The easiest way to get into trouble is to act upon something you have no knowledge of. Ignorance isn’t always bliss, sometimes it’s a means to cause great difficulty. Some have been known to argue a point when they have no idea about the topic at hand. Others have been known to react to an issue they don’t have all the facts on. Either way it can cause more problems that it solves.

Then again, there are always those who get into trouble by not doing anything at all. They allow life to move past them and choose to react instead of acting. But these fools can never match those who go in search for trouble. It’s one thing to step in shit, another to let shit hit you in the face and another thing altogether to go looking for shit. Sometimes it will hit you in the face.

****

Brian sat in his chair and listened to Michael’s rant. He wanted to just leave but, somehow, his body wasn’t moving. The Prince had always ignored Michael’s feelings for Justin, but today he felt the need to listen. There would be no more illusions on his part, or so he told himself.

“I’m so glad,” Michael continued. “It’s like he was bringing you down or something…”

Brian closed his eyes and let his best friend’s words seep in. If Michael had ever hid his dislike for Justin, he was no longer doing it. In the words of his oldest friend, Justin was a silly kid who never cared about anything but himself. What Michael seemed to forget was that though Justin had left the Clan, he was still carrying Brian’s unborn child.

“You’re better off without the little fucker,” Michael huffed. “You can move on with your life now that Boy Wonder has tipped toed the fuck out of here.”

Brian turned to Michael with a growl, but stopped when Isis entered the room. He sneered at his childe, but only could roll his eyes when it seemed as if Michael didn’t understand why his Sire was so upset. It was something Isis noticed the moment she entered the room.

“Keep your bloody tongue in your mouth, boy,” Isis snapped, approaching the pair. She sneered at Michael and pointed a finger at him, “I’ll not remind you again to behave, childe.”

“I was just talking to my Sire.”

“Don’t dare talk back to me!”

Brian tuned his mentor and his childe out and left the conference room, heading to his loft. There he found his father sitting, reading. He had intended to find a trick to appease his sexual appetite, but opted instead to pick up a book and read next to his father. He hadn’t finished a paragraph before one sensation hit him and he felt the presence of another.

Turning to his father, Brian asked, “Do you feel that?”

“I was wondering when you would sense it,” Ulugh replied, putting down his book and looking at his son. “I’ve felt it for quite some time.”

“What is it?”

“That, my childe, is something you must discern for yourself.”

“I’ve never felt anything like it,” Brian said, hand at his chest as the sensation filled him. “It’s powerful.”

“You use my blood well.”

“Can others feel it?”

“Only those who have our blood,” Ulugh replied with a soft smile. “They also must open their minds to experience.” Ulugh picked up Brian’s book and remarked, “I gather you weren’t entirely absorbed in your book?”

Brian rolled his eyes and laughed. He was caught, so he could only admit nothing and move onto the next topic. Seeing Isis enter the loft, he closed his eyes and linked telepathically with his youngest childe, Matt.

“I need you to concentrate for me,” Brian told his childe.

“Of course, Sire.”

“Tell me when you feel it.”

“There’s something out there, Sire,” Matt finally said after several moments of silence. “I can’t exactly tell, but it’s powerful.”

“Can you find it?”

“I can sense the direction it’s coming from,” Matt replied. “I’m not sure I can pinpoint it, but I can get close.”

“If you find the source,” Brian said, “bring it to me.”

“Of course.”

Brian broke the link to his youngest childe and turned to his father. When he saw Ulugh nod his approval, he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table.

“So how long have you known, Isis?” Brian asked.

“About the power?” Isis said innocently. “Longer than you.”

“Bitch.”

“Thank you,” Isis replied, sitting down with a smile. “I’ll make sure someone else backs Matt up. You wouldn’t want to lose your second childe, would you?”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Is this how you rule everything?” Isis wondered aloud. “As well as your mate?”

“Justin’s none of your business,” Brian snapped.

“He’s invited you to the opening of his new art gallery,” Isis countered, hoping to get some reaction out of the man.

