"I..it makes sense."

Angel stared at Dawn. The young woman hadn’t spoken since they’d left the church and walked the seven streets to the nearest hotel, a less than impressive establishment, its only apparent attribute being its seclusion. "What makes sense Dawn?" he softly prompted.

The teen glanced up at him, the lost look in her pool-like eyes heartbreaking. "I…I hadn’t thought of this before, but the vampires weren’t invited into our apartment, they just burst in. The Immortal owned the building, he must have invited them."

He felt Angelus roar from within him as Dawn collapsed into his arms, huge sobs wracking her lithe body. Angel glanced over the girl’s slender shoulders to see Connor staring on, an uncomfortable look on his face, and Illyira staring back with her usual superior expression. Taking an unneeded breath, he leaned down and muttered empty words of comfort into the brunette’s ear. Eventually the Californian’s sobs subsided and she pulled away. "S..sorry."

He smiled down at Dawn. "It’s okay," he took the girl by her elbow and sat her down on the side of the bed. Taking Dawn’s hands in his, he crouched down in front of her. "Dawn," he hesitated before deciding to start with some good news. "I got a phone call from Xander, he and Giles should be here tomorrow." He hid a wince at Dawn’s wan smile, hating to have to crush her burgeoning optimism. "The Watchers’ Keep was hit by a rocket." Dawn’s mouth dropped open and she let out a strangled gasp. "Xander, Giles, Faith, and two other Slayers were outside at the time. But," he licked his lips, his demon laughing inside, "everybody else was killed."

"No," Dawn whispered.

Angel swallowed before continuing. "Xander hasn’t been able to contact Willow," Dawn’s eyes widened in horror. "I’m afraid we think she’s been killed too."

"NOO!" the teen fell forward, tears streaming down her face. He held her, unable to say anything to ease the pain.

* * *

Connor looked around the busy airport, his nerves jangling, his father having sent him there to meet Faith and her companions. Connor scowled, he understood that the legendary vampire couldn’t very well leave their hotel during the blazing hot Italian day. What he didn’t like was Angel deciding he needed a baby-sitter and sending Illyria to accompany him.

Just looking at the former Winifred Burkle set his teeth on edge. He remembered how the shy Texan had mothered him the summer he’d betrayed Angel. It wasn’t right the way she’d been possessed by a god. And the way she barked out orders was even worse.

His mood brightened when he spotted Faith striding through the crowded airport like she owned it, flanked by a pair of girls who moved like warriors. But her male companions, Connor resisted the urge to shake his head as he moved towards the Bostonian, an old man and a Pillsbury Dough Boy. Hardly what they needed. Now more than ever he missed Wes and Gunn.

"Hi Faith." Forcing a smile he offered the curvy brunette his hand.

"Hiya Memory-Boy," the Slayer’s friendly wink and throaty tone caused him to redden slightly. "Your pa, copasetic?" Too flustered to speak, he simply nodded. "How ya doing Texas?"

"Why I’m just peachy keen Faith." It was creepy the way Illyria could transform back to Fred. It was really handy, allowing her pass as unnoticed as it was possible for a beautiful woman to do so in public, but it still made his skin crawl.

"Wicked, Connor. This is Xander," the east coast native nodded towards the fat man who answered with a friendly smile. "The oldster’s Giles, the red-head babe’s Vi, and the dread-locked honey’s Rona. Guys, this is Connor, Angel’s son, and that’s Fred, a regular little brainiac who worked for Angel." The sultry Bostonian raised an eyebrow. "We heading to the hotel now?"

"Yesh," Connor nodded. "Follow me."

He inwardly bristled as he over-heard Xander’s comment to Faith. "You know Deadboy the Younger fancies the pants off you?"

Faith chuckled. "Course I do. He’s a male ain’t he?"

* * *

"I don’t see what use Xander and Giles can be!" Connor exclaimed. "Xander’s a fat ass buffoon and Giles is a stuffy old man."

Angel resisted the urge to groan. Clearly his son had been saving this outburst the half hour it had taken him to drive back from picking the newcomers up. "You shouldn’t be so quick to judge," he wearily rubbed his forehead. How did Xander manage to rub so many people up the wrong way so quickly? Oh yeah, by breathing. "Xander’s been a pain in the arse ever since I’ve known him. But you know the most irritating thing about him?" Seeing his son’s mouth open, he waved him to silence. "He was right. He was right to distrust me, my motives, right for thinking the only reason I was there was for Buffy, that I otherwise didn’t care." It was different now, Cordy, Doyle, and the others had changed him, but he somehow doubted Xander would ever see it that way. And that saddened him more than he’d imagined. "As for his jackass exterior, yeah it’s true. But you hurt or threaten one of his friends and, let’s just say an extended stay in Quor'Toth is preferable to having Xander come after you."

"As for Giles," Angel paused as unwanted memories flooded over him. "There was a time I respected him more than any man I’ve ever met. He’s tough, smart, but also the sort of father I’d also hoped I’d be." As opposed to the tyrannical bastard who’d raised him. "But then Angelus rose and he killed the love of Giles’ life. In retaliation, Giles, alone mind, walked into my base and faced me, Spike, and Drusilla." Connor’s eyes widened. "Giles is not a man to cross, he’s a lot like Holtz in that respect. Give them a chance."

* * *

"Your hair looks good Dawnie," Xander began for want of anything to say.

The brunette began to shake. "They killed her."

"I know Dawnie, I know." Xander was helpless to do anything but hold the trembling girl in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead. "We’ll look after you."

"God," the brunette choked back a sob. "When she was here she was such a pain. But now," the girl’s cheers began to freely flow. "Now, I miss her so much."

"Hey, hey," he gently rocked the teen he regarded as his little sister from side to side. "That’s right. Let it out," he prompted softly.

After a couple of minutes, Dawn looked up at him, a wan smile on her face. "Seems all I do these days is cry."

"Hey," he stroked the young woman’s newly-short hair. "That’s okay."

"No," Dawn shook her head, a familiar determined look entering her bloodshot eyes. "I’ve cried enough. Now we’ve got to concentrate on getting even. Grieve later."

