What a wild ride. She couldn?t begin to express the thrill she was currently experiencing. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought the Gala would be so successful. From a loner at the hearth?s fire to this: She moved through the empty halls of the Plaza humming as she ran her fingertips along the walls, stopping to adjust a painting.

The caterers had just finished packing up and the building was eerily empty. Even JhaiNein had left to see a few of the more drunken participants home safely, wouldn?t do to have the publicity scandal of someone getting injured after the Gala.

A sound drew her attention upward.

?Luke?? She called, the bottle of champagne held in her fingers as she moved up the stairs to the mezzanine and the office floors. ?Is that you??

Her date had disappeared, but she couldn?t blame him, after all she?d been a lousy one herself. It was the only reason she?d hesitated in accepting his offer. Being the maestro of one of these things demanded her attention be everywhere but on him.

No one answered.

She was finally getting this whole dating thing and her conversation with Euriya had only furthered her comfort level. Luke?s flirtation with the always hot Quinn and her companion hadn?t even bothered her, after all, the entire point was to have fun. She giggled as she remembered some of the fun highlights of the night. The bidding wars had been astronomically hysterical.

Another sound startled her from her thoughts.

?Euriya?? But it couldn?t be Euriya, he?d gotten a phone call from a patient and had left in his usual distracted state. Besides he had Dusky waiting to finish their date at home. ?Tasha is that ye??

No answer had her laughing at herself and she lifted the champagne bottle, ?Looks like it?s ye and me babe.?

But then she heard it again...

?Lei?? Rufus had said Lei couldn?t make it because of business but maybe the girl had come back early, and then again maybe it was, ?Rufus??

Pausing at the top of the stairs she was distracted by the glittering perfection of the streets of RhyDin?s Marketplace visible through the vaulted windows of the Plaza. Her dimples deepened as she surveyed the foyer below. A sense of pride and accomplishment had her approaching a giddy state of silly glee.

The explosion of sound startled her but not as much as the blooming agony of pain that slammed into her chest and sent her spinning about. A gasp was all she could manage as she lost her footing in those gorgeous ice-pick heels, and the sickening sensation of vertigo assaulted her. She was falling, as her chest felt torn asunder by a ripping fire. It was the years of acrobatic training that had her instinctively tucking into a roll to protect herself from the fall. The pink flouncy skirt, petal soft and a wild riot of rustling as she ricocheted from one step to the next, tumbling end over end like a discarded doll tossed without thought down the stairwell.

She landed hard, sliding across the slick marbled floor of her beloved Plaza in a pool of pink skirts that were already splattered with scarlet tears. Breath was difficult. Her chest felt as if a great band had been wrapped about it and each time she sought to inhale, streaks of agony violated her consciousness and threatened to send her under as an escape from the trauma.

She tried to push herself upward, to unravel the tangle of limbs and skirts, her arms trembled with the command of her bewildered mind. She couldn?t seem to focus and was confused by the sticky warm fluid that was ruining the bodice of her gown. A childish thought whispered plaintively, ?Not my dress.? Her childlike enthusiasm for the pink confectionary horrified at the thought of its ruination.

As she fought to stay conscious she heard the determined click of high heels at the top of the stairs and then a phone dialed. The voice seemed vaguely familiar, ?Come on in. It?s done.?

Panic shot through the kittenish realtor as she registered that company was on its way and with it a clarity returned. Fighting the urge to whimper she worked the heels off her small feet and scrambled backwards across the marble floor. She couldn?t get her left arm to respond and it hung damaged and throbbing against her side. The torment any movement caused ignored as she pressed her right hand into the hole that pulsed her blood in rhythm with her frantic heartbeat.

Pushing up to her feet she almost collapsed as a wave of disorientating nausea struck, hissing in a breath she prayed wasn?t overheard as she fled on white stocking-clad feet. Like a rabbit looking for its burrow she sought a place to hide.

Steps were wraith-like as he moved down the dead center of the long corridor, eyes keenly observant of all the offices that he passed. He was prowling, slender lines of masculinity moving in fluid motion, propelling him swiftly along with little hint of effort. In each hand rode a weapon of mercy, narrow-barreled pistols housing dollops of hot liberation.

