A/N: Mike, thanks for help on the dream sequence.

Gellert felt his blood race as his men lifted the weakly struggling Slayer. "What a warrior," he muttered in admiration. He’d killed many a Slayer in his time, far more than the pathetic Council realised, eight in all, more than any vampire he’d ever known, but he’d never seen one to match her. All those century old vampires in a matter of ten seconds. And all elite troops from his bloodline, extraordinary. And that wasn’t even counting the three he’d specifically used to get her into position. If only they had time for the Claiming, what a demon she’d make.

Shaking such regrets away, he pushed the secret door open and led the remainder of his party down the dusty tunnel to the cavern beneath. It was a pity things had come to this, but one had to make a stand.

He’d owned the Orpheus club for, he smiled as he realised this month would have been its 150^th anniversary. Generally he ran his clubs discreetly, avoiding as much contact as possible with normals. There was no profit in indiscretions, but some sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, and discarding this club to bait the trap for the Slayer was just perfect. Turning a corner, he shoved open a door. "Bring her," he commanded.

* * *

Breena staggered as she sensed a vampire the strength of which surpassed any, even Angel, she’d ever faced. Shaking off her fear, she leapt into the air, grabbed hold of the top of the door frame behind her and kicked her opponent square in the face, knocking him into the far wall. Dropping back to the floor, she raced over to the vampire and crashed her stake home. Spinning around, she saw a wide-eyed Penda staring at her. "You felt that?"

Penda nodded. "I felt that," her friend replied, her voice thick not only with her African accent but with fear.

"We’ve got to find Miss Lehane!" After a second’s hesitation, Penda nodded and followed her into the corridor. Heart racing, she raced down the passageway, stopping at the splintered open doorway. Rushing through, she found signs of a fight, dustpiles scattered across the floor, and the residue of the frightening presence she’d felt earlier. But no Faith.

"We’ll have to go get the others." Breena shook her head at Penda’s comment, she wasn’t deserting Faith. "Think Breena!" exhorted her fellow Slayer. "We can’t take that thing on alone. We need back-up. Besides vampires can track through smell. Angel will be able to find her."

Breena winced at the unpalatable truth in the last comment. "Fine," she snapped. "But let’s hurry!"

* * *

"Leave us!" Gellert growled. His subordinates bowed in unison and hurried out, leaving him with just his two eldest childes, Gier and Sophos. And their prisoner, held between them, struggling, scared, but defiant.

Gellert felt his previous regret flare anew. Even in her battered state, the Slayer was an astonishing beauty, all fire and wantonness. If only he had the time to turn her…

"I am gonna rip your-, ahh!"

His back handed slap knocked the girl’s face to the side, the blood from her mouth splattering Sophos stood to her right. "I DID NOT GIVE YOU LEAVE TO SPEAK!" he thundered. The girl glared at him when he tousled her raven tresses, her head twitched when he trailed his fingers down her flawless cheek. He chuckled when she spat in his face. Such spirit. After wiping it off, he looked at her for a second before stepping nearer. "If only I had the time," his men gripped the girl all the tighter as her struggles intensified as he leisurely unbuttoned her blouse, "your screams would be my sweetest symphony." Her blouse fell open, revealing the lush treasures within, allowing him to press his hand against the milky white skin of her left breast, fancying he could almost feel her pounding heart.

He could certainly smell her fear. The air was ripe, thick, with it.

Finally he sighed sorrowfully and stepped back. "Unfortunately I do not have time to attend to your breaking in person," he reached into his inner pocket and withdrew a syringe. He laughed at the growing terror in the Slayer’s doe-like eyes. "Yes, Orpheus," he nodded. "But a very special strain. And in a dosage that will," his smile widened, "keep you under but not dead until you’re very, very old."

"NO!"

He grabbed the Slayer around the throat and squeezed. In seconds, she was wheezing desperately. "Yes." He leaned into her, enjoying the feel of her writhing body against him. "Did you think," he yanked her head to the side and thrust the needle into her neck before injecting the drug, "there’d be no price to pay for killing my Yelena?"

Pulling the needle out, he watched in fascination the small trail of blood that trickled down the brunette beauty’s neck. Looking into her eyes, he could already see them dulling, drool dripping from her mouth. Perfect. Dropping the empty syringe, he turned to his henchmen. "Time to leave, I think."

His childes nodded before dropping the Slayer on the dust covered floor. After a final lingering look at her twitching body, he followed them out and into the labyrinth of tunnels that led to his home.

* * *

"That’s the last-," Xander’s voice trailed off as the stairwell to the back of the bar suddenly filled with a vamped out Angel, Connor and Dana following hot on his heels. "What’s wrong?"

"Where is he?" Angel looked left and right, eyes flickering with something close to fear.

"Where’s -."

Again he was interrupted by more interlopers, Breena and Penda crashing through the door to the back of the club. But no Faith. He was beaten to the two by Angel. "Where’s Faith?" Xander blinked at the intensity of the demon’s growl. If nothing else, he’d never doubt the depth of feeling Angel had for the Slayer again. The two Slayers looked towards him, he nodded encouragingly.

"We were in one room, Faith was in the next, we sensed something," Breena stopped in her explanation to briefly shudder before plunging on, "we ran through, but she wasn’t there."

"Show us!" Angel charged through the doorway the two Slayers had just come through. Xander opened his mouth to protest about Deadboy taking over. Deciding this really wasn’t the time, he followed after the demon, conscious of the others trailing behind.

Breena and Penda led them down a tight, dimly-lit corridor and into a heart-breakingly drab room. Xander looked around, noting the dustpiles scattered everywhere, unable to prevent a surge of pride wrapped within his fear. Faith hadn’t gone quietly, that was for sure.

"It’s Gellert."

Xander’s eye snapped towards Angel, the hoarseness of the demon’s tone chilling him to the bone. "What?"

"I..I can sense him, Xander," Xander was rocked by the fear in Angel’s eyes. "He’s strong, way stronger than the Master."

"Great," Xander looked around, "question is where’s -," he looked towards the far wall, brow furrowing as he watched Connor knock on it. "What are you doing?"