Xander smiled and nodded. That pretty much mirrored his own thoughts. Losing Buffy, but especially Willow, hurt like hell, but at least this time he had an enemy to focus on, take away the immediacy of his pain. Unlike with Anya. "Good girl." He started to stand.

"X…Xander," he looked down to the suddenly pensive-looking former key. "After this is all over, c…can I live with y…you?"

Xander’s remaining eye widened, his mind filling with a ton of conflicting arguments. On the one hand, he’d already offered to be Faith’s Watcher. On the other, it would be what Buffy would want. But Dawn loathed Faith with the sort of fiery passion that was reserved for a fallen idol. And it wasn’t like Giles wouldn’t give Dawn a good home. But she wanted to be with him, he couldn’t just reject her. "I’d like that a lot but," he nervously licked his lips. "I’ve already promised to be Faith’s Watcher after all this is over."

"Oh," Dawn stared at him. "I….I could help. I’m good at the languages and research."

"That’s be great," Xander hesitated. "But Buffy wouldn’t want -."

"I don’t care," Dawn shook her head. "I just want to help people like she did."

"Okay," Xander nodded even as he groaned inwardly. Oh boy, as if his life wasn’t complicated enough. Faith had reformed – right?

* * *

Angel stared at the girl he regarded as his younger sister, struggling for the words to comfort her. In the end he settled for the blandly sincere. "I’m sorry for your loss."

He raised his arms offering a hug only for the Bostonian to smile weakly and wave him away. "No thanks Fang, don’t wanna risk that damn happiness clause of yours by having a mega-babe in your arms. God knows it was a pain in the ass putting your soul back in the last-," Faith shook her head. "Oh crap I forgot about Re-," Faith looked down at the ground, "me and my big mouth."

"It’s okay," Angel soothed as he inspected the brunette, noting the paleness of her complexion and the strain of her face. "How are you feeling?"

Faith’s cupid-shaped bottom lip quivered momentarily and the woman took a rattling breath. "Like my heart’s been torn out. Ya know?"

"I know," he nodded. And the hell of it was that he did. When Buffy had died for the second time, or Cordelia after her coma, he’d been destroyed. But at least he’d had his friends to cushion the blow. Faith believed she didn’t have anything and despite her carefully-constructed armour he guessed she was slowly falling apart. "When this is over, there’s a place on my team."

"Thanks Fang." He was surprised when the sultry beauty shook her head. "But X has kinda offered to be my Watcher. And I’m sorta thinking of maybe taking him up on the offer, take a chance to get to know him."

"Good."

Faith blinked. "Good? But you hate him!"

"We don’t get on," he admitted with a shrug. Although hate, at least on his side, was a little strong. "But if he thinks of you as a friend he’ll crawl over broken glass. You couldn’t do much better."

"Yeah," Faith nodded and stared at him for a second before continuing, a flinty look entering her chocolate-brown eyes. "So this Immortal, you got a plan for dealing with this fucker?"

* * *

"Fascinating." Connor shuffled on the spot, uncomfortable at the way the former librarian was staring at him like he was a scientist examining an especially intriguing experiment or lab specimen. "The son of two vampires, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes."

"Uh, yeah." Well this was embarrassing, especially with the two giggling Slayer stood behind the grey-haired Watcher.

"And how does your heritage manifest itself?"

"Uh?" he might be a college student but he was starting to think you needed a decoder ring to understand the middle-aged man.

"He asked how are you different from normals?" translated the dread-locked girl, he seemed to remember her name was Rona.

"Oh, well... I guess I kinda got some standard vampire traits. You know, enhanced senses, faster reactions, far stronger than normal humans, quicker healing... the usual I guess. Though I'm not quite as strong as a Master vampire... well, my da-,. Angel anyway. " He glanced at the two Slayers and hurriedly added. "But completely human other than that. Pulse, heartbeat, require oxygen... the whole works."

"Astounding, I’m given to understand that technically you’re not quite three yet?"

"Can’t wait until he’s full grown, yummy."

Although Connor felt his cheeks flame, it as if his interrogator hadn’t heard Vi’s whisper. "I was kidnapped by Daniel Holtz when I was just a few weeks old and raised by him in Quor'Toth."

Now Giles’ scholarly expression was replaced by one of astonishment. "Daniel Holtz, the legendary 18^th century vampire hunter upon which Stoker based much of his mythos?" he nodded. "Amazing. And have you yourself slain any major demons?"

"One, Sarjhan."

"The time-shifting demon?" he nodded again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that. The Englishman beamed. "Most impressive. Now how exactly did you slay him?"

Connor sighed. This was going to take a long time.

"I understand you have the preliminary stage 2 reports?" Agent F nodded, his commander beamed. "Please, continue."

"Hundred and twelve of our targets were killed, forty-five taken into custody, and twenty-seven missing."

"Um," his leader scowled for a second before shrugging. "Twenty-five per-cent of our targets taken. Given our rivals’ calibre and general attitude, that’s acceptable. How many of our units did they account for?"

"Eight hundred and twenty-nine." Almost their entire force.

He was surprised when his leader didn’t fly off the handle at the news. Instead he smiled. "Ah well, never mind. Once we have Martin under control we’ll have a whole new and far more effective army. Any news on the whereabouts of any of our priorities?"

For a second he was so shocked by his superior’s reaction he was too stunned to reply. "The missing W&H jet has been located with its now deceased pilot in Italy," he eventually reported.

"Um," his leader looked thoughtful. "That doesn’t quite tally with the actions of the ensoulled Angel; he’s far too queasy for that. Perhaps William the Bloody also survived. Why do you think he went to Italy?"

"Perhaps Dawn Summers managed to get a message out to him?"

His boss nodded. "That is certainly a possibility."

"Should we warn the Immortal?" he queried.

After a moment’s consideration, his superior shook his head. "There’s nothing to link him to the Summers girl’s death. And if by some fluke they find the connection," his superior shrugged. "He has his own security. If he’s taken. He knows little."

* * *

"No! A million times no!" Xander’s solitary eye bulged. "In the history of bad ideas this is the worst I’ve ever heard!"

"That’s a maybe then? Angel asked.

Xander glared at the smirking vampire. "Deadboy smiling! He’s evil! Faith, stake him!"