Lei Shen.

That was her name. The hunter who occupied one of the rooms in the Plaza.

She was a hunter...

...she was his prey.

At the small of his back is where the dagger was housed, the edged instrument vital in some of his most satisfying kills. She would be another. When the details of the mission came down he remembered seeing her name, seeing that she was a Slayer, and deciding right then that she would be his responsibility.

Her office was empty. He hoped she would be there, wanted her there, so that she could come to the rescue of Fiora and find him waiting there for her.

Sound emerged, a random sound of significance, and he followed it upon those soundless steps.

He drew the door slowly open and peered inside the storage closet, though was disappointed to find only the form of the Slayer's mentor, Rufus, perched against the wall and sleeping heavily thanks to the champagne from the Gala. Eurus played out the events in his mind, able to see the man coming into his room and sitting down against the wall to rest for a minute...passing out just seconds later.

Fingers closed around the hilt of the gun in his right hand, all save for one - the index finger. It unfurled to ride the trigger, even as the barrel inclined and leveled upon the slumbering Rufus. How easy it would have been to end him right there. To squeeze that careened trigger and splatter his head against the wall. So easy.

Too easy.

This slayer deserved more than that. She was a hunter, like him, and would not be bestowed the gift of vengeance. He wanted her as she was, no allocations.

He drew the door closed, locking it, barring it from the outside with simple instruments. He coated the edges of the door with a salve and headed away, knowing that as time passed the compound would solidify to a near concrete hardness, making it virtually impossible to open the door without tearing out its center and climbing through.

He moved away, still searching...

...Still Hunting.

Spurs weren't jangling that night. He walked with a purpose, staying clear of the lamp light, bathing in the darkness. He'd been a lot of things over the last few days, but that was all over. He was the Reaper, and it was time to collect. He kept out of sight as he moved through the streets closing in on the house they had picked up to be the cotton field.

Cotton field being where you pick the goods from.

What he wasn't expecting was the sensuous beauty he found pacing down the street with a quickened stride, face pink beneath the veil of her hat from the wind chill and eyes twinkling with hope. Tasha was a sight, all lush curves and provocative movement, even when she wasn't trying. That gown was a masterpiece, and the ample beauty held within it was exquisite.

He felt something, a small nick in his soul as he fought the urge to step from the darkness and reveal that he was there. The thought of her - of them - consumed him and he couldn't seem to shake it. He sucked in a breath and forced himself to refocus, tearing his eyes from her with an agonizing jerk of his head. He had to get this job done. The quicker he got it done, the quicker he could get back to her.

Tasha.

He waited inside the house, waited in a wingback chair positioned facing the door so that when it was opened he'd be the first thing seen. Jaisan was taking forever, or maybe it just seemed like it. He couldn't stop thinking about getting back to the Inn, and that made seconds tick by with painful slowness.

Then the lights came.

The quick shift of yellow illumination through the thin blinds proved to be a car swinging into the drive. Doors opened a voice was heard, a slurred voice, and then doors closed again. He was singing, and while Boreas heard no other voice it was obvious that he was with another.

Keys jingled and were dropped, and moments later the knob turned and the door was pushed open.

On the porch is where Jaisan stood, arms lazily curled around the tallest drink of c***-sucker Boreas could recall seeing around those parts. She was the designated driver for the Gala event, which meant that she got to see all the sh*t-faced party goers safely home. The gold sheath she wore hugged her feminine curves tightly, not leaving much to the imagination save for hair color, or hair at all. "Evenin'." He snarled.

Jaisan's eyes went large, and he pointed. "Oh my god!" He screamed, still slurring his voice. "Burglar!"

JhaiNein narrowed her eyes, unamused by the inebriated windbag she was dragging through the door, and even less so by the large ruffian sitting just inside. "If you are not a resident of this homestead I recommend you leave before I am forced to become aggressive. " Her monotone response was sharp. "I've had a bad night."

