“Explosives?” Wesley said blankly. That was a new one on him. “The assassins generally prefer direct hand-to-hand combat. A car bomb is more the style of - well, the Council.” He shook his head ruefully.

“Which would be an excellent lead,” Giles replied sharply, “if it still existed.”

“Hey!” Chloe marched over to Giles and glared ferociously up at him. “What’s your problem? Wesley’s not the one who put the stupid bomb there and your girlfriend is fine so lay off!”

“Listen, you little -” Buffy began furiously, but Joyce spoke sternly. “Buffy!”

She looked up from Rupert’s embrace and gave her daughter a Look. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand why everyone is upset with Wesley.”

“Thank you!” Chloe exclaimed.

“This isn’t right,” Lucius Wilson said abruptly. He hadn’t said a word since Joyce’s unconventional entrance. What she had said and what he knew of the Bhavika clashed violently, and upon thinking it over, he knew why.

“The Bhavika,” he began, “which is the race of assassins, believe that the Slayer is blessed by Dhara, their deity. They also believe firmly in the sanctity of the mother-child connection. To harm the mother of the Slayer in any way would bring Dhara’s wrath upon them. As would harming the Slayer herself,” he added.

“That’s right,” Ethan murmured. Joyce’s story hadn’t sounded quite right to him, either. “They would never dream of killing either of you.”

“But bringing down the entire Network is okay,” Buffy remarked. “Neat philosophy.”

“There was a Bhavikan Slayer once.” Ethan’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet, with an odd mixture of tenderness and rage. “The Council killed her because she wasn’t human.”

“I was her Watcher,” Wilson picked up, his tone low as well. “I lost my arm trying to save her that night.”

“It’s a wonder they didn’t just kill you,” Ethan said. Killing Wilson for interfering, or even for just knowing what had happened, would not have been below the Council.

“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” Wilson replied sardonically.

“Of course,” Wesley realized, thinking aloud as a memory was triggered. “That last entry.” He looked at Wilson. “I knew I didn’t like the sound of it.” He paused, trying to remember the name that had accompanied the entry. “Sharna, was it?”

Ethan flinched, startled by the sound of a name he hadn’t heard spoken aloud for nearly twenty years.

“How did you know?” he demanded, his voice a bit louder than he would have liked. Wesley glanced at him in surprise, but elaborated, “When a Slayer is Passed, an entry is written chronicling her the circumstances surrounding her Passing. It includes her name. Sharna’s entry was vague, written in circles. It didn’t give any real information.”

“Little wonder,” Ethan muttered bitterly.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Giles stepped in tensely, “I’d like to know what in hell you’re all talking about.”

Wesley had forgotten that Giles wouldn’t know of the Passing. It was a rather new feeling, knowing something important that the older man did not. Nonetheless, he resisted the desire to draw out the moment, saying instead, “A Passing is when a Slayer is killed to activate the next in line. Theoretically, it is only performed when the Slayer has been incapacitated and cannot carry out her duties. When there was only one Slayer, it was crucial that she be able to fight, in order to maintain the delicate balance between good and evil. The Passing is - was - kept strictly secret to avoid complications. It was information held by the Council only, excepting special circumstances.”

He sighed. “I was offered the chance for redemption within the Network in exchange for Passing Faith. I refused and was fired.”

He paused, then opted to leave out Travers’s threat against Buffy’s life if Wesley attempted to contact Sunnydale.

Buffy blinked at this information as her opinion of Wesley went up a grudging notch. Instead of acknowledging it, though, she asked, “There wasn’t anything about Sharna that would have made her unable to fight?”

She asked it mostly because it was a question that she thought should be asked. She didn’t doubt for a second that the Council was capable of what Ethan and Wilson was saying it had done. Thus, Wilson’s harsh reply startled her.

“Sharna was an excellent Slayer. She had the potential to be as good as you, perhaps better. There was no reason for her to die that way.”

“Okay, okay,” Buffy groused. “I was just asking.”

Wilson nodded a weary apology.

“Her people,” Ethan interjected, anxious to begin painting the Bhavika in the proper light rather than as the soulless assassins everyone else was seeing them as, “are avenging her death. The Bhavika are generally a peaceful race, but when they have been wronged, they apply a ‘heart for an eye’ kind of philosophy.”

“They were indescribably proud that one of their own had been selected for the sacred duty,” Wilson added. “The Council could not have wronged them more had it assassinated their Elder.”

At that fortuitous moment, the doorbell rang. Everyone glanced at the door uneasily. Giles reluctantly let go of Joyce and moved toward the door.

“No. I’ll get it.” Buffy and Chloe spoke together. They exchanged a sharp look, then Chloe stepped back, deferring to the senior Slayer. Buffy opened the door cautiously and studied the visitor carefully.

“Miss Summers,” Adam Achala said with a polite nod. Buffy’s eyes widened as she saw his purple irises.

“Bye,” she said immediately, starting to close the door. Achala’s hand shot out and held it open.

“Please wait, I wish to speak to you all,” he said urgently.

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you tried to blow up my mom and kill Wesley,” Buffy snapped, pushing the door hard against Achala’s strong grip.

“Miss Summers.” Wilson’s voice still commanded the no-nonsense authority of a knowledgeable Watcher. “Let him in.” He ignored the disbelieving stares.

“He know what he’s doing,” Ethan defended the older man firmly.

“Ethan’s arguing for this guy,” Buffy muttered. “That’s comforting.”

Nevertheless, she stepped aside. With extreme reluctance. “What about your friend there?” she asked, gesturing to the Bhavikan who sat in Achala’s car, parked across the street. “Does he have anything to say, or is he just backup?”

”Touché,” Adam Achala murmured. As he stepped inside, Ethan felt Wesley tense next to him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Wesley gave him a thankful look, but did not relax. Chloe moved to stand protectively in front of the both of them, unconsciously accepting Ethan as hers to protect as well because of the bond between him and her Watcher.

Simultaneously, Joyce, whose view of the visitor had been obstructed, gasped.

“You!” she exclaimed purposelessly, recognizing Achala from his visit to her gallery. His next words gave her a shock.

Achala bowed to her. “Mrs Summers, I apologize for the scare you got at the grocery. The man who died intended to harm you. That could not be permitted. As the mother of the Slayer, you have our protection, should you need it. Dhara has decreed it to be so.”

As he finished speaking to her, he turned slightly and it was his turn to receive a shock as he caught sight of Wilson and Ethan.

“By Dhara!” he gasped. “The Protector and the First Fire,” he continued wonderingly, forgetting in his surprise to use the human terms.

“The what and the who?” Buffy asked.

“Those who loved her,” Achala replied softly. “Mr. Wilson tried to save her life and Mr. Rayne to avenge her death.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow in surprise. It had never occurred to him that Sharna’s people would remember him. Catching this, Achala told him, “Our memory is long. We don’t forget those who were of importance to our most beloved.”

Giles suddenly put two and two together. “Is that why you tried to bring down the Council?” Ethan nodded.

Achala, meanwhile, was thinking quickly. These two had clearly aligned themselves with this group. And the Fire’s – Mr. Rayne’s, he corrected himself silently - body language fairly screamed that he would allow no harm to come to Wyndham-Price. Even the Elder had not foreseen such an occurrence. After a moment, he spoke.

“This changes everything.”