by Rob Sorenson

The Cary Grant Suite was massive as hotel rooms go; as an apartment it was merely huge. Willow had been in awe as she'd entered the suite. The sheer magnificence of the suite's appointments, from the ornate golden bathroom fixtures to the huge balcony overlooking midtown Manhattan, kept her mouth agape for a full minute. She hadn't even focused on the king size brass beds in each room before she found herself in the arms of...herself.

"Andrew? It's nice to see you, but honestly, this feels a little creepy. Can we hug after I've changed you back into you?"

"Do you have to do it so soon? Being you has opened up new worlds for me. I've completely embraced my feminine side through this experience."

"That's....nice. Still, it's taking away some of my strength maintaining the glamour, so if you'll excuse me--" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath--"let the spell be ended."

Instantly Andrew, Clem and Dawn became themselves again. The former Nerd of Doom moved back in toward Willow, who was about to hold up her hand to stop him, but she'd promised. They hugged again as Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Andrew, if I didn't know you as well as I do I'd accuse you of trying to cop a feel. Could we let Willow breathe, please?"

Clem was smiling. "Yeah, Andrew, leave your former self behind."

The geek squinted at the demon. "I think it'd be best not to get on my bad side. Otherwise I'll tell Faith where your hands were during most of the flight. Perv."

Dawn smacked Clem on the arm. "I thought you were a better man than that, Clem."

He shrugged nervously as he rubbed his bruised tricep. "Strictly speaking, not a man, you know. I do kinda dig humans, though, and Faith is a major hottie. As usual, Andrew exaggerates. I had to make occasional equipment adjustments that males don't. It took me a bit of time to get the feel of things."

Willow was smiling at him. "Don't worry about it. In the world of Faith that is probably construed as a compliment. Still, it might be best if Xander doesn't know."

The room fell silent at that one.

Dawn was looking over Willow's shoulder out in the hall. "Where's everybody else?"

"I didn't want to use up the energy to do the invisibility spell for everyone, and teleportation is even more draining. They're going to improvise."

"Improvise? That doesn't sound good."

"They'll be here soon enough, Dawnie. Right now I'd guess they're having a urination contest right now.'

Dawn sighed patiently. "Willow, you once nearly killed me twice in one year. I forgave you. Do me this favor, please? I'm 18 going on 19. It's ok to use the word piss. I've used it and heard it before."

The redhead cocked an eyebrow. "Right. Got it. Anyway, they're going to climb up the side, and if I know them, they're talking a lot of doo-doo to each other about who can make it first."

Dawn just glared at her. <When are they ever going to learn that I'm not a helpless child any more?>

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's just drop it. Any idea how Travers plans on making contact?"

Willow shrugged. "Nope. I'd guess he'll send another tape somehow. He's too smart to send a fellow Watcher. We'd get Xander's location out of whoever they send." Neither had to comment on the means used to get that information. When one of their own was in danger, playtime was over.

Clem and Andrew were bickering over who had dibs on the big screen TV when the floppy eared demon snagged the remote and turned it on. Instantly his pinkish skin paled. "Ummm. Dawn? Willow? You might want to come look at this."

Both frowned and made their way across the room. Their frowns changed to expressions of shock as they saw Xander on screen, in the exact same position as he'd been in the videotape, his appearance now altered with ugly purplish welts on his throat, clearly visible on the digital picture.

Willow snapped out of her trance and grabbed her cell phone to hurry Buffy up.

Precisely 97 seconds later, a ghostly pale hand appeared on top of the balcony, shortly followed by the graceful outline of Spike's body, framed by the lights of New York City.

He immediately dropped to one knee, pumping his fist slowly forward and backward like Elvis during a Vegas encore. "Bloody right, baby!! Yesss!!!"

He seemed to remember where he was and looked up at 4 astonished faces staring at him from within the room. He gave a bit of a half shrug.

"You had to be there."

He cocked his head sideways and listened as the Slayers were grunting and straining to reach the balcony. He smiled and raced into the room, throwing himself on the bed. He'd nearly knocked the Little Bit off the king size mattress in his rush, but she'd just have to understand.

Roughly five seconds later, two pairs of hands, considerably darker than the single set previously seen, made their way over the balcony, their feet touching the concrete base at exactly the same moment. They were breathing heavily, faces darkened with annoyance.

Faith got her breath to speak to her sister Slayer first.

"Ok, that sucked. How the Hell did he get up here so fast?"

"He knew those handholds by heart. I think he's done it before. Where is that little cheater?"

They heard obnoxiously loud fake snoring from within the bedroom and exchanged looks of death. Oh, how he would pay.

"Could you two slowpokes tone it down a bit? The undead need to rest, even after such a simple climb. Say, you two didn't get any dust in your faces as I left you behind, did you?"

Faith was seething. "Look, Blondie, B may love you, but I got no problem throwing your vamp ass off this balcony." She looked to Buffy. "You got a problem with that?"