"One-eye is quite right," interjected Illyria. "Such a plan is dishonourable. Skulking around in dark. We should storm this den of iniquity and take this Immortal vermin, make him beg to spill his secrets together with his entrails!"

Xander gaped at the Old One. "Okay, correction. There are worse plans than Deadboy’s."

The former Scourge sighed long-sufferingly. If nothing else he had to admire the Irish demon’s patience. ‘Course when dealing with a being who could take on Angel, Faith, and Connor without breaking a sweat, he guessed the vampire didn’t have much choice. "That wouldn’t work," Deadboy explained. "The Immortal is heavily protected wherever he goes. If we attempted to take him by force, he could easily escape. Worse still, innocents could be injured in the melee."

"Why can’t we kidnap him at his home?" Dawn put in.

"Now there’s a plan!" Xander enthused. "I like that idea!"

"No one knows where he lives," Angel’s words quashed his floundering hope. "Or even where he’s going to turn up next. Except every Friday night he goes to his favourite nightclub, a club he owns, and picks up a girl for the weekend. You accompany Faith to the club, she catches his eye-."

"How can you be sure she will?"

"You still got one eye right Xan?"

"Fine," he waved his hand at Faith’s smirk. "I withdraw the question in favour of keeping my limbs."

Angel continued. "The Immortal asks her over, you have an argument, and his bodyguards throw you out. You head back to us and Faith gets him to take her back to his place. We track her using electronics surveillance. When they reach his mansion, she notifies us -."

Again Xander interrupted. "Okay, but were are we getting this bugging equipment from?"

"Ah," Giles stepped forward. "That’s where I come in. A friend of mine works in the electronics business. I’ve already sent for the equipment, it should be here tomorrow."

Xander scowled at the treacherous Englishman; he swore it was a conspiracy. "Okay," Xander hesitated. "Not to get all schoolyard, but why me? You’re," he nodded towards Angel, "a way better fighter and fit in better with the jet-set than me."

Angel nodded. "True. But the Immortal and Angelus had a run-in back in the day. Even without the club’s vampire detectors he’s bound to recognise me."

"You sure got around didn’t you?" Xander shook his head. "So why don’t you," he pointed towards the two younger Slayers flanking Connor, "go with Faith. Like a threesome?" He grinned suddenly. "Now there’s a picture I’d savour."

"Me too, ow!" Connor rubbed at the back of his head where the two junior Slayers had simultaneously slapped him. "Just sayin’."

After shooting his son an amused glance, Angel turned back to him. "We have no idea what security he has at his home. We might need as many of our best fighters as possible to get through the outer security."

"I guess that makes sense," Xander admitted. "But while I doubt I’m high on the list of our enemy’s Most Wanted, I do kinda stand out."

"Fuck Xand!" Faith exploded. "Get with the program! If you’re gonna be my Watcher you’re gonna have to gro-."

"You’ve offered to be Faith’s Watcher?" G-Man interrupted.

"You gotta problem with that?" Faith’s eyes flared as she turned to the Council Head. "Not good enough for him!"

"On the contrary," Giles raised his hands placatingly. "I’m sure you’ll make a magnificent team."

"Oh," Faith turned back to him, her eyes still blazing. Xander resisted the urge to sigh. He could well understand Faith’s anger at the world, he’d gone through it after Anya’s death, add in her residual bitterness at her mistreatment during her first run in Sunnydale, and you had quite a turbulent cocktail. But it wasn’t helping matters any. "Yeah," Faith glanced at the Englishman again before turning back towards him. "Fang thought of that. We could both be recognised, so I’m having my hair braided," Faith’s grimace told him what she thought of that idea. "I’m putting in grey contacts and covering my tat."

"And that’s it?" Sounded thin to him.

"Not quite."

Faith’s smirk told him she had a hell of a surprise planned. Good or bad, well he’d have to wait and see. He shuddered inwardly at the terrifying prospect of a Faith planned surprise. "What about me?"

The Slayer circled around him, like a lioness stalked her prey. "I figure a crew-cut, a stud in your ear," Xander’s eye widened. "Some clothes bought by Angel instead of your usual crap." His mouth opened in protest. "Oh and your hair – bleached red I think." Xander groaned, this was a world of bad.

* * *

"What do ya think?"

Xander’s mouth opened and closed several times at the wondrous sight before him before finally managing to speak. "W…wow."

"Wow?" Faith’s eyebrow rose slightly and her curved lips parted in a crooked smile. "I get dressed up special for you and the best you can come up with is wow? Frankly I’m insulted."

"Try this, you look like a billion dollars," he said, meaning every word. Even with her hair braided, her lips peach instead of their usual cherry red, and the contacts making her eyes a smoky grey instead of their usual soulful brown she was still Faith. But a Faith he’d never seen or even dreamt of seeing.

The Bostonian was dressed in a full length black sequined cocktail dress that clung to her curvy body like a second skin. Slits on either side ran down from the waist to the ground, giving tantalising glimpses of the east coast native’s long, slender legs. The dress was sleeveless and backless revealing the muscular definition in her arms and lats while the plunging neckline stopped mid-way between her ample breasts where a gold crucifix hung. The ensemble was completed by a simple sliver chain fastened around her slender waist.

Faith grinned. "That’s more like it X." The Slayer gave him an appraising look. "Vi did a good job with the make-up."

"Yeah," Xander touched the jagged scar Vi had cosmetically added. It tan from the bottom of his eye-patch to his jaw, using the skills Vi’s mother, a former theatre make-up artist, had taught her. "I feel ridiculous."

"Well you don’t look bad. Although."

"Although what?"

Faith sauntered towards him, patting his paunch. "You need to lose about thirty pounds if you want to be my Watcher. Can’t have a fat-ass as my Watcher, matter of pride."

"Thirty pounds!" Xander knew he’d put some weight on over the last year, but thirty pounds? "I’ve only put on an extra twenty!"

"Hate to break it you X, but weren’t exactly a lean mean machine before this." The mirth left the brunette’s eyes. "I really don’t wanna do this," the Slayer admitted. "It’s like cheating on Woodie."

"You don’t have to."

