Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Reaching into the army of mugs ranked over the kitchen counter, Jonathan Levinson's hand collided with Giles'. "Um, sorry…."

"No, my fault, truly-"

"Just take your damn coffee, willya?" Oh, why does the floor never open up and swallow you when you want it to?

Eh, just grab our tea an' get clear, Cid advised. We all want to hit something right about now. And given that silver-haired bastard ain't exactly made himself available…. A mental shrug.

Jonathan gulped the first soothing mouthful as they straggled back into the living room, absently pricking his ears at Giles' sudden choked swear.

What's wrong with him? Cid wondered. Thought Reeve liked his coffee black.

Um… Mr. Giles is British.

Yeah? So? What's a British- oh. Tea-drinkers, huh?

And… I don't think I've ever had tea before. Jonathan tried not to stare too obviously into the amber liquid as he found a chair near the Venus Gospel. There were way, way too many sharp pointy things in this room for his peace of mind. Cid, on the other hand, had apparently taken a mental tally and decided they were short a few air-to-ground missiles. Which led Jonathan to recall there was an army base near town, and possibly they could-

Erk. Tea was much, much safer to think about.

Huh. Cid was silent a moment. You like it?

Um… I think so?

Okay if you don't, the pilot groused. But give it a chance. Could grow on you.

What, like Yuffie? Jonathan dared.

Air-sick materia-stealin' little bit of Wutain trouble - yeah, sure. She's not so bad. Long as you pat her down on a regular basis.

Jonathan tried not to choke on his tea. I'm not going to pat down Cordelia!

You think? Just wait 'til she pisses you off. Two words, kid: duct tape.

Jonathan blinked, trying not to picture exactly what the pilot had in mind. It was one thing to know the game character Cid Highwind was grouchy, stubborn, and possessed of a technical genius matched only by his foul mouth. To have it in his own head….

"What?" Cordelia snapped.

"Do us both a favor, and don't ask," Jonathan groaned.

Buffy settled herself on the couch between Xander and Willow, cupping her mug between ungloved hands. "Okay… everybody set?" She waited a second for protests, nodded, and went on. "First things first. Giles? The speech?"

Switching Cait off, the librarian stared into his coffee. "This world is older than any of you know. And contrary to most popular myths, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, demons walked the Earth. They made it their home, their Hell-"

"I think they need the short version," Willow cut in.

"…Yes. Well." Giles looked up. "Vampires, werewolves, demons - they're all quite real. Magic exists; it's not common, but it does. Used - well, in a manner somewhat akin to what the Cetra are supposed to have done, manipulating the energy of the Earth and the dimensions around it. Though most human mages require specific rituals and incantations, instead of the simple effort of will a Cetra - or anyone using materia - appears to need."

"Vampires?" Oz asked.

"I know it's tough to take in," Xander started.

"Actually, that explains a lot."

Like the school newspaper's obituary page, Jonathan thought with a sudden chill. Gangs on PCP… oh my gods.

"In any event," Giles went on, "As long as there have been vampires, there has been a Slayer. One girl, in all the world, born with the strength and skill to hunt the creatures that stalk the night." He met Ms. Summers' gaze. "Like it or not, Buffy is the Slayer. And there is no power on this world, or beyond it, which can change that."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Angel murmured. Took in Joyce's cold stare, and held up placating hands. "Whoa. Ma'am. You haven't seen her fight. She's the best. She even took down the Master - and I didn't think anybody could live through that."

"You want to get technical, she didn't," Willow said flatly. Shook her head, and seemed to deliberately relax. "And a yay for Xander and CPR classes?"

"Oh, definitely a yay," Buffy said warmly.

Slightly pink, Xander appeared to find something incredibly interesting about the floor by his feet. "Um. Yeah. That is…."

"I owe you big, and you're so not getting out of it." Buffy punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"You died." Joyce sat stiffly in her chair, eyes shadowed.

Buffy tried to smile. Couldn't quite. "I tried not to."

"Very inventively, I assure you," Giles said wryly. "I only wish I'd been more help."

"You did everything you could," Buffy stated, "and probably a few things you shouldn't have. And I'm really, really sorry to have to be the one who dumps even bigger problems on you, but we all know I'm not much for the research stuff-"

"Bigger problems?" Cordelia jumped in.

"Cordelia-" Jenny started.

"Uh-uh," the ninja waved her hands, "no way are you leaving me out of this. If Miss I-can't-join-the-cheerleading-squad-'cause-people-catch-on-fire says we've got worse problems than Sephiroth - I want a straight answer!"

"I'm… not sure if it's a worse problem," Buffy said cautiously. "It's bigger. And kind of two problems tangled up together, though if we can fix one the other ought to handle itself… oh, there is just no good way to say this." She cupped her face in her free hand, stealing a breath of time to gather her thoughts. "Gaea followed us home, and now she wants to keep us." Buffy's voice dropped. "Keep me, anyway. Though I think she'd like the rest of you as nifty bonus prizes."

Pandemonium broke out.

"Gaea?" Joyce sputtered. "That's a Cetra myth-"

"Myth, sure," Angel agreed. "But the kind of myth even the old Roman gods were supposed to be scared of. I don't think even Janus would mess with a Titan-"

"Keep us?" Cordelia yelped. "We're not pets! My manicure's ruined, and my hairstyle, and I keep having to sit on my hands so I don't head home and throw out every pair of high heels I've ever owned - how much worse is this night going to get?"

Jonathan sat back and let the babble wash over him, shaking his head. You really think she saw-?

She's got Cloud in her head, doesn't she? Cid pointed out. Dunno what Aeris did to the poor kid, but if he saw it, it's real.

I thought you liked Aeris.

Sure I do. But me liking her doesn't change the fact that she an' the Lifestream did something to Cloud that makes him have these fits. Or that she knew what we were doing when we went after Sephiroth, and she didn't try to stop us. A silent shake of head. Jonathan, we put a sixteen-year-old kid in charge of us, and we kept him there. Hell, we didn't know how old he was in his head - kid sure looked grown, much as he's ever gonna get - but we did know he was messed up. And we still kept him there. None of us had any clue 'til later how scared he was the whole time, how sure he was that he was gonna screw up and get one of us killed. Or all of us. Mix that with Sephiroth fucking with his head… amazing he came out as much in one piece as he did.

How do you-?

Reeve, Cid said wryly. Leave it to the spy to get curious an' poke around Cloud's real past. He found some interesting stuff. Probably more than he ever told the rest of us. But after the smoke cleared an' we started putting real lives back together… well, he started talking to Cloud. Careful and easy, like you do a wild chocobo. Did the kid a world of good, you ask me. That's how we found out that maybe his birthday made him twenty-one when AVALANCHE found him, but his head was a mix of sixteen and Zack. Poor kid.

