about her?”
“Well, seeing as how if it wasn’t for her Willis wouldn’t have a face, I’m all on board the Harmony supporters’ boat,” the shaven-headed agent grinned. “Gray wants to know, does she eat chocolates?”
“Only soft centres,” Riley replied. “Look, there’s a Hostile just been brought in, and I know him. He works as a nightclub bouncer, keeps his nose clean, and Buffy and Spike know about him and have a deal that if he doesn’t eat anyone they leave him alone. If the white coats stick a chip in his brain he’s fucked. I’ve seen that club, man. If a Hell’s Angel walks in it raises the tone of the place. Any human trying to do his job is going to be fish food in a week. I’m on my way to ask McNamara to let him go.”
“Best of luck,” Forrest wished him. “Don’t hold out too much hope. McNamara’s an asshole desk jockey. If it’s not in the book he’s not going to do it.”
“We’ll see about that,” Riley said determinedly, strode on, and knocked on the Colonel’s door.
Five minutes later he still hadn’t managed to persuade McNamara to see his point. “Look,” Riley insisted. “Do you know who that guy was when he was alive? Allan Charles Ellis of the 82nd Airborne. Awarded the Silver Star twice, for D-Day and Nijmegen. Hell, I’ve seen a biography of him on the History Channel! Okay, so he’s dead and there’s an organism animating his body, but it’s got his memories. Sticking one of those implants in his brain is an insult. It’s like desecrating the grave of a war hero. Cut the Hostile some slack, Colonel, for God’s sake.”
“A decorated war hero, you say? That’s fantastic,” the Colonel beamed. “We could really use a Hostile like that. Familiar with weapons, accustomed to taking orders.” He realised that Riley was staring at him oddly, and wiped the smile from his face, reverting to a cold official manner. “I’ll take your point on board, soldier. I’ll give orders that he be treated with all due respect. Dismissed.”
“Oh God,” Riley whispered. He leaned against the corridor wall and wiped his brow. ‘Buffy was right,’ he thought. ‘This is nothing to do with protecting the public. They’re making disposable killers. That’s why Havilland had to go. And Harmony is a field experiment, just as she guessed, and now she’s shown how useful she is they’ll be dragging her back in here before long.’ He straightened up. “Come on, Riley Finn,” he muttered to himself. “Pull yourself together. You’ve got work to do.” He set off back towards the labs, trying to project as much confidence and authority into his stride as possible.
“So how’d you get on with the Colonel?” Forrest asked.
“Not good,” Riley admitted. He lowered his voice. “He wasn’t just being an asshole. I mentioned that the guy had been a war hero when he was alive, and McNamara perked right up, was far too interested. If we’re just restraining the Hostiles so they can’t kill people, or even if we’re trying to wipe them out, what the fuck does it matter if one of them was a combat soldier?”
Forrest whistled softly. “Holy shit! Janissaries.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Riley agreed. “Slave soldiers, or maybe hit men. I don’t know about you, but that sort of thing is not what I signed up for.”
“Me neither,” Forrest agreed. “But I did sign up, so I guess I’m stuck with it.”
“Maybe,” Riley replied. “But this unit doesn’t officially exist. If I decide to quit what the Hell can they do about it?”
“Legally, not a lot,” his friend warned him, “but I bet they’d come up with some way of making your life unpleasant. Or short.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Riley declared. “See you around, Forrest.”
“See you, Rye. Give my regards to Harmony.”
Riley returned to the lab and approached the cage which held the vampire. The former soldier who was a witness to him committing a double murder. “I spoke to Colonel McNamara,” he told the man who was observing the vampire through the glass.
“If you want the Hostile released I need a written order,” the scientist said unemotionally.
Riley kept his face impassive. “Colonel McNamara says he is to be treated with all due respect as a former decorated war veteran,” he stated, sticking to the truth. “I want to talk to the Hostile. Face to face. No barriers.”
“He’ll have to be restrained,” the scientist pointed out, “and you’ll have to hand over your sidearm before you go in.”
“Sure thing,” Riley agreed. “I’ll take a stake for last resort personal defence.”
