After the Creation, the cruel god Moloch rebelled against the authority of Marduk the Creator. Moloch stole from Marduk the most powerful of all the artifacts of the gods, the Amulet of Yendor, and he hid it in the dark cavities of Gehennom, the Under World, where he now lurks, and bides his time.
-- From the Ahriman Scrolls

 I. Reflections

 Rupert Giles sat at his desk, leaned back, removed the glasses from his face, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. This had been a long day, a tiring day, and he saw little sign of its imminent end. Between his duties as Watcher to Buffy Summers' Slayer and his duties as librarian of Sunnydale High School, it was a wonder to Giles that he had any time to himself. He sighed, realizing that his work was never done, would never be done. In the morning his final operating budget request for the library was due on Principal Flutie's desk, and he hadn't even started on that work, his responsibilities to Buffy these past few weeks and months consuming so much of his time.

 And then there were his responsibilities to Willow.

 Were there responsibilities to Willow? He thought there were. If Buffy were content with her duties to be the Slayer, then why could Willow not be content to be a Student? Willow had no formal training as a vampire hunter, all she had was her innate sense of right and wrong and a will and desire to help others when and where she could. But did that compel her to go out alongside Buffy, as she had the other night in the park or that very night in the sewers where Buffy had confronted the Master, putting her very life at risk? Certainly Buffy knew the risks she was taking, but was Willow so sure of hers?

 The evening's events, still fresh in his mind, replayed in his mind's eye as he lazily stirred a cup of tea on his desk. Buffy recounted, in her scattershot manner, the story of the descent into the sewers with the Doctor, mixed with interjections by others, most notably Xander and the young fellow Wil, of their attempt at pursuing the vampire that had made off with Fiona Abellard. The Doctor held his thoughts to himself, preferring to observe the storytellers, and Angel had merely melted into the shadows in the corner of the library, most likely to brood. An impromptu council of war ensued, with the general consensus being that the vampires would not attack again that night, now that the Slayer knew something of their plans. Buffy was, not surprisingly, the one holdout against that consensus, full of the youthful enthusiasm that being a Slayer required, but the Doctor's raised hand stayed the discussion.

The Doctor and Wil departed, the Doctor having an important meeting that evening (according to him, in any event), Angel disappeared into the shadows, and Xander was afraid to let Buffy go out alone, which, thought Giles, made little sense given that Buffy was the Slayer and thus had more experience with the supernatural than did Xander and thus more able to take care of herself alone than if she also had to worry about Xander's safety. But Giles understood the lad's motives; he had been young once and knew a thing or two about the notions of chivalry, even if Xander would never think of his actions in those terms. A smile crossed Giles' face as he considered this.

 It was his conversation with Willow that concerned him the most. She had been the last of the group to leave the library that evening, and Giles found his memories drawn back to that conversation.

 "I'm ovulating," Willow began. Giles was seated at his desk, and surprised by Willow's frank remark, peered over his glasses at her. Apparently sensing the snatch of confusion crossing Giles' mind, Willow stammered, "At least, I think I am."

 Giles tutted, as he leaned across his desk. "Uhm," he stammered. "How, uhm, do you know?" not asking the question that he wanted to ask, namely, How is this important?

 Willow flicked her head to the side slightly, then chuckled. "I'm a woman, Giles. Women know these things." She paused. "I could just kinda feel it. I think that's why the vampires wanted me. And Fiona. She must be ovulating, too."

 Giles nodded imperceptibly. "And why would this be important to the vampires?"

 "I don't know," said Willow with a shrug. "Maybe they want to breed, create half-vampires or something."

 "Hmm. A dhampyre, then."

 Willow wrinkled her brow in confusion. "A what-pire?"

 "A dhampyre," explained Giles patiently. "A vampire/human half-breed, able to exist in the human world, but with all the powers of the vampire and none of the disadvantages." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Purely legendary, spoken of only as a possibility in the old legends. Vampires are, as a general rule, sterile and unable to mate, let alone engage in sexual relations of any sort. Unlikely, I should say."

 "But what about the alien technology? Couldn't it be possible to do an artificial insemination? I mean, there are ways sterile humans can mate, so why not vampires?"