"Enough." Giles' quiet voice cut through the babble before it could veer into hysterics. "Buffy. Perhaps you could simply tell us what you saw."

The blonde nodded, eyes on her coffee. "Cloud and I were standing in a field of flowers. It looked like Aeris' church in the sunlight… but it wasn't. She was there."

"Aeris?" Jenny said softly.

"Gaea." Buffy sighed. "She didn't… talk, exactly. It was more images with feelings, you know? A story all boxed up and handed to you, and I've been trying to unpack it ever since." She hesitated. "Giles… is there any chance Jenova could be real?"

A chill ran down Jonathan's spine. He swore he could hear everybody stop breathing. Oh, fuck no, Cid whispered.

"It is an avenue I intend to research," Giles said cautiously. "Was there something in these… images… that leads you to believe so?"

Buffy let out a slow breath. "Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a planet called Gaea. She had kids, and she loved them, and some of the ones she loved best were called Ancients. She didn't even mind that a lot of them ended up turning more toward their technology than leaning on the magic they could do with her help. Kids are supposed to grow up, right? And they built wonderful things; she loved watching them. Submarines, airships, spaceships… even whole flying cities."

"Hey! That's Final Fantasy VIII!" Jonathan objected.

"Whatever," Xander quipped.

"Fill me in on that later." Buffy put down her empty mug. "Anyway. Somewhere in the middle of this-" she clapped her hands together. "Bam. Crater. Out of space, out of another dimension - I don't know, I'm not sure if she knows. But suddenly there was rock that wasn't Gaea, and life that wasn't Gaea, and a mind that wasn't Gaea."

"Jenova?" Willow squeaked.

"She called it 'Calamity'," Buffy replied. "And given she'd never had anybody to give her a talk about strangers, Gaea tried to say hello. Which, as you're probably guessing, did not go over well."

"The destruction of the Cetra," Oz stated.

"Close enough," Buffy agreed. "Some of them died through plague. Some through mutation. Some from the mutants. Gaea remembers one of the cities taking off, flying so far away she couldn't feel anyone anymore. Or maybe there just wasn't anyone on it left alive to feel. She doesn't know." Buffy took a breath. "But some of the Ancients, the ones who hadn't forgotten Gaea, lasted long enough to make a plan."

"Any of this sound familiar?" Joyce asked in an undertone.

"Oddly enough, yes," Giles answered, distracted. "I simply can't quite put my finger on it… do go on, Buffy."

"Here's where it gets a little freaky," Buffy stated. "They got a group together, and stole… something, from Calamity. Like… a piece of tainted Lifestream. A remnant of Calamity's will, made into a body. They broke that remnant into black fire, and they infused it into a girl. One of their own." She looked up, blue eyes wide and bright as stars. "Giles - they made a Slayer."

Jonathan gulped. "And a SOLDIER's made with Jenova cells and mako-"

"I do begin to see some alarming parallels, yes." The Watcher's worried gaze snapped back to Buffy. "And then?"

"Gaea helped their artificers make First Tsurugi." Buffy jabbed a finger toward the sheathed six-in-one sword leaning against the wall. "That First Tsurugi."

"…Oh dear…."

"The Slayer took First Tsurugi, and a bunch of survivors, and went after Calamity." Buffy glanced at Xander. "Gaea's not too good at showing individual people, but one of the group was somebody who'd been mutated by Calamity, who was still able to fight the demons in his head."

Xander paled.

"They couldn't kill it," Buffy said grimly. "But they were able to drive Calamity away. To seal it, somewhere else, so the survivors had a chance to run." She held her head in her hands a moment; sat up, and straightened her shoulders. "Tsurugi was lost with the First Slayer. Gaea's been looking for it for ages, but she couldn't find it. Until it woke up. Tonight. With us." Buffy swallowed. "Giles, she really, really wants to keep us."

Jenny gave Giles a level look. "This does sound familiar to you."

"I… it may. Although, if it is what I think, it's one of the stories even the Watcher's Council decided was a true fairytale."

"Can you get to it online? You're not going back to the library tonight," Jenny added at his sharp look. "I don't care if Sephiroth burned up, blew up, or flat-out stole your whole collection. You're tired. We're all tired. And you know we'd have a hard enough time taking down Sephiroth if we were all at top strength. Splitting up now would be-" she hesitated.

"Suicidal," Xander said bluntly.

"Taken care of." Joyce held up her PHS, waved it toward the younger half of the crowd. "Your parents all think you're at a sleepover here."

Cordelia looked positively green.

"Sephiroth won't care how high up you are in the school pecking order," Joyce said coolly. "And flattering as your little coterie is to the ego, they'll leave you in a heartbeat if real trouble comes calling." She nodded toward the other teens. "They won't. Don't ask me why."

"Cordelia's honest," Willow blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Cordelia almost snarled.

"Well - you are. You always say what you think. Even if it's not very nice," Willow added in a smaller voice. "And that's a good thing."

Cordelia stared at her.

"While we're being honest…" Buffy lifted two fingers. "Second problem. We've got other people stuck in our heads. We need to get them out, or things are going to get pretty freaky around here."

"Like they aren't already?" Jonathan muttered.

Hey!

Well, it's weird, Jonathan defended himself. How would you like waking up with a high school student from another world in your head?

Vidflash, kid - far as I'm concerned, I did.

"It's a little more serious than you think." Buffy drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

Uh-oh, Cid warned. Messy memory time.

"Did you ever wonder how a guy who'd spent the past five years being pickled in mako could ride a motorcycle up a gazillion flights of stairs?"

"Um… he thought he was Zack?" Jonathan ventured.

"Doesn't give you the skills. Or the muscle memory. Or the plain-old know-how of how to handle a monster piece of machinery like that without killing yourself. SOLDIER reflexes or not." Buffy didn't look up. "Cloud got curious. So he asked one of the few people he knew who could still get access to SOLDIER medical records."

"And Reeve did come to some conclusions," Giles allowed. "I'm under the impression, though, that those deductions were meant to remain private."

"When nobody else was in the same fix? No kidding. With you guys dragged into the same kind of mess? Giles, we have got to get this spell off. Think about it."

Giles blinked, and winced. "Damn."

"Would somebody mind filling in the guy who has no idea what this game is about?" Angel said bluntly. "I'm not bad with research myself. Maybe I can help-"

"Jenova's telepathic," Buffy bit out, gaze fixed on her knees.

Angel took that in, nodded. "Some demons are."

"Yes, well; most demons are not loose collections of infectious cells, some of which have been forced into symbiosis with a human host by genetic manipulation and copious application of concentrated life energy," Giles said testily.

