Things are getting a little heated at the end of this chapter. But first I think I should probably mention a few things. Things that may have not been made clear when I first re-introduced the Initiative. For the purposes of this story we are being re-introduced to a new branch of the Initiative. Originally there was one Initiative, a Super Secret Agency made up of Businessmen and women who's goal (According to TFwiki.) was to capture and enslave Transformer life.
The Demon Initiative of Buffy fame was part of the US Government at first, but the TF version of the Initiative mostly usurped their position within the Government when the President at the time chose to 'officially' abandon the project after the fiasco with Angel.
The TF Initiative was therefore partially responsible for the entire Adam mess, but the soldiers being tested, at least to my way of think were simply following orders and so still part of the military. Riley's Initiative team, which he took charge of after Graham convinced him to leave Sunnydale, continued to opperate indipendantly of the TF Initiative, but eventually they realized something bigger was going on and so were re-absorbed into the TF Initiative and so here we find everybody today.
So when I'm using The Initiative name I'm referring mostly to the TF Initiative. Not the Ex-Government sponsered one. Although they are pretty much one and the same from my perspective... It's the whole Retconning thing. Also, guest appearance by Xander in this chapter, plus a bit of setting up for the Prime story arc I'm going for with this one. (And no, Hot Rod does not become Rodimus Prime at the end during a big fight against Nemesis Prime. Although there is going to be a big battle by the time we're finished and a lot of the characters will be getting set up for their roles in the IDW Revenge of the Fallen Sequel Comic Nefarious.)
Cliffjumper and Smokescreen were having no luck in tracking down Lockdown or his Femme friend. They had searched all through San Francisco and were currently driving down the interstate in a vain effort of tracking – and dealing with – the elusive Decepticon bounty hunter.
Lockdown was a Decepticon that few could trust and even fewer got along with, but here on Earth, with its abundance of Decepticons working under ‘Lord’ Starscream – Cliffjumper suspected that Lockdown might be able to hook up with a few allies if he wasn’t caught fast enough.
Smokescreen on the other hand was monitoring communications between other Autobots. And was detecting an odd energy signal emanating from a vehicle rolling along behind them – it wasn’t Cybertronian – in fact it seemed more to match with Terran designs and functionality, but it was leaking some sort of radiation or pulse wave that didn’t match up with either species.
It also had tinted windows. Smokescreen became suspicious. “I think we’re being followed by humans,” he relayed to Cliffjumper.
“Nothing could have tracked our landing,” Cliffjumper said.
“I know. But that vehicle has been trailing us since we left the boundaries of the city,” Smokescreen informed relaying a scanned image of the automobile in question.
“Do you think Hot Rod tipped them off?” Cliffjumper asked in a suspicious and angry tone.
“I seriously doubt he had means or motive to do so,” Smokescreen said.
Cliffjumper frowned internally and continued driving down the interstate. “Then we’ve just been made by someone and we don’t know who, could be a Decepticon affiliated human agent. I don’t know if they could work with humans, but I say we radio the others and let’em know,” he said.
Smokescreen swerved slightly and pulled up alongside Cliffjumper – picking up speed as he did so. “Understood,” he said. “Now let’s see how badly they want to stay with us,” he suggested gunning the motor and picking up speed again.
“Right behind you, Smokescreen,” Cliffjumper returned with a laugh.
“See the pretty colors?” the woman seated in the backseat asked with a giggle. “They’ve noticed us,” she added almost in a lucid tone for her.
“Are you sure we can’t just shove her into the street?” Graham asked with a frustrated glare at the pale Victorian garbed woman in the rear seat.
“Sorry, you heard Riley’s orders,” Sam Finn reminded as she gunned the motor to pick up speed.
Drusilla giggled some more. “There shall be many new friends coming to the party, Miss Edith, we must be dressed in our finest,” she told the doll clutched in her hands. It had seen better days – the porcelain was scratched and the paint had faded – and one of the arms had been broken off. Miss Edith had suffered greatly when Spike finally abandoned Dru to fetch his soul and Drusilla had almost allowed the sun’s rays to take her then.
But then the nice Mister Rayne had showed up with a team of ex-Government soldiers and politely asked her to tea – he’d said so many wonderful things – and explained the existence of such beautiful creatures. Some of them made her feel things when she got to play with them – though it wasn’t very often as the spells to control them were still weak.