"No," Faith shook her head, a determined glint entering her eyes. "This is our first chance to get a lead on these bastards. Come on, the limo’s waiting."

Xander nodded approvingly as he followed Faith into the back of the stretch limo. He noted the sumptuous leather seating, the ice bucket complete with champagne bottle, and the CD player playing gentle mood music through the car’s state of the art music system. This was the way to treat a girl.

The way he’d have treated Anya if he’d had the opportunity.

Forcing aside his souring mood, Xander leaned forward and pushed aside the panel in the partion separating him and Faith from their chauffer. "Drive on Parker," he instructed.

"And does," G-Man glared back at him, the chauffeur’s peaked cap resting uncomfortably on the Englishman’s head, "that make you Lady Penelope?"

"Tsk, tsk," Xander shook his head, secretly enjoying the older man’s discomfort. "Can’t get good help these days." The Council head had gone postal when Deadboy had mentioned that part of his plan included Giles acting as their chauffer. To Deadboy’s credit he’d taken Giles’ outburst in his stride, pointing out that he and Faith needed to project a certain image and turning up in a taxi wouldn’t cut it. Then Captain HairGel countered Giles’ demand as to why it had to be him by pointing out that the Immortal might recognise him, Connor was too young to convincingly play the role, and in machismo-filled Italy female chauffeurs would stand out, leaving the Englishman as the only viable candidate.

"You okay X?"

He started at Faith’s whisper in his ear. "I’m just a little tense," he admitted. After a breath, he closed the partion and sat back.

"Don’t be," Faith smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "It’ll work out."

"Yeah," Xander hesitated. Deciding to take an opportunity offered by the privacy, he brought up a thorny subject that had been troubling him since the attack on the Council. "You should ease up on G-Man."

Her eyes hardening, Faith pulled her hand away, leaving him with a surprising sense of loss. "Why the fuck should I?" the Bostonian almost snarled.

Xander hid a wince at the Slayer’s ferocity. "Because he’s lost people too. Two girls who were like daughters -."

"Yeah," if anything the east coast Slayer’s tone chilled still further. "Wouldn’t know much about that, seeing as he never treated me as any better than the shit off his shoe."

Xander leaned back against his seat. Ah, there was the rub. When she had Wood Faith had been happy, able to ignore her justifiable resentment towards them. But with the former Sunnydale Principal gone, those feelings had returned with a vengeance. "Just give him another chance," he pleaded.

"Why the hell should I?"

"Because it’s the right thing to do?" Faith’s eyes didn’t soften. "Because running on all this anger got you into trouble the first time."

After a second Faith nodded brusquely. "I’ll think about it."

Xander grinned; pleased with the grudging acquiescence he’d received. "That’s my Slayer."

* * *

Xander gulped as their transport smoothly halted outside the nightclub. "Relax X," Faith elbowed him in the ribs. "Remember it’s all about ‘tude."

"Yeah," Xander muttered in reply. "Shame I don’t have one."

Faith sighed. "Look X, remember those jocks who used to kick your ass at high school?" He nodded reluctantly; he was hardly likely to forget them. "Make like you’re one of them. You’re better than everybody else. After all," Faith broke from her coaching to wink at him, "you’ll be walking into the joint with the hottest babe in the damn place on your arm."

"Really?" Xander looked around the back of the shadowy limo. "When is she getting here – owww!"

He rubbed at the ear where Faith had just attempted to pull it off at. One eye, one ear missing. They weren’t even on the same side, how unlucky could he get? "Not funny," Faith scolded. The brunette looked up at the opening door. "Let’s rock ‘n’ roll."

"Good luck, and be careful."

Xander nodded his thanks to Giles before wrapping a possessive arm around his companion’s tiny waist, pulling her towards him. "Oh Luke," the Slayer breathlessly giggled in a most unFaithlike manner. "You’re so masterful!" The Bostonian leaned into him, whispering in his ear under the guise of kissing his cheek, her breath hot against his cheek. "Remember X, ‘tude."

"Sure." A sneer on his face, Xander strode towards the club entrance, conscious of the glares from those queuing to get into the night-spot. Soon they were at the club’s glass double-doors, the portal blocked by a trio of hulking bouncers, two standing over six foot, the third much shorter but even wider across the shoulders and thicker in the chest than his compatriots. "Hi boys!" he smirked at the three mammoths. "You can open the doors and tell everyone who’s anyone the party’s ready to start because Luke Archer’s here!" He threw his head back and whooped enthusiastically while slapping Faith on her well-rounded ass. He winced at the poorly-concealed glower his friend shot him. Maybe he was getting into character a little too much.

"There’s a queue sir," the shortest of the three bouncers said in poorly-accented English, a bullet-headed thug only a couple of inches taller than Faith but more than twice her weight. One of the other bouncers, his leering eyes not leaving Faith, leaned over and whispered something in quick-fire Italian into his fellow security guard’s ear. After a second, the man nodded and stepped to one side. "Go in."

"You must hate when guys look at you like that?" Xander commented as he safely ushered his partner past the guards and into the club foyer.

"Not as much as when they slap my ass," Faith deadpanned before turning serious. "Like I’m a piece of meat?" The Slayer shrugged. "Got used to guys wondering they could afford a piece years ago. At least now I’ve got my powers in case some prick starts something."

"Yeah," Xander distracted himself from the matter-of-fact way his companion hinted at her awful past by looking around their new surroundings. "It sure beats the Bronze."

Glittering globes hung from the ceiling, reflecting the strobe lighting that danced around the room. Plush Persian carpet covered the floor, apart from the spacious wood-panelled area in the centre of the bar set aside for dancing. The bar, Xander glanced over to his right, looked to be well-stocked and staffed by bright young things of both genders wearing tight-fitting uniforms of black shorts and crop tops. Even the clientele was of a better class, awkward teenagers replaced by cool European sophisticates dancing to the latest of Euro techno-pop.

Man, he felt out of place.

"Look up there," Faith bellowed in his ear. "In the VIP area. There he is."

