Part Eleven

"If you're cold, you could go take a hot shower. I'll be happy to assist, just like this morning. Pretend I'm washing your back, and front, and sides, and bottom and whatever else presents itself." Ethan said with a leer as Willow tapped the thermostat.

Buffy went by her friend, calling out to her mother in the living room. "Mom! Can I go ahead and eat? I've got to patrol and then I've got to write that paper."

"Yes, yes... go ahead since it's almost 7:30." Joyce answered without stopping her pacing. "Where is he? He's an hour late."

"Oh don't worry Mrs. Summers." Willow said as she settled onto the couch and wrapped an afghan around her. "Giles is probably down at the bookstore. He gets in there and just zones out and forgets about everything."

"Yes Ripper loves his books. He's turned into such a boring sod." Ethan commented as he assumed the position of laying his head on Willow's lap. He smiled up at her as he watched her shiver a little. He greatly enjoyed his new 'game' of chilling Willow and Rupert. Didn't seem to work on Buffy or Joyce, but when you're dead you take your pleasures as you can.

"I suppose. But I dropped him off downtown at a quarter after five and he promised to be back by now." Joyce stopped her pacing and came over to the wrapped Willow. "You have been cold since yesterday, are you coming down with something? Do you want me to fix you some hot tea or...." She stopped mid sentence and made a dash for the phone, answering it on the first ring. "Rupert?!"

After a second of hesitation Matt began to speak. "Ah... no Ma'am. This is his kid, Matt and he gave me this number a couple of day ago. Is this where he's hanging out?"

Joyce's brain cranked as she tried to recall the reason he had given his son for staying at a friend's home. "Oh! Yes this is where he's staying while they, they fix that sewer line. But he's not here right now. This is Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother. Do you want me to give him a message."

"Yes Ma'am. Tell him that he's a bigger rodeč than me and that Sam is going to fly out there and pick everybody up for the wedding."

"Fly out and pick us up?" Joyce questioned with no small amount of surprise.

"Yes Ma'am. Sam's footing the time and fuel as a wedding present. He was thinking about coming in the Saturday before, so everybody has time to get aquatinted before the craziness starts."

"Well, Willow is coming and your Father and myself. Buffy has changed her mind about six times but at the moment she says she's attending. But I'm not sure about Mr. Wyndam-Pryce."

Buffy stood in the doorway holding a bowl of chili listening to the conversation. she curled her lip. "Yeah, I'm going and so is Wesley. Wouldn't want to miss seeing that jerk stuffed into a monkey suit."

"Tell him I said 'Hi'!" Willow chirped in.

"Me too!" Ethan added.

"Oh... she just said that both she and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce are defiantly coming, and Willow says 'Hi'."

"Tell her the same back at her.." Matt muttered half to himself, half over the phone as he wrote the names down. "Now, Dad said he was bringing a friend. Is anybody else going to have someone coming with them?"

"No, I don't believe so." She answered then asked. "Willow, are you bringing a guest?"

Rosenberg looked pained and shook her head.

Joyce glanced at Buffy. "How about you or Wesley?"

"Get real mom." Buffy mumbled. Joyce went back to the phone conversation. "No, I'm the only one coming as a guest."

Back in Ohio Matt blinked a couple of times as the California conversation filtered through. Willow was there, Buffy was there, her mom was there...whose house was this? "Are you the 'friend' that's coming along with Dad?"

"Yes, and I can't wait to meet you and your wife to be. Buffy and Willow have told me so much about you and the Alliance. While I've got you on the phone I was wondering if you could tell me what the weather will be like up there. Should we pack for.."

Karen looked up from her newspaper as Matt plopped down on the couch and looked pained. "What's the matter?"

Matt covered the mouthpiece and groused. "My Old Man's seein' the Slayer's Mom! Ah crimmeny... the Slayer's mom! Why would he do that? What would he be doin' with her?"

With a wicked grin she offered her educated guess. "Well, since I've heard that you really take after him, I could think of a couple of things he would be 'doing'."

"Don't go there." Matt grumbled as he held the phone back up to his ear. "Well Ma'am, it's a given that it will be snowing and in the teens and twenties. Just pack as if you were going skiing." He gave Karen an exasperated look as she said something to him while Joyce continued to speak in his ear.

