The Nyazian Prophecies

"So you dragged me all the way down here..." Kate Lockley crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in the hard wooden chair. Her expression was neutral, eyes locked on the man pacing in front of the desk. "You mind telling me why?"

"I thought we'd talk about you." The man stopped pacing and leaned against the edge of his desk. "You were a decorated homicide detective, the same as your father before you. You had a very promising career ahead of you with the LAPD."

Detective Cohen picked up a file from his desk, perusing it. "Your record took a sharp turn in September, 1999 when you began to associate with a local private investigator."

"After you began your association, the commendations disappear. And the reprimands are a mile long..." He closed the file. "With the grand finale your expulsion from the force."

Kate's expression turned to one of irritation. "I'm starting to think you don't have a point."

"Well, I'm only saying a file like yours doesn't usually have such a fascinating chapter two." He placed the file down on his desk. "Usually detectives in your position go onto the private sector. Security or investigations... You, on the other hand, were recruited by the government."

"Of course, my mistake." Detective Cohen cocked his head. "I'm sorry... I've forgotten what agency you're working for, Agent Lockley."

"Ah yes." Detective Cohen nodded. "There is quite a bit of secrecy in your current position, Agent Lockley... It is Agent, right? I don't even know your rank."

Kate's expression returned to one of utter neutrality. "Agent is fine. Are you going to tell me what I'm doing here, beside being forced to relive my career point-by-point?"

"The point is, I know more about you than most people," Detective Cohen replied. "Enough to be able to get you into my office. I also know you will be greatly interested in the case I'm working on."

"Since I've begun working at the LAPD, I've been looking over your old cases. Some fascinating reads." Cohen picked up a file. "I've of course taken many of my own. I had a case I thought you would appreciate more than anyone in this world or any other."

"About three years ago, the shoppers at a spotting good's store were held hostage by an unknown assailant. He wired the entire complex with explosive devices. Refused negotiations."

Kate closed the file, handing it back to Cohen. "I came all the way from Nevada for this meeting. Why does it concern me?"

"The assailant disappeared-- along with all of the evidence of the crime-- fifteen minutes after a second man entered the complex, knocking out several officers in the process." He held up a picture. "This has been identified as the man who entered."

Kate took in a deep breath, trying to maintain her calm appearance. "I haven't deal with Angel in years."

"The case was considered cold until eight months ago when, suddenly, the evidence reappeared." He leaned in. "And I mean reappeared. Inside a sealed box. Witnesses began coming forward. I have enough information to go to the DA and prosecute the bastard who did this."

"We've identified the suspect." Cohen smirked. "I thought you might find it interesting."

Connor head jolted up from the keyboard he was currently dozing on. His eyes were wide with shock. "I'm awake!"


Vincent Kartheiser	Anna Paquin	Bret Harrison	Kou Shibasaki	Allison Mack	and Tom Lenk

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Based on the Characters by Joss Whedon	Created by Emcee

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Special Guest Star

J. August Richards
Eliza Dushku

Guest Starring

Elizabeth Rohm
Scott Cohen
James Franco
Adam Brody

Written by

Emcee

Connor's head hung low as he strode out of the computer lab, bag slung over his shoulder. "I can't believe I got yelled at. I didn't think you got yelled at for sleeping in class in university."

"You do when you're drooling on the keyboard," Gord pointed out, walking alongside him. "I thought Professor Jones was going to take your head off!"

Gord pulled open the front door and stepped out. Connor followed after him. "Connor, you know you're my bud right?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "And buds tell each other stuff? And get to ask really weird questions?"

"Yeah, duh. I figured that out with my big, bad brain." Gord walked back over to Connor. "The question is why. Trying to hide your rampant Irishocity?"

"It's a long story," Connor sighed. He pushed away from Gord, striding ahead. "I really shouldn't get into it."

Gord trailed after him. "We're already into it. Come on! It's... Kind of weird. It sounds like you're becoming a magician or something."

"It's my birth name!" Connor cried, whirling back around to glare at Gord. "The Rileys were my foster parents, all right?"

Gord nodded slowly. "Out of curiosity... Your bio mom..." He grinned. "Stripper?"

Connor's glare turned yet more venomous. "You really want to get your ass kicked today?"

"Just teasing," Gord grinned. "Come on, was that so hard?" He readjusted the bag on his shoulder. "You wanna go grab some coffee or something?"

Connor shook his head. "Naw. I think I'm going to head home. Get some non-keyboard sleep before pa--" He cut himself off. "Going out with Sal."

"All right." Gord gave Connor a slap on the shoulder. "Catch you later." He backed up a few paces. "Oh, and tell Jamie and Drew to hold onto my order for me. I'll pick it up when we play D&D on Saturday." He pointed a finger. "You know, you really gotta come by some time."