Xander glanced up casually. In the balcony area, flanked by a pair of gorillas the twins of the bouncers outside the club and several dotted around it, there sat a fine-featured, slender man who looked to be anywhere from twenty to thirty years his senior, dressed in a custom-made suit. He turned at a nudge in his side to see Faith miming drinking. "What do you want?" he bellowed in an effort to be heard over the club’s blaring sound system.

Faith’s nose wrinkled. "You know me, I’m a JD girl, but as I’m channelling Queen C right about now, it’ll have to be bubbly."

Xander hid a wince. Angel had chipped in some money, but even so, the IDs, hotel rooms, cars, and plane tickets had already eaten considerably into his savings, to the point he could almost hear Anya nagging at him for frivolous spending. Despite that inner voice he didn’t mind the expense, just worried that they’d run out before this was over. And the prices in a place like this, Xander took another look at the top-line furnishings and décor, had to be sky-high. Finally he nodded. "Sure."

Taking a breath, he started to push his way through the crowd, ignored the glares and protests he got as he dragged Faith behind him by her wrist. When they arrived at the bar, Faith chuckled in his ear. "Very cro-mag Xan, you getting into the role?"

"Not hardly," Xander grimaced. He was attempting to act as a mixture of Parker Ahams and Percy West, two people he’d always despised. Turning his attention back to the bar, he slammed his fist on the counter. "A bottle of your best champagne!" he roared.

A few minutes later they were sat by the dance area, sipping at the champagne. It tasted great, but then at $500 a bottle it should. Faith looked over his shoulder, a hungry gleam entering her eyes. "Time for stage 2 of the plan."

"Stage 2?"

Faith grinned at him. "What did you think when you first saw me dance?"

"Ah. Gah. Wow. Oh boy. Drool."

"’Xactly," Faith winked. "And so will our target, time to reel him in." The Bostonian grabbed his wrist and yanked him to his feet. "Come on."

"Me." Xander’s remaining eye almost popped out of its socket. "I can’t dance!"

"You don’t have to," Faith looked to be enjoying his discomfort waaay too much. "Think of yourself as a pole dancer’s pole."

"Do poles often drool?" Xander felt the blood drain from his face, this sounded bad, very bad. "But-." Any further protests were cut off by the Slayer dragging him onto the dance floor.

The brunette spun around to face him, a smile playing on her full lips. "Put your hands on my waist." After a second he obeyed. The Bostonian’s smile widened as she looped her hands around the back of his neck. "Just go with the flow X."

His companion began to sway her slender hips to the pounding beat, the sight hypnotising, as the dress shifted and moved, giving him tantalising glimpses of the Slayer’s athletic legs beneath. His mouth dried as the Slayer moved closer, her lithe body grinding against him, still in tune to the music. Finally she turned her back on him. Pressing her butt against his groin, she began to slowly rotate it, making him groan with desire. Anya had never danced like this.

* * *

The Immortal smiled as he watched the braided beauty’s mesmerisingly sensual dance. He’d always been of the opinion that the best dancers were the best lovers. And if that was the case, he was in for quite the weekend. He smiled as he turned to his chief bodyguard. "Bring her to me."

* * *

The moment the record ended, Faith turned and stared thoughtfully at him. The Slayer reached up, almost tentatively, and ran a finger up his face before tousling his hair. "X," she muttered. "I think I’m gonna-." He was surprised when Faith crushed her lips to his, easing her tongue into his mouth with practised ease even as she started to massage his shoulders. After a second he began to instinctively respond, working his own tongue into his partner’s mouth while wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and running his fingers through her hair, marvelling at its silkiness. He was disappointed when the brunette pulled away, her expression confused. "Shit, I -."

"Madam," Xander looked up from his companion to see she was now flanked by a pair of the club’s bouncers. "The club’s owner would like to meet you."

"Yeah?" After a half-second, the Bostonian’s face regained its customary confidence. "Who’s he?" the bouncer pointed towards the Immortal. Faith smirked. "Nice," the east coast native turned back to him. "See you stud, I’m moving up to the big leagues."

Remembering his role, Xander scowled. "Hey bitch! I’ve spent plenty of money on you tonight." Raising a fist, he stepped towards the supernatural warrior but retreated when the bouncers blocked his path. "Fine!" he snarled. "Money-grabbing tramp!" Spinning around, he stormed out of the club and hurried down the street.

"She in?"

He started slightly at the vampire’s anxious voice drifting out of the shadows. When was Deadboy going to be fitted with a bell? "She’s in," he confirmed. God, he hoped things worked out.

"You wanna do a fully body search?" Faith stepped towards the lecherous security guard stationed at the bottom of the balcony steps. "No problem," she pointed towards the balcony. "’Course your boss might be wicked pissed that you got to touch before him. He could be the understanding type." Faith raised her arms to the crucifix position. "What da ya think?"

Even as she spoke, her mind was filled with the kiss she’d shared with Xander. She hadn’t meant to do it, she’d just been caught up in the moment, enjoying herself.

God, she was such a slut. Wood hadn’t been dead for even a week and she already locking lips with another guy. And the look on X’s face when she broke it off. No way he’d want to be her Watcher after that. Fucked up again.

Banished such thoughts from her mind, she glared defiantly at the bodyguard in front of her. Finally the man nodded and stepped aside, allowing her access to the spiral stairwell beyond. After snatching her purse back from the guard who’d searched through it, she started up the stairway, her stomach clenched at the role she was about to play.

* * *

The Immortal’s mouth dried as he rose to meet the smoky-eyed goddess swaying into his domain. It had been decades since he’d seen a woman to match her sultry beauty. This weekend was going to be the best for quite some time. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he took the curvy beauty’s hand, bent and kissed it. "And pray tell what is your name?"

"Angela Norton," the brunette raised a finely mascaraed eyebrow. "Thanks for saving me from that jackass."

The Immortal laughed. "It is entirely my pleasure, sweet child."

* * *

Faith seethed inwardly, her skin crawling every time the murdering bastard touched her, her teeth grinding every time he spoke. It was a struggle not to just grab and snap his neck right now. Only the knowledge that doing so would cost them their only lead to those who’d ordered the hit that had resulted in Woodie’s death restrained her.

When she’d been a kid, experiences of the boys at the local high school had left her dreaming of well-dressed, smooth-talking men with fast cars. After all being that they were rich and smart, they had to be classier. Bitter experience as she’d grown older had taught her different, leaving her with the firm belief that all men were bastards.

