Title: And A Blonde Shall Lead Them Author: kindred Disclaimer: The characters from BtVS and AtS are the property of Joss Whedon. Rating: PG-13 Summary: A mysterious entity shakes things up at Wolfram and Hart, fashionable anarchy ensues. Oh, and don't judge a hero by her choice in footwear. 21. One of the disadvantages to being an eternally young and hot female CEO was the noticeable lack of peers. The male department heads did their best to socialize with Harmony but their level of conversation never wandered too far beyond the surface. Harmony wasn't a proponent of the sports metaphor school of conversation which all of the guys seemed to be so well versed in, including Lorne. Given her disposition, Harmony sorely missed the daily dish with her own estrogen laden posse. Consequently, as the highest ranking female in the Wolfram and Hart fold other than the CEO, Fred Burkle assumed the mantle of posse and best gal pal to the big boss. They met for lunch twice a week and quickly formed a tight bond, discovering a mutual interest in the song stylings of Duran Duran, the films of John Hughes and the creative expression of the bedazzler. During a casual scan of the movie listings in the paper, Harmony discovered an eighties night double bill that caught her attention. "Sixteen Candles" and "The Breakfast Club" were scheduled for a midnight screening at the local Bijou. Who could resist? It was the perfect antidote to the pressure cooker of the office: Molly Ringwald's reluctant pout and the dueling swaggers of Judd Nelson and Jon Cryer. Pure unadulterated star power always made the hairs tingle on the back of Harmony's neck. With a squeak of delight she left her office and pointed her sling backs in the direction of the science department. Excitement like this had to be shared immediately. Harmony breezed through the outer swinging doors whistling a happy tune only to find the laboratory empty but for an enormous stone sarcophagus. "Yoo hoo, Fred!" Harmony called out as she scanned the vacant adjoining offices. No one seemed to be about. That was odd. Usually Knox was around, attached to a beaker or a stool or fondling his Bunsen burner with feverish Tlan. Just as Harmony began to ponder the merits of writing a note for Fred versus waiting a few minutes for someone to return, the huge stone sarcophagus seized her attention. It looked exactly like the item she'd successfully bid for on eBay, only far more majestic in person, but why would it be delivered to the science lab of all places? It was huge and perfect, roughly polished by uncounted windswept centuries and exactly what she'd been looking for in a coffee table. As she approached, the spectacular jewel lodged in the center of the stone surface twinkled an enticing invitation to ogle. Digital photography did not do justice to its ethereal and magnetic glow. "Ooh, pretty!" Harmony sidled up to the object, pressing her palms on the stone surface to inspect the mesmerizing reflection of light from the gem. She needed to get this installed in her office immediately. Hamilton wouldn't be able to control himself once he saw her draped erotically across the forbidding stone surface. Finding a matching pillow was going to be her next priority because that gem, as flawless and undeniably sexy as it was, looked really pointy. Faint voices drifted from down the hall. Someone was approaching. Just as Fred and Knox pushed through the adjacent door, the lid of the sarcophagus shifted abruptly and a gush of dust spewed out directly into Harmony's face and chest. She immediately scrunched up her nose in protest. Fred and Knox caught this development simultaneously, although their reactions were pointedly different. "Harmony, be careful!" Fred expressed concern. The laboratory was filled with substances dangerous to a vampire and this new arrival hadn't been properly evaluated yet. Knox's eyes flew open with alarm. "What have you done?" he snapped, with a vehemence Fred had not thought him capable of. "Hey guys," Harmony waved a friendly hello. "There's been a little mix up in deliveries, I see. This item should have gone directly to my office." "Don't move, Harmony," Fred grabbed a hand held device and started pressing buttons, testing the air for suspect particles. Harmony twitched her nose and became faintly aware of a fullness spreading within her body. "I never thought furniture could fart at you. Do you think I should take it personally?" "It wasn't meant for you," Knox stood frozen in place, shocked by what had occurred. He hadn't figured on Harmony. What was she doing there? She hardly ever came down to the lab. After all his meticulous preparation and effort and with completion tantalizingly close, victory drifted away from his fingertips. The vein in his forehead began to swell. Harmony assessed a strip of primordial dust that dulled the sequined