Drusilla had seen a new player that would soon come to join her though – one with the power to control everybody, humans, robots, it didn’t matter, his skills were the best. She would have her Spike back if she played nicely with the new friend from the stars.
Drusilla laughed again. “Naughty Slayer, making my Spikey all bright and bubbly again. She shall pay,” she informed Miss Edith in a dreamy tone.
Graham shuddered briefly. “She creeps me out when she does that,” he complained.
“Just ignore it, soldier, like I do,” Sam said with a slightly nervous smile. “The pick-up team better get here soon or we’re going to lose them,” she added under her breath.
“I want to dance,” Drusilla declared. “Can we stop when the moon rides high so that I may dance below the stars in the cool wet grass?” she asked once again sounding almost lucid.
“Maybe later,” Graham told her absently. He pulled out a map of the area quickly. “The chopper and those other two vehicles were headed this way,” he said briefly indicating a different stretch of highway. “Do you think McGee could tail’em?”
“Well considering these two detected us, I think it’s safe to say that will be a moot point soon,” Sam reminded switching lanes to keep trailing the Pontiac. “I’ll just bet they already called in their friends,” she added.
Gina Powell pursed her lips in disgust as she watched Agent Finn fawning over the unconscious form of the Slayer – her genetics held the key to many potential cures and alternative sources of augmentation that did not rely on technology – unfortunately for her she could not follow through on her initial goal.
A dead Slayer was just as useful as a living one. She was greatly irritated at the loss of Unit Scorponok as well – as she had been given the use of one of their captured Cybertronians on good faith – it was going to be difficult to get any of them to work with in the future.
There was however consolation in the fact that they now had direct access to Slayer Summers. Gina smiled briefly at that knowledge.
“Excuse me, Ma’am, but there is a communication from our team in San Francisco,” the tech reported coming up to her in the back of the vehicle with a careful and deliberately slow pace.
“What is it?” Gina snapped. “We’re enroute back to base with our target, can’t they handle a simple capture without the use of our resident mystic?” she demanded her expression souring at the use of the term.
The tech flinched slightly. “It’s not that,” he said. “Ma’am, I think you’d better come see this.”
Frustrated she moved through the transport to the monitoring station. Her eyes widened in sudden surprise when she saw the readings coming off of one of the robots. “Those energy traces, are they accurate?” Gina said stabbing at the monitor with her index finger insistently.
“Yes, ma’am,” the tech replied. “If we could somehow successfully capture this one,” he elaborated.
Gina sneered. “I am not incompetent,” she informed coldly. “Divert course to San Francisco immediately!” she instructed the driver. “We have more cargo to acquire,” she added glancing briefly at Mister Rayne who was still seated in the back. “And our ally shall ensure that we do not fail,” she added with a knowing smile.
Ethan studied her face briefly with a disconnected expression – as though glancing at a bug one might contemplate stepping on – and then he broke into a wide smile with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. As he recalled the current team in San Francisco had the lovely Miss Drusilla with them.
“What do you mean?” Riley Finn demanded with an agitated glare aimed at Gina. “Buffy’s hurt, we have to get her to the main facility for treatment,” he argued.
Gina sneered at his concern for the specimen – as that was all Buffy Summers was – a specimen. And she dismissed his concerns with a brief wave of her hand. “Her condition is stable and we have a competent field medic on hand to ensure she remains that way. As you’ll recall, Agent Finn, you were only to observe this operation. And since I am in charge it shall be I who decides when we rendezvous with headquarters,” she informed.
Riley clenched his teeth and made to say something else, but a sudden beeping from the monitor tracking Miss Summers’ vitals distracted him. Turning back to her he watched her carefully trying to figure out if something had gone wrong. “This is far from over,” he muttered to himself shooting a dangerous glare at the woman he’d been sent to observe. “The General was right. These Initiative people are beginning to overstep their boundaries.”
Brawn rumbled ahead of Hot Rod just barely – his sensors already locking onto Cliffjumper and Smokescreen’s current locations – Blazemaster was already ahead of them a considerable distance.
Hot Rod felt slightly disconnected from his body as the AllSpark energies flowed into Xander Harris – the two almost became one and Hot Rod lent his repair expertise in the restoration of the TECH weapons.
Hot Rod knew that it was dangerous to split his awareness this way, but since the AllSpark currently had more than one form it was a necessity – otherwise he would not be able to function properly – there was also the danger of the link causing them to share each other’s pain. A danger that would be tested as they now ventured into battle.