 Giles sighed. "Remember, Willow, that I am just a librarian, and a rusty one at that. I can't say one way or another what modern technology makes possible. It may well be possible, but I don't know how likely it would be. My guess--and this is only a guess, mind you--is that the resulting child would be fully human, because vampirism is very likely not a genetic condition. One isn't born a vampire, not that I've ever discovered. Vampires are made." He paused again, then continued. "Perhaps the Doctor knows otherwise. But I can only tell you what I know." The library fell into silence as Giles's voice trailed away. As Giles mentioned the Doctor, he noticed a look cross Willow's face, one of amusement, dreaminess, what? He couldn't say for certain, but he felt sure that Willow tuned him out for a brief moment. Fortunately, he hadn't said anything vital just then, but this was something to at least make note of.

 Just as Giles was about to rise and walk Willow to the door of the library, she said, "Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

 "And who might that be, my dear?" asked Giles, a tone of confusion entering his voice.

 "The Doctor," she said.

 "Who reminds you of the Doctor?" he asked.

 She laughed softly, evidently amused by Giles' confusion. "No, silly. The Doctor. Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

 Giles tutted. "Not particularly. Remember, I've known him practically my whole life." He paused, reconsidering his words. "Perhaps not known, but a familiarity."

 Willow seemed to ignore him and said, "He strikes me like a Romantic poet, like Byron or Shelly." She snapped her fingers. "That's it, he's like Byron, dashing and romantic."

 Giles drew in a deep breath. "Ironic," he muttered softly.

 Willow evidently heard his quiet comment, because she asked, "How so? How is the Doctor seeming Byron-ish ironic?"

 Giles considering ignoring her, but then realized quickly that Willow would never let this question drop. "Byron himself is a vampire."

 A look of pure shock crossed Willow's face. "What? How?"

 Giles raised his hands, making a shushing motion. "A story for another time and place, I'm afraid. Suffice to say, the Order of Watchers steers clear of him, and he keeps to himself, and until such an arrangement breaks, he can and will continue in peace."

 "But where is he? Not here in Sunnydale?"

 Giles smiled sardonically. "No, certainly not. He is, where I suppose he must be, in London, master of a mansion crumbling into decay." He stopped, then looked at his watch. "It's late, Willow, and I've much work to do tonight."

 "Oh," she said. She turned towards the door, then turned back to face Giles. "Will I be alright out there tonight? The vampires and all."

 Giles considered this, then said, "I should think so. They've had enough excitement for tonight, and as the Doctor said, they know that we're aware of their activities, and so they will be laying low for the moment."

 Willow smiled widely. "They know that we know that they know. Got it."

 She opened the door, departing the library quickly. Her footsteps echoed as she walked through the deserted halls, leaving Giles to his work and his thoughts. He shook his head sadly, then made a half-smile, turning up one corner of his mouth in a smirk.

 Giles' mind wandered back to the present as he continued to stir his tea absently. He took the spoon from the tea, then brought the cup up to his lips and took a sip. Cold. How long had he been stirring the tea, how long had he been replaying the memories in his mind? Did others remember as thoroughly as he did, with the memories of the past overwhelming the experiences of the present, so that then became now? Or was this only a technique that only those with Watcher training knew? Perhaps a study would be in order, he thought, as he returned his tea mug to the desk.

 He picked up his pen and the sheaf of papers situated at the edge of the desk. The budget was still to be done.

 II. Portents

 At the top of Whitby Drive, just off Carfax Road, stood a ranch house overlooking the hills above Sunnydale. A car, its headlights on in the early evening a few hours past dusk, navigated the gravel driveway up the hill towards the ranch house, at last stopping at the end of the driveway, its engine stilled and lights dimmed. The door opened, and the Doctor stepped from the car, smoothing the lapels of his jacket just before he approached the front door and rang the bell. The door opened, and Bob Flutie, principal of Sunnydale High School beckoned for the Doctor to enter.

 "Thank you for coming, Doctor Young. I hope it wasn't an imposition," he said as he led the Doctor through the foyer and back towards the kitchen.

 The Doctor shook his head as he remembered the note from Principal Flutie that had been on his desk when he had arrived at the school in the morning. "No, no, not at all. It is always gratifying to find someone of the scientific temperament." The Doctor paused, clasping his hands behind his back. "So, what is it you wished to show me?"

 As they passed into the kitchen Flutie gestured towards the sliding glass doors and the wooden deck on the other side. "My telescope. I'm something of an amateur astronomer."