"It's only gonna get worse, darlin'." Boreas said as he pushed himself out of that chair and rose to his full height, fist finding palm to crack knuckles loudly. "Come'ere. I got a secret for you."

"I am not interested in your surreptitious insights and will now remove you from the premises. Don't say I didn't warn you." She dropped Jaisan off to the side like a sack. "Stay here." She instructed as she moved toward Boreas, her longs legs constrained by that sheath of a gown.

Boreas smirked, a snarling chuckle emitted. "I'm just achin' ta see this."

Her steps were strong and decisive as she crossed the distance to where she stood, and it wasn't until halfway there that she realized her strength was fading. Her eyes, normally lifeless shells of milky white and color, widened a bit...not with fear, but with uncomputed surprise. She couldn't explain why she was weakening.

Boreas saw that look and drew from his deep pocket a crinkled pack of smokes. "Ah, yer wonderin' what's going on? Well let me explain." He flung a bent cigarette into his mouth and used the Zippo he snagged from his other pocket to light it. The tip flared to life and a billow of smoke soon followed. "One half of you is shutting down because of the looping EMP that is coming from the device I have stuck to the bottom of my chair. The other half, the magic half, is actually being drained by that crystal ball you walked by on your way in." He flicked a gaze over her shoulder. "I can't blame you for not seeing it. You were just trying to do what's right."

She stumbled a step and fell to her knees, reaching out to grab anything to keep her upright and finding the length of his duster. She desperately closed her fists around the coat as she looked up, emotionless incomprehension swirling in her eyes. She couldn't calculate what was happening or how to reverse the effects.

With his cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth he took her roughly by the chin with his left hand and lifted her face away from where it started to cradle against his ridged stomach. His black eyes narrowed as he hissed at her. "Yer the reason I'm makin' my lady friend wait, right now. So you'll excuse me if I ain't usin' my manners."

The right hand lashed out and slammed his hammer-like fist against her face, driving through the punch with a fervor that spun her around and spilled her across the room with a sickening thunk. Had she been human, the snap of the head would have broken the neck.

Boreas grumbled, the thought of rolling her over and beating her to mangled mess deterred by Jaisan's assessment.

"Unnecessary, but dramatically frightening to consider." No longer playing the role of the lush, he was upright, strong, and rather decisive.

Boreas sucked down a drag and pushed the exhale out his nostrils. "Bag her up. We're outta here."

Oh, this wasn't good. Rufus came to slowly, wondering in the befuzzled reaches of his brain why he was aching so much. He seemed to be upright, all but his head, and unfortunately his cheek appeared to be stuck to whatever it was resting on. Prying his eyes open was a task in itself, and it took a moment or two to focus his gaze and look around him.

"Oh dear gods ..." He groaned as firecrackers went off inside his head, closing his eyes in the hopes that it would all just go away. It didn't. Whatever devilish little fiend had taken up residence inside his head wasn't taking no for an answer. His mouth felt furry and dry. Why was that? Oh ...

"The champagne."

With another groan, he forced his eyes open and his head upright, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he grimaced in pain.

"Never again," he promised himself, staggering to his feet and swaying as the firecrackers were joined by the entire percussion section of the London Philharmonic being played out of time and out of tune. Leaning heavily on the counter he had been slumped against, he somehow managed to get to the cupboard, pulling it open and fumbling for the aspirin. Swallowing two dry, he grimaced again and stood upright, glowering around himself.

He was at the Plaza, in his own little storage room/bedroom. Okay, that was a good thing. He hadn't passed out at the Ballroom. Wondering vaguely what the time was, he moved to change his clothes, promising himself a shower when his body deigned to co-operate with him once again. His hand rubbed over his unshaven jaw as he reached out to pull the door open. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh, for goodness' sake ..." Grumbling, Rufus laid both hands on the handle and pulled with all his strength. The door still would not budge. the handle, on the other hand, came off in his grasp, and he flew backwards in a sprawl of limbs and curse words to land heavily on the camp bed, which folded up around him.

"Bloody bollocking sh*t-bags and the creator of evil cummerbunds!"