"No Ma'am... uh hang on." With a frown Matt motioned for Karen to repeat herself.

"Ask them if they will all be staying at my Dad's or if they need some motel rooms."

Matt frowned. "Will you guys need any motel reservations?"

"Rupert made reservations at a Holiday Inn, but only for Tuesday through Sunday."

Matt again condensed the statement and relayed this to Karen. "Nope, they're staying at the Holiday Inn."

"That's not what I asked you to say, give me the phone." She said with a roll of the eyes while mumbling. "Men..."

"Babe! She just said they had reservations, so...." He exhaled with a hiss and handed off the phone.

She motioned for Matthew to calm down. "Hi, this is Karen."

"Karen! I'm Joyce, I can't wait to meet you."

"Same here.' Karen chirped as she curled up on the sofa. "Everyone is welcome to stay at my Dad's place."

"Oh, we wouldn't want to be a bother." Joyce said.

"It wouldn't be. He has two guest rooms and a little house out back that are just sitting there..."

"And he still makes me sleep on the couch." Matt grumbled as he got up and again left the planning to what he had began to refer to as the "Crossbow Wedding Command" which consisted of Karen, her Aunts and Grandmother. He made it half way across the room trying to ignore the girl talk when he heard Karen ask.

"Are you and Matt's Dad close?"

Joyce felt her cheeks redden. "Not exactly close. Rupert and I.. we are just, just friends."

The shade slid over beside Joyce, snickered and shouted his two cents worth into the receiver. "Except when they're feeling randy."

The inaudible, static-filled voice on the line caused both parties to pause for a moment, then assume it was a bad connection not worthy of comment, but still Joyce gave the phone a small shake. "Well, I'll tell him that we can stay at your Dad's house and about Sam offering to fly us. Do you want him to call you back?"

"Matt will probably stay up for awhile." She stopped and sighed. "But I've been so tired here lately."

Joyce smiled. "That goes with the territory. I heard that you and Matt are expecting."

Ethan began to laugh. "Ripper's going to be a Grandfather? Oh that's a good one!"

Buffy choked on her chili.

Willow's jaw dropped. "Whoa.. that means Giles is... is really old."

Joyce and Karen chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. "She seems nice and that Matthew is a polite young man."

"He's a jerk." Buffy snotted. "So this is some kind of a 'ut-oh, we gotta get married' kind of wedding?"

"I thought you knew." Joyce said as she replaced the phone into its cradle. "And this sort of thing does happen."

The ghost crossed his arms and nodded. "Absolutely! Except if your smart you give the lady a false name and address so any problems can be dealt with by doing a runner."

"I'm going to patrol. Maybe I'll find 'Grandpa' and remind him what time it is." Buffy sneered.

"Buffy Summers! What is wrong with you?" Joyce snapped.

"I don't like Matt." She mumbled. "And it just bothers me the way you are throwing yourself at Giles. Jeeze mom... it's awful, that's the only reason I'm going - to keep an eye on you two."

"Time for Willow to go study." Willow said with forced cheerfulness as she headed for the stairway. "Study, study, study and not hang around here and hear things she doesn't want to."

"I am NOT throwing myself at him and we don't need you as a chaperone. I enjoy his company, we talk and that's all."

Buffy reached for her jacket and patted the pockets for Mr. Pointy. "If you say so. So what did you talk about today? Like you will tell me anything since Giles got here."

"I told you, he stayed here, I went to the gallery and then we went to see Mr. Arbogast who told us it was going to be okay. All three of us then went to the police station and called their bluff." Her jaw tightened. "And, I was not going to tell you or Willow but then we went to the bank and Rupert found out that over seven thousand dollars was missing from his account. That's when he suddenly had to run an errand."

"And you let him go? Cripe! Who knows what he's doing." Buffy looked away from her Mom and grimaced as concern began to replace annoyance as her main emotion.

"And I was suppose to what? Tie him up? Handcuff him to the stair railing?" Joyce said with a sarcastic twinge. "He promised me that he would be careful and be back here between 6:03 an 7:00." She stopped, looked out the window and thought to herself. "Which he's not."