“These humans became aware of us,” Brawn muttered. “I don’t get it, we used all of the proper stealth protocols in landing. Something is up,” he told his companion.
Hot Rod frowned internally and resumed focus on the matter at hand. “Perhaps they have some form of radiation detection devices. They could have tracked us through our natural emissions and not the ship’s energy signal,” he hypothesized.
Brawn made a sound deep in his throat. “Yeah right, kid, we don’t exactly emit those levels of energy.”
“Actually, Brawn, Optimus mentioned some form of equipment that could detect residual energy traces from Cybertronians on humans,” Cliffjumper said.
Brawn was obviously skeptical judging by his tone as he spoke next. “When did you talk to Prime, Red Bee?” he asked with a snort. “I thought you and Arcee’s team were after Starscream on Mars,” he added.
Cliffjumper’s tone was strained. He was holding back what he really wanted to tell his friend about the red bee comments. “Just because we were tracking Starscream doesn’t mean we weren’t in communication with Prime, Brawn,” he stated in a lecturing tone. “We were given detailed information through our connection to the Ark,” he elaborated.
“I’ve got their six,” Blazemaster interrupted the conversation.
“What do you see?” Brawn demanded impatient for some action.
“One vehicle, plain clothes cop look’s like, or at least it is similar to what a plain clothes officer of Earth’s laws would be using to remain inconspicuous,” Blazemaster relayed.
“In other words it sticks out like a sore thumb,” Brawn said with a chuckle.
“Two heat signatures, one male, one female… Odd.” Blazemaster trailed off.
Hot Rod felt a growing sense of dread. He couldn’t place why, but he didn’t like it.
“What’s odd, Blaze?” Brawn verbally prodded as he switched lanes.
“I’m detecting a third bioenergy signature within the vehicle, female, corpse, but she seems to be moving,” Blazemaster explained.
Brawn’s primary vehicle form weapon swiveled on its manipulator arm out of aggravation.
Hot Rod felt a cold icy spear stabbing the core of his spark. “Vampire,” he muttered.
“Don’t talk slag, Blaze, dead people don’t walk around on their own,” Brawn snapped.
Blazemaster made a sound through the link – it almost sounded like metal scraping against metal. “My sensors don’t lie,” he reminded.
“Vampires are very real on this planet, according to first hand reports from Prime,” Cliffjumper said.
Hot Rod mentally sighed in relief – at least now he didn’t have to be the one to say it.
“Vampires,” Brawn repeated skeptically – he ran a quick scan over the internet for the desired information. “Not much of a challenge,” he said dismissively.
“It explains how they found us though,” Smokescreen cut into the conversation.
“What are you getting at?” Brawn demanded.
“Magic could theoretically detect the arrival of new Cybertronians on planet,” Smokescreen elaborated.
Brawn chose not to dignify that with a response as he finally saw the vehicle in question in his sights. “Threatening us,” he said bringing his roof mounted cannon to bear.
“We don’t harm humans,” Hot Rod reminded.
“This isn’t going to harm’em,” Brawn said with a satisfied chuckle. “This is just goin’ ta scare’em off,” he added before firing.
Hot Rod watched as a hail of bullets tore into the pursuing vehicle’s tires. The car came to a rather abrupt stop and skidded off the road slamming into a tree.
“Minimal force, no casualties,” Brawn stated confidently. “Except the corpse,” he added as an afterthought.
“And about three dozen witnesses,” Cliffjumper reprimanded. “Smooth move, ya trigger-happy warhorse,” he cursed.
“I didn’t see you coming up with a better plan,” Brawn complained gruffly.
“Look out!” Smokescreen shouted.
A massive black semi came barreling out of a side road and slammed into the Pontiac form of the Autobot – Smokescreen’s front end crumpled under the impact and he went flipping up over the cab of the truck to slam back down in the lane of oncoming traffic.
A station wagon skidded to a halt – an elderly couple and two young adults were in the vehicle.
“Roll’em up,” the father told the children in the backseat.
Part of the trailer of the semi that had struck Smokescreen flipped open revealing several armed humans inside and a large cannon emplacement.
“Clark, next time I’m choosing the vacation spot,” the wife told the husband nervously.
“Oh I’m sure it’s nothing, honey,” the husband said with a nervous laugh and a fearful expression on his face.
“Surrender!” a woman’s voice announced through a bullhorn.