 "Oh?" said the Doctor. "How amateur?"

 Flutie shrugged, just as he slid the door open. "I know my way around the Milky Way, probably better than anyone else in Sunnydale."

 "I wouldn't imagine."

 Flutie shut the door and walked over to his telescope. He touched it gingerly, his hand moving slowly down its side. "A reflecting telescope. Six inch mirror. Does a fairly decent job. I can't imagine working with anything else." He looked straight up into the night sky, deep and black, sprinkled with stars. "This far out from the town, up here on the hills, it can get really dark at night." He paused, lost in remembrance. "Back in college, back east, it was never this dark. The sky was just too awash in the lights of the city, and you might only be able to see second, third magnitude stars with the naked eye. Up here, I'm pretty sure I can down to fifth magnitude, sixth on a very clear night."

 The Doctor looked up into the night. "I think you may well be correct." He looked at the telescope. "What are you studying tonight?"

 Flutie looked off toward the west, his hands resting lightly on his hips. "What else these days? Mars, of course."

 "Of course," echoed the Doctor.

 Flutie laughed quickly, then turned and looked at the Doctor. "And you as well." He paused, pointing a finger at the Doctor. "I've been hearing good things about you from my students. Very good things."

 The Doctor shrugged. "I couldn't imagine otherwise."

 Flutie came around the telescope, sat on the stool, and peered into the eyepiece. "I have to admit, Doctor Young, we're looking for a good science teacher. One who knows the subject, in and out. One who can connect with today's youth. One who can engage their minds." He adjusted the focus knob, then looked out past the end of the telescope up into the sky, then back into the eyepiece. "I'd like for you to consider the position."

 The Doctor rubbed his chin in contemplation. "There are some obvious advantages," he began.

 Flutie looked up from the eyepiece and at the Doctor. "Consider your position. Your son. What's in his best educational interests. Sunnydale has a reputation, I know, a bad one, but with a few dedicated professionals, teachers such as yourself, we can work and bring this school around. I know we can."

 "I shall consider it," said the Doctor. "I cannot promise anything definite as yet; I will, of course, have to discuss the matter with Wil, and were I to take the position, I cannot be certain as to how permanent it would be."

 Flutie waved his hands dismissively. "Believe me, Doctor Young, I understand. This isn't a decision to be made lightly, and certainly not without considering all the factors involved." He bent back down over the eyepiece, turned the telescope slightly, and adjusted the focus knob again. "I don't need an answer tonight."

 The Doctor nodded. "Good, good," he said.

 Suddenly, Flutie exclaimed, "I've got it! Mars, right in my sights!"

 He toyed with the focus knob yet again, then stood triumphantly. He pointed toward the west. "There, at the end of Leo."

 The Doctor looked where Flutie pointed, then said, "Might I have a look?"

 Flutie nodded, his excitement overcoming him. "Of course, of course."

 The Doctor straddled the stool and peered through the lens. "I'd forgotten what it was like to look at planets like this," said the Doctor. "Like discs in the night, circles of wonder."

 "I wonder what the astronauts must be seeing these days."

 "Astronauts," said the Doctor, with barely a hint of inflection to indicate his curiosity.

 "The Mars astronauts," said Flutie. He paused as he gazed out into the depths of the dark night. "Amazing, isn't it? We conquered the moon in the sixties, then turned our backs on it, but you Brits took the ball up and ran with it, all the way to Mars. It almost seems ironic."

 "Ironic," echoed the Doctor. "Ironic, how?"

 Flutie shook his head sadly. "Manifest Destiny. That American drive to move out past the frontier, to take that next step, that settled this country and drove our history for our first hundred, hundred and fifty years. The Space Race was probably the best thing to happen to the United States since the closing of the American west, taking us all the way to the Moon, just so that we could say we were there first. Then we back away, leaving the exploration of space to others, to let them push those frontiers. And who is it doing the exploring? The British, the very ones who settled the United States." He paused, then added, "Ironic."

 "Perhaps," said the Doctor as he stood, smoothing out his jacket. He looked out in the direction of Mars, then said, "How far are the astronauts, then?"

 Flutie searched his memory quickly, then said, "Orbit in two weeks, planetfall in three." A pause. "Incredible." Noticing the Doctor was no longer using the telescope, he quickly resumed his former position on the stool.

