by Rob Sorenson 

Quentin Travers wasn't certain how to feel. On the one hand, his plan was working brilliantly. Buffy Summers was the key to everything, and things had gone remarkably well in that regard.

The last image he'd seen on his monitor was the Slayer he hated most being thrown violently through a window. That was something he'd carry as a cherished memory for the remainder of his life.

He wondered to himself if there was a way to be thrown through a window in a non-violent way, and snickered to himself. Frowning, he was aware that snickering was something he'd never done previously. This presented him with a possibility that he found disturbing and amusing in equal measure. It came to him with stunning clarity.

Quentin Travers was suddenly aware that he'd lost his mind. Upon reflection, he found it liberating. The world was an insane place; perhaps now he'd found the necessary state of mind to control it.

He'd been mildly bothered by his Faith clone's performance. The dark haired ex-con had thrashed his creation without breaking a sweat. Clearly he'd underestimated her; Faith wasn't even an important part of the ultimate goal. He was also mildly uncomfortable with the prospect of her arrival to his headquarters. As a consequence he'd ordered his assault team outside.

They would all die, of course. He had strictly ordered no gunfire to avoid involvement of local authorities. Ten humans versus a Slayer would eventually go in Faith's favor. He mentally shrugged; it was of no consequence. Simply a delaying action until he gathered all necessary information.

He was cautiously optimistic that Buffy Summers was dead. That was the point of the entire exercise to begin with.

Idly he wondered if he should allow the boy to be killed painlessly. He'd served his purpose; in fact young Harris had done much more. It was a remarkable stroke of good fortune that he shared an inexplicable link with the Slayer.

This had virtually guaranteed the outcome of a battle with someone who shared her strength and skill. Travers had no illusions, however; the girl had a way of winning battles in which by all rights she should be slaughtered.

Buffy Summers versus an identical clone was a less than 50-50 proposition if all things were equal. His original plan had been to eliminate Harris, and with luck recruit the Wiccan.

This would effectively neuter the Slayer. Her second, far more important Watcher had perished; all that was needed was a thinning out of her support system. Their stubborn loyalty was the hidden strength of Buffy Summers.

The boy was by far the easiest target. Once the link between he and the Slayer had been discovered, however, the focus of the plan had changed dramatically.

Travers prided himself on his flexibility. His one regret was the lack of experienced operatives available. He hadn't anticipated the necessity of extended torture. Still, he'd done the best he could with what he was given.

His sensors within the bodies of his creations displayed that Buffy's clone was still in play. There was virtually no possibility that a battle between two beings of that kind of destructive power could last more than a few minutes before a victor emerged. One way or the other the battle had to be over, and his clone was very much alive.

Hopefully the Wiccans would simply destroy each other. Clearly the recruiting effort had failed.

Through his clones' collective efforts, victory was surely his. He took a deep, satisfied breath and reconsidered his original feeling about ending the boy's suffering. He hadn't been lying when he commented on his admiration for young Harris's spirit.

At last he decided to continue the torture until he had visual confirmation of the death of the Council's greatest enemy. One couldn't be too careful.

After all, what was harm in being thorough?

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

Dawn was paralyzed by the sight of Willow at her scary, veiny worst. She was only slightly relieved by the presence of Xander and Tara's essences by her side. She had been about to ask Xander what they were supposed to do when he began speaking to the darkest section of Willow's spirit.

"Will? I know you have to do this, but remember who you really are. We're here for you."

She gave no response outside of a slight smile and a tilt of her head. Tara spoke up.

"Baby, we love you. We understand why you're doing this, but we're scared. I don't know exactly how much we can affect what you're going to attempt."

Again, Willow said nothing. It was as if she was waiting for something.

Dawn took a deep breath and figured she should weigh in. She hadn't a clue regarding what could be the right thing to say, but she figured she'd just wing it.

"I like your hair a lot better when its red. Black makes you look way Goth. You are SO not that. So I'm thinking you've got to economize. Take what you need of this Dark mojo and that's it. Then you can...I don't know...flush it out or something."

Xander nodded in excited agreement.

"Hey, good thinking, Dawnie. Use whatever it takes and then take some Dark Magic Ex-Lax."

Tara shook her head wearily.