“Like slag we will!” Brawn shouted bringing his cannon to bear on the vehicle.
“This can’t be good,” Hot Rod said.
Brawn transformed in the middle of the interstate and opened fire with all barrels, bullets and laser blasts flew at the human vehicle – surprisingly it suffered relatively minor damage.
“I’m detecting a crudely erected force field,” Blazemaster informed.
Brawn smirked and lowered his battle mask. “This is my kind of challenge,” he said gleefully opening fire and heedless of the human spectators nearby gawking at his imposing robotic form.
Samantha Finn kicked her driver’s side door open and scrambled out – her head had a small cut on it, but other than that the safety measures had prevented serious injury.
Drusilla hissed as her game face fell into place at the sudden brightness of the late afternoon sun – she shied away from it doing her best not to be exposed.
Graham Miller in the passenger seat reached beneath his seat and pulled out the weapon he had stashed there earlier. “If these are Autobots they aren’t very concerned for human safety,” he commented.
“We’re trying to capture them,” Sam reminded. “How would you take it?”
“Point,” Graham consented. “Makes me wonder why we allowed the Initiative to drag us back in,” he added with a frown.
“Someone had to keep tabs on them for our backers,” Sam reminded shouldering his weapon and letting him climb free of the wrecked car.
“So what exactly are we planning here?” Graham asked.
“We have to maintain cover,” Sam said frowning slightly. “Is that Riley’s team?”
Graham shielded his eyes so he could get a look at the command rig under fire. Whistling slightly he gave a subtle nod. “Looks like it,” he said.
“Why are they here?” Sam wondered suspiciously. “The pick-up team should have made their move by now,” she added to herself glancing further down the road.
“No idea,” Graham said. “What about our guest?” He eyed the trapped vampire without pity.
“She’s important,” Sam admitted with a reluctant sigh. “Tell Riley to get some sort of containment device for her over here so we can get her over to the truck,” she said.
Graham nodded and started circling around the car.
Sam studied the ‘Autobots’ closely. Their friend the Pontiac was down and the red Camaro was obviously agitated by the breach of protocol from the Hummer X2. The classic looking Mustang however wasn’t reacting as she would expect – instead he was – her eyes widened in shock when she realized what the Mustang was doing. “Shit,” she cursed.
Hot Rod ignored the banter between Brawn, Cliffjumper and Blazemaster and instead moved over to Smokescreen – careful so as not to be observed he briefly came in contact with the Autobot.
Smokescreen stirred slightly. “What’s going on?” he asked groggily.
“Patience, my friend, you will be whole once more soon enough,” Hot Rod promised.
Smokescreen groaned slightly and soon he was repaired – though he couldn’t be sure how – shifting into robot mode he activated his special exhaust ports and covered the area in a cloud of smoke. “I suggest we use the stealth of the ninja to fade out,” he told the others.
“They have us made,” Brawn argued.
Hot Rod sighed. “But they can’t follow us if we clear out,” he said. “There are still other locations to check out nearby for that bounty hunter,” he reminded.
Brawn stopped firing momentarily and then blasted at the tires – which surprisingly weren’t protected by the stupid force field – the vehicle was left stranded in the middle of the interstate. “Roll out!” he barked reverting to vehicle mode and vanishing into the cover of Smokescreen’s blind.
Cliffjumper was quick to follow.
Smokescreen waited until Blazemaster had cleared out leaving only Hot Rod behind. “Let’s move it, kid.”
Hot Rod felt something and knew that leaving just yet would be a mistake, but he couldn’t justify sticking around – rolling towards the clear side of the interstate once more he made his way after the others, but hesitated as he felt something or someone scrambling to get into his backseat. “What?”
“Please, I need help,” a soft unfamiliar voice whispered.
Hot Rod didn’t question the person – instead he gunned his motor and raced off with Smokescreen at his side.
Riley was coughing – the smoke had been super thick and obscured everything – when Graham showed up he gave a slight nod. “Sam?”
“She’s fine, but our ride got a little toasted, we need to pick up… Her,” Graham said.
Riley sighed and gave a tired nod. “Sure.”
“What the hell is going on?” Gina demanded. “They couldn’t simply vanish!” she hissed slamming her palm into the tracking device in the back of the transport.
“I’m afraid our entire system was scrambled by that last blast from the helicopter,” the tech explained.
“I thought we were protected against EMP,” Gina said her lips curling in a snarl.