"You have to get close before she can grab you," Buffy said as Angel stared. "If your head's on anywhere near straight, she can't grab you. Sephiroth… Seph was teetering on the edge before he ever went near the reactor, and damn Hojo…." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "Anyway. Key fact here is, Cloud spent years drowning in mako. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to touch. You reach out for anything, anything, to hold onto, and there's nothing…."

"We only have speculation," Giles stepped in as Buffy shuddered. "Informed speculation, to be sure, but it wasn't as if anyone could repeat the - experiment." He grimaced. "In essence, given what Sephiroth proved capable of with enough power and Jenova cells… it seems likely that Cloud's mind tapped into the closest possible source of outside input."

"Zack," Jonathan realized. And why does that give me a really bad feeling?

Dunno, kid. But I definitely agree with you. Anything that can make Cloud look back there….

"He didn't just think he was Zack," Buffy got out. "He was in Zack's head."

"In programmer's terms, Cloud downloaded a copy of available subroutines and, by dint of trial and error, customized them to fit local parameters," Giles said dryly. "Unfortunately, human minds are not computers. And therein lies the difficulty."

"Think about it. Once Tifa helped Cloud sort out his memories in the Lifestream, why did he still remember anything about being a SOLDIER?" Buffy's voice was almost muffled by her knees, before she braced herself and pulled back a little. "Because he did. Does. Always will."

"Due to a rather intriguing mental phenomenon," Giles nodded. His hand lifted near his face; fell back, realizing there were no glasses to shove up. "Bear with me. This came from a rather involved lecture by a specialist in SOLDIER neurochemistry. The fine points of that field were never my area, and they certainly aren't Reeve's-"

"Your brain puts a sticker on any memory you use," Buffy stated. "That's important, that's maybe-good, that's file and forget. Every time you access something, the brain slaps on another sticker. Eventually the old ones wear off, and only the new ones are left. The more stickers you've got, and the more recent they are, the more important that memory is. The more it's part of you." She finally looked up. "Only since humans aren't telepathic, the brain's got no way to filter what's supposed to be yours, and what's not."

Giles' jaw dropped. "Cloud was listening to that? And… it made sense?"

Buffy frowned. “Wasn’t it supposed to?”

"Well, er…."

"You're surprised," Joyce said plainly.

“Painful as it is to admit, yes, I am,” Giles sighed.

"Strife's young. And he missed out on a lot of higher education," Joyce shrugged. "But you can't match tactics with Sephiroth - the Demon General of Wutai - and be dumb." A smirk played on her lips. "Who knows? Maybe strategy and tactics runs in the family."

What is she getting at? Jonathan asked warily.

Got me, Cid shrugged. Last I knew, Cloud's Mom was dead. And he didn't talk about any other family.

Whatever gauntlet she'd thrown down, Giles avoided it. "In any event… our best guess is, Cloud didn't simply imitate Zack's past history. He assimilated the memories themselves. Whatever their origin, his mind now treats them as his."

"We don't have Jenova cells," Willow said, eyes wide. “Well… most of us don’t….”

"But we each have another person in our heads," Xander stated. "Memories and all." He flicked a not-quite-calm glance at Giles. "Um… demons."

"Ironically, they may be the least of your problems," Giles sighed. "Possessing demons, such as the spirit that inhabits a body to create a vampire, have their own coherent mystical matrix. Their own… body and mind of energy, so to speak. Which is likely why our enemy is Sephiroth." He nodded toward the ensouled vampire. "If Angel can rein in his demon… well, no one has ever accused Sephiroth of being weak-willed." He eyed Buffy. "Er, just what did you say to him?"

"Three-day ceasefire. I hope."

Say what?!?

Scary thing was, Jonathan couldn't tell which of them had thought it first.

"Maybe he'll hold to it. Maybe he's already got plans, and he's using the time to do something that'll bite us. Maybe I just ticked him off, and he'll be here any minute to level the place. I don't know." Buffy shook her head. "Seemed like the right thing to do."

Heart attack, Cid muttered, as Jonathan tried to wrap his mind around the very idea of a ceasefire with Sephiroth. One of these days, I swear. Kid does not know how to live without risking his damn idiot ass.

Her ass, Jonathan corrected absently - then almost hid behind his chair, cringing at the inevitable cascade of embarrassing teenage male images of a girl he knew could break him into kindling with her bare hands.

Which… didn't come. What the-?

You kidding? That's a SOLDIER over there. I like my spine the way it is - in one piece. On top of that… hell, if she's half as confused as Cloud was - wouldn't be right. Somebody's got to be a grownup in this crew. Friends, kiddo. Get used to being friends with that woman. Gods know she could sure use 'em.

Yeah, Jonathan thought wistfully. So could I.

You got a better chance now than that school'd ever let you get, Cid pointed out. Nothin' like watching each others' backs to figure out who you like. Or don't. Hell, even Mr. I-have-sinned, brood-brood, shoot-shoot, rarrgh Valentine ain't half bad.

"What I do know," Buffy said, dragging Jonathan's attention back to the present, "is that I have just about hit my limit of weird for the night. Which for a Slayer is saying something. So I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I plan to take a shower, hide under my covers, and not come out until either daylight, or the ceiling caves in." Shoulders straight, she rose, crossing behind the sofa to sling First Tsurugi back into harness. "And if the ceiling does cave in, I'm going to hit it with a Bolt first and ask questions later."

Not an idle threat, Jonathan knew. For all his bouts with mako poisoning, Cloud had absolutely no problem sleeping with materia equipped. Which was part of what had convinced them he was a SOLDIER in the first place. Not many people could sleep soundly with bits of Ancient knowledge singing in their heads.

Then again, after five years drowning in mako, materia-song was probably Cloud's lullaby.

"Bolt?" Angel asked in an undertone.

Willow grinned at him, in a way that had Cid reflexively checking for timers counting down. "Lightning materia." She flourished her Magrod, and let it crackle. "Like this. Only nastier."

Angel stood himself, searching Buffy's face with a worried frown. "Is that safe?"

"I can always replace walls," Joyce said wryly. Looked at her daughter. "Go ahead. We've got two spare bedrooms; we'll work something out."

"Thanks." Buffy hesitated, biting her lip - then shook her head, and vanished up the stairs, wind ruffling in her wake.

Jonathan tried not to let his jaw drop. I've seen how fast Cloud's supposed to be in-game, but….

Somethin' else to see it for real, huh? Rough sympathy colored Cid's tone. There's a reason Shinra used to rule the world. Don't you ever forget it.

Shinra. Jonathan licked dry lips, eyeing Ms. Summers. And she's got Rufus….

"Moms are supposed to fix things," Joyce said, half to herself. "If all I can do is give her some space… well."

