by Rob Sorenson

The transfer of Xander from Lincoln Hospital to Bellevue had gone smoothly. In the two days since he'd been moved Willow had teleported back to Sunnydale to handle some business affairs and pick up some books to locate the proper spells for what she and Buffy had planned.

Therefore the discussion regarding Buffy and Willow's plan had been postponed. This had the expected result: Spike and his Slayer were slightly distant toward one another. Buffy hated this, but it was necessary. She would not discuss this with anyone--even William--without Willow there.

Magic just wasn't her department. <Now, if the solution were sticking him with a pointy object, I'm the girl to talk to,> she thought with slight amusement as everyone gathered in Buffy and Spike's room at the Warwick.

The suite would have been a foolish waste of money to continue paying for, though Willow certainly could have. Still, there was no point in needless spending, especially considering that she and Xander may be spending less and less time working with the current crisis.

Therefore Buffy and William shared one room while Faith, Dawn and Willow shared another. At least that was the idea; in fact Faith had only seen the inside of the room to shower.

Every other moment was with Xander. Faith detested hospitals with everything she had...but her life was here, and she was going to be there when he came back to her.

Screw the Council, screw the vamps, screw the apocalypse if it were on it's way. Right now, her world consisted of a little room containing the only thing that mattered.

She'd only been persuaded to leave him when Buffy had told her the purpose of this meeting. Even as they convened she was looking anxiously at the door of the room, feeling an almost irresistible urge to be near him.

As expected, Buffy began.

"I'm going to keep this short because this isn't my thing. We're going to be talking about stuff that I don't completely understand., which is why I wanted to wait for Willow to get here.

I don't have a good feeling about Xander's condition. He's seen, what, five different doctors in the last nine days?"

She looked to Faith for confirmation. The dark-headed slayer nodded tiredly; Buffy continued.

"I'm sure most of you remember what happened to me a couple of years ago. Well, not you, Faith, but everybody else. When Dawn was taken by Glory, I just sort of zoned out. I was catatonic. In fact, according to Willow, I was very similar to the way Xander is now.

Willow went into my mind and got me out. It looks like we're going to have to do that again."

No one spoke for a moment. Dawn found her voice first and addressed Willow.

"Is this like when I went into your mind?"

The redhead tilted her head, clearly thinking carefully before answering.

"Yes and no." She looked around to the group before continuing, taking a deep breath.

"Guys, this is going to take a little while to explain, but you need to understand the differences from what we've done before with each other.

"Buffy and I are very different in what we can do; my power lies with Magic. Physically, I'm capable of very little."

"Buffy, on the other hand, can fight like nobody's business. When it comes to Magic, though, Slayers are notoriously lacking. Buffy's never liked spells much anyway, but the few that we tried together went nowhere. I don't know why this is, but I'd guess it's the Powers That Be implementing some sort of primeval balance. A Slayer with heavy magical skills could be corrupted pretty easily."

"However, we are similar in one important thing: we share supernatural power that normal humans do not. Our minds are structured differently than ordinary humans."

She addressed Dawn directly.

"When you went into my mind to help me maintain contact with the light, it was actually to a pretty limited space. I knew exactly where you needed to be within me, and I was conscious and awake when you were doing it. I had the power to keep you away from the dangers inside my head."

"When I went into Buffy's mind after you were grabbed by Glory, I went directly to the source of her problem. Instinctively the Slayer knew what had to be done, and sort of latched in to me. I went directly to the source of Buffy's catatonia and was able to snap her out of it."

"My point is Buffy and I--now that I think about this, all five of us here--are two beings in one person."

"Faith and Buffy are people AND slayers."

"I'm a person AND a witch."

"Spike is a demon with a human soul."

"You, Dawn, are a person with mystical energy who can provide access to parallel universes."

"With our duality comes instinct; we recognize each other's power and connect with it on a primal level. Therefore a mental connection is relatively easy."

"Could we get to the sodding point, please?"

Willow and Buffy frowned at Spike as the Wicca continued.

"I just made my point. Xander doesn't have the same fundamental structure that we do. He has a fully human brain without any instinctive nature to clear it out when danger is nearby. That's the little tingle we all feel in the back of our necks when vampires are close by. Our primeval selves are clearing the human vessel."