"He'll live."

Spike opened his eyes, looking into the steely blue eyes of his lover. <Bloody Hell, she really is a terrible loser.>

"Well, yeah, I've scaled her before. Never this far up, but then I was a fan of Cary Grant. If I ate him, we wouldn't have seen North By Northwest or To Catch A Thief. After he retired, though, I guess I could've taken a shot, but he was old by then and old people are so pumped full of bleeding medications you can hardly taste the--"

The entire room--even Clem--now shared Buffy's look. Spike decided his trip down memory lane needed to take the nearest exit. It was a wise choice.

"Can we stop fooling around and get back to the point, please?" Dawn's eyes hadn't left the screen, even during Spike's speech. Buffy looked at her, and her little sister waved them over to the TV, again without tearing her eyes from the picture.

Once they all got a look, the mood immediately dampened. Faith appeared as if she'd been struck. <Why the Hell was I worried about a stupid race when Xander's in trouble. Oh God, he's hurt.>

Buffy's face had turned to stone. Willow took a deep breath and spoke. "His bruises. The last time he had bruises like that-" she broke off, sliding her eyes toward Faith briefly before willing herself to look back to the screen.

Faith, meanwhile, was well aware of the similarity, but refused to turn away. She burned the image of Xander in pain into her memory. Whomever had done this was going to get triple whatever happened to her man. She'd make sure of it.

Buffy merely sank into the leather loveseat of the living room, Xander's pain and anguish coming over her in waves. She closed her eyes and concentrated with all she had. <We're here, Xand. We're coming. It's going to be ok.> She opened her eyes and saw Xander looking directly into the camera, giving his crooked grin and nodding slightly. His grin, however, didn't reach his eyes and Buffy immediately knew he was trying to comfort her, heedless of his own feelings. She shook her head, marveling to herself yet again about how strong Xander really was, when Travers stepped into the picture.

"I trust you've had a chance to get yourselves settled. I formally welcome the three of you to New York City. Permit me to introduce my associates. My assistant, Pierre Dubois." The Canadian at Travers's side nodded curtly to the camera. "Also, my director of security. You've met him already, I believe. Forgive me for not sharing his name with you, but he doesn't care much for publicity, even when the chances of your collective demises are so favorable."

Buffy glanced toward Dawn and saw her stiffen. <Must've met them at the airport. Judging by that look, Dawn would like to meet him again.>

"I suppose we've spent more than enough time with preliminaries. It is currently 3 am. Precisely 24 hours from now each of you will report to a different part of the city to meet in single combat with an opponent of our choosing. You will carry no weapons, and neither will your opponents. You will fight to the death. If you kill your opponent you may make your way to one of the other locations to help another; the same applies to our warriors."

He smiled hideously. "If all three of our warriors are killed you will receive instructions on how to retrieve the boy. In the event of your collective deaths we will release him. One way or the other, your cooperation will result in the survival of this ordinary human. We're not monsters."

"That's funny. You sort of look like Leatherface what with all the burn scars." Travers's eyebrows raised, furious at the boy's interruption. He nodded to someone off camera and returned his eyes, now an even more ice cold blue than before, to the camera. "Clearly the boy learned respect for authority from you, Miss Summers. Let this be an object lesson for everyone of the consequences of not following my instructions."

The psychotic Watcher moved to one side as a dark haired leather clad female made her way toward Xander, her back to the camera. She moved her face close, clearly whispering something for him alone, and viciously backhanded him across the face.

All the Scoobies reacted in horror, but unknown to the others, Buffy's hand flew up to her face and her eyes closed tightly shut for a moment, almost as if she herself had been struck. She shook it off, reopening her eyes to the camera.

Xander's head lolled forward for a moment, then he shook it slightly and raised his head defiantly toward the camera, spitting a tooth to one side as he did so.

"Have you anything else to say, boy?"

His defiance was replaced with fear, quickly followed by acceptance. There was no reason to get one's ass kicked for nothing, and Travers nodded with satisfaction and faced the camera yet again.

"Willow Rosenberg will report to Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan.

Faith will report to Madison Square Garden, in the main arena.

Buffy Summers will report to somewhere especially fitting for someone so shallow. You will report to Macy's department store. Remember, 3am. If you are one minute early or late, the boy dies.

I have one more thing before you're allowed to rest. I have no doubt that Miss Rosenberg plans on doing a locator spell almost immediately after this transmission is completed. We will not attempt to block this. In fact, I'd have little quarrel with simply telling you where he is, but in truth, I'd like to drain the witch a bit. One thing, however, is certain. If anyone appears within 100 yards of the boy's position prior to our authorization he shall be killed before you can reach him. Trust me when I tell you that we will know if you're there, regardless of what magic you attempt to use in cloaking yourselves."