It was an opinion she’d held until Angel had saved her from self-destructing. Yeah, there were some good ones – Fang, Xan, Gunn, Wes, and Wood accounted for all the good ones she’d ever known. And the Immortal, smooth-talking slime that he was, wasn’t likely to join that exclusive list. "Say," she drawled. "This mansion that you been telling me about. How about showing me if it’s as wicked as you say?"

"My dear," the Immortal smiled. "What a splendid idea."

"Yeah," Faith replied, the bitterness in her throat almost choking her. "I’m full of ‘em."

* * *

Giles glanced up from his perusal of his laptop. "They’re on the move," he reported before glaring back down at the computer. He’d sworn never to use one of these bloody things but with Willow’s demise, he pushed aside his sorrow, needs must.

Angel nodded. "Let’s go."

* * *

"We’re here, Angela."

"Nice." Faith had to admit she was impressed. The sleaze might be a murdering shit, but he did it in style. He lived on top of a small hill, in a three-storey mansion surrounded by a ten foot stone wall, iron grille gate. It even had its own vineyard. Once they’d driven up to the main doors, the Immortal’s bodyguards peeled off to leave them alone, their leering smirks leaving her in no doubt as to how they expected the night to go. Boy, Faith hid a smirk of her own, were they gonna be surprised.

Faith allowed the Immortal to lead her up to the second floor. "And this is my bedroom," her guide half bowed as he opened an oaken door. A low whistle of appreciation escaped her lips as she strode into the room beyond. It was cool, a pretty wicked place.

A four-postered bed took pride of place in the spacious, rush-weaved rug covered room. Satin sheets too, she loved the feel of satin on her body. The walls and ceiling were all mirrors, ensuring that no matter the angle the lovers would see themselves reflected in the act. In the far corner there was a well-stocked bar, by the door there was a Jacuzzi. Yeah, it was the bomb. Just the sort of place she’d have loved spending a few days with Woodie.

Forcing away the tightness in her chest, she turned to her smiling host. "Real classy," she praised before looking around. "I gotta freshen up. Where’s the bathroom?"

"Allow me my dear." The Immortal strode across the room and slid one of the mirrors aside. "Through there my sweet. Take your time, I’ll be waiting."

"Can hardly wait," Faith replied with all the sincerity of a Wolfram & Hart lawyer. The moment the door closed behind her, she opened her purse and pulled out her make-up box. Pulling out her lipstick she unscrewed the bottom and pulled out the transceiver hidden inside. "Guys, any time now would be good."

* * *

"Let me in there! That little slut owes me!"

The two men exchanged amused glances at his rant. It was obviously far from the first time a jilted suitor had turned up at the Immortal’s estates causing trouble. "I’m sorry sir," the shorter of the two security men spoke in broken English. "But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave."

"Why don’t you make me?" Xander challenged with a sneer. The two men stepped towards him.

Just as Deadboy stepped out of the shadows behind them. Even as the men began to turn, the Irish demon grabbed their heads and drove them together, the sounds of their skulls crashing together making Xander wince as the pair fell to the ground. "Eight years and still squeamish?" Angel scoffed.

"Ha, ha," Xander shot the former Scourge an irritated glance before looking at the iron grille gates. "How are we going to get them open Deadboy?"

Angel smirked. "Illyria!"

* * *

Vi leapt onto the top of the wall, balancing on the top for a half-second before somersaulting to the ground to land beside her best friend. Feeling her mobile vibrate against her hip, she pulled it out of her pocket. "Hello?" she whispered.

"It’s Angel, are you in?" Vi was unable to resist a shiver at the vampire’s voice. He was a hunk but she couldn’t understand Buffy’s attraction to him. Her entire being screamed at her to slam a stake through his heart every time she was in a room with him.

Deciding the blonde must have read way too much Anne Rice, she replied curtly. "Heading to the guardhouse now."

"Okay," she could almost hear the Irish vampire’s nod. "Give me a call when you’re in position."

"Sure," she dropped her phone back into her pocket before turning to Rona. "Let’s move out." The two of them hurried through the grounds, darting from cover to cover until they reached the guardhouse some one hundred paces from the back of the main mansion. "How many?"

Rona peeked through the window. "Six beds but only four guards," her friend whispered.

Vi nodded. "Check the back for another exit," she hissed.

Her fellow Slayer disappeared around the back of the one-storey building only to return a couple of minutes later. "Nothing."

"Good." That made it simpler. "You take the right side, I’ll do the left." Once they were in position, she glanced across at her African-American counterpart. "You ready?" her friend nodded. After taking a breath, Vi pulled out her mobile and dialled the vampire. "In position."

Thirty seconds later and a klaxon’s high-pitched screech filled the air, the shock of it making her wince. A couple of seconds later and the guardhouse door crashed open.

The moment the first guard stepped out of the building, VI grabbed hold of his collar and slammed him headfirst into the doorframe. Even as the thug slumped to the ground she leapt over his falling body, drop-kicking a second hoodlum to the ground before driving a fist into his face, knocking him cold. Looking up she saw Rona had similarly dealt with her rivals. "Let’s get inside."

Rona nodded. "Good idea."

* * *

"No Faith!" Swallowing hard, Angel did arguably the bravest thing he’d ever done and raced across the bedroom to grab hold of the homicidally screaming Slayer. He dragged the Bostonian off the crumpled Immortal, noting with some satisfaction that the villain’s face was a bloody mess. "Faith!" he yelled into the virulently swearing east coast native’s ear. "We need him alive!"

He was relieved when something close to reason returned to the raven-haired beauty’s eyes. "Put me down Fang," she muttered. "I’m cool."

After a second he complied with the young woman’s request before turning to the blood-splattered Italian on the bed and wincing. Unless the Immortal knew some heavy duty mages he wouldn’t be charming anyone with his Latin lover looks any time soon. Both eyes had been bludgeoned into something resembling misshapen eggs, his once Roman nose was now smash across his face, the blood leaking from it covering the bottom half of his face. And, Angel shuddered, in her insane fury, Faith had torn one of the Italian’s ears off. Shades of Mike Tyson.