No one spoke for a full minute as they processed the information. Willow herself appeared to contemplating what came out of her own mouth when Faith offered a thought.

"So Red, you're basically saying that you have to go into Xander's mind to get him out, right?"

"Not necessarily."

"I don't get it."

Spike interrupted.

"As usual, Willow overdid it. Short version's this: if she goes into Xander's mind she might just get lost in it because he has a normal person's buggered psyche. Instead of two separate parts, he's one bloody mess like every other human being."

Faith glared at him as he held up his hands.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way."

Willow matched Faith's glare and Spike cowered slightly.

"Ladies, I care about Xander too. I'm just giving a more straightforward perspective. Willow would be in serious trouble if she tried this. Am I right?"

Willow nodded.

"Ok, then. Are we agreed that doing anything supernatural is out of the question?"

Willow shook her head. "Again, not necessarily."

"You're confusing me. First you say you can't do it because of his mind being unable to work like ours, and now you're telling us...what, exactly?"

The Wicca took another deep breath; this was the tricky part.

"There is one notable exception to the rule where Xander is concerned."

Spike still appeared confused as Faith and Dawn's eyes immediately went to Buffy's. Faith whispered.

"You."

Buffy nodded. "Me."

Spike and Willow now joined the others in staring at the blonde Slayer; once he put it together he stiffened at the implication and spoke in a deadly quiet voice.

"This connection you share. You're going to try to send Willow in there because of something we don't really understand?"

"Not Willow. Me."

If William's face could have paled it certainly would have now.

"You?"

"Yes."

Spike stood suddenly and began pacing the room.

"Wait a minute! Wait just a bloody minute! Are you telling me that YOU are going to try to magically send yourself into Xander's brain and dig him out?"

Buffy kept her voice even, her eyes staring into his.

"Yes."

Spike was incensed now. He tilted his head in an exaggerated fashion and slapped hard at the side.

"Hold on a moment. I must have water in my ear. My hearing must have left me. Did Willow not just say that Slayers completely suck when it comes to mojo?!"

Willow held up her hand.

"I did say that they were magically deficient, yes. I didn't say that I couldn't help her. What it comes down to is this: I think Buffy and I can break down the wall and go into Xander's mind to talk to him because he will accept her. His one shred of supernatural ability is his emotional link with Buffy. In other words, I can get us in the door; once that happens it becomes Buffy's job to find Xander and help him to bring himself out."

Dawn spoke for only the second time.

"Has this ever been done before?"

Willow had been hoping to avoid this question.

"No."

"So...how do we know if this is going to work?"

"We don't. It's the only shot we have."

Faith squared her shoulders and nodded.

"Ok, then. If you guys think this'll work, let's go for it."

Spike shook his head incredulously.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not going to be the one risking your brain being turned to mush because you got lost."

Buffy addressed Spike quietly and directly.

"It's my decision. It's Xander. We have to do this. I'd do it for you and you know it."

Spike simply stared back at her.

Dawn spoke once more.

"Why don't we put it to a vote?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"A vote? Will, have we ever voted before?"

"No, never in matters of slayage. I could be wrong though; I'd have to check the archives."

They shared a small smile as the other three glared at them. Buffy sighed.

"Fine, let's vote. All in favor of this plan raise your hand."

Faith, Buffy and Willow raised their hands immediately; Dawn hesitated a moment. She was considering the consequences of losing Buffy and Willow. That loss would be devastating.

On the other hand, it was Xander. This made the decision for her.

Dawn slowly raised her hand.

Spike didn't move. Buffy again held his gaze, and decided to give him the last word as she finished the procedure.

"Those opposed may now raise their hands."

Spike remained motionless as he spoke.

"Buffy, do you understand how much I love you?"

The entire room was taken aback, especially Buffy herself.

"Of course I do."

"Then you'll understand why I'm not voting. I won't go against you...but I'm not with you either. I can't support the possibility of losing you. I'm sorry."

Spike turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

***************************************************************

***Four Days Earlier***

Back room politics didn't suit Katzenbach or Martineau, for entirely different reasons.