design on her bosom. "All I need is a little up close and personal with the shop vac. Don't worry, it's just a little dust. I don't think it's going to stain." "You have no idea what you've done." Knox's voice dried to an eerie wisp. "It was foretold before the beginning..." Fred glanced at Knox. He looked pale and sweaty and ready to vomit. "I'd appreciate a little help here, Knox." She spoke authoritatively. "What do you think? A full body decontam--" Before Fred could complete her thought, Knox moved to his work station. He opened a drawer, reached in and flew at Harmony with a long, elaborately decorated dagger. "It won't work with a vampire!" He raged in red faced fury. "The vessel must be worthy!" With a flick of her wrist Harmony disarmed him and brought him squalling and wriggling, flat against the stony surface of the sarcophagus She held him immobilized by the throat. "Excuse me? Have you even bothered to read the amendments in the employee manual?" Harmony released a condescending sigh. Weren't these people supposed to be professionals? "Threatening me, the CEO, with anything sharp and pointy is a big no-no. You know, Fred, a so-called brainiac like this weasel should know that." "I can't think what's come over him, Harmony." "You've ruined it! You've ruined everything!" Knox croaked and began thrashing wildly. "Stop wriggling, you little cockroach!" Harmony ordered. "As much as I'd love to snap your pencil neck, I just got this manicure today and Philomena gets cranky about redoing her masterpieces." At that moment, Wesley walked through the door eager to speak to Fred. Within seconds his pleasant smile evaporated. "What's going on here?" That was the question Fred was trying to answer as well. "This thing opened up, some kind of dust whooshed out at Harmony and then Knox decided to freak out." "He tried to skewer me with a really sexy knife," Harmony added with a nod. "It's over there." "This vessel emitted some kind of substance?" Wesley frowned and looked suspiciously at the sarcophagus. "I've taken air samples, Wesley," Fred held up her electronic device to confirm the read out. "There's nothing here but ordinary office dust." "NO!" Knox wailed as he struggled. "That's not possible!" His voice flew to shrill heights. "Down boy," Harmony scolded and pressed him firmly to the stone surface. "I made the offerings, I kept the faith, I followed the signs..." Tears of anguish rolled from his eyes. Wesley stooped over and gingerly picked up the knife Knox threatened Harmony with. "This is a high priest's ritual blade, similar to ancient Mesopotamian relics." He couldn't begin to imagine where Knox would have acquired such a rare and priceless object. In response to Wesley's puzzled expression, Knox began to giggle. It was not a pleasant sound. "Harmony," Wesley advised with steely calm, "I believe you should release Knox. We need to determine what he has attacked you with and ascertain the reason why." Harmony shrugged and let Knox go. He slithered to the floor in a breathless heap. "Well?" Fred didn't like being played for a fool. Obviously her just completed departmental performance evaluations were missing a few necessary footnotes. "Knox? Answer me!" "Fools!" Knox hissed once he regained his breath. "How dare you presume to interfere with destiny." Wesley recognized the blueprint of maniacal rhetoric immediately and challenged Knox. "How is it destiny to attack Harmony?" The cackling response made the hair on Fred's neck stand on end. "Harmony?" Knox raved. "You think this is about Harmony? I wouldn't waste my time on something so inept." "Hey, bucko!" Harmony's eyes flared dangerously. "I'll have you know that I have more ept in my little finger than you have in your whole body!" Knox did not acknowledge Harmony's retort. His eyes glazed over with a glacial calm. "She's not even a speck on the horizon compared to it." That brief slip caught Wesley's attention. "It? What exactly is 'it', Knox?" Realizing his slip, Knox swept his gaze across the room to the exit and escape. In a burst of momentum he erupted from the floor like a gangly rocket. Wesley anticipated this move and blocked Knox's path. The two men collided, limbs flying amid crashing lab equipment. Suddenly a sharp cry of pain caught everyone's attention. The men stopped scuffling and stared at Harmony. Knox pushed off Wesley's grip and stood motionless but expectant, awaiting what was to come. "You're meddling has failed. The Destroyer will not be stopped!" Manic glee flashed in Knox's glassy stare. "Come forward, Great One," he angled his palms in practiced supplication. "I have made the preparations. The world is yo--" "Be quiet!" Fred snapped. How could she have totally missed this side of his personality? Knox was never her prime dating target, not with Wesley in the picture, but they had shared flavored coffees and