Ethan joined her at the window. "He's late. Despite what Willow says, 'Rupert' would not be late. 'Ripper' would - but not 'Rupert'."

"Uh, Mom. Maybe, I better go find him." Buffy said uneasily as she took off at a trot toward the front door. "Why don't you call Wesley and get him on the hunt?"

******

Wesley made a motion to answer the phone but decided to let the machine get it. He leafed through his notebook as the greeting played, waiting for the caller to speak.

"Hello, Wesley. It's Joyce. Rupert is late and I was wondering of you knew where he was? Ummm, call me please. Oh, and I need to talk to you about going to the wedding. Bye-bye."

"Why didn't you talk to her?" Marcum asked suspiciously.

"Because I would rather not lie to her." Wesley muttered. "Here they are, Aaron Smith's statistics. Nothing new, but it confirms what I have already told you."

Stein took the somewhat dog-eared notebook from Wesley. "Run this by me again, but with all the facts because I still don't see how this clears your pal. Now, this guy was a Watcher, just like you two?"

"Technically, 'no', he was not a full-fledged Watcher." Wesley answered with a shake of his head. "He was turned during what could be called the 'final examination', so therefore he had completed his training and was vested with the proper skills, but as for being a true Watcher... no he was not."

"Close enough." Marcum snotted. "All he was missing was the diploma and his perfect attendance pin."

Wyndam-Pryce. stood and assumed the stance of a lecturer in front of the two detectives. "For years this incident has been whispered about among the trainees. An unconfirmed tragedy that took place in the early 1960's. Now, over the centuries there has been deaths during this test - a fact that had been recorded as a warning for future generations, but never before had a candidate been turned and subsequently escaped from the Council estate."

Marcum settled back into his chair. "So this was swept under the rug." He said as a statement, not a question.

"After a fashion." Wesley cautiously confirmed. He cleared his throat and continued. "On the eve of my own 'final examination' my sponsor treated me to a fine meal and then tried to ruin my appetite by relating the gory details of this event."

Marcum glanced down at his notes. "Which he knew because he was there."

"Precisely. Uncle Douglas was also subjected to this very same 'examination' along with another candidate, Mr. Travers."

Stein sat back with a gallows smile. "They dropped their asses in a room full of vampires and 'sink or swim'." He chuckled at the mental image. "I'll say one thing, you people don't screw around."

Wesley grimaced at the observation. "No, no we do not." He said with exasperation over the interruption. "But, back to the matter at hand, Uncle Douglas related this event to me along with its tragic finale, ten years later in 1972. I was intrigued and decided that this needed to be documented, so I took it upon myself to find the information. I interviewed my Uncle, Mr. Travers and two other members of our organization with the promise that I would wait until they had passed away before adding this to the archives."

"Why?" Marcum snotted. "Hell, it's been almost thirty-eight years since it happened."

"A blink of the eye in our way of thinking." Wesley countered. "Sitting on the Council are those who both oversaw this calamity and were scarred by it. Out of respect for their station I cannot and will not revel this until the proper time." He exhaled slowly. "But this reappearance of Smith bodes ill."

Stein's face showed his exasperation at this understatement. "Got it, and in the spirit of international back washing we'll keep it under our hats." He stared at the old black and white photograph of Aaron Smith and confirmed. "That's the thing we saw, but he's suppose to be out of the equation since..."

"1972." Wesley interjected as he took the notebook back from Stein and leafed forward. "Mr. Travers led an operation against this creature in May of that year. He had acquired an intelligence report which hinted at the fact that Smith, along with a rotter of a human accomplice had tried to steal an ancient manuscript of sorcery from a private collection. He contacted this man and with his permission used this manuscript as bait to lure the vampire into a trap." Wesley rubbed his chin. "And not long after that he was assigned the position of Council Secretary."

"Good for him, but I'd say he screwed up." Stein observed.

Wesley fiddled with his tie. "Perhaps."

Marcum's snorting laugh filled the room. "I don't think there's any 'perhaps' about it. Looks like this vampire's still walking to me."