"Angelus, keep her away from me," the Immortal wailed hysterically.

"Faith," he continued to stare at the trembling man. He somehow guessed the Immortal wouldn’t take much softening up. "Go and wait in the hallway with the others. Illyria and I will deal with this -."

"I wanna see what you do to this fucker."

The intensity in the Slayer’s voice chilled him to the bone. "You might want to," Angel struggled to keep his tone calm. If Faith went off the deep end, only Illyria would be able to stop her. And then only by using fatal measures. "But you’re not going to."

"Fang."

"Deadboy’s right," Angel thought that Xander’s voice was surprisingly steady considering he was stood next to a pissed off Slayer who in one of her less stellar moments had attempted to kill him. "You shouldn’t be here. Not for this."

There was a long pause. "K," Faith looked at him. "Fang-."

"Don’t worry," Angel continued to stare at the Immortal. "I’m not feeling merciful." Once the door had closed behind the others he strode over to the Immortal. "Long time no see."

"He is of the Chosen."

"What?" Angel turned to the blue-haired woman. "I’m fairly sure he’s not a Slayer."

"No," the Goddess shook her head impatiently. "The Old Ones used to make the most useful of their human servants immortal. He must have discovered the rites and used them for himself."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "That explains a lot. But he’s not invulnerable or immune to pain?"

"Of course not," Illyria sneered. "One does not give insects too much power lest they forget their place."

"Good to know." Grabbing the Immortal’s hand he twisted it back to breaking point. "Now you can make things easy or hard on yourself."

"You wouldn’t," the Immortal sobbed. "Your soul."

"My soul?" Angel allowed her eyes to turn yellow. "My soul is totally at one with this. Because of you one of the two women I’ve ever loved it dead. Because of your organisation several of my friends are dead. And my demon’s just along for the ride. Remember Darla?" the Immortal shrieked as Angel snapped his wrist like a twig. "And there’s the proof. Now, talk."

* * *

Faith stared at the floor, her heart clenched and mind racing. She didn’t have a problem with what she’d done to the Immortal, the fucker deserved it. But the rage that had consumed her had scared her, reminding her of the bad old days. "You okay?"

She looked up at Xander, surprised at the very real concern she saw in his single eye. "I kinda lost it in there, uh?"

"Hey," Xander placed his hands on her shoulders. "I’m not going to judge. I’ve hardly been Mr. Rational have I? It’ll take time, but you’ll get control again, I trust you."

"Thanks X." Faith smiled. "Means a -." She broke off to see Angel coming out of the bedroom, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "What’s the what?"

"The Immortal didn’t know much," Angel replied. "Not even who he worked for. But he did tell me who his contact was."

"And?" G moved forward, his eyes gleaming eagerly.

Angel hesitated for another second. "Andrew Wells."

"Andrew!" Rona’s shout was incredulous. "But that’s just dumb!"

"The Immortal’s description matched – short, high-pitched voice with delusions of importance," Angel replied, her idol sounded immeasurably tired. "And it fits some facts. They had to have someone placed in the Council. And," the vampire hesitated before looking towards Xander. "Something’s been puzzling me. Have you spent much time in Africa this year?"

"What?" her new Watcher sounded confused. "No. I’ve been," Xander coloured and looked down, "stuck into a bottle most of the year."

"Andrew told Spike you were in Africa." Angel said

"But why would he turn on us?" Xander sounded bewildered. "We took him in after all he did."

"’Cause," Faith found it almost impossible to force the words out. "Of me." Oh god, she’d killed Wood.

"Faith," it was G. "What do you mean?"

"No time," Angel snapped. "We need to get out of here fast. Explosives set?"

Xander tore his eyes away from her face to nod at her mentor. "Yeah."

"Great," her hero grabbed her by her arm, dragging her out of the house. "You can explain back at the house."

"Yeah, that’ll be a blast," she muttered, blinking away unshed tears.

* * *

"Faith." They were back at the out-of-the-way villa Xander had hired for them. "Why do you think Andrew betrayed us?"

Faith swallowed at Angel’s question, conscious of every one’s gaze on her. Oh god, she’d got them all killed. Gathering her strength, she started to talk.

* * *

"Faith! Faith! Faith!"

Groaning at the nasal screech behind her, Faith stopped. Quelling the urge to grab its owner by the throat, introduce his head to the wall, and cop a temporary insanity plea, she turned to face the speaker. "Yo Andy," she forced a smile. "What’s the sitch?"

She waited for a minute for the fanboy to raise his eyes from her chest, when he didn’t she sighed. "Eyes up Andy."

"Uh?" the geek coloured before finally looking into her face. "I was just thinking," Faith smirked; she knew exactly what he’d been thinking about. "We need to talk-."

"No offence Andy, but me and sci-fi don’t exactly mix."

"No," the geek shook his head, "I thought as reformed super-villains we have more in common than you might have thought. Maybe we can discuss our battle for redemption."

Faith struggled to contain the conflicting impulses of laughing in the nerd’s face and slapping him stupid. How could the stupid bastard could think the best way to pick up a honey was by throwing her past at her? And she might have been easy in the past, but a geek like Andrew? She’d never sunk that low. Settling for a put-down rather than sticking her foot up his ass, she shook her head. "Sorry Andy, but I feel the need to share it’ll be with a real man. Come back when you measure up." Still chuckling, she strode off.

* * *

"M…maybe if I’d have thrown him a bone."

"Faith," she looked up G’s firm but kind voice. "You are an exceptionally attractive young lady but I think you give yourself rather too much credit." Faith opened her mouth to reply but the Englishman’s next words caused her to clamp her mouth shut. "Besides, I rather think my own actions have had rather more to do with it."

* * *

"One insane Slayer retrieved sir."

Giles looked at the young man dancing on the spot before his desk. "Thank you Andrew," he glanced at the papers neatly stacked on the desk before him. "Now to your next assignment -."

"Sir," Andrew eagerly interrupted. "Now I’ve completed yet another mission I was wondering about a promotion, perhaps to the post of your successor."