“It wasn’t EMP,” the tech explained with a nervous glance over at Riley. “Near as we can tell it was some kind of blanket pulse wave that fried our entire operating systems.”
Gina let out a howl of anger and whirled on Riley. “Get your men ready to go. We must track them by sight now,” she insisted.
“We can’t go anywhere, ma’am,” Riley said doing his best to hide his amusement at the expression on her face. “When you called off the pick-up team you left us effectively stranded. Since that big guy decided to blow out all our tires,” he added pointedly.
Frustrated Gina moved off through the rear of the transport and paused as she noticed something else that wasn’t as she had expected it. “Mister Rayne,” she addressed the fallen British citizen who was just now climbing to his feet and clutching his head in obvious discomfort. “Where is our prisoner?”
“Alas I’m afraid that once Miss Summers saw my face upon awakening she was… less than co-operative,” Ethan explained with a slight frown. “Perhaps it was something I did to her in a previous life,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“What else could go wrong?” Gina demanded shrugging helplessly.
“Ma’am,” the tech called from the front of the vehicle. “We have a call from central command,” he told her.
Gina blanched. Her face went pale and she began to realize just what kind of dangerous predicament she’d placed them in. Or rather put herself in – since she was in command she would take sole responsibility for everything – at least in their eyes.
“Would you care for me to put in a good word on your behalf?” Ethan suggested helpfully.
His tone was less than sincere and Gina knew it. “Bastard,” she spat before making herself as presentable as possible to try and put a spin on the situation that would give herself an edge.
Nemesis Prime stood on the top of a large Pyramid in the middle of the jungle – it was an Aztec ruin that had been built centuries ago – but he was not here to admire the scenery. Sending Scorponok into the ruins he waited patiently for the Decepticon to emerge with the sought after prize.
Shortly after Scorponok burst out of the building with a large ruby crystal strapped to his back. “What is this thing?” he wondered. “Its energy levels are higher than anything I’ve encountered before.”
“The ancient humans were a gifted race, but they were not alone in this world,” Nemesis Prime explained. “This is a focusing device left over from an even more ancient civilization. The locals foolishly dub it a Crystal of Power,” Nemesis said reaching down and claiming the crystal with a broad smile.
Scorponok would have frowned if he could – his multiple eyes swiveled in their sockets as he stared suspiciously up at Nemesis Prime. “What are we supposed to do with this?”
Nemesis laughed and concentrated. Putting his mystical side into the focusing gem he crafted a simple spell from within – it was nowhere what he would be capable of were he in possession of the awesome powers of the AllSpark, but that would have to wait until he’d retrieved all of the aspects of the currently destroyed cube.
Bathed in a strange and alien red light – Nemesis Prime felt a familiar connection to the others he had once contacted through the cube itself – one of them was currently trapped on a moon in this solar system undergoing repairs after years of inactivity. While the other was currently en-route to the planet in a round-about-way.
“Master,” The Fallen said through their link.
“You,” Sideways said in a voice dripping with unbridled frustration.
“Greetings, to you both, now if you would be so kind as to lend me some of your power I could create a suitable army for myself to deal with… The current situation,” Nemesis informed.
The Fallen bowed reverently still trapped in his med-chair. “Take what you need,” he said.
“Do I have much of a choice?” Sideways said frustratedly.
Nemesis laughed and drew upon their combined abilities. A storm of rippling red energy erupted from the temple of the former entity that possessed the ‘Crystal of Power’ – Nemesis Prime felt considerable pain – a necessary evil as he was tapping into energies not meant for this Universal stream. Briefly Nemesis detected the presence of one other – a forgotten and irrelevant being who had long abandoned this corner of the Multiverse.
“Rise, my warrior,” the deep baritone whispered sibilantly into Nemesis’ mind.
Nemesis Prime let out a scream of pure agony as his stolen body was literally torn apart – however his essence remained intact – four new bodies were slowly brought together from the conglomerate mish-mash of parts that The First had usurped in her attempt to control the energies of the AllSpark.
One took the shape of a dark green and bronze warrior.
Another adopted the form of a tan and dark brown robot.
The third became a tan and sandy colored giant slightly shorter than the second unit who was the tallest of the three.
The fourth body reconfigured itself becoming a whole form – a form which ironically mimicked that of another. Nemesis Prime was pleased. Slowly his optics snapped back into focus and he was once again aware of his physical surroundings. The presence from his mind vanished.