"They're not putting it in a very sophisticated way, but they have a point. You can fight off the Dark elements if you limit the dosage."

Yet again there was no response.

Dawn turned to Tara with a quizzical _expression.

"What are we doing wrong? She's gone all Nick Andros on us."

Both Xander and Tara stared at her in incomprehension.

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Doesn't anyone read books outside of me? Ok, cancel the reference. Why is she not speaking?" From behind them, a new voice spoke up.

"I think I know."

Dawn's face lit up.

"OZ!!"

He smiled uncertainly at her. "Yup. And...you are?"

She was hurt. "I know it's been a while and I've grown a couple of feet, but I'm still Dawn."

"Sorry. Don't know you."

"Huh? You gave me a subscription to Dogfancy magazine when I turned 11. At the time I didn't get the joke, but still...what is up with you?"

Tara's eyes were sad. "Ummm....Dawn?"

"Yeah?"

"This is Willow's mind. She knows that you've actually never....you know. Met."

Dawn found her shoes. "Right. How could I forget such a thing." She took a deep breath, put her pain aside, and looked back up at Willow's former boyfriend. "Why won't she talk?"

"She doesn't want to draw any magic out. She'd rather Willow die than be of help."

Dark Willow found her voice at that.

"Keep your mouth shut if you don't want a severe case of the mange."

Oz simply grinned at her and continued speaking to Willow's closest companions.

"You're standing on top of the Dark temple. You need to move so Willow can draw the power she needs."

Simultaneously all three moved to one side. Dark Willow's face twisted in consternation.

"Shit."

Her arms raised, and the temple rose, quickly followed by purplish beams emanating from within.

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

Xander was laughing hysterically after he was punched hard in the mouth.

"Good god, you guys hit like Andrew. Seriously, you gotta do better than that."

Pierre backed up slightly; Jeeves scowled with annoyance.

"You don't hit hard enough. Give me the taser. I'll teach him some manners."

Xander laughed again. "I have good manners. Check this out, Jeeves. PLEASE kiss my ass."

The taser made contact with his broken leg.

Jeeves stared into the boy's eyes, longing to watch him crack as he moved the electric prod away.

He received the shock of his life when Xander crossed his eyes at him and grinned with his blood soaked mouth.

"That's it? That's all you've got? Do me a favor, would you? Bring in an American to do this, because not only do you suck at torturing people, you Euros really know how to stink up a room."

This gave both men pause; something very odd was going on.

Xander was breathing hard, vibrating from the vestiges of the massive amount of voltage he'd been forced to endure. He began to snarl at his tormentors.

"I'm getting bored over here. You guys gonna hit me again? I wish you would, because it's starting to turn me on."

Pierre felt an urgent need to exit the room, but Jeeves held him in place.

"Settle down. The boy is chained up. He's lost his bloody mind is all. If Travers sees you leaving he'll have our guts for garters."

The French-Canadian looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Why can't we just kill him?"

"We will. Just a little longer and Travers will give the order."

Xander was shaking his head incredulously.

"Ummm, guys? I'm the one in the chains. Dontcha think you're being a little jumpy for no reason? I tell you what. Let's switch places if it'll make you more comfortable. I think I've got some ideas of where I wanna put that taser."

His maniacal laugh was beginning to frighten Jeeves now. Something was very wrong.

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

Buffy's fingers closed around the stake, now millimeters from Spike's exposed chest. There was no movement for a moment, but slowly the Slayer outmuscled her clone and brought the stake up far enough for Buffy to have room to headbutt her rival without losing hold of Mister Pointy.

The clone dropped backward, but rolled with the blow and sprang to her feet.

Buffy was standing protectively in front of Spike's body, breathing heavily. Her clone glared at her as she spoke.

"You should've stayed down and let me finish you. Now I'll make it slower for both of you. Nice effort, though. Too bad you can't move well enough after the beatdown I gave-"

She was interrupted by an impossibly fast left hook from Buffy. Staggering in surprise, she recovered herself long enough to lash out a jab that caught the original Slayer flush on the jaw.

Buffy didn't move.

"Is that all the harder you can hit? You might wanna suck it up and do better, because you've seriously pissed me off."