"Granted, it is confusing - but it is neither here nor there." Wesley said with a sharp nod. "We know who is behind this, a vampire who holds a grudge against the Council of Watchers. A vampire who would assume that Mr. Giles is the current Watcher and consequently make him and his associates his target." He took off his glasses and began to clean them while he offered a speculation. "The Late Mr. Rayne was an enemy of Mr. Giles so it is possible that the victim himself put this into motion."

Marcum scratched his chin and leaned over toward Stein. "Rayne was out having a beer and met with this Smith. They start 'talkin' shop'..."

"And Rayne says, 'let me tell you about Sunnydale'..." Stein added starting the back and forth thread with his partner.

"And the vampire listens to this and goes, 'those fuckin' Watchers are a pain, let's say we take 'em out'..."

"And Rayne says, 'sure. let's do it'. So they come to Sunnydale and set the whole thing up..."

"And Rayne gets cold feet about halfway through so Smith nails him with a mark of subordination until he's finished with him then pops his brains all over the basement and leaves with his vampire pals."

Both Detectives stopped and looked with amusement at Wyndam-Pryce who stood nodding his approval. Stein's smile faded as he offered his final opinion of the scenario. "Bullshit!"

Wesley's face fell. "But it is possible. Aaron Smith is defiantly involved for if you remember the Hell creature said 'see the truth'."

"It didn't show us jack shit!" Marcum spit.

"He showed us the main conspirators! Aaron Smith, a damned mockery of the sacred calling of Watcher! The woman, who from her comments I would say she is a witch called in to fix their problem! And that bastard... chained and marked but still I find his fate lacking in justice for he raped the Chosen One!" Wesley began to shake in anger. "Now, let me inform you of one, basic, undeniable truth. There is no way in hell that Mr. Giles is involved in this unforgivable crime. For if he knew of this, I can guarantee that the Hell creature would have shown a much different scene and you would have justification in arresting Mr. Giles, for I'm sure we would have been witness to the slaughter of all parties involved!"

Stein stood and stared around the cramped apartment finally letting his gaze center on the remains of the spell still strewn across the coffee table. As much as he hated to admit it, Wesley was right about Giles. Still his cop nature balked at accepting such information from a colleague of his main suspect. Another scenario began to jell in his brain as he thought back to Rupert's admission of being fired; to the reveled fact that Miss Summers had bailed on these people; to the comment 'this is not right' made by the suspect during the hoo-doo session. Top all this off with the fact that this Wesley had broken into the crime scene and that it sure was an odd coincidence that he knew about this vampire when the older man did not. And Stein did not believe in coincidences, he believed in the base evil of his fellow man. He exchanged a sidelong glance with Marcum, communicating his doubts with a single twitch of the lip and then pulled his keys out of his pocket. "Why don't you come downtown with us, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley stiffened. "Why?"

"I'd like to go over your whereabouts of last week and this whole Smith thing again. Clear it up, once and for all a point at a time."

******

"I brought you some supper, why I don't know." Joyce said as soon as Rupert opened his apartment door.

"Thank you." Rupert mumbled, taking the covered bowl from her hand. He fiddled with his collar for a moment and checked the time. "You should come in. It's almost midnight and..."

"That's allright." She snipped as she turned on her heel.

Giles followed her down the sidewalk. "Please Joyce! Like I said it's almost midnight and the hours between 11:00 and 1:00 are prime vampire feeding times. At least let me go with you."

Joyce stopped and turned to him. "Are you saying that you want a ride back to the house?"

"No, I'm staying here for the night, I just don't think you should be out alone." He glanced around the empty yard. "Come inside while I get my jacket and we will be on our way."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked with ice in her voice. "Find what was so important that you left us to worry for the entire night without even thinking about giving me a call?" Joyce took a step toward him. "I don't believe that you told me the truth about getting 'lost in research' because you haven't been here and you know it. Unless of course you've just been ignoring the phone up until forty minutes ago." Joyce's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's going on?"

Rupert's face became stone as he laid a hand on her shoulder and guided her back toward the door. "Come in. You need to be sitting down." Something in his voice sent a cold chill through Joyce. She held her tongue and allowed herself to be escorted into his flat and seated on the couch. Rupert stood in the middle of the room for several long seconds before he began.