“Prime!” the dark green and bronze robot shouted preparing to charge at the robot.
“Not entirely,” Nemesis corrected. “My name is Nemesis Prime, my goal is the restoration of the AllSpark and Cybertron, you have been restored using my unique ties to the AllSpark’s energy, will you serve me until such time as we can successfully resurrect your true master?” Nemesis questioned expecting some argument.
“You’re a Decepticon?” the tan and sandy colored robot asked suspiciously.
“For now that suits my purposes, but in truth you should be aware that I transcend either faction,” Nemesis stated deciding there was no reason to hide the truth.
“Well you did bring us back form the Pit,” the tan and dark brown robot said. “And Scorponok is with you,” he added noting the presence of the black, silver and red unit. “We’ll help you out,” he decided.
“You don’t speak for me, Blackout, I hate you. I hate everyone, why should I obey someone who isn’t Megatron when I could just as soon slag every one of you and raze this planet to ashes?” the dark green bronze robot demanded.
Nemesis smirked. Raising his right hand he squeezed.
Pain shot through the link crafted by the rebirth of the three Decepticons – the one who had questioned Prime’s words collapsed in agony as red hot fire coursed through his circuitry.
“Would anyone else care to question my resolve?” Nemesis wondered idly.
“Nope,” Blackout said taking a nervous step back.
“Heh, heh, I’ve always wanted to do that to him,” the other Decepticon said giving the fallen warrior a kick out of spite.
“Brawl, that wasn’t called for,” Nemesis said in a warning tone.
“My apologies, Lord Nemesis,” Brawl returned taking a fearful step back.
“What do you say, Bonecrusher?” Nemesis questioned the writhing and pathetic form of the Decepticon on the ground.
“I… I’ll serve you, Nemesis…” he said twitching slightly.
“Good, I do so hate to lose any soldiers that might prove useful in capturing the remaining ‘shards’ of the AllSpark,” Nemesis said with a sinister grin. “Now, Decepticons, transform and rise up!” Nemesis bellowed as he transformed not into a Peterbilt – as Optimus did, but into a shiny new winged stealth bomber form – similar to the aspects of Megatron’s mental patterns which had remained within the construct of Nemesis Prime.
Blackout converted into his familiar Pave Low Helicopter form and scooped up Scorponok into his transport section.
Bonecrusher and Brawl watched them fly off with envious expressions.
“I hate the jungle,” Bonecrusher declared. “But I hate what he did to me more, Brawl, I don’t trust that guy,” Bonecrusher said turning to face his fellow ground-bound companion.
“You’re just upset that there’s someone worse than Megatron out there,” Brawl said snidely before he converted into his tank form. “Come on, we’ve got to haul treads if we’re going to keep up with the flyers,” he added with a sigh before he started to rumble down the mountain.
Bonecrusher stared with seething optics after the retreating tank form – glancing down he spotted the burnt out remains of the ‘Crystal of Power’ and without bothering to even care he crushed it beneath one heel – and then he transformed into his familiar Buffalo MPCV form.
The sight in the Nevada desert did not fill one with confidence – the place looked like a war zone – and the remains of Buffy’s rented jeep left little doubt that something bad had gone down here.
Slowly the red haired woman turned in a large circle using her connection to Gaea the Earth Mother to determine what exactly had happened here. What she saw filled her with a dark unbridled rage – something that had not been felt for at least two years.
Her eyes bleeding black Willow Rosenberg laid her hand on the fallen and nearly forgotten Slayer scythe and without a word unleashed a primal scream that shook the very air around her.
And through the connection they alone shared others jerked at the sudden change of moods.
Rupert Giles frowned slightly as he approached his window at the Cleveland house and glanced out at the slowly darkening sky. “Dear lord,” he whispered.
Xander Harris flinched back from the explosion of raw power he felt. Ignoring the strange looks he received from Prime and Lennox he turned quickly to face Flamewar. “I think we might have a Buffy situation,” he said.
In the backseat of a dark orange Ford Mustang with flame patterns on the hood and doors a badly beaten and slowly recovering Buffy Anne Summers continued to sleep blissfully unaware of what Willow was feeling. She just felt. Safe.
Sitting undetected beside her the incorporeal First crossed her arms in disgust. “To think she managed to beat me,” she muttered. “And now all I can do is watch her make an even bigger mess of things when she goes after that creep who stole my body. Life sucks.”To Be Continued…