she enjoyed his sardonic sense of humor. Who knew that just underneath his seemingly benevolent and charming fatade was this babbling zealot? Fred thought herself a better judge of human nature than that. Abruptly, Fred turned her attention to Harmony who displayed the first signs of distress. "What's wrong, Harmony?" Harmony rubbed her stomach and frowned. Her old Strawberry Shortcake hot water bottle doll would have been a welcome balm at this point. She hadn't felt queasy in ages. "I feel a tickle," she admitted. "A bad tickle." In an instant her face folded in agony and she fell to all fours. "YES! YOU WILL TASTE THE WRATH OF SHE WHO MUST BE OBEYED--" "Shut up!" Fred screeched at Knox. Her pleasant expression evaporated into a dangerous scowl. She wanted to slap him. His overwrought commentary was really beginning to grate on her nerves. Unfortunately, Knox and his glassy-eyed mania were beyond the reach of more civilized scientists. "ALL WILL BE DEVOURED! SO IT WAS WRITTEN, SO IT SHALL BE D--unnh." A sharp thud sounded and Knox fell unconscious to the floor. With a sigh of accomplishment Wesley set down the "Big Book of Beaker Maintenance". For once he was glad of the verbosity of academia. The book made for a handy and fully functional weapon. "Good work, Wesley," Fred smiled up at him from Harmony's side. Wesley quickly knelt down beside her. "I couldn't stand another word from that annoying twit. Please tell me I've never come across like that." "Don't worry, you're much cuter when you're out of control," Fred's dimples deepened in response. For the longest time Wesley stared, mesmerized by the dazzling sheen of Fred's symmetrical incisors. It was a dizzying sensation any red blooded man would gladly drown in but Fred wasn't smiling for just anyone. Her favor was for Wesley alone and he felt it down to his toes. At last it was Wesley's turn for happiness. Fred was the perfect woman for him--no, she was the perfect woman, period--calm in an emergency, fathomless in her intellectual capacity and those dimples, they-- "AUGGHHH!" Their brief moment of togetherness was interrupted when Harmony slapped the floor with her palm and grunted her accelerating discomfort. This soon became an unearthly retching sound while her spine arched and bowed in painful spasms. "What did Knox say about a destroyer?" Fred gripped Wesley's arm in response to the horrible sounds that echoed from Harmony's throat. Something was happening; they couldn't be certain exactly what but something was overtaking Harmony at an alarming rate. Wesley's mind blanked momentarily with blind panic. Helplessness was not a feeling he handled well. As a reflex, he reached for Fred's hand and stared silently at what was happening to Harmony. As if synchronized, Fred and Wesley looked at each other and spoke as one. "Contagion protocol!" Fred leapt to the wall and slammed her hand against a red button. The laboratory exits sealed off immediately to contain whatever potential threat existed within the laboratory and within Harmony. Harmony heaved and hacked on the floor. Her face morphed uncontrollably while she continued to retch at a frightening volume. Soon help appeared on the other side of the door. Wesley strode over to see Gunn through the window. Angel arrived within seconds. "Wesley, what's going on?" "Charles, Harmony has been attacked. She appears to have ingested something." "Is she ambulatory? Let's transfer her to the medical wing." "I'm ready to go in," Angel spoke with conviction, his stare a blatant challenge to both Gunn and Wesley. His first obligation was to Harmony and her safety and he couldn't do anything when locked out of the crisis. "Harmony needs me." "Hold up, Angel," Wesley spoke decisively. "We need to discover exactly what we're dealing with here." The dynamics of the men bristled with urgency, each of them wanting to solve the dilemma and alleviate Harmony's suffering. As the security detail arrived Gunn began issuing orders. Being in control of something was a small consolation. Soon the assembled team stood at the ready in their puffy decontamination suits. Wesley turned his head and moved beyond the sight line of the window. Gunn pressed the intercom again. "Talk to me, Wes." "Dear God," Wesley's voice crackled through the small speaker. Angel and Gunn pressed forward, elbowing each other in an effort to find the best angle to see what was happening. Manly cheeks met the hard surface of the window but to no avail. Waiting at the periphery of the action was irritating on its own but with the added encumbrance of uncooperative sight lines, the best view they could get was a glimpse of the occasional elbow and the swell of Fred's lab coat. Tense seconds stretched into the dizzying unknown. Finally, the anguished silence was broken. Fred's strained voice squeaked through the tin box. "Oh crap." tbc...