“I’ve heard,” Brian replied smoothly. “Linds and Mel already asked me and I told them what I’ll tell you, ‘no’. Why the fuck would I want to go to some silly fucking art gallery opening?”

“Who knows?” Isis answered, glancing at Ulugh. It appeared they did.

****

“I’m so glad he isn’t coming,” Mel whispered to Lindsay. “He has a way of fucking things up.”

Lindsay glared at Mel then glanced over at Justin. Although she didn’t want to admit it, it appeared that Mel was probably right. Justin was becoming a man and Brian…well, Brian was still Brian.

“I suppose so,” Lindsay replied, sighing then strolling over to the young Primogen.

“I don’t like it,” Justin complained to a surrounding group of clansmen. “This isn’t a cheap hotel in Vegas, this is supposed to be an elegant art gallery opening. I don’t want a buffet.”

“I agree,” Lindsay said, glancing at the drawing of the proposed catering arrangements. “Buffets don’t seem particularly elegant to me. Hmm…perhaps cookies? We can make them like small impressionist paintings. It’ll be so cute.”

“Cookies?” Justin mumbled. “I dunno…”

“I have a good idea,” Mel said, seeing the look on Justin’s face and feeling quite the same about impressionist cookies. “Maybe we all know someone who is very qualified at throwing parties…”

“Who?” Lindsay wondered aloud.

“The person who put together one of the most beautiful weddings between two women who love each other very much,” Mel replied with a smile. “And if it wasn’t for this someone, we might not be married right now.”

“What a wonderful idea!”

Justin stared at the two women and wondered why they would want Brian to throw the party? He recalled distinctly that both women explained how much they both thought it was a bad idea for Brian to show up at the party at all. Justin was about to open his mouth and ask them when Lindsay ran to the phone.

“I’ll call Emmett,” she said, picking up the phone and dialing.

“Oh,” Justin sighed, glad it wasn’t Brian, but also a little upset. He wondered why everyone always seem to forget the good things Brian did for them….including himself. He shook his head, regretting his past decision to leave although he wasn’t able to do anything about it. “I need some fresh air.”

Though Justin’s body didn’t require air, he wanted to feel the breeze cooling his lungs. He stood outside and concentrated, knowing full well that the baby would try and teleport him to Brian. When it appeared that wasn’t going to happen, he sensed something he hadn’t before. It was powerful and it was heading his way.

****

“This way or this way?” Willow asked, pointing in opposite directions. “I mean, I knew Penn was a big street, but I didn’t know it was this big.”

“I wish we had a better addy,” Buffy replied, staring down each side of the street, but still not knowing which direction to take. “I mean it’s not like the street is long or anything and we’ve been walking for hours. Have I seen this place before?” Buffy turned around, then changed directions to turn around again. “Huh…are we going in circles?”

“Well, unless there’s two bars named Woody’s…wait…we’re on Liberty Avenue again,” Willow sighed. “Good grief!”

“How about this…” Buffy began, when she saw the sign to Penn street not too far away. “You go that way and I’ll go this way. I’ll meet you back at the hotel in an hour.”

“Want to set our watches?”

“I don’t have a watch.”

“Cells?”

“We don’t have cells.”

“We so need to get into this millennium,” Willow replied, shaking her head. “Meet you in an hour.”

Buffy agreed and walked in the opposite direction from the witch, thinking to herself how easy this was compared to the hell she had to deal with in Sunnydale…literally. Pittsburgh had nothing next to the drama on the Hellmouth.

****

Spike walked up to the hotel cursing himself for not asking more about which room Buffy and Willow were staying. Knowing her smell, he used his vampire senses and made his way to her room. Not that he was in a rush to find her since he had no new information to tell her. His old contact was dead…in fact most of his clansmen were nowhere to be found.

Sighing, Spike knocked on the door and rolled his eyes when no one answered. Using his usual subtlety, he chose to kick the door open with his steel toed combat boot instead of picking the lock or even trying the doorknob. Looking around the room he saw what he had already smelled. Neither Buffy nor Willow were there. He shouldn’t have been surprised: Buffy always did do things her own way. However, this wasn’t a normal situation and the proof was standing at the door to Buffy’s hotel room.