 The Doctor stood, looking off into space, his hands clasped behind his back, as though this were their natural position. Minutes passed in silence as Flutie adjusted the telescope. The silence was at last broken by Flutie who asked, "Something on your mind?"

 "Perhaps. A student."

 "Oh," said Flutie, his interest piqued. "Which one?"

 "Buffy Summers."

 Flutie nodded slowly. "Yes, yes." He paused. "What's your concern?"

 "Her attitude toward school is most distressing. Attending classes at her leisure, putting her grades at risk."

 "Other teachers have said the same. What do you think the problem might be?"

 "It could be any number of things," the Doctor said quickly. "Perhaps the school environment itself is the problem."

 "How so?"

 The Doctor shook his head slowly. "I'm unsure as yet. Only a hunch, an intuition, if you will."

 Flutie nodded. "Well, keep me posted, then. I like to take an active hand in my students' affairs, if I can help."

 "Of course," said the Doctor.

 Flutie turned his attention back to the telescope. "Mars is very red tonight. Almost angry looking."

 "Like the God of War, out for vengeance?"

 A sardonic grimace came to Flutie's face. "Could be." He paused. "Something bad's going to happen, isn't it. Something catastrophic."

 "Catastrophic things occur every day," replied the Doctor.

 "No, not in a general way like that. To you, to me, to Sunnydale. A storm is brewing, I can feel it. Can't you?"

 Flutie looked up to find that he was alone on the porch. The Doctor had gone.

 III. Wil

 The TARDIS door opened with its trademark hum as the Doctor pocketed his TARDIS key and removed his jacket, tossing it onto the hatstand near the central console. He looked across the console room, noticing Wil sitting on the divan. "Shouldn't you be in bed? You've an early day tomorrow with classes."

 "As do you." Wil smiled. "At least I can sleep through mine; if you did, someone would be bound to notice."

 The Doctor laughed. "I would be willing to wager that I could sleep through all my classes tomorrow and not a single student would notice."

 "That's not true," said Wil. "Willow would notice."

 The Doctor took a seat in the armchair. "She would, at that. The student apathy here, it amazes me, Wil."

 Wil poured a cup of tea and handed it to the Doctor. "How so?"

 The Doctor stirred a teaspoon of sugar into his tea, then leaned back in the chair. "The youths here, they have such potential. Such boundless energy. Yet, they do not even attempt to fulfill one-tenth of that potential. The pursuit of knowledge interests them not in the slightest."

 "I'm sure you were the same at their age."

 "What? Certainly not." The Doctor paused. "Well, on second thought, perhaps I was." He smiled. "I wasn't the best of students, no, but I was certainly the most exciteable. I've always had a love of knowledge, Wil, even if was of the most useless knowledge."

 "Really? Such as?"

 The Doctor pondered this for a moment. "Could you name the fourteen growth stages of the Metebilis Zinc Tree? I could."

 "But why would I want to?"

 "Good point, Wil. The tree went extinct ten thousand years ago." He paused. "But the point is, gaining knowledge is important. Even if it isn't useful. Sometimes the most useless knowledge has a practical use."

 "How so?"

 "Useless knowledge confounds one's enemies quite effectively." He set the teacup on the table and folded his hands in front of him.

 "Principal Flutie has asked me to stay. Here, as a teacher."

 Wil leaned forward. "I wondered when you'd mention the meeting with the Principal."

 "What do you think?"

 "I don't know." Wil paused, taking a deep breath. "I like it here. I've made friends. At least, I think I have. What do you think?"

 The Doctor leaned back. "I don't know. Not yet, at any rate. I'm a traveler, Wil. I used to make a point of not staying in one place for too long, because wanderlust would overcome me. Then, long ago, I was banished, stranded here on Earth, and that confinement nearly killed me. If not physically, then in spirit. When given the chance, I would leave Earth, for as long as I could, only to find that I missed her and her people. But could I stay, even if only for a short time? I don't know."

 "Does that mean you'll leave Buffy to deal with the Master?"

 The Doctor shook his head. "No, not at all. I must see this through, if only so that it makes sense."

 "What do you mean? It seemed so straightforward this evening."

 "No, that's just it. It only 'seemed' straightforward. I have a terrible feeling that darker matters are afoot."

 "How so?"