"I went to a magic shop with the intent to purchase the remaining stock of black-lined..."

Joyce's stomach twisted as Giles softly related the events of the evening. This seemed insane. Bringing back the dead, the police, Wesley's involvement, the vision of evil conjured up by the pit Gatekeeper - all these facts jumbled into her brain when suddenly Rupert was sitting beside her taking her hand into his.

"Brace yourself Joyce. Brace yourself for this is horrible." He said with a catch in his voice. "The unchained vampire.... said, he admitted in so many words... that this melded vampire had raped Buffy."

"No... oh God... no." The words barely audible as the shock overwhelmed her. "Not my baby... when? How could this..?"

Hesitantly Rupert put his arm around her in a gesture of comfort. "I don't know, but rest assured that.."

"I have not 'rested assured' for the last year!" She said as the anger and despair built within her. "What else will you allow to happen to her?!"

Rupert inhaled with a hiss as he moved away. "I did not 'allow'... my God Joyce! How could you say such a thing?!"

"HOW?" Joyce spit as all logical thought burned away. She swung out with her open palm to slap him across the face. He dodged the insult and caught her by the wrist. "I 'will' find them and they will pay... in full!"

"How can you do that from jail? Rupert, you can't even save yourself! You don't have the first clue as to who or what these things are!" She cried as she pulled free of him and put her head in her hands. "I wish I would have never moved here."

Giles slid over and pulled her to him allowing her to weep bitter tears, to voice her regrets, to wring through the shock and anguish. As her shaking lessened he stroked her hair and asked. "Would you like a tea?"

"No... yes... no." She sniffed. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"I do not know the answer to that." Giles said as he stood. "In the past she has kept things to herself, but one would think that she would have confided this to one of us." He let out a ragged exhale. "I am going to have to ask her about this."

Joyce shook her head. "I will."

In spite of himself Giles felt thankful that Joyce took the duty. "Perhaps that would be for the best."

"Yeah, for the best." She answered faintly. "This explains her mood, and here I thought she was just upset about everything else that's happened. Sniping at me and you and Willow..."

"Willow." He softly echoed. "Willow."

"You don't think she was...?"

Rupert began to pace. "No, I do not.... I pray not. It's just.... at the onset we assumed that Willow was the target of Ethan's game and after tonight I began to believe it was Buffy. But now another conceivable twist rears its head."

Joyce took a deep breath. "That they are after both girls?"

"Entirely possible." Rupert said quietly while taking off his glasses and twirling them by the earpiece.

"Or maybe it's you."

Rupert nodded in affirmation. "Again, entirely possible, but I no longer believe so."

"Without you Buffy and Willow would be lost." Joyce admitted as she tapped on one of his books. She leafed forward one page and gasped as a woodcut illustration of a melding ceremony met her eyes. "I couldn't do this sort of thing. God Rupert... nobody else could do this."

"Ethan could." He bit his lip and let the comment hang in the air for a second. "Based on what I saw tonight I formed a theory which I now have expanded a bit."

Joyce tore her gaze from the picture. "Which is?"

"Ethan was recruited to perform a certain magic called a melding spell which would create an extremely vicious vampire for Buffy to face. Willow's electronic correspondence was monitored to find out her friends, to draw her into danger and in turn lure Buffy into a trap. But it did not go as planned when Ethan miraculously felt a pang of conscience and refused. Hence, they killed him and used this opportunity to cast suspicion on myself for this crime. They then went in search of another sorcerer or sorceress who did not have the skill to perform the spell correctly, leaving them with a mindless creature. And I use the word 'creature' quite literally for even in life this thing was a beast."

Joyce pursed her lips for a moment. "So you think that Buffy and Willow were the targets all along and it's just an afterthought to pin Mr. Rayne's murder on you?"

"Yes I do, and now it is time to focus on Buffy and Willow and find out what we can do to protect them." He sat back down, rubbed the bridge of his nose and halfway mumbled to himself. "At least we now know what their original plan was."

Even though she was sure it was not something she wanted to be enlightened about, Joyce still asked. "That would be this melding thing?"