“You’re new,” Cash said, Matt by his side. “I haven’t seen you, which means the Prince hasn’t seen you…any explanation for that?”

“Hadn’t had me hair done yet, mate,” Spike replied smoothly. “Wouldn’t want to meet the Prince without a little wash up first. Isn’t proper, don’t you think?”

“He looks like a Brujah,” Matt stated, staring at Spike then sniffing the bleached blond vampire. A little confused, he stepped closer, only to move back when Spike quickly removed his large black leather jacket. “But he’s not.”

“Very good,” Cash told the young Tremere.

“Lessons for the infant?” Spike chuckled.

“Yes,” Matt hissed, though he had an eerie grin on his face. “With manners like yours, you’ll be getting some soon. Only your lessons won’t be as pleasant.”

“Just know that I’m not intimidated by some bloody Prince,” Spike snorted. “I’ve seen quite a few in me time and all of ‘em weren’t much to ‘member.”

“There are many reasons you’ll remember my Sire,” Matt chuckled, his eye steely and confident. “The least of which being the royal blood running through his veins.”

Spike gripped onto his prized jacket and knew he was in trouble. Not only was the Prince a Tremere, but he was a Royal Blood. Spike knew that unlike other clans, Tremere prized their strongest, especially those with the closest link to Caine. Whoever this Prince was, he wasn’t one to be trifled with. If he had forgotten, Spike now remembered why he stayed away from the East Coast: the Clans here were worse than organized crime.

“‘Spose it’s time to meet the Prince?” Spike said, putting down his jacket. He hoped Buffy would get the clue since Spike treasured the jacket more than anything else that he owned. Well…it was the only thing he really owned and it wasn’t really his since he stole it off the Slayer he killed sometime in the ‘70’s. Either way, he hoped Buffy would get it…or at least Willow would. “Unless I have a choice?”

“No choice,” Cash replied.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Could be worse,” Matt said with a smile. “At least you look more like a Brujah than your own clan…Sire don’t like you pricks much.”

“Most Tremere don’t,” Spike agreed, wondering why it had to be like this.

Spike, strangely, liked Tremere more than he liked his own clan. He preferred the Brujah because they were as chaotic as his state of mind, but the Tremere were always better conversationalists. He could never run from what he was, though. It was in the blood. And though he never had a problem with Tremere, they always seem to have a problem with him. He, however, didn’t blame them. He had to agree that most of his ‘brothers’ weren’t worth much. Given the choice, he would have chosen another clan, but Spike hadn’t had a choice. He was a Ventrue…and more specifically, he was a Ventrue in deep shit.

****

Justin glanced around the opening, glad of their last minute party planner. Though Justin would never give Emmett total credit for putting together Mel and Lindsay’s wedding at the last minute, he had to give his friend and confidant credit for the gallery opening. They called him in the morning and later in the afternoon, everything was up and running. The exhibit rooms looked a bit frantic, but it seemed to fit with the Moulin Rouge theme. It was all very theatrical, which was something Toreadors lived for.

“How do you like it?” Emmett asked, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Do you know I’ve already gotten a bunch of people’s cards? Everyone’s asking me to plan their little events!”

“It’s spectacular,” Justin replied, wanting to rub a plump belly, but not able to with Regilio hard at work obfuscating his stomach.

“It’s fucking fabulous,” Debbie added next to Vic. “I’ve never seen a spectacle like this since…well, since last Tuesday at Woody’s.”

“Subtle, Ma,” Michael snickered, turning his attention to Justin. “But I like it, I guess. I don’t know about the art, though…seems a little overdone.”

“Leave it up to you to call Picasso and Monet overdone,” Justin mocked, rolling his eyes. “Too bad we couldn’t get any original Marvel comic book pictures…they just might be up to snuff.”

“They had some good stuff,” Michael retorted, knowing full well Justin meant to insult him. “Some of the original printings cost a pretty penny.”

“Well I couldn’t afford any of that shit,” Deb laughed, giddy as always. “Picasso or the latest Superman.”