Connor continued his exploration. "They didn’t come past you or Bre and Penda, therefore unless they used magic there must be," Connor turned towards them, smirking triumphantly, "a secret passage. There’s a hollow panel here, all we need to do now is find the -," Connor’s voice trailed off when Angel heel kicked his way through the wall, "kick the door in."

* * *

Angel’s nose led him to his friend. His stomach shrivelled at the sight of her crumpled on the ground, body shaking, low keening sounds trembling out of her mouth. "What the hell!" he was surprised when Harris pushed past him and hurried to the Slayer, rolling her over and taking her in his arms. And was instantly thrown into the ceiling, near the far wall. Bounding forward, he caught the Watcher as he plummeted to the ground. "Deadboy, what’s wrong with her?"

Angel noted at the concern in the boy’s voice. It seemed Faith’s concerns about Xander not caring were misplaced. Not that he was surprised, the boy might be a congenital idiot but he cared. Placing the youth back on the floor, he glanced towards Faith. "I don’t kno-," his nose wrinkled and he grimaced. Looking around, he saw what he was searching for, and walked over to the syringe dropped on threadbare sitting chair. Picking up the syringe, he sniffed at it and growled, his suspicions confirmed. "Nightmare."

"What is it?"

"Nightmare, a brand of Orpheus," Angel continued to glare at the medical implement. "Wes and Gunn found out about it. The person injected," he steadfastly refused to look in the direction of the whimpering woman, "relives their worst nightmare, again and again, the vampire gets to feed off their fear. Nightmare junkies get paid the most, but last the least amount of time. This amount, on a Slayer she’ll never come out of it on her own. I’ll have to feed on her, go in, pull her out."

"No way."

Angel scowled at the young Watcher. "Xander this isn’t about whose got the biggest set of-."

"Does anyone else think that allowing a vampire to feed on a drugged Slayer would be a very, very bad idea?"

Angel stared at Xander, surprised at the youth using something as base as logic. "It’s not like we’ve got any other options," he tersely pointed out.

Xander swallowed. "Yeah, we have." He looked towards Faith. "I’ll go inside, drag her out."

"That’s insane!" Angel managed after a second gaping at the young Watcher. "We don’t even know if Orpheus works on humans like that!"

"That case we’re going to find out, worse case scenario it doesn’t work," Xander shrugged, "you get to vamp out and try your stuff. We’ve got enough Slayers if things go wrong."

Angel winced at the reminder that Xander considered him very disposable. Shrugging that off, he grabbed the youth by the arm and, ignoring the watching Slayers’ laser-point glares, dragged him into the outside corridor. "That is not the worse case scenario, you could end up trapped in there with her, reliving her terror again and again, but helpless to do anything!"

Xander’s gaze didn’t falter an inch. "At least she won’t alone." The boy’s face was as serious as the night he’d faced down Angelus. "I fouled up once before, couldn’t reach her, when -," the youth’s voice faltered and he shook his head. "I’m doing this. You helping or not?"

Angel briefly balanced the probability of Buffy killing him if something happened to Xander against the imperative of getting Faith help as quickly as possible, the longer she was under the worse, the harder, it would be to get her out. "We’ll try it your way," he conceded.

Xander nodded. "Thanks," the boy muttered before heading back in the room.

He was briefly surprised by the gratitude but didn’t let that stop him from asking his next question. "How do you intend to do this, you can’t feed?"

"God no," Xander grimaced. "I’m going to use the syringe, take some blood, and inject it into myself."

Angel blinked, it might just work. If it didn’t, well he’d try it himself when he tried to help. He would be better able to control the amount of blood he took at the very least. Although there was one problem. "You know how to take blood?"

"I learnt playing doctors and nurses."

Angel joined the others in staring at the Watcher. "That’s not the way you play doctors and nurses," Breena objected.

Xander smiled tightly. "You didn’t grow up with Willow Rosenberg."

Connor glanced at first him and then Xander, eyebrow raised. "And I thought my childhood was weird."

Xander chuckled nervously before taking the syringe. "Dead-, Angel," Angel blinked at the correction but then he guessed at least in this tense moment they were united, "Connor, grab her, hold her."

After a confirming nod from him, Connor and him approached Faith from the flanks. Grabbing a hold, he winced at her strength, in her drug-induced terror she was stronger than Buffy, almost as strong as the Beast. "Xander!" he winced as the Slayer attempted to bite him. "We can’t hold her on our own!"

"Okay," the pain and anger he felt at Faith’s predicament was mirrored in Xander’s face. "Bree, Penda, grab her legs, Dana," Xander looked towards the Slayer, "I want you to cut her right shirt sleeve off, then help Angel to hold her arm steady."

"You need someone," he pulled away from another bite. "To hold her head still too."

"I’m on it," Dae whispered, the tiny Oriental Slayer, even shorter than Buffy, hurried forward and grabbed Faith’s head in a chokehold from behind.

Xander winced before hurrying forward, and injecting the needle into the Bostonian’s arm. Once it was full, he took a breath before taking off his shirt and injecting the blood into his arm. The instant the syringe hit empty, Xander’s eyes dulled, and the youth pitched forward.

One of the other Slayers, Astrid he thought her name was, leapt forward, catching the Watcher. "I guess it worked," Connor commented, his voice tight before turning to him. "What next dad?"

Angel looked around. Realising everyone was looking at him, he quickly thought. "Back to base."

* * *

Faith moaned deep in her throat at the sound of the biker her mom was dating walking up the stairs. He’d be in her room soon, ‘said it was her own fault for being such a -.

"Hey, Faith." She bit down on her pillow muffling her shriek as a tall, one-eyed man stepped out of the shadows by her bed. How had he got here? "I’m not going to hurt you."

"L..leave me alone," she sobbed. Oh god, there was two of them.

"I’m a friend of yours." The one-eyed man looked around the darkened room, face creased in puzzlement. "You’re too young. You’ve not even been called yet. I thought your worse moment would be something Slayer-related."

"I don’t know ya!" she shook her head. And she didn’t have any friends, everyone knew she was trash, even her mom said so.

"Look," her eyes widened when the man waved his hand through the wall. "I’m not here and this isn’t happening, not really, not now. My name’s Xander and in the future you’re this big hero, but you’ve been drugged by someone who hates you and I’ve been sent to help you."