Giles replaced his glasses and drew the book to his lap. "Correct. You see, a melding spell unites the undead and the living, combining the evil in both beings so they share each other's worst attributes." He pointed at the main figures in the woodcut. "Now, this shows two participants, a human and a vampire both willingly going through with this black rite. And since this was done with mutual agreement they are bound forever, with the human acquiring vampire traits and the vampire amassing human qualities." Picking up a second tome he opened it to the bookmark. Joyce leaned over and flinched at the crude line drawing of a man being sliced from breastbone downward.

Oblivious to Joyce's discomfort, Giles continued. "But, as many as need be can be melded either with or without their consent. This is what they do in that scenario. The unwilling are killed and turned into vampire, more times than not to be used as pawns in a dark scheme. Their soul is ripped out and sent to its reward. Then the empty shell is filled with vampire and human evil and the spirit is pulled back to inhabit this form. Now this merely allows the creature to reclaim his past skills, it does not return his free will or his ability to reason for those have been completely destroyed by the melding." Rupert stopped and swallowed hard. "Thank God it's a rare magic."

"What do you mean by that?' Joyce whispered fearfully.

In a voice filled with foreboding Rupert slowly answered. "Because this magic is rooted in a pact between human and demonic evil. Because it creates a vampire bestowed with unbelievable strength and perseverance who is totally under the control of its dual masters. A creation which will continue to fight until its body is destroyed by fire and only by fire... 'to ashes and dust' is the exact phrasing."

Rupert shut the book. "My educated guess is that the soul did not return as planned during the rite."

"So he's still in hell?" Joyce asked and as Rupert nodded she hissed out. "Good!"

"And this gives us some time since their plan has went awry." Rupert added.

"What about Ethan's ghost? Are you or Wesley going to try again?"

"No, for at this point I believe that they cast a spell to make him unobtainable. The Gatekeeper stated that Ethan had been set free." Giles shuddered involuntary. "Which could mean a lot of things. He could be haunting his place of death, he could be lost between the spheres, his spirit could have been destroyed or imprisoned." At the thought of the latter possibilities the thought "poor bugger" bloomed in his mind as he felt a pinch of pity for his former friend. "But Ethan is no longer the center of this abomination. We must focus on Buffy."

Joyce rubbed her hands together. "She should be home by now and I still want to be the one to talk to her." Joyce whispered as the situation began to overwhelm her. "Please, come back with me. I need you to explain the rest of this and I.. we can't be alone tonight."

Giles scooped up the books and began to turn off the lights. "Me neither." He thought to himself.

******

Buffy hid behind a hedge cattycorner from Wesley's place and considered her next move. The patrol car which had dropped him off five minutes before still sat there and she was 90% sure that she had seen Detective Stein's car pull into the drive leading to the building parking lot. She raised her head a bit and glanced up and down the street. "This is weird..." Her gaze darted back to the building. "...whoa, and it just got weirdier!"

At the far end of the building a figure dressed in black had just bellied his way through one of the small windows of the communal basement. Like something out of a bad spy movie he crouched down and stared at the patrol car before rolling toward a line of shrubs which edged the driveway to the back of the building. The figure then paused again, scurried across the drive and hopped the fence to the adjoining property.

"Okay, that's either Wesley giving the cops the slip or a bad guy." Buffy said outloud as she moved back into the yard where she had hidden. "Either way, I better check it out." She worked her way around the house and cut across several backyards until she felt that it was safe to return to the street without being noticed. "Great! Where'd he go?"

Wesley took a circular route to the small strip mall which was located a few blocks from his flat. Ever so often he stopped and as inconspicuously as possible scanned the area to make sure he was not being followed. "The necessity of proper surveillance and counter-surveillance of the vampire cannot be understated." He mumbled, quoting his well memorized textbooks as he slid along the side of the building toward a bank of pay phones at the far end. "It is of the upmost importance to be able to achieve covert movement throughout a well planned and well executed operation, for more often than not this information will provide your Slayer with the necessary element of surprise." Wesley nodded to himself as he took a final look around. Seeing nothing he picked up the receiver and dialed his Uncle Douglas.