"She shouldn't be alone," Angel argued.

Joyce's eyes narrowed. Willow and Oz tensed.

Oh, no way is this going to end well, Cid muttered.

"What happened to Merrick?" Jenny asked abruptly.

Giles' brows shot up. "I don't see quite what relevance that might have to our current difficulty-"

"Because you didn't see Buffy's eyes when she went after the Master. When she left you out cold on the library floor to keep you from dying along with her," Jenny stated. "It looks familiar. Now."

"Tifa?" Oz asked.

"Remembers it," Jenny nodded. Bent a questioning look on Giles.

He grimaced. "The reports are sketchy, to say the least. I know they were hunting Lothos - a master vampire of great power," he clarified, looking at Joyce. "They had managed to cut a swath through his minions; apparently enough that Lothos decided to step in himself. After that…." He cleared his throat. "Merrick was reportedly impaled with his own stake. Most likely involuntarily self-inflicted."

"Run that by me again?" Joyce said blankly.

Giles inclined his head. "Lothos was highly adept at mind control."

"You can say that again. Sadistic son of a-" Angel blew out a breath. "He probably held Buffy there to watch while he made Merrick shove the stake in. It's a fast way to break a Slayer, trapping her in her own head while the people she's trying to protect die…." His words trailed off, as he listened to horrified silence. "Now what?"

"In the game," Jonathan said carefully, "that's exactly what Sephiroth does to Cloud."

"He tried to make Cloud kill Aeris," Cordelia added, wide-eyed. "And Cloud wouldn't - he couldn't-"

"But he couldn't break the control enough to stop her death," Xander finished.

"Is it just me," Willow said in the uneasy hush, "or is it really freaky that Cloud and Buffy have a lot of broken pieces in common?"

"Not just you," Xander muttered. "G-man?"

Giles regarded the ominous tome Willow had brought in, and reluctantly shook his head. "Reading an unfamiliar grimoire is rather like approaching a suspected terrorist device, Xander. And Ethan was a nasty soul on top of that. No; for the moment, Buffy has precisely the right idea. We should rest, while we can." He rose, giving Joyce a genteel nod. "If you'd be so kind?"

"Certainly." Joyce didn't smile, but her eyes had lost some of their hard edge. "Under one condition." Her gaze swept the room. "The weapons stay with you."

Xander blanched. "Um, Mrs. Summers-"

"You don't have to like it," she said bluntly. "And if we can manage it, I'd prefer to have this house standing tomorrow. But if Sephiroth comes calling, we both know he'll be after Buffy first. And if my daughter gets hurt protecting you when she should have been protecting herself-" Joyce cut herself off, rubbing at a headache. "Sorry. Rufus has pretty vivid ideas about what he'd do."

I bet, Cid commented wryly. Don't know about you, kid, but I don't want to be in the same room with 'em.

Jonathan nodded, joining the uneasy group milling toward the stairs. But one thing still nagged at him.

Stop calling me kid!

Hot water, good, Buffy thought muzzily, rinsing out shampoo and - with luck - the last of the gel Willow had used to give her hair spikes. Not that she planned to bring it up with Xander, he was feeling bad enough already, but that had been one of the costume clinchers: knowing she could pull off the look without a wig. Wigs itched.

No kidding, Cloud groused. Who makes those things, wannabe lab sadists? And if I never have to wear a dress again….

Buffy dropped her soap, yelped as stray suds slid into her eyes, and did the mad scramble of shower slipperiness before catching herself on the tiled wall.

…Smooth.

Buffy let the spray wash out the sting, blinking a few times before grabbing a facecloth to get back into the land of the unblurry seeing. Dress?

Um… it was an emergency?

Dress?!?

Well, Tifa'd been kidnapped, Don Corneo had way too many guys for a frontal assault, and it was the best way to get in. Barrett sure as Skadi's snows couldn't have passed, even if he'd been there… um. There's just no way to make that sound good, is there?

Buffy giggled.

…I'm never going to live it down, am I?

"S-sorry!" Buffy got out, fishing the soap out of the drain. "Not laughing at you, really… Xander didn't… not a word… the irony's going to kill me, really it is… I almost got killed by a puppet once, who am I to talk about embarrassing…."

Zack would never have let me live it down, either, Cloud admitted ruefully. I guess it is kind of funny. Now. Back then, I was stuck between worrying about Tifa and trying not to spontaneously combust from blushing… Aeris was merciless, I swear. We could have gone with just a wig and a dress, but no. She had to make sure I got makeup, and stockings, and I don't even want to think about what I went through to get the underwear.

Turning the heat up just this side of scalding, Buffy gave up and snickered into her hands.

Nice… lucky for you I like hot water.

Only thing that helps after a long night Slaying, Buffy agreed.

Thoughtful silence lingered in her mind. So you're in this for life.

Buffy let hot water pound out a few last knots, sighed, and turned off the shower. Yeah, well, last I checked, mako eyes weren't exactly on the returnable list either.

I go hunting monsters. They don't usually come looking for me, Cloud pointed out. And mercenaries get paid.

Ooo, a Slayable allowance. Would be nice, Buffy thought wistfully, grabbing a towel. 'Cause I saw these killer shoes at the mall last week, and you put them together with some casual slacks and a new blouse… and you so don't want to hear this, right?

Have to admit, I never thought about high heels that way, Cloud observed. Tifa's all about combat boots, and Aeris never mentioned it… but then, Aeris didn't have the kind of strength it takes to put a spike through a skull like that. Who taught you to fight dirty, and when can I shake their hand?

Half-dried, Buffy's jaw dropped. I was not thinking that!

Silence.

I mean, I'm a regular girl, and I have a life. You know, with boys and coffee and mall sales. Even if it does get interrupted by impending apocalypses-

There's nothing wrong, Cloud said softly, with being a soldier.

Pale fingers clenched on blue terrycloth.

A twitch of shy laughter. Though getting paid would be good. Who came up with this 'Slayer works alone and in secret for free' plan, anyway? That's crazy. Even Sephiroth didn't-

Toweling wet hair, Buffy felt his flinch.

…Sorry. Before - before he lost it, Sephiroth always had Zack to back him up. No one should fight alone. Cloud sighed. You're doing the right thing, you know. If your friends won't stay away from the monsters, and it looks like in this town the monsters won't stay away from them, the best thing you can do is have them fight with you.

Silent, Buffy belted on a bathrobe and headed for bed. Absently ran her fingers through her hair, and frowned. That didn't feel quite right. She glanced at the dresser mirror-

No no not me can't be me-

It's okay. It's okay, I've got you - I remember this from waking up in Midgar. You're not going crazy. You can do this.

I'm not….