Travers nodded slightly to the camera. "I bid you good evening. If I may say so, I hope your deaths will be quick and painless. Regardless of my personal feelings, you did indeed save the world on occasion. Unfortunately, you did so without our guidance. This is no longer acceptable. A new day is about to dawn."

The screen on TV slowly faded out, and just prior to blackness Xander again looked into the camera and winked with a nod.

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

Traver's turned to Pierre. "That went well, yes?"

"Perfectly, sir. The boy's interruption was actually beneficial, if I may say so."

"I would agree."

The three clones were now gathered in the room, waiting for final instructions before they went to sleep.

Travers cleared his throat. "Ladies, we've done all we can to prepare you. There is no doubt in my mind that we will be victorious in this final battle between Buffy Summers's group and the Watcher's Council. Remember the most important thing: focus on the psychological. Physically, Buffy and Faith are every bit your equal, and Willow Rosenberg is enormously powerful spiritually.

Their Achilles Heel couldn't me more clear. The mission is secondary to their feelings for one another. They've clouded their judgment by placing morality in the way of what is necessary. This can and must be used against them. You have their files. You have your orders regarding the manner in which to use them."

He sneered involuntarily. "In short, use their love against them, as we have by abducting one human boy who is worth nothing in any real sense. It has been, and shall remain, their greatest weakness."

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

"He winked." Spike was incredulous.

Everyone else in the room was smiling slightly in spite of themselves. No matter how bad things got, Xander was still Xander.

Buffy snorted. "It's bad enough that Travers is holding one of us hostage. You'd think that'd be enough for him, but nooo. I am SO not shallow."

Spike gently sat next to her and took her hand. "Macy's is a good thing. You've been in there, you have a feel for the place. We'll take out whatever beastie they throw at us."

She looked at him and spoke softly. "Spike, can I talk to you outside for a second?"

The others were caught up in conversation with the exception of Faith, who was still staring at the now black screen.

When they reached the balcony Buffy turned to him with a stern look. She'd learned it from Willow some years ago. The resolve face.

"Honey, only five of us are going out there tomorrow night. Somebody has to fly solo. That's going to be me."

Spike's eyes widened. "No way. I fight with you."

She shook her head. "Not this time. Willow will be with Dawn, and you'll be with Faith."

"The Hell I will."

"Spike. Look at Faith."

He obeyed. She was still staring into the ether that was a blank TV screen. He realized she hadn't said a word since Xander had appeared on screen. She was practically catatonic.

"She can't fight like that. We've had situations like this before; she never has. I'm not sure she'll be able to get it together by tomorrow. She needs you. I'll be all right. Plus, how long could a cab from Madison Square Garden to Macy's be? Finish off her demon and hightail it to Macy's."

"What about Willow?"

"None of us can help her but Dawn. My concern with Will is self control. We have to give her an edge in this fight, or else she may have to go over the edge to win. Believe me, William, that's something you do not want to see. Plus, she's blaming herself for Xander being caught. There is nothing she wouldn't do to protect him. That scares me a little."

The vampire sighed. "Fine. I go with Faith. I don't like it, but if it's what you want-" he was interrrupted by a soft kiss. Buffy's eyes were filled with relief and adoration.

"Thank you. Hungry, baby?"

"No, but if you are, I'll walk you to the elevator."

"You're such a gentleman."

They quietly left the room and made their way down the stately halls. She smiled at him. "You DO realize we're going to scale that wall again after this is over?"

He rolled his eyes. "Buffy, why is it so important for you to be better than me at everything?"

"It's not just you. I hate losing at Pictionary or Scrabble too."

"Fine, Slayer. Would you feel better if next time I let you win?"

She spun on him. "Don't patronize me. You won't have to let me do anything."

He held up his hands and chuckled. "Just pushing your buttons, pet. I do that rather well, as I recall."

"Whatever."

They reached the elevator and Buffy pressed the Lobby button. Spike held her hand as they waited.

"Do you want me to come with you? Keep you company?"

"Actually, I'd rather you stay up here and talk to Faith about tomorrow without me there. She'll listen to you. In fact, just about everyone listens to you more than they do me," she said ruefully.

"It's all in the approach. You're getting better all the time with the stake-side manner."

"Still, you and Xander relate to people best. I tend to give orders without explaining myself."

They shared another kiss, this one slightly more involved than the last as the door opened. She backed in, her eyes never leaving his as she pressed the proper button.

He'd turned to go back to the room when she called to him. "Oh, baby, by the way?"

"Yeah?"

"If you promise not to let me win, I promise to let you do something to me that you've always wanted. Deal?" The doors closed as Buffy stared him down with a smile of sensual promise.

The last image she saw was his slack jawed, wide eyed _expression. She'd pay good money to have a picture of that face on her wall, completely filled with desire for no one else but her. More importantly, she got the last word. You couldn't beat that with a stake.

- End Chapter Fourteen -