"You’re fucking nuts!"

"Now that sounded like the girl I know," Xander chuckled before his face turned serious again. "Okay, Faith I know you're scared. This isn't real, okay. You're an adult and more than capable of defending yourself against any nightmare."

"Great," Faith muttered. "Horny bikers. Now I get escaped loons too?"

The one-eyed man shook his head. "Right - you're obviously not going to believe that ‘cause that's just crazy talk from some guy you’ve never met. And I've just realised I know absolutely nothing about your childhood to make you believe we're erm,
friends.  Right, no-one said this was gonna be easy."

"Are you my boyfriend?" Faith suddenly blurted out, this guy might be wicked delusional but she kinda got the vibe he’d never even dream of laying a hand on her.

A muscle in the one-eyed man’s face twitched. "No, you don’t d-, you don’t have a boyfriend. I’m a friend who helps you."

"Helps me?" Faith blinked as she looked at the man. She might only be twelve, but she had eyes and couldn’t imagine a big man like this needing her help. "B..but I’m not a hero."

The man sighed and crouched down before her. "Listen Faith," she was surprised when she didn’t feel any fear at the closeness, with her close proximity was usually a precursor to a beating or worse. But she somehow she knew this guy wasn’t like the ones at her school or her mom dated, he was a good person like those knights in the books about King Arthur. "In the future you’re going to laugh at the sort of scumbag-," the man looked quizzically at her.

"Joe," she supplied.

"Joe is. You’re going to be somebody, someone who does great stuff, helps people." The big man leaned into her, his breath hot on her cheek. "But I’m going to let you into a secret. You’re somebody now, somebody who can fight back. Powers aren’t what make you special, heart is."

"You can fight him for me," she pleaded.

"Me? Help yo-," the man shook his head. "I wish I could," Xander smiled sadly. "Not here, remember." The man’s face stiffened. "Look, you have to do this, otherwise neither of us can leave here, we’ll be stuck here forever. I’m relying on you Faith."

Faith stared at the man before shaking her head. "Shouldn’t do that, I’m unreliable, can’t be trusted."

"Don’t say that," now she was a little scared by the anger in the man’s eye. "People rely on you now, you’ve friends who need you, you can’t stay in this coma."

Faith gulped at the sight of the battered door handle turning. Before now, she’d been too scared to do anything, her mom had always said she’d tan her hide, but now. "Okay," she whispered. Leaping up, she dived out of the bed, dressed in her customary cargo trousers, t-shirt, and sweater she kept on to make things hard for Joe, and leapt for the window. Xander said she was tough enough, she didn’t need her mom or anybody.

* * *

Xander gaped as Faith dived past him. "No Faith," he vainly grasped at the young girl but she ran through his ghostly arms and clambered through her window. Shaking his head and glaring at the opening door, if he was solid, he started for the window. "12, 22, it doesn’t matter," he muttered, "how old does this girl have to be when she starts to listen to me?" Sighing, he ran after her.

"Faith! Wait!" The girl stiffened at his shout, turning to face him. He hid a wince as he realised her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. "You were meant to fight him."

The brunette shook her head. "I…I can’t, he’s like bigger than you. I’m too small. Don’t be mad," she pleaded with the soft eyes that in just a few years would catch the heart of every man who looked into them.

"Faith, I’m not angry," he hastened. "We’ll work this out."

"You’re not gonna leave me?" the girl asked hopefully.

Seeing the ballsy, feisty Faith this needy, desperate, scared, made Xander’s blood boil. Again, he wished he was solid so he could go back to her home and see her mom and her mom’s wonderful boyfriend. And open a can of whup-ass on them. Forcing a smile, he shook his head. "’Course not, we’re a team."

The girl’s smile illuminated her face and almost the night. "Thanks. So," Faith licked her lips, "in the future, this hero, like what am I?"

"Um," Xander gnawed on his bottom lip, wondering what he could tell her. Deciding as this was a dream state, temporal rules didn’t apply, he began to talk, telling her all about Slayers, about the good stuff she’d done, carefully avoiding any mention of Finch, the Mayor, and prison.

Soon the girl was dancing around him as they walked, eyes sparkling with an intensity he recognised from seeing her in fights, but the beaming, innocent smile was new to him. At this age, she was still a little bit of a dreamer, all of her childhood hadn’t been ripped from her. Yet. "What’s up Xan?"

Shaking himself, he forced a smile. "Noth-." Hearing a disturbance, he looked to an alley to their left, the stench of effluence wafting out of it. "What’s that?"

Faith’s eyes grew fearful. "We don’t want any trouble."

"It’ll be alright," he soothed before running into the alley. After a second, he heard the girl’s footsteps behind him.

Entering the alley, he heard Faith gasp as they watched a vampire tear a man’s throat out. "W… what’s that?" a trembling voice queried.

"A vampire." He took a breath before continuing. "Faith, I know you're scared but Joe isn't a monster, he's just a sick prick that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near children. Faith, this is a monster, that creature there, feeding on those couple. That's a real monster. And he's what yo-"

He was interrupted by the small voice. "I hate them."

"Yeah," Xander smiled. "So do I. Faith, you need to believe me-"

He paused as the Slayer stepped past him, small hands clenched into fists, the little girl adopting a more confident stance. One definitely not designed for someone of such a tiny frame. "I fight them."

"With all your heart," Xander nodded, this wasn’t what he expected, but maybe this was an escape route for both of them. "That's right Faith. You fight monsters like that and being able to do that means that no prick like Joe will ever get a chance to hurt you ever again."

Small knuckles cracked as the fists clenched even tighter. "Never hurt again."

* * *

Faith sat up, sweat pouring off her, chest heaving with rasping breaths. God, going through that, she thought she’d never be clean again. "You’re awake!"

She gasped as Andrew tackled her in a hug, knocking her back down on the bed, any other guy and she’d be suspicious he was taking advantage. "Whoa, Andy," she wriggled free, looking left and right. Yeah it was her room in Cleveland, the Corbain posters gave it away. "Is everyone okay? Why isn’t Angel with me instead of you?"