“You’re not the only one,” Mel said, glancing over Deb’s shoulder to see someone she would have rather not. “Oh shit, I thought he wasn’t coming.”

Justin looked in the direction Mel was glaring and saw Brian. Something inside of him ached but another, stronger, part of him tried to push him in the direction of his mate. He wanted to go to him and possibly would have if Michael hadn’t rushed to the Prince, all smiles. Instead he grabbed onto a fellow Toreador and told Regilio to stay nearby. He hadn’t much choice, the baby wanted its father and was using magic to try and push Justin to Brian.

It was all quite innocent...when explained. Justin wasn’t grabbing onto to the handsome Toreador for any reason but for the baby’s push towards its father. Only, Brian was never one to ask for explanations. He preferred to let actions do all the talking, which is what he wished Michael would do. Brian rolled his eyes when his eldest childe ran up to him and began to talk. He tried to tune his best friend out when Mel and Lindsay walked to him, complaining before they even got there.

“You said you wouldn’t be here,” Lindsay said, her voice low but intense. “This is Justin’s gallery opening and honestly, Brian, it’s not like you give a shit about art.”

“You fucking prick,” Mel added, louder and to the point. “You’ve got some nerve to show up here.”

“He’s the Prince of this city,” Michael snapped in Brian’s defense. “He can be anywhere he wants.”

“You promised not to be here,” Lindsay replied directly to Brian. “This is Justin’s day!”

“Considering you’ve been nothing but an asshole to the kid since he smartened up and left you,” Mel continued, “I’m really not that surprised you’re here. God forbid he live his life without the almighty Brian Kinney.”

“Like I was telling Brian before you rudely interrupted,” Michael said, turning to the two women. “He’s better off without the little blonde nit wit. All we need is for him to drop off the face of the planet and everything will be better!”

If Michael had the ability to go back in time and say something different knowing what Brian’s reaction would be, he would have. However that wouldn’t be the case. Michael would have to live with his own harsh words…well, after he woke up after being struck by Brian. That wouldn’t be for quite some time. When Brian hit Michael, it sent the younger Tremere across the room and through a glass window.

Justin was just happy that Michael missed all the expensive paintings. That was the only thing he was happy about. He had heard Michael. Justin was hoping Brian would say something, but it didn’t surprise him when the Tremere didn’t. The Toreador Primogen wasn’t stupid. He felt anger radiating from Brian and something that felt like jealousy. It seemed to be a light in his darkness, so Justin took a small chance. He smiled at Brian. What Justin received in return was a glare that would freeze boiling water.

“Fine,” Justin mumbled to himself. If Brian was upset, then so was he. In fact, he had a better reason to be upset…not only did Brian crash his party, he beat up a guest. So what that guest was Michael?

Justin’s intent was to walk up to Brian and inform his mate that beating up others in a civilized social gathering was unacceptable. In fact, he worded it in his head exactly that way. Justin took a deep, unneeded breath and turned to Brian only to see that his former lover was gone. Frustrated, Justin slammed his fist on a table then walked out of the gallery with Regillio and a few Toreador guards following. All he could think of was what other catastrophe would find him next.

****

Buffy strolled down the hotel corridor towards her room eating an ice cream. When she saw the broken door, she peeked her head inside the room and saw that nothing appeared in disarray. The only thing of note was Spike’s leather jacket sitting on one of the beds. There was one thing she knew about Spike and his jacket…he got it from killing a Slayer and it was his most prized possession. If it was there and he wasn’t, there was probably something wrong.

“Maybe Spike wasn’t kidding about this city,” Buffy said to herself between licks of her ice cream.

After thinking about it for a moment, Buffy came to the conclusion that she needed more information. First she called Giles who had nothing to say except that doom was impending. No new news there.

Who else would know besides Spike? Buffy thought about it and picked up the phone a little excited. Angel. Buffy’s first real boyfriend. Her first lover. Her first betrayal. Her first vampire. Angel was a lot of firsts. In fact, he was the first vampire with a cursed soul, but that’s something he preferred not to discuss.

“Angel Investigations.”