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

Xander's head snapped back from yet another blow to his face from the brass knuckles. He shook his head.

"You've gotta do better than that."

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

The clone launched a spinning kick that Buffy allowed to crash into her already swollen jaw.

She backed up a single step and no more, smiling fiercely.

"God, you hit like a man. I'll give you one more free shot. Come on, little trooper. Lemme have it."

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

"That taser must be running out of juice, because now it feels like something Anya and I used once. I am deeply disappointed in you boys."

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

An elbow to the side of the Slayer's head barely moved her. She clucked her tongue in mock sadness.

"Too bad. I guess I should have a turn."

She caught the incoming side kick and drove her elbow into the knee, wrenching it and tearing the ligaments. Her clone screamed with pain and hobbled away.

"Now look who's trying to run."

Buffy grabbed her by the back of her hair and launched her into the air, slamming the other's head into a massive concrete pillar.

This was a killing blow for any human. The clone, however, was merely on the edge of consciousness, blood streaming steadily from her lacerated forehead.

"Buffy?"

Spike was on his elbows, looking around with his one open eye. The other had been swollen closed by the clone's shot to his temple.

The Slayer ran to him and hesitated slightly. She knelt down slightly out of arm's length. "Are you ok?" He looked up in relief as she moved into his line of vision.

"Am I ok? Have you seen yourself lately?"

"I'm not in any pain right now."

"Don't see how that's possible, love."

His face was etched with concern as he continued..

"Why are you breathing so hard?"

She looked away.

"I'm not sure. I think..."

"You think what?"

"I think it's Xander."

"Xander? What's he doing to make you breathe so hard? The only time I've seen you like this is...well...."

Buffy sighed. "Spike, just because you're lying next to the gutter doesn't mean your mind has to be in it."

"Sorry, pet. I'm just worried about you."

"Look, we have to get to Xander. He's....not in a good place right now."

"I would say not. I've been in all sorts of chains in my time."

"That's not what I mean."

Spike stared hard at Buffy as a distant light shone on his face.

"He's affecting you somehow?"

"Yes. I'm holding it off as best I can, but I have this overwhelming urge to snap the neck of anyone who comes within three feet of me."

"I'll just stay over here then."

"Good plan."

The light came ever closer and the accompanying rumble of the subway car ground into their vicinity. Buffy had spoken but Spike didn't hear her as the noise grew.

Suddenly the clone lurched up from her prone position and launched herself at Buffy. Spike screamed to warn her, but he could not be heard over the din in the station.

He needn't have worried. Every sense was heightened within the Slayer due to her emotional state; she quickly turned and intercepted the attack, catching her other by her underarm and hiptossing her violently.

The clone screamed as she hurtled down to the concrete gutter which held the rails.

Rails that were moments later covered by the oncoming subway car.

Buffy and Spike turned away simultaneously in revulsion at the grisly sight.

They looked at one another and communicated silently as the train was screeching to an emergency stop. They rose and furtively climbed the steps, back to the street.

She immediately hailed a cab. Considering their hideous appearance it was a miracle that one actually pulled over.

Spike and Buffy collapsed into the back seat and spoke as one.

"Yankee Stadium."

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

Dark Willow had the look of a woman in the throes of ecstasy as the magic burrowed into her.

"Oh man, I can't believe I didn't want to do this before. I'm going to need a cigarette pretty soon."

Dawn, Xander, Tara and Oz looked on with silent concern. Dawn decided Tara was the best person to ask the question that was on the mind of everyone.

"When do we know it's enough?"

Tara shrugged. "We can only guess that there'll be a sign of some kind."

"That's not very comforting."

"Sometimes the truth isn't."

Yet another new voice spoke up.

"Hey guys, she's had enough. Walk back to the spot and stand in the front."

Dawn smiled. "Buffy."

Buffy smiled back. "It's nice to see you too, but we need to cut off Dark Willow's power source, 'kay?"

"How do we do that?"

Xander spoke up in response to Dawn's question..

"Follow me."

He moved directly into the light, immediately stopping the flow.

"No more mojo for you, young lady. It's past your bedtime."

The others moved quickly to stand with him.

Dark Willow spoke in an exasperated tone.