Faith kicked herself at the hurt look that flickered across Andrew’s face. Ah fuck, she hadn’t meant it like that. "Everyone’s okay, Dana wouldn’t let Angel sit with either you or Xander while you were out cold."

"Damn that girl," Faith shook her head. She appreciated Dana’s devotion and loyalty, but she was a big girl, could take care of herself. "Well," she patted Andrew awkwardly on the shoulder, "thanks for sitting with me."

Andrew practically glowed at her praise. "You are my sensei."

"Yeah," Faith ventured a shaky grin, boy was nuts, "sure am grasshopper." She started to shove her covers off only to stop when she realised she was only in her panties and bra, "Andy, what happened to my clothes?"

"Um," Andy reddened and looked away. "You were in bed, I wanted you to be comfortable."

Faith raised an eyebrow. Maybe Andy wasn’t as gay as she’d thought.

* * *

"Look Dana why don’t you come with me," Angel broke off from arguing with the obstinate Slayer when the door to Faith’s room swung open and Dana’s even more mule-headed mentor walked out. "Faith! How are you!"

Faith winced. "Better at a lower volume, Angel." The brunette’s eyes filled with concern. "Xander?"

"He couldn’t wake before you, he had to follow you out."

"Damn fool man," Faith nodded before heading towards Xander’s room.

Angel dropped in beside her. "I’d have gone in, but Xander insisted."

Faith chuckled. "That’s Harris for ya, always wanting to save the girl. ‘Sides, girl needs variety, can’t just have one knight saving her." Faith stopped as they reached the door to Harris’s room, face sobering. "Wasn’t keen on ya feeding, right?" Angel nodded, the other reasons Xander had mentioned were his business, if the boy wanted to mention them to Faith, it was up to him. "He was right, if Angelus had turned up, you’re good," Faith winked at him. "But my girls were trained by the best."

"Oh yeah," Angel smirked. "When does the best turn up?"

He grunted as Faith punched him none too gently in the stomach. "Asshole," the girl scolded before opening the door and walking in.

* * *

"Faith!"

Faith hid a wince at the collective scream that went up as she entered X’s room, the Slayers gathered there charging her, grabbing her in a collective hug that had her gasping for air. "I might not have to breathe, but Faith does," Angel commented.

She nodded gratefully at the vampire when the girls sheepishly released their grip and stepped back. Faith grinned. "Yo, getting that pleased to see me, must be getting soft on ya," she joked to hide her emotion at the relief in her students’ eyes. All the searching she’d done, ever since she hit Sunnydale all those years ago, she’d finally got what she wanted, a family. Turning serious, she glanced towards X. He was still under. "Right," she looked at the younger Slayers. "Angel and Connor are gonna take training today-," seeing mouths open in protest, she stared levelly at her trainees. Their heads dropped in unison. "I’m gonna sit with X for a while, I’m still a little weak," she felt like a legged-dwarf could kick her ass right about now, "now get."

The moment the door closed behind the others. Faith slumped exhausted in the seat beside Harris’ bed, watching the man as he slept. And trying to keep her hearing intact, dude could snore. "Why you do it Harris?" she muttered. "All the shit I put you through, and you do a crazy fucking thing like that?"

After half an hour she still hadn’t received an answer. "Boy likes his sleep," Faith shook her head and rose. With her strength returning, she was feeling increasingly restless, but no way was she leaving here before X awoke, she was gonna be the first person he saw.

Bored, she began to mooch around the untidy room, noting with amusement the clothes scattered across the room. "You’d never have survived in Stockton," she muttered. But then, her grin slipped, Harris wasn’t likely to shove a stake through a guy’s chest. Seeing a CD rack, she crouched down beside it and began to investigate, nose wrinkling at what she found. "The Mavericks? Garth Brooks? Dixie Chicks? Shania Twain? This don’t impress me much."

"And of course Pearl Jam and Nirvana are so much better."

"Damn straight-." Faith spun around. "You’re awake!"

"Really?" Xander raised a quizzical eyebrow as he struggled up into a sat position. "Only with me it’s usually so hard to tell."

Faith ignored that. "I see ya still got ya clothes," she smirked. "Surprised those horn-dog girls didn’t take their opportunity to see if you’re a brief, boxers, or thong man. I mustn’t be teaching them well enough. Andy couldn’t wait with me, I woke up in my panties and bra. I’m gonna have to watch him."

Xander grinned through his blush. "Damn, I always sleep through the good stuff." Her Watcher’s face turned serious. "You okay, Faith?"

"Five by five," Faith hesitated. "X, why did you do that?"

Xander shrugged. "G-Man would have done it for Buff. You’re my Slayer."

"You might wanna stop judging yourself by G-Man or any other Watcher," she softly counselled. "Where I sit," she shrugged, "you’re doing five by five off your own bat."

"Thanks," now it was X-man’s turn to hesitate. "Don’t bite my head off, but…"

Faith waited for a second for the man to continue. When he didn’t she spoke. "But what, X?"

Despite the softness of her prompt, Xander gulped. "It wasn’t your fault. Guys like Joe who treated you like trash were the problem not you. You’re not trash."

"Thanks for the heads up, Harris," Faith smiled and stood. "I got that a few years ago, but it’s always nice to hear it from a stand-up guy like you." Striding across the floor, she cupped her hands around Xander’s face. After a long look into his single, remaining eye, she pressed her lips to his, eagerly working her tongue into his mouth.

Her eyes widened at the skilled massage he gave her tongue. Boy-toy had picked up some tricks. After a minute or so she pulled away with a gentle tousle of his hair.

Xander stared at her, eye widening and cheeks reddening. "W…what was that f…for?"

Faith shrugged, feeling more self-conscious than she’d ever felt in her life. "Last time you saved my ass, I fucked up saying thanks. So there you have it," she backed to the door. "Thanks."

Angel watched from the doorway as Faith pummelled one of the gym’s heavy bags with a blinding flurry of punches, chops, knees, head butts, and kicks. "Has that bag offended in you in some way?" he queried. "Because I’m pretty sure it’s sorry."

Faith stopped her workout and sprang back from the still swinging bag. After wiping away the sweat cascading down her forehead with the back of her hand, his protégée spoke. "Gotta get in shape if I’m gonna face Gellert." Faith scowled. "And I am gonna finish him."

