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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to say that these characters were ones that I made up, or even real people that I knew, ( ;-] ) they aren't either of those.
"Lousy - go away," Cordy grumped, and turned away from her.
Buffy grimaced to herself. She had been chosen to go in because Willow and Xander thought Cordelia was less likely to be hostile if it was no-one directly involved in the factory incident. So much for one theory. "You can be angry with me if you want, that's fine," Buffy continued, walking around to the other side of the bed. "But I think it's a good idea if you tell me what happened. Don't you?"
"What do you mean?" Cordy asked her blankly.
"Well, something attacked you and Meredith," Buffy continued persuasively. "And if I don't find out what, and stop it, it may try again. Get my drift?"
Comprehension lighted Cordelia's face, followed quickly by bitter resentment. "They weren't after me. They realized that, at the end. Too late for Meredith, of course, and almost too late for me." Cordy glared as hatefully at Buffy as she could given her current circumstances. "Have I told you how much I despise being mistaken for that slutty Slayer friend of yours? Not to mention the fact that I keep landing in hospitals because of you and your loser friends..."
"Whoa, whoa whoa," Buffy interrupted her. "Back up a second. They thought you were Faith? And what did 'they' look like, anyways?"
"Like, people at first, ordinary people, maybe twenty-something. Then all of a sudden they had on this weird black armor dealie."
"And they attacked you, thinking you were Faith?" Buffy pressed.
"Well, something like that." Cordy shook her head. "They thought we were both Slayers, and that Meredith was you, then." A slightly puzzled look crossed Buffy's face. "Because of the hair, you know. They didn't mention anything about Faith, but they thought I was the other Slayer."
"Uh, okay," Buffy said uncertainly. "Thanks, then. I wish there was something more definite, something we could use to pin down these guys more definitely. I guess I'll call Giles and see if your description rings a bell."
"You're really gonna go out and look for these guys?" Cordelia asked, her eyes wide with awe as they looked over at Buffy. "They're deadly, big-time. I wouldn't want to ever meet them again."
"Yeah, well, that's kind of the point. If I don't deal with them, they might come back for you, or take out someone else thinking they're me. They might even find me and catch me off guard. Anyways, that's the job description - find and beat the bad guys. Why?"
"Uh, nothing," Cordy dismissed the line of discussion with a feeble wave of her hand. "I'm sorry I swiped your perfume, Buffy."
"Perfume? What perfume?" Buffy latched onto this nugget, suspicions already forming in her mind.
"That, uh, Belles de Ricci that was, um, in your suitcase," Cordelia explained haltingly.
"I didn't pa- well, never mind that," Buffy glossed briefly over the perfume's mysterious appearance, guessing that Cordy wouldn't have anything useful to contribute. "Where is it now?"
"Um, in the clothes I was wearing today," Cordy said, gesturing to the dresser the nurse said they had been put in. "Why?"
"Because, uh," Buffy paused as she rifled through the bloodstained designer clothes and dug out the perfume bottle. Right next to it was Cordelia's trusty cellular phone, and for some reason Buffy decided to take that too. "This may be why those whatever-they-were thought you were me, or whatever. What's more, it might give me a way to find them - by letting them find me!"
A nurse poked her head into the hospital room. "Are you almost done here, sweetie?" she asked Buffy. "There are policemen who have to get Miss Chase's statement now; it's urgent."
"I'll be out in two secs," Buffy assured her. Moving close to Cordelia again, she whispered, "Do I need to tell you to be careful what you tell the cops?"
"Of course not," Cordy muttered. "Do I look like I'm wanting to get tossed in the looney bin? I'll make up something believable."
Buffy quickly headed out. About a minute later, two plainclothes men walked in. "I'm Inspector Trudeau," one of them said, and then gestured to his dark-skinned partner. "And this is Inspector Morris. I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a time, but we'd like to know what you can remember about the people who attacked you and your friend."
"There were four of them, three guys and a girl," Cordelia said. "And they had knives. Really long knives, like machetes, you know..."
(Back at the Halliwell house.)
"Hey?" Piper said as she walked in the front door. "Is anyone here?"
A faint response came from upstairs, and Piper followed it right into the attic.
"What's up?" Piper said as she entered. Prue was looking through the Book of Shadows, and Phoebe was sitting nearby and watching her intently.
"More demons," Phoebe informed her dispiritedly. "They attacked two of the field trip girls at the museum - killed one."
"Oh my god!" Piper exclaimed.
"I could have stopped them - I should have!" Prue said out loud. "If I'd only believed what you were saying, Phoebe. I didn't take your vision seriously, until it was too late."
"You saw it?" Piper repeated, trying to get up to speed. "So, sounds like this is something we need to..."
"Found it!" Prue called out. "The Dark Knights - mercenary assasins who disguise themselves as normal people while tracking down their targets."
"Ooh," Phoebe ewwed. "Anything more helpful than that?"
Prue scanned down the page. "Yes, there's a spell to find them and a spell to bind them."
"Isn't that rings?" Piper asked out loud. Her two older sisters looked at her strangely. "Never mind, just Tolkien."
Prue shook her head and continued explaining. "The finding spell enchants a compass to seek out the knights - but it will only start working once they drop their disguise and assume their true forms. The binding spell is a potion that will banish a knight for a lunar cycle, if it touches them."
"Okay," Piper said. "I'll get started on the potions. Alchemy is a lot like cooking."
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