Roaring furiously, Rufus fought his way out of the campbed and back to the door, pounding on it with his fists. If this was some joke of Lei's, he was going to kill her when he got out. After he'd sobered up, of course.

"Lei! Shen Lei, you let me out of here right now, or so help me, I'll spike your coffee with laxatives until kingdom come!"

No answer. More infuriated pounding on the door, and now his eyes were taking in details, Rufus noticed that some sort of sealant was visible around the doorframe. He frowned, peering closer, and tested it with a finger. Not soft, not even slightly pliable. Hard as a rock, in fact.

"Buggeration," he swore, and turned, casting about the room until he found what he was looking for. From a chest that had originally been at the end of the bed, he found an axe, and hefted it towards the door. His muscles screamed at him - he really wasn't a physical type of person. The axe bounced off the door without even making a dent.

This wasn't Lei's idea of a joke. And it couldn't be the afternoon yet, or she would have been by to break him out, he was certain of it. Which meant he was stuck here, in desperate need of a toilet.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Well, I woke up Sunday morning,
with no way to hold my head that didn?t hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn?t bad,
so I had one more for dessert.


I stared at the radio, and just shook my head, and winced with the pain of that lump. I?d just dropped Victoria back at her place after a day of laughs after she patched me up, a hot kiss, and my turning into Rhys, by stickin? my damn foot in my mouth too often.

Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes,
and found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair,
stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.


Seein? as Bandito likes to ride, I brought him with me. I figured he would make talking to Fiora a success as she?d agree with whatever I said, while loving on that boy?s flat, wide, head. I reached over and scratched his ear that was closest to me, and smiled.

?Ladies man,? I said, and he just stared at me with those yellow gold eyes.

I smoked my mind the night before,
with cigarettes and songs that I?d been pickin?.
But I lit my first and watched a small boy,
look at a can that he?d been kickin?.

I crossed the empty street,
Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin? chicken?.
And it took me back to somethin?,
that I?d lost somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I?m wishin? Lord, that I was stoned.
?Cause there?s something in a Sunday,
that makes a body feel alone.
And there?s nothin? short of dyin?
half as lonesome as a sound,
of a sleepin? city sidewalk.
Sunday mornin? comin? down.



I parked the Firebird in my usual spot and held the door for Bandito to jump out into the gray and black street side snow. ?You know that receptionist hates it when you track your wet paws across the marble.? I said, watching my companion, only to have him look up at me, his eyes squinted in almost a question. ?You are right, they all love you, except her.?

I swiped my key and found myself holding another door for Bandito, and watched as he pranced past, wet feet and all.

?Hey JhaNein, I?ll be back down to clean this..? I looked up and the woman wasn?t at her post. She was always there, every time I ever came into the building, unless she was helping Fiora move something.

?Fi?? I called out, and started for the elevator, but stopped when I noticed something. The bell chimed as the elevator doors opened, but I was already walking toward the reception desk, and a dark streak against the dark wood was holding my attention.

Slowly my fingers were moving toward the streak, spreading slowly and cautiously.

?WOOF!? Bandito barked and I jumped, drawing the Colt and spinning around, checking with eyes and gun.

?What the hell, man?? I scolded him, but noticed he was sniffing the floor, all around and away from the desk, moving toward the hall. ?Bandito, c?mon. You are tracking the place up.? I knew I?d catch hell from the receptionist.

I turned my attention back to the streak and touched it, only to find my fear confirmed, dried blood, flaked russet across my fingertips. My honed skills took over, quickly thinking through the night prior, of anyone injured, or fights, and coming up blank.

Another bark from my dog who was farther down the hall, leading toward the vault. ?Seriously man, Come on!? I whistled, only to hear him whining and yelping. I pushed up from the floor, making my way to where I saw him disappear, my mood soured.

If someone was hurting my dog again, I better find a damn good lawyer, ?cause I?m just going to ****in' shoot them.





((Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down Lyrics, Kris Kristofferson.))

The reception area was empty. That was new. Lei hadn't been here long, but it had been long enough to know that JhaNein was never not at her desk. The golem woman was almost severe enough to intimidate her, except that Lei knew she could probably kick the babe's ass if she really had to.