Angel strode further into the basement before sitting on a near-by bench. "What is he like?"

Faith’s eyes shadowed. "He’s one scary fucker, Angel. Kaktosis, Caleb, fuck even the Beast, weren’t shit next to him." The beautiful young woman shuddered. "Next to him, the other guys I’ve faced were just a walk in the park." The brunette shook her head. "But I am gonna kill him."

Angel was more than a little disturbed by the intense rage in his friend’s eyes. London had been burnt to the ground by fires colder than them. "Faith, about your trip, you’ve recovered?"

After a second, the Slayer nodded. "Yeah, Xand got me out before it got bad." The Bostonian Slayer shook her head. "It was worse before, when I was in the room with just him and his two head goons. I thought," Faith licked her lips. "I thought the fucker was gonna turn me. And he would have ‘cept turning a Slayer takes time-."

"He said that?" Angel interrupted.

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "I didn’t get it all on being kinda outta it at the time, but his choices were kill me, but that would have been too quick," the east coast temptress shuddered, "turn me, but there’s some ceremony that would have given your bloodhound nose time to track me, or use the Nightmare."

"But you’re alright?"

"Yeah," Faith’s answering smile had a stretched quality to it, "five by five."

* * *

"I think it’s time we taught the Croc Dal who runs this city," Xander declared with a look around the briefing room.

"Damn straight," Faith confirmed with a nod, her agreement met with nods from the others packed into the conference room.

Angel didn’t add his agreement immediately. While he was as angry as anyone, and angrier than most, in the room at what Faith had undergone at Gellert’s hands, he knew that a vampire order, even one as powerful as Gellert’s, were nothing compared to Wolfram & Hart. But Gellert had hurt a member of his family. "What do you have in mind?" he queried, his tone held carefully neutral to indicate neither disapproval nor approval.

Xander glanced down at the papers before him. "Andrew," the young Watcher nodded towards the housekeeper has been helping Will build up a picture of Gellert’s empire-."

"A picture?" Angel queried.

"A financial record," Angel resisted the rampant temptation to roll his eyes at Andrew’s tone. Great, lectured by a simpleton. Telling himself it was part of his penance, he forced himself to listen. "It occurred to me that even vampires needed financial records if they own businesses. And if there’s a paper trail," the housekeeper’s face grew animated, "I might be able to track down all the other businesses owned by the Croc Dal."

Angel blinked. That was actually pretty smart. Maybe Andrew wasn’t the complete idiot he had originally thought.

"What ya find Andy?"

"Uh," Andrew blinked at Faith’s question before shuffling through the papers on the desk. "I tracked the den’s owners to a realtors in New Mexico. But that was just a front for a holding company in the Bahamas, which in turn was owned by another dummy corp in Lichtenstein, which was owned by an accountancy firm – Waterhouse Franklin-."

Something clicked in Angel’s head. "They’re a subsidiary owned by Wolfram & Hart," Angel put in. "If they discovered -."

"They didn’t," Andrew smirked, "as soon as I attempted to hack their computers I noticed their magic sigils and pulled out. They were way too powerful for me so I called in Willow. She got us in and we discovered that the Orpheus den belonged to a group of businesses called Crimson Red Enterprises."

"What did this Crimson Red Enterprises own?" queried Connor.

"Ah, a good question." Angel rolled his eyes at the boy’s self-important tone. "You have clearly inherited your esteemed father’s strategic mastery."

"Huh." Every one turned towards Xander at his snort. The Watcher smiled and shook his head. "Sorry, carry on."

After a nervous glance between the two of them, Andrew continued. "There are a total of 25 other businesses in Ohio and the surrounding states. Including a remaining four in this very state. They are," the housekeeper looked towards Faith, "another Orpheus den. The Brawl Hall – a demonic UFC. Mage’s Supply – a shop supplying all the illicit goods that a legitimate occultist wouldn’t touch. They even have-," the youth’s face paled at Xander’s glare. "And," the teen reddened, "Devil’s Pleasure, a demonic brothel."

"Demonic brothel? We had one of those in LA.," Angel commented.

"Dirty bastard."

Angel grimaced at Dana’s mutter and others’ collective stares. "It wasn’t like that-."

"I bet."

This time he ignored the suspicious Slayer. "A client of ours was being blackmailed about his patronage of the place," seeing the others’ less than convinced looks, he changed the subject. "This is all very interesting but what are we going to actually do."

Inevitably it was Xander who answered. "Tonight we’re going to split into two groups. You, Connor, Dana, Bree, and Penda, and me, Faith, and the other Slayers. We’re going to hit all of four of Gellert’s local businesses." Xander smirked. "Obviously you’re going to hit the brothel seeing as it’s your area of expertise."

Angel scowled at the sniggers that followed Harris’ comments. That was Harris alright, always the joker.

* * *

Xander smiled at the delicious smell of his bacon and egg sandwich, a guilty pleasure picked up in England. For a long, lip-slavering second he stared at the ‘butty’ as the English called it, savouring the trio of long, charcoaled rashers led across a liquidly egg. Then he snatched up the mustard and ketchup and soaked them over the bacon. After a beam at the condiment-lathered delight before him, he forked the sausage sizzling in the near-by pan, picked up the half slice of fried bread, and squashed both onto the top of the sandwich. Humming cheerfully, he picked up a second slice of thick white bread and stuck it on top.

"You’re disgusting you know?"

Xander turned at the slightly awed voice. He nodded at the slight figure in the doorway before turning back to his eagerly anticipated sandwich. "Hey Connor," he picked up his plate, "I’ve finished up if you want to use the kitchen."

"No, I wanted to talk to you about my dad."

Great. His appetite suddenly evaporated, he put his plate back down. Whenever he had an argument with a super-powered being about Deadboy, he always ended up with bruises. He glanced at Connor. At least the kid didn’t know him well enough to inflict emotional ones. So, just the physical beating. "Oh goody," he muttered before forcing a smile. "Look, Connor."

"Is it because of this Buffy?" pressed Connor.