Three hundred miles North as the crow flies, Conrad-Chaney's cell phone chirped. With a grunt he sat down his fork and pulled the interruption free of his jacket handing it off to Aaron. ""That is probably my idiot nephew. Would you mind playing butler for his benefit?"

"I suppose... the things I do for you!" The vampire said with false annoyance. He cleared his throat and answered as dryly as possible. "Crumbgate Estate."

Douglas nearly choked trying to keep from laughing. Crumbgate Estate! The name he and Aaron and Quentin had hung on their bare quarters back during Watcher training.

"Mr. Conrad-Chaney has retired for the evening." Aaron said in all seriousness then paused as Wesley restated his need to speak with his Uncle. "A family emergency? Very well Sir, I will awaken him. One moment please." The vampire halfway covered the mouthpiece and silently chuckled as scooted out of his chair and walked in circles around the dining room table, his boot heels clicking on the tile. He continued this charade for about thirty seconds before rapping on the table and calling out. "Mr. Conrad-Chaney, Sir. Telephone."

Douglas covered his mouth and mumbled syllables before taking the phone from Aaron's hand. "Thank you Hubert." He said loudly for Wesley's benefit before shouting into the receiver. "Hello! Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes Sir, I am aware that it's a little after midnight, but I have some terrible news to report." Wesley said breathlessly.

"What is it lad?! Has something happened to the Slayer?! Has that malcontent tried to take her away?! Has.."

"Please listen to me!!" Wesley interrupted. "And it would do you well to sit down."

Douglas took a sip of wine and curled his lip. "I'm sitting." He said in a 'concerned' tone as he noted the sound of Wesley drawing a deep breath to steady himself.

"The crux of the situation is that Miss Summers has been violated by a man who is now damned as a melded vampire under the control of... of Aaron Smith."

Conrad-Chaney dropped his glass. "WHAT!"

"I know it is unbelievable but..."

"Unbelievable?! It's INSANE!! Aaron Smith was destroyed! Three Watchers were killed removing that blot from the face of the Earth and you..."

Aaron's game face began to form, his anger rising in tandem with Douglas's shouting.

"Uncle Douglas, I am positive in my identification! Listen to me, please! He is behind this!"

Douglas mouthed a curse as Wesley interrupted his rant. "Start at the beginning! Tell me what happened!" He said motioning for Aaron to bring his ear close enough to the phone to listen in.

"Finally." Wyndam-Pryce thought to himself as he began to choose his words. "In the past twenty-four hours events here have begun to spin out of control. Without going into unnecessary details, Miss Summers and I broke into the scene of the initial crime..."

"I want the 'unnecessary' details!" Douglas barked.

"Yes Sir..." Wesley said through gritted teeth. "...Earlier in the day Miss Summers and her friend tried to cast a spell to bring back the murder victim, that is the late Mr. Rayne."

For fifteen long minutes Douglas was silent as Wesley related the happenings in Sunnydale in microscopic detail. His mind focused not on the events themselves but instead he scrutinized Wesley's words for any hint that his part in this affair had been uncovered.

"And finally, I have just spent the last three and a half hours subjected to an intense interrogation by the local authorities. As to whether they suspect that I am involved in this murder on my own or as an accomplice to Mr. Giles I do not know for sure, but at this point I am leaning to the former instead of the latter." He paused to look around, for he suddenly had the feeling that he was being watched.

Taking advantage of the break in the report, Douglas asked with as much control as he could muster. "Have you reported this to the Council?"

"No Sir, but I am planning of sending..."

"DO NOT!" Douglas shouted. "Are you out of your mind? Those old buggers will go off their trolley if they find out that you allowed the Slayer to be taken in such a fashion!"

"Uncle Douglas! I did.."

"Yes, yes... I know." Douglas lowered his voice into a mock show of concern. "Both you and I know that there was no way in hell that you could have prevented this, but that will not stop them from using you as a scapegoat. For your own safety lad, do not report any of this. Together we must find this villains and destroy them."

Wesley nodded in appreciation at the plural reference. "Thank you Uncle Douglas. I could use some help here."

"Absolutely lad. Aaron Smith has already killed three watchers and I don't want to have to bury you. Give me your address and I will leave in the morning for Sunnydale. Until then, do not speak to the authorities, to the Slayer, to that Mr. Giles or anyone. Understand?"