You're Buffy. You slammed the Hellmouth closed right in a demon's face. Or tentacles, whatever… you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. A hesitation. You could call somebody else up here, I'm sure they wouldn't mind-

No! Buffy closed her eyes. Deliberately relaxed fists and arms, muscle by muscle. No, I want to handle this alone. She bit her lip. Well, mostly alone.

A mental nod. Ready?

Steeling herself, Buffy opened her eyes.

Oddly enough, it was her ears that caught her attention first; left lobe pierced and waiting for the silvery wolf's head earring on her dresser, right healed over courtesy of a SOLDIER's immune system and a few hours studless.

Speaking of, Cloud pointed out shyly. If you don't want to have to pierce that again in the morning….

Point. Buffy ran admiring fingertips over the wolf's muzzle, picked up the earring and fixed it in place. Started at the odd sense of shifting, as the earring back closed and flowed, becoming one solid piece of metal with the wire through her ear.

Tiny bit of materia in it, Cloud said cheerfully, avid as any guy showing off a new gadget. Not cheap, but worth it. You're in another fight, you lose the earring back, earring drops out who knows where….

Oh yeah, she knew that scenario. Could write chapter and verse on it. She'd lost earrings down storm drains, roof gutters, the occasional gaping demon maw… some of those she'd gotten back. Still, didn't help curfew negotiations with her mom when she left with earrings and came back without. Especially if there was hickey-mistakable neck bruising involved. And given how often various uglies had tried to either strangle her or tear her throat out….

Would make things tricky, Cloud agreed. And if you're a SOLDIER, if you can't get a replacement in half a day or so - and when you're out in the middle of nowhere with monsters breathing down your neck, sometimes you just can't - getting pierced again is a pain.

"Way better than clip-on," Buffy agreed. And dared to brush her fingers through damp hair again. Damp, soft, oddly short hair - and while growing her hair out again was going to be teeth-gritting annoying, she could have sworn she'd gotten all the gel out.

I think you did.

"No gel equals no spiky," Buffy said with what should have been the Oscar award for deliberate calm. Pointed at the mirror, where drying strands were once again beginning to defy gravity. "That, spiky."

Um… I've never needed gel.

"Urk."

At least it's not Zack's.

"So instead of porcupine, I get chocobo. Joy."

Hey!

And… that was about as much stalling as she could reasonably get away with. Shoulders stiff, Buffy looked the mirror straight in the eyes.

That's… actually kind of pretty, she thought. In a twisted Hellmouthy sort of way.

Azure, bright as lit sapphires, with a thin rim of emerald around the pupil. Just a little too odd to be human; iris a bit too wide, whites faintly cerulean, tear ducts with the odd blue-metal sheen most civilians never looked a SOLDIER in the eye long enough to see.

Mako leaves a mark, Cloud agreed. That's not the only thing wrong, though, is it?

Wrong? Wrong wasn't the word. Exactly. Muscle where even a Slayer wasn't quite used to having it, features with a finer edge than her yearbook photos, a sun-gold arch of brows that made it clear she wasn't going to be using hair bleach again any time soon. And that didn't get into the rest of the world suddenly being a few inches shorter. That didn't happen to the others.

Giles, Ms. Calendar, and your mother were already about the same height as the people I knew, Cloud pointed out, thinking it through. Cordelia's taller than Yuffie, but I doubt that'll make much difference once she gets in a little practice with Conformer. Jonathan's a little short, but he'll have Cid's build; he just needs to grow into it. And the other three are Turks. Or were. Firearms and hand-to-hand. They don't need lots of height. His tone turned rueful. And the last time I checked, 'about two inches taller than Tifa' doesn't really qualify as tall.

"Still bites, huh?"

Well…. A sheepish shrug. Not as much as it used to. It's good to be able to blend in with the crowd, sometimes.

Blend in. Right. This was going to be pushing it even for Sunnydale, home of the terminally oblivious. Granted, being near the bottom of the social heap granted you some level of immunity - no matter what you showed up in, it was all considered equally tacky - but she couldn't think of a single outfit that could distract her classmates from this….

She couldn't think of an outfit, period. Head, meet dresser top. Repeat.

Wha…?

I don't have anything to wear. Buffy rested her forehead on top of the dresser, eyes closed.

Um… I get the impression girls say that a lot. Except for Tifa and Yuffie, who always like fighting gear-

No. I mean I really don't have anything to wear. Blinking, Buffy regarded the wood grain. From this close you could almost picture it as a satellite photo of wildebeest herds stampeding across the savanna. Or chocobos out by the Gold Saucer.

…Oh. Sheepishness brushed her, almost raising a blush. Um. Sorry?

"You know what? I'm going to think about it tomorrow." Pushing off from the dresser, she dug into the very back of the middle drawer. Yep, oversized sleep t-shirt, check. Should be just long enough to be decent. Fluffy unicorn on the front, but what the heck. She pulled it on, stopped by her discarded gear long enough to slip on a wristband with Lightning and Restore, and regarded her bed's current occupant with a resigned smile. "Oh. And you can officially snicker to your heart's content now."

…You sleep with a stuffed animal.

Grin wry, Buffy stroked the soft plush pig. "Cloud, meet Mr. Gordo."

And it has a name.

Slipping under the covers, Buffy waited for the stifled laughter.

But it was more of a chuckle, instead, and another of those odd almost-hair-ruffling feelings, warm as sunshine. Okay. We're both a little left of sanity.

"Is there a right of sanity?"

I think it's called Turks.

That startled a snicker out of her, even as it brought up uneasy thoughts of Willow and Xander, and Reno and Vincent, and what in the worlds were they all going to do…?

Tomorrow. Worry about it tomorrow.

Determined, Buffy pulled the covers over her head and breathed in home.

"Buffy." Leaning in from the tree outside her bedroom, Angel tapped on the windowpane. "Buffy?"

The bump under the blankets didn't move.

Maybe this isn't a good idea….

No, that was old cowardice talking. Buffy'd been cursed. He didn't care how brave a face she was putting on for the others - she had to be terrified.

More than terrified. He knew curses from the inside out. They were a violation, in the deepest sense of the word. A mystic rape that left you a stranger to yourself and the world, uncertain what to do or think or even be next.

Without his soul, he'd do terrible things. Angel knew that. But still, a small, wounded part of him wished he'd never fed on that Gypsy girl.

But then I wouldn't be here. And I wouldn't be able to help Buffy. Decision made, he climbed through the window.

And stopped, one ankle caught on the sill, staring cross-eyed at a fist glimmering with turquoise lightning. "Ah… hi?"

"'S not morning yet," Buffy said blearily, eyes glowing unnatural blue, the rest of her still mostly under the covers.

