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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: As I said in the prolog, I own none of these characters (Except for Meredith, the Dark Knights and Komiara I suppose - but that's getting ahead of things! :-D )
"Forget it!" Cordelia snapped.
"Huh?" Buffy breathed.
"Did you think we were friends?" Cordelia continued. "Did you think that any of you were my friends? I only hung out with you because you were Xander's friends, and my friends don't like him. Now he's betrayed me. So just stay out of my way!"
Buffy shrugged, slipped on a light blue sweater from the suitcase that was still sitting open and full on her bed, and headed out the door.
Cordelia checked her hair in the room's one small mirror, then headed towards the door. On her way she noticed something in Buffy's suitcase - a small bottle of perfume. Curious, she picked it up and examined it.
"Belles de Ricci!" Cordy muttered to herself. "Now where on earth would Buffy have gotten good perfume like this I wonder?" A small predatory grin spread across her face, and she tucked the bottle into her handbag as she headed out the door.
(At Quake...)
"Okay, I got a Arugula salad for table three, tomato risotto for table eighteen and a poached chicken for table nine." Piper Halliwell called out to the kitchen. "Anyone?"
"Hey, how can I help?" Phoebe said as she walked calmly in.
"Table eighteen," Piper said, handing her the risotto. "Where have you been, anyways?"
"What?" Phoebe said as she headed for the dining room. "You said six o'clock."
"It's twenty past!" Piper called after her.
Out in the dining room, Buffy, Xander, and Willow were getting themselves arranged at a table.
"Nice place," Buffy commented understatedly.
"A little too nice if you ask me," Xander grumped. "We must stick out like vamps at Communion. And how much is dinner here gonna cost, anyways?"
"Xander?" Willow smiled at him. "Happy. Come on, you agreed."
"Speaking of which," a voice said from behind Willow. She turned around and saw Oz there, wearing a 'resolved face.' "I've been thinking about your offer, Buffy, and I'm willing to give it a try."
"Oh?" Willow said before she even thought about it.
"Uh, yeah. It doesn't mean we're back together, right? Or that we're ever gonna be? It's just... I could use a break. So, friends?"
"Sure," Willow said.
"Well, this friend has got to go to the washroom," Buffy said absently, getting up from her chair.
"I'll go with you," Willow said quickly, rising to follow her.
Xander grinned at Oz. "Looks like you're gonna get discussed, man!"
Oz smiled. "Whatever."
There was a moment of silence or two at that point. Then Xander blurted out. "Well, if we're guy friends, and both single for now, maybe we should scope out some new chicks."
Oz stared at him. "Huh? The last thing you need to worry about is meeting new girls."
"Oh, come on," Xander cajoled him. "Not as anything serious, just a little male bonding stuff."
"And hitting on strange girls is the only route to male bonding?" Oz said.
"Well, YEAH!" Xander gestured out to the dining room. "Okay, so who do you like?"
"Um," Oz scanned the room uncertainly. His eye fell on two dark-haired girls standing near the kitchen entrance. One's hair was shoulder-length and mostly straight, and she was wearing a white shirt and dark skirt, and the other's hair was quite short and curled and she was in a waitress' uniform, but the two looked startlingly similar. "She's cute," he said, pointing. "The waitress," he added offhandedly.
Xander turned to look where he was pointing. "Whoa!" he breathed. "The other one is smokin'!"
Oz turned his attention to her. "Really? You think so?"
"Yep!" Xander said. "And that means that it all works out. Come on."
"What?" Oz grabbed Xander's hand. "You're not actually gonna hit on those girls, are you?"
"No. We're gonna hit on them!" Xander grinned.
"You gotta be kidding," Oz told him. "Your girl's gotta be five years older than we are, they work here, which means bothering them is a good way to get thrown out..."
"Don't be such a worrier," Xander said, urging Oz up and leading him across the room, but suddenly the two girls walked back into the kitchen and Xander stopped dead.
"Hey, guys, where you going?" Buffy called out from behind them.