"Yes Sir, 121 Wilkins Street, Flat C, and you have my promise that I will not say the first word to anyone about any of this."

"Wrong!" Buffy piped up as she came around the corner of the building. "I think we are going to have a good talk using lots of words!"

"Oh no! Buffy! How long have you been eavesdropping?" Wesley groaned.

"Oh... since 'suddenly the homicide detectives pulled up behind us' then it went to 'I cast the spell which brought up a minor demon'." She came up to him and crossed her arms. "It was sort of boring until you got to the part about how this thing had jumped me, but that sure got my attention."

Douglas clenched his teeth as he listened to bits and pieces come through the line. At his side the vampire began to hiss in rage at yet another problem. Conrad-Chaney covered the mouthpiece as Aaron growled. "Be quiet!" He snapped.

"I though you said that he would not have the sense to muddle this up!"

"Why do you think I've taken it upon myself to go down there?! For the scenery?! To have a holiday with that fuckwit?!" He gave Aaron a 'brush off' wave of his hand and went back to the phone. "Wesley? Wesley! Who is there?!"

"Buffy... and she has heard everything." Wesley mumbled.

"Let me speak to her!"

Wyndam-Pryce held the phone out toward her. "My Uncle Douglas wants to speak with..."

"Forget it!" She snapped. "I don't work for you guys anymore, remember?"

"She won't come to the phone..." Wesley related then shouted to the departing Slayer. "...Buffy! Wait! Come back!"

"Listen to me lad! Go with her, even if she wants to tell that monster Giles! Play the part and contain the situation until I arrive! Ingrain yourself into any plans they have!" Douglas paused for dramatic effect. "Now GO LAD! HURRY AFTER HER!" He disconnected and slammed the phone dawn on the table as Aaron whirled around and swept up the centerpiece and half the table settings, sending them all crashing to the floor.

"Now don't into one on me." Douglas cautioned.

Aaron brought his game face directly into his friend's. "Why not?! Oh let me guess, this is part of your plan also!" He grabbed Douglas by the lapel and pulled him closer. "I want to know how much more of this is going to go tits up! I want to know when we are going to stop fart-arseing around and kill these fools before they stumble on..."

"Back away!" Douglas spit with a hard push against Aaron's chest. "You know I don't like you being this close to me while in that 'humor'"

"Excuuusssseee meeee!" The vampire said without the first trace of sincerity. "I just can't help wondering what happens when he sends his report to the Council, for I'm sure they are still a bit annoyed at me."

"Relax." Douglas said giving Aaron a sign to sit back down. "Dead men don't file reports and I guarantee you that Wesley is about to have a serious accident."

"Are you crazy? The police are already hovering around him. That would just make them delve deeper."

Douglas sat back and thought about this reasoning. "Right you are. I will hold off until he gets across the country. He will be one of the ones who die at the reception."

Aaron's vampire features softened, but he still was not convinced. "You are putting more and more stock into destroying all in one fell swoop. I don't like it."

With deliberate slowness Douglas refilled his wine glass, raised it and toasted his companion. "We shall achieve our goals in one deadly operation, a killing strike which will come whirling out of a maelstrom of total mayhem from which no one will be able to discern the true targets from the unfortunate bystanders." He pushed back away from the table. "Now old friend, put your mind at ease while I ring up your dear cousin."

"Why?" The vampire questioned suspiciously.

"I believe this night has not been a complete waste. Wesley's report of his inability to bring back that dead chap has brought a definite explanation to mind concerning our worthless Sean." He gave a nod toward the hall leading to the basement stairs. "Both of them went into the dormitory, so McKinley along with that Rayne waste might have taken turns with the Slayer. If this is what happened..."

Aaron nodded in understanding and finished the sentence. "The shirt was soiled by two men and we brought back the wrong shade."

"Correct. And according to my nephew they had to break into that pit because Rayne's cremated remains were no longer available. And if this is truly the case it is well within Jessica and my skills to call up McKinley's spirit and slam it into his corpse." Douglas snorted in self-satisfaction. "And finally, we will be back on track."