Martineau was always in favor of decisive action, with all those underneath simply following the directives of a strong leader. He was a soldier. Soldiers, more often than not, make for pretty lousy diplomats.

Katzenbach believed that one should make a decision within their own heart and mind without undue influence. Listening to opinions from one you respect is a good thing, but it has it's limits. In his humble opinion the Council had become a political organization rather than a supportive one; the Slayer was no longer the focus. Now it was all about funding for various demon fighting projects, most of which were undoubtedly lining the pockets of the members who fought for them.

Travers had allowed this because money was the second greatest motivator in the world. Loyalty was easily bought within the great majority of the Council.

The single greatest motivator was power. This is all Travers truly desired; every action in his 30 years as chairman was geared toward this.

Now he was gone. The Council's democratic system had been in place for centuries; Travers had never really changed those rules. Once he attained full power nearly 20 years before they'd simply been ignored.

Katzenbach was a realist. He knew that Quentin had destroyed the Council as it currently existed. What remained was a corrupt shell to be filled by the next dictator. If it was his last act on Earth, Hans Katzenbach would keep the reins out of the hands of Anthony Martineau.

He walked into his office in their underground facility in Florida, dreading what was about to happen. Slowly he made his way to his desk and eased his way into the chair, grimacing in pain. He idly wondered how much worse the pain would get before the inevitable.

6 months before Katzenbach had begun feeling some pain in his stomach. Pepto Bismol and Tagamet hadn't helped. At last, almost against his will his staff had dragged him into the Council's infirmary in London, where he'd been diagnosed with advanced liver cancer. The prognosis was extremely poor at the late stage of detection even with advanced treatment. In his mind it wasn't even a decision. He refused any therapy and went home to die. This was why he hadn't been there when the First had blown up their London headquarters.

After that occurred he was pressed into service once more. Under the circumstances he felt he had no choice. For better or for worse, the Council was his life. If he was to die, it may as well be working.

Though he hadn't shared his inner feelings with his closest associates, death would be a blessed relief. He'd given up on this life over 25 years ago; at last it appeared that life had given up on him.

How wrong he was.

The unexpected events of the previous weeks and months had thrust him into a position of responsibility he desperately would've avoided if possible.

He'd long ago decided that if there was a God, he or she had a rather cruel sense of humor. Recent events had only reinforced these feelings.

Still....it was as if this was meant to be. He'd been given one more chance to change things. There was still enough of the idealistic 11th generation Watcher within him to win out over his decades-long bout with cynicism and depression.

Therefore he was seated at his desk, about to take in a meeting with a man for which he'd give everything he owned to avoid. Such was the responsibility of the Chairman of he Watcher's Council; even a lame duck such as himself.

There was a crisp knock on the door. Katzenbach opened his mouth to grant entrance when Martineau entered without invitation. The sheer disrespect of this action spoke volumes about the relationship between these two men.

Martineau sat and stared at the Chairman, waiting with poorly disguised impatience for him to begin.

"Colonel Martineau, I appreciate your time. I realize that you have much to do, but there are matters that we must discuss."

The soldier sighed heavily.

"Can we just cut to it, Katzenbach? You don't want to kill the Slayers and I do. They're a danger to the fate of the world. I plan to eliminate that danger. That's what we do here."

"Is it? I thought our purpose was to guide and train Slayers, not kill them."

"We've eliminated rogue Slayers before."

"Correction, Colonel. We've eliminated turned Slayers. These Slayers are not vampires."

"From our intel, Buffy Summers is shackin' with one. That close enough?"

"Your attitude is unproductive. We are not meant to be the enemy of the Slayer. We are to be invaluable allies."

"I'd say they've made it pretty clear they don't want to ally with us since they killed the Chairman--or have you forgotten that?"

"I am the Chairman now."

"In name only. You know as well as I do that once we get into open debate I'll have the votes in favor of war. You wouldn't be calling me in here to beg my indulgence if it were otherwise."

Katzenbach stiffened.

"You act, Colonel, as if war is desirable. If I may ask, what scenario could you give me that would avoid killing Buffy Summers and Faith?"

Martineau made a show of rubbing his chin.

"If they kill themselves then I won't have to do it. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like you're insane."