"Would be kind of awkward if it was," Angel pointed out wryly. Watched the spell dim, and slowly disentangled his foot from the window. "How did you do that?"

"Materia." Buffy lifted her wrist to show off two marble-sized emerald spheres set into metal slots in a leather wristband. "Like Giles said."

A stored ritual and incantation, if he'd understood that sketchy explanation right. Very convenient. Scarily convenient. "You shouldn't use those too much. Black magic's like drugs. It can really mess people up." And… why was Buffy giving him that look, like he'd just kicked a hapless freshman?

"Materia is earth magic, Angel," Buffy said levelly. "It's not good. It's not evil. There's only one Black Materia, and we don't have it." She paled suddenly, sitting bolt upright; scrunched her eyes closed, as if listening for something too faint to hear-

Unicorn? Angel found himself thinking, noting how the ivory horn angled across one very nice mound of... um. Not the best thing to be thinking about right this minute. Buffy needed comforting, not heavy petting. Though both could work, under the right circumstances.…

The Slayer let out an explosive breath of relief, and nodded. "It doesn't exist here." Thank god was evident in slumped shoulders. "So. Crazy, not stupid. Good to know Ethan had some limits."

Whatever that meant. He was going to have to grab Xander or Jonathan and shake the game details out of them. Sitting on the sidelines clueless while everyone talked around a fake history he didn't know was driving him nuts.

And… Buffy was missing the point. "Buffy, they were created by black magic. By a curse. Maybe they were meant to be just earth magic, but they're not. They can't be."

"Angel-" Whatever was on the tip of her tongue, Buffy bit it back, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look. Giles is a Watcher, and Ms. Calendar's a techno-pagan. If we were really messing with something that was going to eat our souls, I think they'd know about it."

"Except they're under the same spell you are." Angel eyed the ominous shape of First Tsurugi where it lay sheathed by the side of Buffy's bed; right where one skilled dive and roll would have her come up with that mass of enchanted metal ready to slash.

Given he knew Buffy didn't know the first thing about swords, much less an impossible monster like that one… that casual placement bothered him. A lot.

It's influencing her. It's got to be. If that's what the thing that's calling itself Gaea is using to get a lock on them-

"Guess you've got a point," Buffy admitted. "But trust me, none of us are going to use materia when we don't have to. It's not like most of the spells I've seen flung around. You're not just opening a path and invoking something else to pour the power through. The magic comes from you. Period."

Even worse. "You mean, using these things could kill you." Shaking his head, Angel moved in to rub a loving hand along her shoulder. "Buffy…."

Funny. For a second there he could have sworn he heard Buffy counting under her breath.

Of course, the counting wasn't quite as high on Angel's list of worries as the fact that his well-meaning hand had been caught in the kind of grip he hadn't felt since the last time he'd tangled with some of the rougher customers in Willy's bar.

Just how strong is she?

"It's late," Buffy said levelly. "I've had a really bad night, and even if Willow can't hear you up here, which I wouldn't count on, Xander definitely can. Since I'm thinking you missed the memo, Willow went as Reno. Who's a Turk. Xander went as Vincent. Who's an ex-Turk. Only there's about as many ex-Turks as there are ex-vampires. And my Mom went as Rufus. Who's the Turks' boss."

"Um…." He wasn't sure what all that meant, but it definitely didn't sound good.

"My Mom is expecting me to be up here alone." Buffy still hadn't let go of his hand. And not in a good way. "Do I really have to mention Xander's not your biggest fan? And that he's just as tired and cranky as the rest of us. Only when Vincent Valentine gets ticked off, things have a tendency to get broken into very small pieces."

"I noticed that," Angel admitted. Hard to miss the horned silver-blue wolf-like thing Xander had turned into in the middle of one really nasty - and in retrospect, incredibly stupid - knot of vampires. Just as it was hard to miss that Buffy's little group had seen the change coming, backed off enough so Xander had room to shred things… and outside of that, hadn't so much as flinched.

Like they'd seen it before. Like they'd expected it.

And they weren't afraid.

What kind of people are these guys?

Besides something that had a very strong grip…. "Did I do something?" Angel nodded toward Buffy's fingers, uneasily noting that her knuckles weren't even pale. And her hold was actually starting to hurt. "Because whatever it was, I'm sorry."

"Angel…." Buffy drew a breath, and grimaced. "Good night." She let go, and stepped back, motioning toward the window. "I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

No. Not okay. Your friends are all terrified of a guy who ran from you, and you don't even want to let me touch you. Angel eyed ominous steel. And it's all tied up with that weird sword- Fast as thought, he dove for it.

Buffy was faster.

"So were you ever going to tell me?" Joyce toyed with her empty mug as the three adults gathered in the kitchen.

"Mrs. Summers, I-"

Lame.

Give him credit, Rufus shrugged. The man's not even sweating. Yet.

Yet, Joyce agreed darkly. "Or would there have just been a nice note at the funeral?"

Eyebrows raised, Jenny stepped out of the line of fire.

Giles saw that, and straightened, meeting Joyce's eyes squarely. "If you wish the truth, Mrs. Summers, there likely never would have been a note. One night you'd be arguing over proper curfew with your daughter yet again; the next, she would be gone." His gaze never wavered. "And so would I."

"Off to the next girl?" Joyce asked bluntly.

A shift of blue-clad shoulders. "I've seen Watchers who've outlived their Slayers. They're bitter. Broken. I promised myself years ago I would never become like them."

"Only one sure way to do that," Joyce pointed out.

"I know."

Well, well; Strife's not the only one who can inspire unreasoning loyalty, Rufus observed. I wonder just how it is he does it?

By being the kind of person you can trust, no matter what, Joyce shot back.

Really? You don't trust your daughter. Why should they?

Joyce flinched. Covered it with a sharp glance at Jenny. "You know what Buffy's up against."

"Well," the computer teacher fumbled, "Not really-"

"How bad are her odds?"

"I…." At a loss, Jenny looked toward Giles.

"She's already outlived most Slayers." The Watcher's tone was painfully blunt. "Lothos himself is on record as having slain over a dozen girls. Then there's the Master, the She-Mantis, any number of other creatures we've encountered… every night Buffy lives defies the odds. Part of that may be luck. Part can be accounted for by her friends; Willow and Xander have been incredibly helpful in research and other endeavors, and they have the uncommonly good sense to run from a fight they cannot win. But I suspect a great deal of the remainder is pure determination." His voice softened. "Every night, she goes out to face creatures that would devour you without a thought. And every night, she does everything in her power to ensure she will come home to you."

"Everything except quit," Joyce said bitterly.

"She can't," Jenny said plainly. "Believe me, she's tried."

Giles nodded in reluctant agreement. "To be Chosen as a Slayer is to become a creature of Destiny."