"Uh, nowhere," Oz said.
(Meanwhile, on the interstate just north of Sunnydale...)
Trick looked at the odometer of his black Viper and shrugged. He picked up the cassette tape Mayor Wilkins had given him and jammed it into the tape deck.
"Hello, Mister Trick," the Mayor, Richard Wilkins', voice came through the speakers. "I hope that you followed my instructions to wait until you were ten miles past the city limits before you play this. If you didn't, a subvocal tone will be registering on my urban surveillance system right now, and that would be bad news for you. Well, never mind." Trick shuddered at Wilkins' evident paranoia, then smiled.
"I hope you don't mind all the theatricality, Mister Trick," the message continued, "but I do love this Mission Impossible stuff! Speaking of which, if you look in the glove compartment, you will find a dossier." Trick opened the glove compartment, took out the manilla file folder, and opened it.
"This is my own rendering of Komiara - one of my 'campaign supporters.' He doesn't like photographs." The drawing was reasonably well done in colored pencil, depicting a ferocious demon. "My debt to Komiara was left unspecified at the time I incurred it, and the beast has just named his price. Next picture." Trick shuffled the drawing of Komiara to the back of the folder, revealing a color photograph of three young women, all dark-haired.
"These are the Halliwell sisters - from left to right; Prue Hallwell, an appraiser for the Buckland Auction house, Piper Halliwell, a chef and de facto temporary manager of Quake restaurant, and Phoebe Halliwell, a drifting college dropout. Please memorize the address at the bottom of the picture - the Halliwell's family home. They are the recipients of a powerful witchly legacy - the 'power of three.' As well as a powerful book of magic and group abjurative powers, this legacy gives each of them paranormal powers, telekinesis for one, precognitive clairvoyance for another, and chronostasis - the ability to freeze time, for the third. These powers can be taken by certain demons and warlocks, by killing the witch."
"Okay, but I don't qualify," Trick muttered. "Why am I here?"
"Komiara wants the Charmed chronostasis power - but it cannot take it for itself. The demon is confined to the Hellmouth, and even if the girls were lured here, Komiara would be vulnerable to the power of three and the spells of the Book of Shadows. You, however are not - those defences are only effective against the same kinds of demons and warlocks that can gain by killing the Charmed Ones. Next picture."
Trick shifted the papers again, showing a man and a woman with light brown hair. "These are your first contacts - who operate under the names 'Rex Buckland' and 'Hannah Webster.' They operate the Buckland auction house, not only as a clearinghouse for traditional objects d'art, but more discreetly as a route to the acquisition of more," he paused here, "useful items. Again, please memorize the address of the auction house, marked on the bottom of the picture. At the auction house, you will pick up a talisman of Krostas, for which I have prepaid. Buckland and Webster also employ Prue Halliwell as a way of keeping abreast of the actions of the Charmed ones, so they may have other information useful to your mission - if you can find a way to pay for it."
"And your mission? It is quite simple, really. Determine which sister has the chronostasis power. Fill the crystalline chamber in the talisman with a drop of that girl's blood. Return the talisam to Komiara, here in Sunnydale. With that talisman, Komiara will be able to kill the witch wherever she might be, and thus take her powers.
"Oh, I almost forgot. One other thing, Trick. While preparing this little caper, I got back in touch with a few old fiends who owed me a favor. Since Summers and some of her friends are also in San Fransisco on the high school's art history field trip, I arranged for Summers to be marked and let the Dark Knights see if they could take her on. In any event, they should keep her busy enough that you won't need to worry about her." Wilkins' voice considered. "Well, I think that about does it. This tape and the files will self destruct in five seconds."
"What the hell?" Trick muttered to himself. The tape fell silent and nothing seemed to happen within the five seconds, so he popped it out. The cartridge was intact, but nothing remained of the magnetic tape but fine gray dust. He looked at the pictures from the folder, and they, too, were shriveling into grayness and flaking away into ash-like residue.
"How the hell did he do that?" Trick murmured as he continued driving north.
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