Okay, Xander sighed, this was not going to be pretty. "Partially but not quite in the way you think. I was jealous that he got the girl." Xander admitted. "But it wasn’t just that. Not even close. I was always got the idea that Angel was only there for Buff. If Buffy died, he’d be off, leaving the rest of us to it." For him it had been different. That first year, before Cordelia, he’d loved Buffy sure, but more than that the world she’d introduced him to had given a purpose to his otherwise directionless life.

"He’s changed," Connor defended. "He cares about people. Fred, Gunn, Cordy, Wes-."

"They’re all dead."

Xander instantly regretted his bluntness. Pain flickered across the younger man’s face. "Faith isn’t. She’s not dead. And the summer Angel was missing, his friends took of his snot-nosed kid because they believed in Angel."

"I’m open-minded."

"Are you?" Connor raised a clearly sceptical eyebrow. "My memory’s Swiss-cheesed but I remember he cared about me when caring about me wasn’t the easy option. It would make it a lot easier for everyone if you just tried."

"But Angelus-."

The teen’s face sobered. "I know how evil he is," the hybrid interrupted. "And I’ll stand by you if it comes to that. Just give Angel a chance."

Xander stared at the younger man for a moment, judging his sincerity, before holding out his hand. "Deal."

* * *

"Are you okay, Faith?"

"Fine, Xan," Faith gritted her teeth, her polite tone forced as she continued to ready her weapons for the night’s mission. This was like the fourth person to ask her in the past half-hour, she wasn’t a freaking baby.

"Are you sure?" Xander stepped into her room, a concerned look on his face. "Only I came to give you a chance to back out if you want. I’d tell the others you need some more ti-."

"I SAID I’M ALRIGHT!" Faith exploded. Her heart dropped at Harris’ sudden paling and quick backstep to the door. "I’m sorry. I’m just wicked eager to get some payback, kick some demon ass. Get back in the saddle, you know?"

"Right, sure," her Watcher nodded even as he backed out of the room. "I’ll be downstairs with the others. No hurry. Whenever you’re ready."

"Xan!" Faith’s soft whisper bounced against the door the man had hurriedly closed behind him. "Damn him!" Faith cursed as she punched the wall. She thought after his walk through her past, Xan would get her more. Yeah, she had a wicked nasty temper, but she would never hurt X or the others. They were family, the only one she’d ever had.

* * *

"Are you al-, ready?"

Faith winced at her Watcher’s verbal stumble. The words were the first he’d spoken to her since they’d left the house. She glanced across the darkened alley snaking up to the noisy club. The Sunnydale native was partially hidden in the shadows, but even so she could see the tautness in his face. "Look X," she said. "I get that you care. I dig it, I really do. It’s just," Faith swallowed at the unpleasant memories, "back in Boston when a guy asked me if I was okay, he was looking for an angle, a way to get me on my back. You couldn’t look weak." Faith looked down at her feet. "I know you ain’t like that, but sometimes -."

"Old habits are hard to break?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "You caring’s a big deal to me."

"Although you make it hard," Xander sighed theatrically. "Slayers – pains in the ass, every one."

Faith half-grinned. "What about Watchers? Does the job come with a stick up the ass? And ya got your tweed PJs yet?"

"G-Man’s having them flown over next week." Xander looked towards the drugs den. Even at a distance the heavy rock blaring out was deafening. "Let’s go."

Faith swallowed as she looked towards the shabby building. "Sure." She pulled Xander’s arm over her shoulder and was surprised by the comfort she gained from it. "Decoy time."

Her fear increased as they neared the building, only her Watcher’s closeness and her own iron will preventing her from bolting. "Hey man!" Xander belched as he peered up at the two muscled giants stood tending door outside the club. "Clear the way!" her Watcher giggled drunkenly. "We’re here to P-A-R-T-Y!"

"Sorry man," one of the bouncers, a towering, goateed biker stepped into their path. "This place ain’t for the likes of you."

"But you," the other thug, a thickly-built Oriental leered at her. "You’ll fit right in, babe."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "That sounded like an insult. X?"

"I agree," her Watcher nodded.

"That case." Faith kicked the Oriental full in the groin, doubling him up. Grabbing the man’s swinging pony-tail; she propelled him into the side of the club, the back of his head smashing into the wall. "I better stake him." Before the man had chance to recover, she drew and powered her stake home.

Heart still thumping with the thrill of battle, she spun around to see how her companion was doing. Her mouth dried at the sight that greeted her. "Man, that is so hot," she breathed.

X was bobbing and weaving around the looming demon, ducking and slipping inside its wild haymakers, blocking other blows on his arms and shoulders. At the same time, Xander replied with a devastating flurry of hooks, crosses, and uppercuts to the monster’s face and body. He had the demon totally and utterly out-classed.

Except, she could sense the demon’s age and the vampire’s far superior endurance, speed, and strength would inevitably see him to victory regardless of her bud’s skill. Even worse, he’d never get the chance to pull out his stake. Stepping forward, she reached up, grabbed a hold of the demon’s filthy collar and yanked it backwards, onto her stake. Faith grinned through the demon’s dust. "Pretty smooth, X," she realised she’d never seen X use his boxing skills in a real fight before. Faith glanced towards the club. "Ya reckon anyone heard anything?"

"Over that racket?" X shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Yeah, that’s what I figured." Faith nodded before reaching into her jacket, withdrawing her cell, and texting the others. Once she’d got a confirmatory text, she looked towards her Watcher. "Shall we?" A stern look on his face, Harris nodded. "Wicked." Faith stepped towards the bar. Her heel smashed into the door ripping it off its hinges and propelling it into the darkened room beyond. "Yo!" Faith yanked the wires out of the jukebox by the door, killing the sound, before smiling at the shocked bar. "We’re the vermin police. I understand ya got an infestation?"

And then the bar exploded into violence.

* * *

"Ouch! Oww!"

"Damn Harris," Faith sauntered into the dimly lit bathroom. "You’re an ever-living fool ain’t ya?"

"I was trying," the man winced as he tried to clean the cut on his forehead, "to help you."

"And how does ya headbutting a beer bottle help me?" Faith asked.

"I was trying to catch it before it hit you!"