"Mystically tagged might be the best way to put it," Jenny stuck in.

"If inelegant," Giles sighed. "She is marked as a warrior for Light. No matter where she might go, or what she might do, those touched by Darkness will inevitably find themselves drawn to confront her."

Joyce lifted her head, more than willing to adopt all of Rufus' cool disdain. "So you can just stand there and tell me my daughter is destined to die."

"No." Giles' voice matched hers for chill. "I tell you your daughter will fight."

Ah. There's my little corporate spy, Rufus smirked. Quiet, polite, way too decent for his own good - and a spine of mythril steel. Pity my father missed seeing it. He might have lived a little longer. A sense of a shrug. Then again, knowing Sephiroth… probably not. Attention sharpened. He's vulnerable. Keep pushing.

Okay…. "If my daughter fights, and you do research, why didn't you see this coming?"

"Because historically, nothing happens on Halloween," Giles said frankly. "It's far too uncertain a time. The wheel of the year turns from summer to winter, Light to Dark. It's a time of transition, of change, and the vast majority of those who have dealings with the supernatural have far better sense than to tamper with it."

"Really?" Joyce asked, feeling Rufus' glee at a trap closing. "How did you know Ethan Rayne?"

Ah. Joyce almost shared Rufus' smirk as Giles hesitated. He really doesn't want to answer that one-

High in the house, glass shattered.

Something thumped outside. Joyce swallowed nausea as Rufus automatically identified the sound as thrown body, one, probably not high enough to be fatal.

"Buffy!"

Angel. Who was definitely not her daughter's study partner, no matter how convincing Buffy had been with that story last year.

Just before I was hospitalized for massive blood loss, Joyce thought. And we had to replace the whole front window-

Probably because Buffy threw something out through it? Rufus noted. Or someone?

Gun drawn, Joyce slammed out the back door.

"I'm okay!" Buffy was calling back into the house as Joyce drew a bead on the vampire rising out of broken glass. "Just a little misunderstanding… um… sorry about the window…."

"We'll talk about it later," Joyce stated, aware of Giles and Jenny behind her. I don't know what a techno-pagan can do, but Tifa doesn't have any distance weapons besides spells-

Reeve will shoot if we're in trouble, Rufus stated. Tseng's kept track of his marksmanship progress. The man's no Turk, but he's surprisingly good. Especially under stress.

Good to know. "Care to explain?" Joyce said levelly, not taking her eyes off Angel.

Angel tensed. "There's… not really anything to explain, Ma'am…."

Right. And mako was safe as kittens.

"It was just a misunderstanding, Mom!" Buffy's voice wasn't quite panicked, but it was heading that way. "Really!"

Bruises on his wrist, Rufus noted clinically. Worried and offended guy, startled other half of the relationship, sudden explosion of violence from someone who usually has such tendencies under very good control… oh, Hel.

You think-? Joyce hid a startled flinch.

I grew up with Turks - young, old, and in-between. And I've been around more SOLDIERs than I can count. I'd be surprised if that isn't the problem.

And Buffy being Buffy, sixteen and trying so hard to be grown-up, she was probably far too embarrassed to mention it. Joyce winced.

That's if Cloud even remembers there's a problem, Rufus pointed out. I don't know how many holes the mako knocked in his memory. I do know there are a lot, given the variety of records Reeve's pried into on his behalf. And since Meteor, Strife's the next best thing to a nun. He doesn't exactly keep the kind of company that would have led him to find this problem the hard way.

Before tonight, Joyce thought. Wonderful. "Look. Angel. We really need to talk-"

"I'm sure we do, Ma'am. But I'm running a little short on night. Especially if I want to go to ground without being followed by… whatever's out there." His smile had used-car salesman written all over it. "Giles? I think I should go look up a few things on this Gaea that you might not have in your library. I'll get back to you."

Fast as a Turk, he was gone.

That did not sound good, Joyce thought.

No. But we don't know enough about him to take precautions. Yet.

"Angel-!" Buffy's fist thumped on the windowsill. "Why won't you listen… Giles, we've got to keep him from doing something stupid. He's hung up on this idea that materia might be evil, and then he tried to grab Tsurugi-"

"And somewhere in the middle of that, he tried to touch you?" Joyce said levelly.

Buffy's horrified silence was answer enough.

Joyce sighed, and turned to the two stares behind her; one confused, the taller one tinged with dawning, awful realization. I was right, Rufus crowed. Reeve has been deep into the SOLDIER files.

Good, Joyce thought reluctantly. If she won't listen to me, maybe she'll listen to him. And damn Hank for leaving her in the lurch like this. "Wash off what's bothering you, and we'll be up in a minute."

"Mom!"

Pure, teenage mortification, Rufus sighed. Definitely the problem, then. I'd guess Strife doesn't remember. I can recall to this day how red I was after Tseng… explained a few things. Sometimes it's pure hell to be blond.

She's going to be very angry with us, Joyce warned, heading back inside.

I've had Strife angry with me for months at a time. I lived. For once, his tone softened. And you know, if she hasn't had The Talk yet, it's better she gets it from the two of you. Tseng had a hell of a time cleaning up the damage after my unlamented father tried his version of explaining… well. Let's just say, Scarlet's lackeys aren't the best instructors in that sort of thing. Or the safest.

"Mrs. Summers?" Willow opened the girls' guestroom door warily, Magrod tucked into her borrowed bathrobe pocket. "What's up with Angel?"

"At a guess?" Joyce let herself smile thinly. "He doesn't smell like mako."

"What does-" Bright blue eyes went wide. "Oh…."

"Change of plans," Joyce said briskly. "You're bunking with Buffy."

"In case he comes back?" Willow didn't sound surprised by the idea. "Yeah, he is that stupid." She blushed. "I mean-"

"Well, of course he's an idiot, he's mooning after Buffy when I invited him for coffee." Leaning back against the bedpost, Cordelia kept brushing her hair. "But what does mako have to do with anything?"

"A little-known quirk that crops up in some people exposed," Joyce stated. But you don't have it?

Not so much that it's a problem. I definitely inherited the tendency for it, Rufus shrugged. Another light dose of mako… well, who knows?

And that doesn't bother you?

Why should it? Rufus seemed honestly puzzled. It's not like I was ever going to get the chance to marry out of pure affection. My wife would have to be financially, politically, and genetically sound. If she couldn't handle materia on a daily basis, I wouldn't have a chance of keeping her anyway.

"I'm on it," Willow nodded, gathering her gear with a few efficient grabs. "I'll just tell Buffy that Reno keeps thinking of nasty things to do to Cordelia."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's kind of true." Still blushing faintly, Willow headed down the hall toward Buffy's room.