 "First, the Rani. We know that she is conducting medical experiments of some sort, both on vampires and humans. The mental device we found on the vampire corpse two evenings ago points to her experimentation on the local vampire population, and her desire to kidnap Willow and Fiona points to her desire to experiment on the human population as well. The question, then, is what is her ultimate goal?"

 "To cross-breed humans and vampires?" suggested Wil.

 The Doctor stroked his chin. "Perhaps, but unlikely. Why create a vampire impervious to crosses or stakes if that is her ultimate goal?"

 "I don't know," admitted Wil.

 "Neither do I, yet I feel that this is somehow important. Second, the Master."

 "Which Master?" asked Wil, remembering that there were now two Masters to consider.

 "The Master I know. My bitterest rival."

 "He's a Time Lord, like you."

 The Doctor nodded. "He was, once. He lived out his regenerations, then became something else, something blackened, and began taking over bodies to continue his schemes."

 "Possessing them, then?"

 "Yes, very much so."

 "What of the Rani? Is she a Time Lord as well?"

 "Yes."

 "I see. Sorry for the interruption."

 The Doctor tutted. "Not a bother at all. I sometimes forget that not everyone knows everyone else in these little dramas. The Master, then. Why should he want to take over the body of a vampire?"

 "Strength, perhaps? Vampires seem to be incredibly strong."

 "They are, Wil, but that can't be all of it. A vampire's immortality would be useless to the Master, assuming he can change bodies at will, because his consciousness can go on living. Then there would be some severe handicaps to his plans."

 "How so?"

 "The obvious vampire handicaps, of course. The cross I doubt would matter to the Master, but the stake would, as would the infirmity of sunlight, which would hamper his darker designs, no doubt."

 "And the vampire Master? What is his role in all this?"

 "I only wish I knew more there. Who did he bring into his evil plan first, the Rani or the Master? What were they promised? And what does he gain from their machinations?"

 They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their tea and considering. "How long have you known them, the Master and the Rani?" asked Wil.

 "Practically my whole life. A thousand years, give or take."

 "Paracastria's not that old. Not the human colony, that is." Wil took a bite from a biscuit, then asked, "How did you meet?"

 "We were classmates, students together at the Time Lord Academy, all under the tutelage of Borusa."

 "Doesn't it strike you as odd, Doctor, that three classmates from a thousand years ago would be drawn together from across time and space to be here?"

 "Perhaps, were it not for the flexion."

 "Oh, yes, the flexion," echoed Wil.

 "It acts like a beacon, drawing TARDISes, I suppose."

 Wil took a sip from his tea. "The Master. Were you and he friends?"

 "Friends? To some extent. Once he'd turned dark and evil, I encountered him in my first incarnation and no longer recognized him, but then he had also left his Gallifreyan body behind."

 "The Rani?"

 The Doctor smiled thinly. "Friends seems such a limiting word."

 "And now?"

 "Now?" The Doctor paused. "I stayed the same, and they changed. Changed very much."

 "I see," said Wil. He poured himself another cup of tea and stirred in two teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of milk. "Perhaps it was you that changed, Doctor. Not they."

 "Balderdash," said the Doctor, shaking his hand at Wil dismissively. The he stopped, looked at Wil intently, and stood. "Of course, Wil! That's the key."

 Wil stared at the Doctor. "What?"

 The Doctor bounded toward the corridor. "Tomorrow night, we must go down into the sewers again, to confront the Master. I know what his plan is."

 "You do?" asked Wil. "What is it?"

 The Doctor shook his head. "Enough of that now. We've an early day in the morning, and a late night tomorrow. We'd best be getting some sleep," he said as he disappeared down the corridor.

 Wil leaned back on the couch, his tea sitting on the table. He had a strange sensation that all his adventures with the Doctor would be like this.

 IV. Council of War

 "I'm not convinced of the logic of your plan, Doctor."

 "What would it take to convince you?"

 "I don't know. I honestly do not know."

 "Then what are your objections?"

 "Buffy."

 "I don't want her involved."

 "But, she is the Slayer. This matter should be hers."

 "You are almost treating this as an obligation, Giles."

 "As are you." A pause. "What's your interest?"

 "An ancient vendetta by my people against the vampires."

 "But what of the vendetta of the Slayers against them?"

 "Mine is older."

 "But does that make it more valid?"