“Hey, is Angel there?” Buffy asked.

“No.”

“Is there a way I can get a hold of him?”

“No.”

“Who’s this?” Buffy asked.

“Conner,” the young man replied. “Angel’s…son.”

“Heard a little bit about you,” Buffy said weary. “Do you know when…your dad will be back? I need his help ASAP.”

“Not in the near future…if at all.”

“Is he in trouble?” Buffy questioned frantically.

“Isn’t he always?” Conner replied, his voice never wavering. “What did you need him for?”

“Another apocalypse,” Buffy answered. “I was hoping he would tell me about the vampires on the East Coast. Somehow they’re supposed to be different or organized or something. I figure it has something to do with some Prince or other-” Buffy paused when she heard a click. “Hello? Hello?”

She waved the phone around and then pressed the talk button.

“Little jerk hung up on me,” she snickered. She made her way to the window and looked out. “I hope Willow’s having more luck than me.”

****

Justin walked up to the Toreador Headquarters and immediately felt a powerful presence. He wondered what it was but didn’t think that much of it until a Gargoyle came from atop his building to stop him.

“My Lord,” the Gargoyle said respectfully. “There is a young woman inside of your keep.”

“Why did you fucking let her in?”

“All Gargoyles were instructed to keep lookout for the Slayer and the powerful one,” the Gargoyle explained. “Prince Kinney wants both in his presence as soon as they can be contained.”

“So?”

“My Sire, Bartox, gave me specific instructions,” the Gargoyle said almost embarrassed. “If either the Slayer or the presence make their way to you, I am to inform you so that you can apprehend them and take them to the Prince.”

“Brian?” Justin wondered aloud hopeful. When he saw the look on the Gargoyles face he made another guess. “Isis.”

“I am just a guardian, My Lord.”

“I suppose you’d better guard me then,” Justin snipped, not really sure how to take it all.

Justin went inside and saw a redhead who dressed like every other Wiccan he had ever met. She didn’t look intimidating, but for her aura. She was the powerful presence. There was no mistaking that. There was also no mistaking that she was riffling through his financial documents.

“Can I help you?” Justin asked. He would have had Regilio hide or the Gargoyle appear as a statue, but there was something about this woman that told him she had seen so much more than that.

“Oh…sorry,” Willow replied. “I just…I mean I was just…”

“Snooping?”

“Sort of…”

Justin smiled. For a powerful woman she seemed too nerdy, too sweet to be of any harm. If it wasn’t for rumble is his flat appearing belly, he might have forgotten who he was in front of.

“What’s your name?” Justin asked with a smile. If she appeared innocent, the young Toreador looked angelic. “Red?”

“This guy I know calls me that,” the Wiccan answered. “My name’s Willow though.” Willow grinned and approached the young fair haired man. “What’s yours?”

“Justin,” the Toreador replied. “Justin Taylor.”

“You’re him,” Willow gasped, stepping back. “You’re a vampire.”

“That I am,” Justin agreed, waving his hand to order Toreadors to surround her. In a flash of an eye, there were several Gargoyles entering the room, blocking off the redhead’s exits. “And you are the one with power. So…we can do this the easy way…or we can do this the hard…”

“I vote for hard,” Willow replied. She grasped her fists, fixating on her power which turned her eyes and hair black. She was lifted off the ground by a force of concentrated air which blew her hair in all different directions.

The sight was intimidation, but Justin had seen worse. Not even flinching, the Toreador Primogen ordered a Gargoyle to approach the Wiccan. Justin wasn’t concerned until the Gargoyle exploded into many large pieces with the mere wave of the woman’s hand.

“Is this the only army you have?” Willow asked, her voice low and rough. “I’d expect something more for someone who calls himself a Prince.”

All Justin could think of was that this powerful, crazy looking redhead thought he was Brian. He wondered how he and Brian kept getting into trouble without even trying. It was a skill he wish he could get rid of. Though if he had a choice of anything to get rid of at that moment it would be the pissed off witch with lighting spewing from her fingertips. She looked ready to kill and it appeared as if Justin was her target.

“Shit.”