"And with any luck, that fills our quota of disasters for the night," Joyce muttered, heading back downstairs to tuck coffee mugs into the dishwasher.

Jenny followed, Giles trailing reluctantly behind. "Mako?" she asked pointedly.

Joyce lifted a wry brow. "Did Tifa ever try to pounce Cloud when she hadn't been carrying materia? As in, within the previous 24 hours?"

"Well, what difference does that-" Jenny stopped, light olive complexion flushing pink.

Joyce tried not to smirk. "Wasn't interested, was he?"

"How did you…?"

Giles cleared his throat. "It's not broadcast to the general public. Still, among those who have dealt on a daily basis with high-level Turks and SOLDIERs Second Class or above… well, let us say one notes a certain tendency…."

A little repressed, I think? Rufus observed. Even Reeve's not that bad.

He's British, Joyce sighed.

Hmm. Maybe we'd better let Reno handle the Talk.

Not on your life! "Put it this way; magical affinity has an attraction all its own," Joyce said plainly. "I don't know why Tifa ended up with just a brush-off while Angel went out the window. Then again, if he did try to grab Tsurugi, I'm surprised Cloud let him off without broken bones. His family tends to be possessive about things they rely on to keep them alive." Like Turks.

Jenny looked between the two of them, and crossed her arms. "You know something about Cloud."

"Nothing that has any relevance to who he is today, or our current situation," Giles said firmly. "Jenny. When Cloud asked Reeve to investigate his past, he did so with the expectation of privacy. I will not breach that trust."

"Except with Reeve's boss?" Jenny gave him a look askance.

"Rufus is already familiar with the data in question. And I rather doubt he could be considered Reeve's boss, given Shinra charged Tuesti with various crimes up to and including corporate espionage," Giles pointed out.

"Point," Jenny chuckled. Put her hand over Giles', and squeezed lightly. "Just don't stay up too late plotting, all right? I've heard horror stories about your midnight to six research sessions. It's a lot harder to stake vampires when you're yawning."

Her footfalls faded up the stairs, and Joyce sighed. "Alone at last."

Giles tensed.

"Oh, don't do that. Honestly, you act like you think Rufus is going to strangle his only living sibling in his sleep. Not that he wasn't tempted, once or twice," Joyce added in an undertone.

Giles stared at her as if she'd just started conjuring flaming pumpkins. "You know?"

Not until now, Rufus smirked. Not for certain.

"Tseng helped him put some of the pieces together, but it was the only thing that made sense," Joyce stated. "Daddy Shinra would never have let his one and only son and heir grow up a Turk in all but name just to keep their loyalty. No matter how useful Turks are. His ego wouldn't have stood for it. The only reasonable explanation was that Rufus was expendable. Which meant his father had to have an alternative stashed somewhere. Someone he thought would be more pliable. Grateful, even; though why anybody would be grateful to be thrown in with the likes of Heidegger and Palmer…." Her fingernails were biting into her hands. Joyce unclenched them before they drew blood. "So. Since Rufus knew his parents hadn't spawned any other offspring, and knew his father thought monogamy was a good thing, as long as it was for other people… it'd be more surprising if there weren't a few bastards out there."

"Please don't use that word around Cloud."

The tone was polite, but Giles' eyes were steel. Rufus, Joyce started.

I see it. And you're right. This isn't worth the fight he's willing to give for it. Reeve's a far better ally than an enemy, and I have to say we need him a lot more than he currently needs us, Rufus acknowledged. If you think it'll help….

"Rufus says he'd rather be a bastard, too," Joyce said dryly.

"No, he wouldn't," Giles replied, just as dry. "Hojo may have been arrogant to the point of megalomania, but even he would have never dared mark Shinra's legitimate heir as an experimental subject."

Joyce felt Rufus actually flinch. "Hojo knew?"

"A gene sample is taken from every military inductee. Especially those applying to SOLDIER." Giles shook his head. "Apparently Rufus' heritage includes a gene complex often associated with a remarkable affinity for mako. The files Reeve found imply Hojo was rather… intrigued… by the thought of testing its limits. Once he found it in someone no one would miss…." He hesitated. "Of course, that was only an option so long as that someone remained an ordinary trooper. General Sephiroth was known to be very touchy about Hojo coming anywhere near his men."

"Strife failed the exam," Joyce said warily.

"Cloud's results were marked as failed, true."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so."

"Based on the available evidence? Reeve thinks it rather unlikely, yes. People who can't handle mako don't shatter themselves and build new identities, Joyce. They die. Or go completely catatonic, with no hope of rescue."

And Cloud hadn't done either. Not quite. What do you think?

I honestly don't know, Rufus admitted. Turks don't deal with that level of mako exposure. Outside of Valentine… but if he's on speaking terms with Tseng, I haven't heard about it.

And that doesn't bother you?

A sense of a shrug. Tseng works for me. But I'm not a Turk. I don't make the mistake of forgetting where his loyalty lies.

That's sad, Joyce told him. Everyone should have someone who's willing to put them first.

What? Like a "true love"? A sardonic snort. Love and power are mutually exclusive. Just ask Sephiroth.

I was thinking something a little more ambitious, Joyce dared. Like family.

Shock. Anger. Wry, sarcastic disbelief. Cloud despises me.

Buffy loves me. Get used to it. Joyce eyed the librarian narrowly. "I know that look." Well, technically Rufus did, but who cared? "That's the 'I see a problem but I don't have a solution yet' look. Were you and Reeve separated at birth?"

Giles gave her an indignant look, then sighed. "Sephiroth."

"That's a given. And?"

"Angel," Giles admitted. "He's been of help to us in the past, and he truly does care for Buffy. He has contacts that might have been a great deal of help in my research."

As in, you don't think they will be now. "You don't like how he left either."

"The vampire seeress I encountered before you collected me wanted 'her Spike' back," Giles said plainly. "That rather implies Spike was her sire; the vampire who converted her. And we know Angel was Spike's sire. It would not be unthinkable for the pair of them to form an alliance. Of course, since as a vampire she has no soul, she'd turn on Angel - and us - at the nearest convenient opportunity."

"But if Angel's got his head in enough knots about Buffy, he may not think that far ahead. Got it." Joyce raised an eyebrow. "What else?"

His shrug this time was almost embarrassed, bringing up echoes of Reeve quietly forcing himself to make a point at board meetings, even when he knew he'd be laughed down. "More of a concern than an actual problem… I know it does not appear so from tonight's chaos, but Ethan was a perfectionist. If he meant to unleash Final Fantasy's greatest villain, and spread that chaos wider with the heroes who rallied to stop him…."

Joyce's breath caught in her throat. "Then where are the rest of my Turks?"

Without thought, her hand dove for her PHS.