 "Yes."

 "Why?"

 "Because it does."

 "Do you know how to give a straight answer?"

 "No answer is ever straight."

 A pause.

 "This is because of those other Time Lords. The Rani and the Master."

 "No."

 "It is. Admit it. It's not a vendetta against the vampires, it's a vendetta against them."

 "No, Giles, this is about events so ancient that you cannot comprehend them. They are involved to the same extent that I am involved, and just as much to blame."

 "You won't tell me what this is about."

 "There are some things no human should know. Not even a Watcher."

 "A Watcher should especially know. And a Slayer should especially be there."

 "This is not the Slayer's fight. It's mine."

 A pause.

 "You're decided then? Nothing I can say with dissuade you?"

 "No."

 "If you won't have Buffy's help, at least accept her as a back-up."

 "If I don't achieve my goal."

 "Correct."

 "I'm uncomfortable. Even with that."

 "But if you succeed, then what will it matter?"

 A pause.

 "Very well. I will need one hour to accomplish my goal."

 "You realize Buffy will not like this."

 "You realize you will have to find a way to convince Buffy of the necessity."

 "That will not be easy. She's very determined."

 "With that determination she could die. She should have such a determination to live."

 V. Brink of War

 The Doctor and Wil lifted the manhole cover and slid it across the road. "Are you sure you want to do this, Doctor?"

 The Doctor stood and studied the darkening sky. "There is no one more qualified."

 Wil nodded. "I know. I only wish you'd take me with you."

 The Doctor shook his head. "I must do this alone."

 "But why?"

 The Doctor sighed. "I was there at the beginning. I must see this through to the end."

 "I don't understand. What do you mean, 'the beginning'?"

 The Doctor laid a hand on Wil's shoulder. "I'll explain later. I promise."

 "You'll come back, then?"

 "One way or another." He looked down at the manhole, then back at Wil. "You know what you must do?"

 "Step one, keep Buffy out of the way. Step two, if that fails, Plan B."

 The Doctor nodded. "Good luck, Wil."

 "You too, Doctor."

 The Doctor clambered through the manhole, dropping down to the sewer below. He reached into his jacket, removed the halogen lamp he had secreted there, and flicked the lamp on, revealing the dank tunnel, its walls crawling with green algae and the floor covered with a half-inch of standing muck. He looked around, and set off in the direction he and Buffy had gone the night before toward the vampire lair.

 He traveled a hundred yards, more, before he realized he was being trailed. Fifty yards further on, he knew that there were now four vampires about him. He stopped. "You needn't hide. I know where you are. All four of you."

 A female vampire stepped forward out of the shadows. "Your hearing is excellent." She gestured, and three other vampires appeared.

 "We haven't been formally introduced," said the Doctor.

 "No, we have not."

 "I have an appointment with the Master. Your Master."

 "Does he have you in his schedule?"

 "He'll make room for me, I'm sure."

 "You seem certain of yourself. Given that you came alone."

 "I'm always certain of myself. Especially when I'm alone."

 The vampire smiled, revealing her pointed fangs. "The Master is expecting you. We'd best not keep him waiting."

 "But you didn't even ask my name."

 "I didn't need it. He said only one man would dare enter his lair so boldly." She turned and beckoned for her companions and the Doctor to follow.

 The Master's lair was just as he remembered it, the Rani's TARDIS situated off to the side, two medical tables, a television, and several couches. Several vampires milled about, their heads turning toward the newcomers. A withered vampire with leathery skin and pointed ears sat on one of the couches, the Rani lay sprawled across another. Seeing the new arrivals, the Rani stood, a smile crossing her face. "Ah, Doctor, you're bolder than I remembered. Your last incarnation would never have endangered himself so."

 "Perhaps not. But in this incarnation I've found an active hand causes fewer problems."

 The Rani crossed the distance between them. "Wisdom in your old age? Or your youth? You surprise me, Doctor."

 "As do you."

 "Me? Whatever have I done to surprise you?"

 "To have so knowingly walked into such an obvious trap."

 "Trap? I have no idea what you mean. Surely you've mistaken me for you. You are the one that walked into a trap."

 The Master stood and raised his hand, silencing the whispers of the other vampires and bringing the attention of the room to him. "Doctor, I am so glad that you have come. You honor us all with your presence."