The building felt ... strange, too. Pausing in the hallway, Lei frowned to herself. Every sense was on high alert. Something had happened - something bad. Something that she might have been able to prevent if she'd been here when it went down. She bent, removing the ever present wooden stake from her boot where it lived in perpetual anticipation of a fight, and began to search the offices.

Room after room revealed nothing. No signs of a struggle, no bodies, no evidence at all that there was anything wrong. But Lei just couldn't put it out of her mind that something was very badly wrong here. She'd learned to trust her instincts over the years, trained hard by Rufus, and those instincts were rarely wrong. Even if she didn't know how to act on them in safe situations.

A familiar voice caught her ears as she advanced warily down the hall toward the office where Rufus now lived. Pausing again, she strained her ears to hear what was going on, not wanting to leap in on anything she wasn't equipped to deal with.

" ... help me? I need you to help me open the door." Muffled certainly, but Lei would know that voice anywhere. Rufus' voice was ingrained into her subcranium. So he was stuck somewhere ... but who was he talking to?

"Of course." There was a dull thunk, which Lei extrapolated to be the owner of that smooth, calm voice trying to yank the apparently unmoving door open. "Seems like there is something holding the door closed. A...gunk, of sorts."

She crept closer to the doorway, peering in to make sure what she was hearing was actually what was going on. Her gaze took in the refined form of Doctor Euriya Shilo from upstairs, tugging on the doorhandle to the storage room with all his might. The door was not moving.

Sliding the stake into the back of her jeans, she sauntered in casually, offering a smile to the shrink.

"Mind if I help with that?"

From inside the storage room, she heard something that could have been Rufus swearing in alarm, and the stumbling crash which she hoped was him moving away from the door. With a gentle push, she moved Euriya from the doorway.

"Might wanna step aside a moment, doc. Rufus? You outta the way in there?"

An affirmative groan came from the other side of the door. Rolling her eyes, Lei heaved back and planted her foot against the hinges of the door as hard as she possibly could. Once, twice ... then again on the lower hinge, twice once more.

With a loud and ominous crack, the door swung inward awkwardly. Whatever glue had been put around the edge was holding fast, which meant that only a thin crack of the storage room could be seen between the doorframe and the now badly mutilated door. Casting around for something to hit it with, Lei grabbed the fir extinguisher and totalled the door in a matter of seconds.

"Now," she said, not even out of breath as Rufus emerged shakily from the room. She looked at the pair of them accusingly. "What the hell is going on?"

" ... and what is that smell?" Lei's nose wrinkled as Rufus dragged himself out of the wreckage of his bedroom.

Gathering together as much dignity as he could, the Watcher straightened his shoulders, flicking an invisible piece of lint off his shirt front.

"There are no toilet facilities in that room," he explained as calmly as he could manage. "I had to make do with what I had."

As he turned to thank Euriya for his timely discovery of the locked and sealed door, Lei peered in through the doorway and let out a disgusted snort of laughter.

"A coffee mug?"

Clearing his throat, Rufus endeavoured to ignore his Slayer, keeping his attention fixed on Euriya. A brief look about the office had already told him what he needed to know. Whoever had sealed him in had done just that and nothing else. There was nothing missing.

"Doctor Shilo, I don't believe we've met," he offered his hand to the other gentleman. "I am Rufus Bennett, and this charming bundle of blunt good humour is Shen Lei."

"Just Lei, it confuses -" The young woman stopped suddenly, frowning as she looked about. There was something, some sound just on the edge of hearing. "Oh god ..."

She took off at high speed, skidding out through the door and accelerating down the hallway. Despite his hungover state, Rufus paused just long enough to grab the nearest weapon - an axe he'd been sharpening before the Gala - and ran after her, gesturing for Euriya to follow as best he could.

Lei was already out of sight. Rufus, however, blessed her love of heeled boots. They clacked loudly enough on the floor to give a trail for the men to follow. But following a trail wasn't necessary after a moment or two. Rufus knew where they were going.

"Bloody hell," he puffed, out of breath and worried, "what's happened at the Vault?"