Giles gaped at the youth. Six months and the blithering idiot thought he was suitable to lead the Council? "I’ve given some thought to my successor," he winced inwardly at the young man’s expectant expression. This was not going to be pretty. "And although I don’t plan to retire for some years I have several prospects in mind. Unfortunately though, your former evil-doing past precludes you from consideration." And your general insipidness, he added silently.

The youth’s face fell. "B…but I’m reformed!"

Giles nodded. "I know Andrew, but there are certain people on the ruling board would be less than sympathetic." Including himself, although that was due to a lack of the confidence in the boy’s competence rather than for any other reason.

* * *

"He thought he could replace Buff as next leader of the Council?" Xander looked incredulous.

"Actually," G glanced uneasily at Dawn before continuing, "Buffy was the finest fighter I knew but as leader -."

"She stunk." Every one turned in surprise to Dawn who shrugged. "Hey, she was my sister and I loved her but I’m not blind. That last year in Sunnydale she showed us how bad she was. She had the motivational skills of Pol Pot, and the strategic planning ability of General Haig." Dawn shuddered before directing her attention to G. "Who was your choice? Willow?"

Faith was surprised when the Watcher shook his head. "No, Willow’s past had shown she can be too easily swayed and her power would make the other Ruling Board members nervous." Faith smirked as G turned to Xan, smart choice. "My favoured choice was Xander."

"What!" The one-eyed Watcher let out a hysterical laugh. "You’re nuttier than a newly-souled Spike. I barely speak English, much less than the demonic stu-."

"Xander," Giles interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "Your shortcomings, as you see them, are trivial details that are quickly overcome. Knowledge of ancient and demonic languages can easily be learned, and even if, as you insist, you *are* incapable of grasping the basics then it wouldn't be a problem to provide someone to translate them for you. Most watchers have more than adequate abilities in that department before they've even come close to graduating."

"See... you ought to use one of them. They were bred to be Watchers after all, they'd be far more suited to the role," Xan babbled.

Giles shook his head and sighed. "Xander, that's just a skill... what you'd bring to

the role is experience. Take a look around you, no-one in this room outside of

myself and Angel has anywhere near the level of experience you have."

"Yeah, but..."

"And I'd be hard pressed to find anyone outside of this room fighting for our side that has any more either. You've fought alongside Slayers, witches, vampires and werewolves; and you've been doing that for as long as I have. You've fought against just about every type of demon that's visited the hellmouth. I can honestly say that although I've met people who were your superior in terms of knowledge or fighting ability; I've met none who surpass you in dedication."

Xan reddened and looked to the ground. "This last year I was hardly dedic..."

Giles sighed again. "You needed time to grieve, son. Seven years without a rest

would take a toll on anyone, and that's without taking into account what the

battle actually cost you. And what's the first thing you do when you return..? Offer to take on the role of Watcher to the oldest Slayer."

"Senior Slayer," Faith corrected.

"One who you know has a troubled past," Giles glanced over to her, she smiled back at him. "But you don't shy away from that, you accept the responsibility and offer to help her continue her own journey. Tell me again who else I should consider as my eventual replacement?"

Xander shook his head. "I was only offering to be Faith's Watcher, I'm not ready to

run the Council."

"Not yet, no. And for your information, I'm not quite ready to be thrown on the scrapheap quite yet." Giles continued with a grin. "But the head of the Council is normally chosen from the Watchers with the most experience... something I'm quite sure given a few years with Faith that you'd be more than ready for," the Englishman chuckled. "And probably a few grey hairs too."

"Go for it, Xan," Faith encouraged. "You’d you'd make a kick-ass leader."

"I can't think of anyone better either," Angel put in.

Xander looked around them all. "I'm not promising anything for the moment, well

nothing more than being Faith's watcher anyway."

"If when it comes to the time you think there's a more suitable candidate then I promise to be more than willing to consider them. But I think anyone's got a hard job to be taken into the running. Anyway you wouldn't be doing it alone. With Buffy’s retirement, Faith would have been installed as Senior Slayer, the reputation she’d built for herself in Slaying Kaktosis, helping us stop the Sisterhood, and her sterling work over the past year, her innovation in battle and strength in character in over-coming her difficulties would be a shining example of what could be achieved to the other Slayers." Faith found herself grinning. Strength of character? Shining example? She kinda liked that. "Andrew would have served as the academic expert and Robin, Director of Operations," Faith felt her heart drop at her dead lover’s name, "but obviously that will have to change."

"If I studied with you for a couple of years I could handle the academics."

"Of course," Giles beamed at Dawn. "What a splendid idea. You could do a degree at Oxford – ‘Ancient Languages and Anthropology’."

Dawn began to pout. "No arguments," Xander said. "Buffy and Joyce would have been so proud of you getting an Oxford degree." Dawn reluctantly nodded.

"Good, now that’s settled," Angel broke in. "How do we track Wells down?"

"Yes," Faith shuddered at the gleam that had enter G’s eyes. Man, he could be a scary fucker when he wanted. "I’ve had a few thoughts about that."

* * *

It took an hour or so before the full details of G’s plan were worked out. It was completely whacked out in her opinion, but then no one else had come up with anything. Afterwards they’d retired to their respective rooms.

At least the others had. She’d taken to patrolling their hotel’s grounds, ignoring a number of Roman males’ attempts to pick her up. "What’s wrong?"

She turned at Angel’s voice behind her, having sensed the vampire’s approach a few seconds earlier. "I….I kissed him."

The demon placed his hands on her shoulders. "Faith, you were playing a role."

"What?" realising what the vampire was thinking, she shook her head and turned to face her mentor. "No, I kissed Xan. God I’m such a slu-."

"Do. Not. Say. It." Angel pressed a finger to her lips, his intensity silencing her. "Listen to me Faith. People react differently to loss. Some lash out, some get depressed, and others seek comfort. At least with Xander, you know he wouldn’t take advantage."

"I guess," Faith shrugged. "But me and him are finally connecting. If not for him I might have got off the deep end back in England." She looked down at her feet. "And what do I? Take the first opportunity I get to stick my tongue down his throat." She chuckled bitterly. "The last time we got physical, it ended up with me nearly killing the poor bastard."

"He’s forgiven you."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "But how much?"

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