"I know, I know." Gord waved his hand dismissively. "Plans with Salome. Don't you ever get tired of bumping in the night?"

"You know..." Matty closed the book and leaned over to Andrew. They were sitting in the storage room of Moon's Magical Supplies. There was an open pizza box between them, half the pie gone. "I just sell the stuff, I'm really not that good with spells and demons."

Andrew glanced up. "Well, you don't have to be really good. Just okay is fine..." He looked down, blushing profusely. "I've been driving everyone crazy researching these fissures. I thought it might help to have some... New eyes on it."

Matty grinned at Andrew. "My eyes are yours as well as anything else Superboy and Friends requires. I just thought I would give you a brief disclaimer."

"The former Primordial Demon-King of the Earth is freaked out..." Andrew's hands gripped the book tighter. "What does that tell you?" He picked up his can of Coke and took a swig.

"Well..." Matty shrugged and picked up a slice of pizza. "That I should really work on getting laid."

Andrew spat out of drink, right onto Matty. Matty grimaced and wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "Relax, Andrew... Wasn't talking about you..." He hesitated. "Well, not specifically."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about that," Andrew muttered, handing Matty a napkin.

"We're not talking about it," Matty pointed out. "I was just observing that if the world's going to end, it might be nice to have a happy before that." He wiped his face with the napkin Andrew had offered. "Why do you suppose it is I'm more comfortable discussing Armageddon then you are my sexuality?"

Matty shrugged. "Fair enough." He opened his book again. "So this Demon-King person... When you say that, you mean..."

Andrew looked down. "An ancient demon from the dawn of time that infected the body of a Texas physicist, liquefied her organs and now lives inside the shell created from her hardened flesh."

"Illyria's not really a person ... And I wouldn't say anyone's really 'friends' with her," Andrew pointed out. "But Salome does worship her as the god and creator of her species."

Andrew nodded. "She is. The Slayer's Council is tolerant of different religions. She's also Jewish."

"Honestly, I've never gotten it myself," Andrew admitted. "It has something to do with slaves back from when her people were major warlord badasses." He scratched his head. "I really don't get it. Nyazian history kind of gives me a headache."

"But she's good right?" Matty looked a bit worried. "I mean I'm not that keen on the idea of associating with baddies."

"Not that I don't like Connor!" Matty added quickly. "And I know he's totally gotten over that whole raging psychotic fathering evil Higher Powers thing. It's just..." He frowned when Andrew didn't look any more comfortable. "Okay, what's going on?"

Jamie threw the tennis ball against the wall of the store as he stared at the television in the corner that was playing Battlestar Galactica. He caught the ball distractedly when he heard someone come into the store.

Jamie snorted, throwing the tennis ball again, which ricocheted off of a comic book. He caught it once again. "As if you'd have the chance."

"I'll have you know I'm really, really funny." Gord jumped up onto the counter and began to watch the episode. "So how you doing, Jay?"

"All right," Jamie replied. "Just keeping an eye on things here until I got class."

Jamie shrugged. "I dunno. With magic store guy." He shrugged. "I don't really keep tabs on Andrew."

Jamie stopped caught his tennis ball and carefully placed it down on the counter next to Gord. "It's all right."

Gord nodded slowly. "Yeah, I bet it is." He leaned in. "There's a rumour going around you got shot."

Jamie looked worried for a moment before snorting derisively. "You mind explaining to me just how I, James David Black the Third, would get into a situation where I would get shot?"

Gord shrugged. "Dunno. Lots of stuff goes around about you and Connor. All holed up in that old sorority house."

Jamie leaned back in his chair. "What are you suggesting, Gordo? Mob connections? Drugs? DVD Piracy?"

"Dunno what I'm suggesting," Gord shrugged. "But you've got to admit... The stories about you guys are weird. Half the time, Connor, Salome and your girlfriend look like walking bruises. And you guys are always running off to do something..." He leaned in. "I even heard Salome and Mandy got into a fight last week, Salome cut Mandy's face and then..." He threw his hands out. "She was gone."

"They must have seen wrong," Jamie replied. He sat up. "Come on, Gord... Listen to yourself. You sound crazy."

"If you want to play it that way... All right..." He leaned in closer. "But I was talking to Connor today. About this whole name switch."

Jamie nodded. "Angel's a lame last name, huh? You can understand why he would drop it."

"The whole sitch is just weird," Gord insisted. "And maybe I don't know a lot about it... But it seems dangerous." He sighed, jumping off the counter. "So maybe you don't want to talk about it with me. I won't push for details. Just tell me one thing: How deep are you into it?"