"What is it with you guys? Why can't I ever have any fun?"

Oz responded in his typical fashion.

"We love Willow. Not you."

Dawn turned to her sister.

"It took you long enough."

Buffy smiled brightly. "Actually, I've been here all along, hiding in the woods. I figured I need to make the dramatic hero entrance, you know? It's a Slayer thing."

Everyone, including Dark Willow, rolled their eyes. Dawn spoke in weary tones.

"I love you Buffy, but sometimes you really need to get over yourse--"

Blackness overcame her, and suddenly she found herself back in Battery Park, lying on the grass.

"Dawnie, are you ok?"

She looked up into the concerned--and thankfully normally shaded--eyes of Willow.

"I think so? Did we win?"

Willow said nothing, she simply looked to her left.

Dawn followed her gaze and immediately wrenched her eyes away in disgust.

Willow's clone was impaled against a huge oak tree by an enormous metal pole, sharpened at the end and wide at it's base.

"Ewwww. Crap, Willow...you need to tell me when I'm going to see things like that."

"Sorry." She gave her hand to Dawn and helped her to her feet.

"How long was I gone?"

"About 10 seconds."

"You're kidding."

She gestured toward the dead clone. "I wouldn't joke about that."

Dawn shuddered.

Willow embraced her unexpectedly.

Not that she minded, but--"Will, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."

"I didn't really do anything."

"Yes you did." She pulled back and looked into Dawn's eyes. "Whatever you saw in there wouldn't have happened without you. While I did what I had to do, you kept me grounded to the Light by being there. In other words, your presence accessed my pleasant memories and feelings."

Dawn still didn't quite get how she'd helped, but decided against mentioning what she'd seen.

Tara's death still hurt too much for Willow to talk about at length.

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"When is the last time you spoke to Oz?"

She was surprised by the question. "Oh, about a month ago, I guess. He called me from Istanbul." Willow smiled.

"Do you have a way to reach him? I'd like to talk to him if that's ok."

"Of course it's ok, Dawnie. Oz has always been crazy about you. Remember Dogfancy? I thought Buffy and Joyce were going to fall off their chairs laughing because you got so mad that no one would tell you the joke."

Dawn simply nodded, eyes misting a little.

"I miss him."

"Then we'll call him as soon as we get back home, ok?"

"Ok."

"I hate to ask this of you, but we have to get going now."

Dawn's eyes widened. "Xander! We have to get him!"

"You will."

"Huh?"

"Dawnie, I'm almost tapped out. I have enough strength to teleport one of us to the stadium. It has to be you."

"Me?"

"Come on, Dawn. You and I both know that I can't fight without magic. You, on the other hand...."

Dawn couldn't stop herself from feeling some pride at Willow's respectful tone. She took a deep breath and composed herself.

"What about the others?"

"We don't know their status. One way or the other, their fights are probably over."

Dawn nodded, noticing that Willow hadn't bothered to specify who had won. She appreciated the fact that, at long last, information she'd received from the Wiccan wasn't sugarcoated.

"Will I be naked?"

Willow laughed. "No. I only have to do that for extremely long distances. A short distance teleporter can be fully clothed on arrival. Are you ready?"

Dawn nodded as Willow hugged her quickly.

"I'm going to put you inside the stadium since Travers probably has people outside to guard the perimeter. Be careful, ok?"

Dawn simply nodded again and gave Willow a reassuring smile, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof.

A moment later there was a flash of light and Willow was alone in Battery Park.

The redhead turned wearily toward her clone's final resting place and sighed. She wasn't sure why she felt bad, but....

"I'm sorry."

She realized she'd better clean up her mess before someone reported the obvious distortion to the cityscape.

Closing her eyes and concentrating she disengaged the giant spike from the tree, now holding the dark clone's body aloft.

She kept her eyes shut as the object made its was out of the park and toward the sea. About two hundred yards out the spike tipped slightly and gravity did the rest, dislodging the dark clone's limp form.

The once powerful wiccan splashed into the water and slowly sank to the bottom.

Willow took a deep breath and replaced the giant weapon she'd utilized back onto the thorny crown of America's most famous edifice.

The world would never know that Lady Liberty had helped save the world on that dark night.

- End Chapter Twenty -