 The Doctor walked up to the Master and stared him in the eyes. "And which Master are you?"

 "Is it not obvious?"

 The Doctor studied the Master's face intently, and knew. This was indeed the vampire, ancient by their standards, young by his. "And the other Master?"

 The Master clapped his hands together, and from the recesses of the cave two vampires wheeled another medical table into the lair, a humanoid strapped to the table. One look, and the Doctor knew this was his long-time acquaintance the Master.

 "Release him," said the Doctor, "and I will let you live. For now."

 The Master laughed, an unearthly cackle that filled the lair. "You amuse me, Doctor." He paused, then cried, "Seize him!" Suddenly, four vampires swarmed on the Doctor, tackling him, then dragging him to one of the empty medical tables, strapping him to it.

 "This isn't part of the plan," said the Rani. She spun on the Master. "You lied to me."

 "Do you honestly think I would have allied myself with you willingly, Rani?"

 "Why shouldn't you? I've provided you with technology, medical knowledge. I can help you create vampires that can withstand anything. Anything."

 "And go against your own people? Your own customs?"

 The Rani scowled. "What do you mean?"

 "Do you think me such a fool that I do not know of the Time Lords and the Oaths of Rassilon?"

 "What do you mean?"

 The Master shook his head. "You needn't lie to me anymore. For your lies, you will be the first to die." He turned and began to walk away.

 The Rani reached out and grabbed the Master's shoulder. "No!" she cried as vampires descended upon her and she fell into unconsciousness. Two vampires lifted her body and strapped her to the other medical table.

 "Your plan will not work," said the Doctor.

 The Master walked up to the Doctor and looked at him. "And what do you think is my plan?"

 "Vengeance. For crimes you feel the Time Lords have committed against you."

 "You intrigue me, Doctor. You do not delude yourself as these two do."

 Despite his bindings, the Doctor shrugged. "I merely have different delusions."

 "As do we all." He turned to walk away, then turned back to the Doctor. "And what do you think my plan might be?"

 "Will you tell me if I'm wrong?"

 "You know the answer to that. You are not the fool the Rani is."

 "I thought as much," said the Doctor, knowing the Master meant "no." He took a deep breath, then said, "A Time Lord destroyed your master. You mean to avenge that destruction."

 "And the Time Lord that destroyed my lord and master?"

 "Borusa. The tutor of the Rani, the Master, and myself."

 "And the role of the Rani and the Master?"

 "The Rani is easy. Play to her ego, provide her with a challenge for experimentation. I doubt a Time Lord has experimented upon a vampire since the days of Rassilon, millions of years ago."

 "And she has done well, providing my coven with defenses against the Slayer and her friends."

 "But not permanently."

 If the Master had eyebrows, his would have flicked upward. "Oh?"

 "The Rani would ensure that her inventions will not function without her direct involvement, so that you could not remove her without impunity."

 "A master stroke, wouldn't you agree? I had, of course, anticipated this."

 "Of course. The Master's role has been somewhat more difficult to puzzle out."

 "But you have," said the Master.

 "Naturally."

 "And that would be?"

 "The flexion. Only a fold in space-time could have generated the flexion, but no natural phenomenon could create the energies needed to fold space-time to such a degree. The Master, however, would have sufficient knowledge and means to create a flexion, due in no doubt to some evil scheme he perpetrated at some time or another."

 "And the flexion, then?"

 "A beacon, to draw the Rani and I, like moths to a flame."

 The Master threw his head back and laughed. This time, his followers joined in. "I must congratulate you, Doctor. You have seen more than either of these two. But not enough, I'm afraid."

 The Doctor scowled. "What else is there?"

 The Master smiled, his sharp, foul teeth shining brightly. "What do I have to gain? Beyond mere vengeance. Immortality. And not as a vampire."

 "What do you mean?"

 "I can steal the energies of Time Lord regeneration, and thanks to the knowledge of your Master, I can take for myself a new body, powered by the life energies of your remaining lives and the remaining lives of the Rani."

 "How do you plan on triggering a regeneration?"

 The Master held out his hands, and two vampires appeared at his side, placing a stake and a hammer in his hand. "A traditional manner. For vampires." He placed the tip of the stake above the Rani's breast, raised the hammer, and struck down, driving the wooden stake through the chest of the unconscious Rani.

 TO BE CONTINUED...