"Great job," Faith scoffed before turning serious. Grabbing the man’s elbow, she guided him over to the side of the bath. "Sit down, let me look at it." Xand just stared at her. "When I was inside I did a couple of first aid courses as part of my rehabilitation."

"Uh, okay." Xander sat down.

Crouching down, Faith peered at the wound. It looked worse than it was, she decided. Taking a pair of steel tweezers out of the first aid box, she washed them under the hot tap before reaching into the cut and deftly pulling out the two slivers of glass she saw there. That accomplished, she poured some antiseptic onto a cotton bud and deftly swabbed the narrow cut. "OWWW!" Xander jerked his head back. "That hurt!"

"Don’t be such a," Faith grabbed the back of Xander’s head, holding him still, "baby."

"Yes, ma’am," her Watcher sarcastically replied.

"Ma’am?" Faith arched an eyebrow as she continued to work. "Call me that again and I won’t just sow this cut shut. Hell, the girls would probably take up a collection if I made it so they didn’t have to listen to your lame-ass jokes any more."

"Lame ass-."

"Shut up, Harris." Faith warned before picking up a needle, sterilising, and putting a thread through it. "This will hurt a bit." Xander hissed but remained still as she sewed the cut shut, Slayer nimbleness and plenty of practice working in the prison infirmary meaning she’d soon closed the wound.

"Thanks." Xander paused. "As Angel rung in?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded, "targets destroyed." Xander let out a relieved sigh. "Now," Faith continued. "Get your top off."

Her Watcher coloured. "What?"

"After that bottle smashed into your head, ya hit the ground like a stone," Faith pointed out. "And I had to drag you out from under three vamps kicking the crap outta ya. Top off, now."

X sighed at her stern tone. "Okay," the man raised his arms and winced, "I might need some help." The Sunnydaler paled when she produced a knife. "No way, this is my best shirt!"

"Ya got one eye, right?" Faith sniffed at her Watcher’s vomit-coloured Hawaiian shirt even as she gleefully cut it off. "Be a man. Don’t cry," she jokingly scolded. Faith winced at the sight that greeted her. "Shit, Harris."

The man’s right shoulder, where he’d first hit the ground, was a discoloured mess. He’d taken a couple of heavy hits to the chest, but worse was his stomach, there was barely any white flesh left. Faith peered over the man’s shoulders; there were a couple of bruises on his back too, but thankfully nowhere near his kidneys. "Dude, you are so going to the ER." Dumbass, she should have taken him there straight after the fight, but he had to play at macho.

"No, no." Faith looked back at her Watcher to see the suddenly pale-faced Watcher firmly shaking his head. "Last time I went to one of these places," the founding Scooby shuddered, "I ended up getting the rest of my eye scoped out."

"That’s dum-," Faith shook her head. Trouble was, she knew ‘xactly how the Californian felt. She’d gotten sick of the smell of the places as a kid, whenever her mom had taken her in after one of her ‘falls’. And since her coma, the fear had only grown, ensuring she avoided the places like a Barry Manilow concert. Or an Angel sing-a-thon, it was hard to say which was worse.

But on the other hand, she had Slayer-healing. "K," Faith compromised. "But I’ll have to patch you up. And you’re on bed rest for the next few days."

Xander half-grinned. "Yes, nurse."

Faith smirked. "You think I’m wearing the outfit you’re in fucking dream-land." Turning serious, Faith ran her fingers over X’s bruises, checking him for any possible internal injuries, muttering apologises for every pained gasp. Finally satisfied there wasn’t anything serious, she quickly bandaged the Watcher up. "Let’s get ya to your room," she said, helping Harris to his feet and pulling his uninjured arm around her. "You can lean on me, X."

* * *

"And all four businesses are destroyed?"

"Yes, sire."

"Uh," his temper rising, Geller drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. "And how many vampires did we lose?"

The messenger swallowed before replying. "Thirty three."

The messenger stepped back at his growl. Forcing his temper under control, he spoke again. "And that leads me with how many minions." His subordinate licked his lips. "Answer!" he thundered.

"Sixteen, mi’ lord."

Gellert’s muscles tensed and writhed as he struggled to control his rage. The urge to rip apart the quaking vampire stood before him was almost too much. But this demon was his childe, a smart two hundred year old vampire by the name of Drake, and he hadn’t been involved in any of the disasters. "Get out!" he roared. Eyes narrowed, he watched his minion scurry out. Every one of the Slayers was going to pay. "Oh Faith," he laughed hoarsely. "The Nightmare was easy compared to what I’ll do to you, now."

* * *

Solomon Emory read the morning’s reports, lips pursed in thought. Harris’ group appeared to have been diverted from his organisation, a happy circumstance that he doubted would last. It was fortunate, he smiled to himself, that he had a plan to deal with the troublesome group. "No half-measures."

"M…mr. Emory," he looked up to the entrance of his expansive office, the largest in the thirty-five floor building. His personal assistant was stood there, the normally glacially-poised blonde looking wild-eyed and flustered, her pleasingly lithe body twitching uncontrollably. "Y….your ten o’clock is here."

"Excellent," Emory smiled. "Be a dear and send him in."

The bulky figure that entered was around five and a half feet tall, clad from head to foot in a grey cloak. Its square-jawed face’s most distinguishing feature was its single yellow eye that stared unblinkingly at him. Its most dangerous feature were the knuckles of its gnarly, three-fingered hands had barbed spikes protruding from them. "Feed me," the monster growled.

"All in good time." A Hshuma. Emory’s smile widened. No wonder his secretary was such a mess. Mr. Harris and his companions were soon going to find out what a burden their consciences were.

Xander stood nervously watching the lone figure annihilate the punch bag in a blindingly and unrelenting attack. He had the uneasy feeling that some time soon, say in the next five minutes, he’d be taking the bag’s place.

The practising combatant spun to face him. "Xander."

"Hey." After taking a breath, he walked over to the impassive figure. "I was thinking." He swallowed; his audience of one raised an enquiring eyebrow. "If we’re to have a fresh start I’ve gotta come clean." He paused again. This was a very bad idea. "When Buff sent you to hell, I knew that Will was going to try to ensoul you, but didn’t tell her. I mean Buff, because obviously Will alre-," his voice trailed off.