Gord shrugged. "Well, if you can get out, I suggest you do. I get the feeling it's just going to keep getting worse."

Gord nodded, averting his gaze. "Yeah... You were holding a couple of things for me?"

Jamie went under the counter and pulled out a pile of DVDs and graphic novels, placing them next to the register. He began to put the prices into the register. "You could have come by on D&D night for that."

"And you wanted to talk to me alone without Andrew here," Jamie added. "I'm not stupid, Gord."

"I just want to make sure you're safe." Gord held out a handful of bills to Jamie. "We're friends."

"You're friends with Connor too," Jamie replied sadly. "I don't see you warning him to be careful."

"I'm not stupid either," Gord replied. "I know whatever's going on... He's right in the middle of it."

"Connor's my best friend, Gord." Jamie held out the bag of purchases. He shrugged slightly. "The closest thing I've got to family left. Whatever he's into, I'm into... All the way."

Connor stepped into the living room, toweling off his hair. His feet and chest were bare, clad only in a part of worn blue jeans. Salome was lying on the couch, reading the newspaper and idly stroking Jack's head as he dozed on her stomach. "Hey... Ace?" Salome looked up from the paper.

"Do you think I would fit in well in the wonderful world of telemarketing?" She stopped petting Jack and tapped the paper. "It says here there are fantastic opportunities for motivated young go-getters and you can work out of your home and make your own hours."

"Telemarketing?" Connor snorted and sat down on the couch, shifting Salome's feet so they rested on his lap. "You sure there's no Quortoth-demon-evil still in you?"

"It was just an idea!" Salome sat up and the cat jumped off of her, irritated that his sleep was disturbed. "I really need to get some money coming back in here. You guys are wicked understanding, but I don't want you to have to cover my share of the rent."

Connor rubbed Salome calf idly. "Lorne said he would hire you back once the club is rebuilt. He's not mad at you about what happened."

Connor looked away. "Okay, he's a little mad. But he'll get over it. Just promise not to destroy it again."

"Oh, shut up." Salome wrinkled her nose. "I would just really like to do something that I enjoy and doesn't interfere with my uncontrollable desire to stop the Annual Apocalypses that come through town."

"You'll find something," Connor assured her. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Andrew is still working on the Council to get you on the payroll. And once we stop the fissures from Hell devouring the world, I'm sure they'll be up for it." He paused. "That being said, any word on..."

Salome shook her head. "Not really." She shifted, curling her legs under herself. "There's a bit of news. The Council is about ninty-five percent sure Dawn wasn't kidnapped by an evil demon or wizard intent on using her Key Goodness to bring about the end of humanity."

"The bad news--" Salome's shoulders slumped. "Her trust fund was liquidated and Willow thinks she might have purchased a doctored passport off of Craigslist."

"So she's run off?" Connor sighed. "Probably freaked out by the whole blood thing."

"Jamie's at the store, Oni's still off on her info quest, Lorne's hired Mandy to help with the repairs, and Andrew is hanging out 'platonically'--" She did sarcastic air quotes, "--With Matty."

"Yeah really." Connor brushed his lips against Salome's. "So I am forced to wonder... Why is it we're still dressed?"

"This is a very good question," Salome replied. "One that should be explored in depth."

Connor wrapped his arms around Salome's waist, sweeping her up. She let out a shriek as he moved her to the floor.

Salome shifted again, lifting her back off the floor. "Still a little tender." She wrinkled her nose. "You know, I've gotten into two fights with gods in the past month."

"Oh, come on!" Salome gave him a little shove. "Your little encounter with Faye was hardly a fight."

"Well, I got into a fight with you while you were possessed by an entire hell dimension," Connor nuzzled her neck. "I should get points for that.... Okay." He shifted. "Where does it hurt? Here?" He licked her neck.

"Here?" Connor lifted her shirt and pressed a kiss on her torso, against the bandages that were still present there.

Connnor concentrated on that area, gently skimming his hands over it. "That better?"

Salome squirmed beneath him. She smiled mischievously. "Now it's hurting lower."

Just as he was about to descend lower, there was a knock at the door. Connor groaned, sitting up. He looked down at Salome. "Just... Stay like that. I'll be right back."

He stood up and grabbed a button-down plaid shirt from the back of the easy chair. He slipped it on and strode to the door, pulling it open. He frowned slightly at the pretty blonde woman on the other side. "Can I help you?"

"Department H." Connor stepped out of the way, gesturing for Kate to come in. "You work with Riley and Groo then?"

"What are you doing here?" Connor asked. "Is this about Dawn? Or is there something new from--"

"This is about you," Kate interrupted him, turning to face him. "You holding ten people hostage in a sporting good's store in Los Angeles."