Title: Wishes and Prophecies (4/?)
Author: Lisse
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Sorcha and Ife are mine. Everyone else is Joss's.
Summary: An expansion of "The Wish", including some other characters
Catagory: C/D, B/R, B/A, some others.
Feedback: Hell, yeah!
Distribution: If you have permission, take the sucker. If not, just ask.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Shut up."

"And get that /thing/ out of my face."

"What did I just say?"

"Bloody Yank."

"Fang."

"Wanker."

The argument echoed up and down the otherwise deserted street, focusing the 
attention of the few people still outdoors on the three men walking steadily 
toward the old, abandoned mansion. Two of them - one in combat fatigues and 
one in a trench coat - were arguing. The third was looking rather put-upon.

"Look," Forrest Gates said for the third time that evening. "I don't want 
you here. Graham doesn't want you here. Most of us would as soon stake you 
as look at you, and if I decided take you sunbathing no one would object, 
alright?"

The other arguer opened his mouth for a good rebuttal, but Forrest was 
already on a roll. "We don't care about your girlfriend. The Master can give 
her a holy water bath for all I care. So if you ever want to get her back, 
I'd suggest you shut up and stop complaining."

"How about you /both/ shut up," Graham Miller added.

The other two ignored him and went right back to arguing.

Graham sighed. Six months ago, he wouldn't have dreamed that the core of 
their little group would be two witches and a vampire with a serious Billy 
Idol problem. That was before Amy Madison and Tara Larson had managed to 
save thirty men - all that remained of their original force - and lead them 
to the relative safety of the run-down mansion.

Six months ago, three hundred and twelve men had been the Initiative. Now, 
nineteen men, two witches, and a vampire were all that was left. Hell, it 
wasn't even the Initiative anymore. It was OSS - Operation Save Sunnydale or 
Operation Suicide Shit, depending on whom one asked. The entire thing was 
fubar, and both Graham and Forrest knew it.

The problem was, Maggie Walsh didn't.

She was obsessed. Really obsessed, as in half-sane. Amy was part of the 
problem, Graham knew; while Tara was quiet and generally low-key, Amy 
questioned things and got in the way. If she hadn't been vital to the 
survival of everyone in OSS, Graham knew that the young witch would be long 
dead, the victim of a convenient "accident".

He was glad that he was still around. He liked the young witch.

* * *

"...and that's it. That's my life." Cordelia sighed and looked around the 
library. "Sucks, huh?"

"I don't believe you," Nancy said flatly. "That's impossible."

Larry shrugged. "If it's right, she's the reason everyone's dead." Cordelia 
didn't like the sound of his voice - something between envy and hatred. That 
didn't sound like the grunting, hulking football player she knew.

Oz just had an impassive look, somehow more stony than usual. "Is it 
possible?" he asked quietly.

"It could be..." Giles started, but Doyle interrupted.

"I 'ate teh stop this sharin', but I'm guessin' the library isn' the safest 
place teh be." He looked around at the Watcherettes. "Do any o' yeh have a 
place where we can work this out?"

"And sleep?" Cordelia added. She had never been so tired in her life.

Giles nodded. "Um, yes. I...I suppose you could all spend the night at my 
apartment, although where I'm going to put you I couldn't say." He sighed 
and nodded to Nancy, who seemed to be the de facto Buffy. "Make sure we have 
weapons."

"Right." Nancy threw a look at Cordelia and headed into the weapons locker. 
After a moment, Larry followed her.

Cordelia looked over at the remaining three, not quite sure what to do. "I, 
uh, I can help somehow," she offered. "I can't go out for donuts like I 
usually do, but I can read books." She gestured to the piles of tomes and 
parchments. "Maybe we can find something there."

"Most of the important volumes are in my apartment," Giles explained. "We'll 
have to do all of our researching there."

"Great. Research in Giles' apartment. Just what I need." Cordelia sighed and 
looked down at her dress. "I don't suppose you have dresses in my size, do 
you?"

All three just looked at her.

"Guess not." She leaned back and and rubbed her temple. "God, this has been 
/the/ most horrible day in the world. What else could go wrong?"

"Well, if you don't want to be leaning on Doyle, that could be considered 
bad."

Cordelia felt her face burning as she jumped forward, reminding herself to 
either kill or thank Oz for pointing that out. "See what I mean? I get 
attacked, I almost get eaten, and now I'm using strangers as pillows!"

Doyle smiled slightly. "I'm not objectin'."

"/And/ he's hitting on me!" She threw her head back and gathered the 
tattered remains of her dignity, ignoring Doyle's hurt expression. He was 
reminding her of Xander at the moment, which was definitely a Bad Thing. 
"Right. Fine. What can we do now?"

"We get a move on," Nancy said as she hurried towards them, Larry a step 
behind. "Let's go. We've got to get out of here before Harris and his 
Wondertramp get back."

Cordelia grabbed a nearby book and tried to stick close to Giles and Doyle. 
The little group formed themselves into a cautious knot and headed out.

Not five minutes later, a very angry Xander Harris burst into the library. 
One look told him that his quarry was gone.

"Damn!" He glared at his fellow vampires, who had the sense to cower when he 
was in this mood. "Find lighters. I want this thing burned!"

Without waiting to see if his order would be obeyed - mostly because he knew 
that it would - he turned and stormed out of the library.

The library was ablaze before he left the building.

* * *

"It's called a van," the Professor's girlfriend explained patiently. "Learn 
to drive it."

Wesley heaved a put-upon sigh. "My car is fine."

"Your car is a piece of junk on wheels," Kate Lockley retorted, "and /you/ 
don't have an ounce of sense. That thing smells like that stupid aerosal 
repellant you sprayed after that Kungai last week. As soon as you get into 
Sunnydale, every single thing there will know there's a Watcher in town. 
Capeche?"

Wesley sighed again, this time in resignation. "Yes, dear."

"Ife and I will stay here," Kate continued. "We can keep an eye on the 
little kids." When Wesley started to protest, she just held up a hand. 
"Whistler's in town. He'll help me keep an eye on them. That reminds me." 
She held out a piece of paper. "He wanted you to find this guy."

Wesley looked down and read the name. Then he read the words under it.

"'The jewel of the sea and the dark stranger, the seraphim and the Irishman, 
the descendant of the first One born on the isles.' Kate, what is this?"

"Codex," Kate answered. "Whistler needs you to find those people."

"What? All of them?"

"And make sure you get the girls out alive."

Wesley shook his head. "I won't. At least one of them will die - possibly 
all three. I'm not sure if I can save any of them."

Kate snorted. "You're too stubborn to let any of them die." She glanced out 
the window, down into the street. "Are they ready?"

"As ready as they'll ever be."

"Then get going. You have to get to Sunnydale before sunrise."

"Right." He stopped. "What? Why?"

Kate just looked at him.

"Whistler's orders. Of course. Why not?" He gave his girlfriend a quick hug, 
threw his duffel over his shoulder, and headed out.

Kate smiled faintly. "Good luck," she muttered.

* * *

"'From the highest point of the mouth of hell thou shalt see thy savior.'" 
Sorcha Magee sighed and scooted further up the tower, glaring up at the sky 
all the while. "You people owe me," she muttered.

She stared down at the little group running out of the building, and then at 
the little group entering it from the other side.

The first person she saw was the savior.

"Oh, hell."

* * *