The request seemed reasonable. If the vampire managed to gain possession of the stake it would pose no threat to anyone outside the enclosure. The scientist agreed to the request without even thinking. A pair of handcuffs was dropped into the cage through the ceiling hatch, and the Hostile was instructed to fasten them on himself, hands behind his back. An armed guard covered the exit, and the door slid open to allow Riley to step inside.
“Sergeant Ellis,” he addressed the vampire. “I’m Riley Finn.” The door slid closed behind him.
“We’ve met,” the vampire replied. “Didn’t know your name. Didn’t know you knew mine, and no-one in Sunnydale calls me anything but Ace. You’ve done your homework.”
“You were one Hell of a soldier,” Riley said. “I tried to get you released. The brass wouldn’t listen.”
“They never do.” Ace smiled bitterly. “So, what’s in store for me here?”
“Lab rat. Maybe tame assassin if the tech boys pretty toys work as advertised,” Riley informed him honestly. “A puppet with them pulling the strings. I can’t get you out, but I can offer you a better end for a soldier.”
“What’s going on, Finn?” an anxious voice came over the intercom. “What did you say?” Riley ignored it.
“I’ve heard rumours about this place,” Ace told him. “I should have stayed in the club, I know, but I was going stir crazy. Thought I’d be safe just taking a walk to the butcher’s to pick up some blood.” He stood to attention. “I was ready to die rather than be captured by the SS. Guess this isn’t much different. Do it. I’d salute, but the cuffs get in the way. Thanks, Finn. Goodbye.” He inflated his chest and began to sing. “We’re All American and proud to be; for we’re the soldiers of liberty. Some ride the gliders through the enemy; others are sky paratroopers.”
Riley drove the stake through his chest and the song came to an abrupt end. He dropped the stake on the floor and snapped his hand up in a salute as the door slid open and the guard rushed in through the cloud of dust. Riley lowered his arm and quoted another line from the official song of the 82nd Airborne. “Take your bumps, let’s go.”
“I feel like shit, you know,” Riley admitted to Spike and Giles. “Keep wondering whether there was anything else I could have done. Wondering whether the fact that he could have put me in jail influenced my thinking at all. Did I do the right thing?”
“You’re asking the wrong bloke for advice on moral issues,” Spike reminded him. “But, yeah, I think you did the right thing. If it had been me in his shoes I’d have been glad of it. Don’t know how Harm’s coped so well, I’d have gone crazy, and she got out before they really got going on her. Don’t think the tests they’d have done to check that chip out would have been fun at all. At least she dodged that bit. You spared him the whole thing, and it was his choice. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I agree with Spike,” Giles said. “You did the best you could, under the circumstances, and gave him a quick and clean death rather than a painful imprisonment. Now you are in the unpleasant situation of living in a dormitory hall with a group of former colleagues, some of whom may regard you as a deserter, and you feel your girlfriend may be in dire peril from the organisation from which you have just resigned. I really don’t know how we are going to be able to resolve this situation; but we will give you whatever assistance we can.” He poured a generous helping of single malt whisky into three glasses and passed one to Riley and one to Spike. “To Sergeant Allan Charles ‘Ace’ Ellis of the Eighty-second Airborne,” he proposed, and the three men raised their glasses and drank. They remained silent for a moment, and then Giles spoke again. “I have found out some more about the Jewel of Basra.”
“I’m going to be living off campus, and the only class we shared is the only one I’ve been scrubbed from,” Oz told Willow. “We don’t have to see that much of each other, really.”
“We can still meet up,” Willow said. “Sometimes. Could you stand for it to be me and you and Tara? Spike and Buffy too, sometimes, Xander and his girlfriend maybe?”
“So, not just us two.” Oz gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, I can deal with that. Maybe it’s best. And, you know, I really like Tara. But I think mainly if I meet up with you it’ll be when Spike’s there.”
“You’re still good friends with Spike?”
“Yeah. Guess if anyone can understand what I’ve been through it’s him. Harmony too, I suppose, but I’ve never liked her. She seems to like me, and to like you these days, but I’ve always regarded her as a sly backstabbing bitch.”