"Sod off, Katzenbach. I don't owe you anything."

The Chairman abruptly changed the subject.

"What was the nature of the Security Council operation in California while the Clone Affair was in motion in New York?"

Martineau's face twitched only slightly in surprise.

"I don't know of any such operation. Sir."

He'd said that last word with undisguised contempt.

"You're a poor liar, Colonel. Most of the time an honest nature is a good thing, but in this case, as Chairman, I order you to answer."

Martineau had listened to enough of this poof.

"I'll do you one better. The men from the California operation are making their way to New York City to take care of some business there."

"I order you to tell them to stand down."

Martineau made a mocking sad face.

"Oh, sorry sir. There is to be no contact while the operation is in motion. Once the order is given, no one can stop it. Especially powerless figureheads like yourself."

"Do you understand what you're doing? Did Leveque's message tell you nothing? These are not average people. These are the most powerful beings on Earth."

"Last time I checked, a bullet can still get the job done. These "powerful beings," as you call them, have no military training whatsoever. Hand to hand is all they know because your precious Council traditions have kept them nicely behind the times. Rather convenient, actually."

"You underestimate them."

Martineau held up a finger.

"Au contraire, my friend. Travers underestimated them. By doing so I lost my best man in the process. I know what their strengths and weaknesses really are, and I plan to exploit them. It is simply a matter of time."

"Is that all this is about? Losing Huddleston? WE initiated this, Colonel. His death would not have happened if not for Travers. Your blame is misplaced. The killing must stop, not escalate, if the Council has any chance of continuing to exist."

"I put blame where it belongs. These Slayers are training powerless humans to kill without mercy. Dawn Summers is a teenaged girl. If she's willing to murder a soldier, how much more do you think they're capable of? They carved a message into a man's flesh. When they say they're coming, I choose to believe them. We've no choice but to hit them first."

"Colonel, we started this."

"Hans, I plan to finish it."

"You'll plan nothing without the Council's authorization."

"I'll get it and you know it. Enough of this. Those weak willed rich boys are worried about their own skin. If they want to live they'll do what I tell them. You don't carry enough support to put so much as a dent in my plans."

"That remains to be seen."

"Come on, Hans. You know these people. Travers put them on the Executive Council because they were weak and greedy. They don't have what it takes to face me. In all honesty, Mr. Chairman, neither do you."

Katzenbach simply shrugged with a slight smile.

"Things change, Colonel."

"Could it be that you don't care about dying any more, Hans? Oh come now, don't look so surprised. The Security Council has known about your illness since the day you were diagnosed. Who do you think the infirmary reports to? Tell me, Hans, how much longer do you have? Months? Weeks?"

Katzenbach had paled.

"Long enough to stop you."

Martineau smiled broadly.

"I'll make you a deal. If you stay out of my way, I'll make it quick and painless for you."

The Colonel leaned forward, eyes cold.

"If not, I'll have your morphine taken away. That might sting a bit, no? Why not make this easier for all of us. Once you're gone, maybe things will get better. Some part of you must be hoping you'll see that little chippy again after all these years--"

Katzenbach stood suddenly.

Martineau stood with him.

The Chairman spoke very slowly, face deathly pale.

"You don't deserve to speak of her. In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, when it comes to teenage girls you are particularly weak. Could your anger toward Dawn Summers have something to do with them always getting the best of you?"

Martineau's eyes widened, blazing with fury for a moment. Quickly he regained control of himself and began to laugh.

"My goodness, Hans. Suddenly you've grown a set of bollocks. Where did this come from?"

"They've always been there. I've been hiding them from the likes of you far too long."

Neither spoke for a moment, staring at one another. Finally Katzenbach broke the silence.

"I think we understand one another. You are dismissed."

Martineau didn't move for a minute, establishing the fact that he didn't take orders from anyone. At last he turned and walked stiffly out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

The old Watcher slid slowly back to his chair, hand to his stomach. The pain seemed to be growing by the day. Martineau had been right; it wouldn't be very long.

He closed his eyes, trying to bring himself away from the past and into the present. <Why did he have to mention her?>

Hot tears began to ooze down his cheeks as his demons momentarily overwhelmed him.

- End Chapter Two-