"I know."

"You know?" Xander blinked at the vampire’s calmness. "How did you know? Why didn’t you say anything? Rip my arms off-," he gulped, "not that I’m suggesting you should of course."

Angel chuckled. Which was surprising but a hopeful sign that his life-span wasn’t measured in the seconds. "When I took over at W&H, out of interest I read everyone’s files in Files & Records, it was all down there. As to why I didn’t say anything?" the demon shrugged. "I owed you for saving Buffy in the hospital. It wouldn’t have helped anyone me coming after you for the past." The Irish vampire stared at him, eyes boring through him. "I would be real interested in why you decided to lie. Was it to get with Buffy?"

"What? NO! I was with Cordy!" Xander flushed when the demon raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so I cheated on her with Will," he admitted. "But I’m not going to send someone to hell because I’m jealous!"

Angel stared at him for a long second before nodding. "I guess not. Why then?"

"I figured if I told Buff the truth, she wouldn’t go all-out against Angelus and she’d get killed. But," Xander licked his lips. Even after all these years the memory still curdled his stomach. "Most of all whenever Buffy and Willow talked about re-soulling you, all I could see was Miss Cal-."

"Calendar." Angel finished for him, the undead Irishman’s face taut.

"Yeah."

There was a long, uneasy silence. Xander blinked when Angel stuck out a hand. "It took a man to come here and confess, Xander."

Xander stared at the proffering hand for a moment before tentatively taking and shaking it. "Thanks."

* * *

"Ya did good, kid!" Faith praised as she threw a beaming Dana her bottle of spring water. While her student took a hungry gulp of the drink, Faith looked around the darkened park they’d just run ten laps around.

"Faith, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, hon," Faith grinned at her protégé. Once a week, she’d make sure her and Dan got some alone time to give the kid a chance to talk shit through in private. Plus she just loved looking after the younger Slayer and was wicked proud of the progress her fellow brunette had made.

Dana shot her a brief smile before starting a highly familiar agitated walk that she always used when summonsing the courage to speak about something painful or embarrassing. Finally her fellow Slayer stopped and turned to her, dark eyes filling with pain. "Do you ever forget about the bad stuff you’ve done?"

Oh shit, Faith winced, a big one. Faith nodded towards a near-by bench. "Grab a seat, kiddo." Once they’d sat down, Faith began to talk, her voice taut with emotion. "If ya wanna be a good person ya can’t ever forget the bad shit you’ve done ‘cause that’s the first step to doing it again." Faith glanced at her intently listening companion. "But ya gotta cling to the fact ya ain’t that person any more. Angel says," Faith ignored Dana’s tensing at the mention of her mentor and best friend, "the great thing about atonement is you never run out of chances."

"You know about guys don’t you?"

"I’ve ‘known’ the odd one or hundred," Faith dryly replied. "What’s the sitch?" Faith grinned at her fellow Slayer before grabbing and tickling her. "Got your eye on a stud, uh? Does Andy know how ya feel?"

Dana giggled. "NOOO! Connor!" her fellow Slayer blushed. "I like him a lot, but I get scared sometimes -."

"On account of the past?" Dana nodded. Faith gently tousled the younger girl’s raven-dark hair. "Yeah, it can be wicked scary facing up to the past, but if ya don’t at least try then the bastard who killed your family and hurt you still wins. If ya find someone ya care about then ya should give them a chance. ‘Sides, Conn’s a good guy and he’d take wicked care of ya. And if he doesn’t," Faith bumped her friend with her hip, "we’ll take turns laying the smacketh down Slayer-style, am I right?"

"Right," Dana nodded and smiled slightly. "Are you gonna ask Mr. Harris out?"

Faith gaped. From the painful to the tricky to the downright unexpected, Dana’s attention sure jumped around. "Why would ya think that?"

Dana flushed. "’Cause of the way you look at him sometimes, like you just want to hold him."

"You’re crazy, kid, me and X aren’t like that." Faith shook her head. "Too much in the past, ya know?"

"No," Dana shook her head. "You just said how you should give people a chance."

Faith forced a smile before ruffling the other Slayer’s hair. "Love stuff ain’t me, kid. I got my buds-."

"You’re lying." Faith glared at the other Slayer. Dana flinched but continued. "You do care about him," she accused, "but you’re scared of him because of the past, you can’t move on like you said I should!" Faith opened her mouth to defend herself, but Dana continued on over her. "But you can’t hurt Mr. Harris," the other girl earnestly warned, "he’s my friend too, he gave me chances."

"Hey," Faith crouched down in front of her fellow Slayer, cupping her face in her hands. "I just told ya, X, everybody is my crew. And what’s rule no. 1?"

"You don’t hurt crew."

"Damn straight." Faith stood. "Now how about we head home before they send out a search party?" Dana nodded, rose, and raced off. After a shake of her head, Faith followed her. Damn, now she’d have to do something about X if only to stop Dana bitching about him. "Oh no, my life’s not complicated."

* * *

Amy shivered as she left her twice monthly meeting. Sunnydale had only been a small town, even allowing for it being the nexus of demonic activity, there was a limit to the amount and variety of demons that could live there. But with Cleveland being a much larger city and the new hellmouth, the demonic and mystical population was considerably larger and far more diverse.

Including magic recovery groups. Amy gritted her teeth. She hated attending the meetings, but loathed the thought of becoming her mother far, far more.

"Hey!" she cried out in outrage when a short but bulky figure barged into her. "Watch where you’re going!" The figure grunted but continued on his way. "I miss California!" she muttered as she glared over her shoulder at the departing figure before continuing home.

Her foul mood persisted all the way home. Upon entering the house via the back door, she found an exasperated looking Faith explaining to an animated Andrew why the Star Wars light-sabre fights couldn’t be adapted to sword-fighting lessons. Faith glanced across at her entry, shooting her one of the brunette’s trademark searching looks. "Ya five by five, Ams?" Amy nodded. Faith stared at her for a long second before shrugging and turning back to her argument. "Slayers don’t have Jedi powers, Andy. Shit Skywalker does won’t fly in the real world."

"Although," Xander walked in through the kitchen door, smiling at her en-route to opening the fridge and taking out a soda can, "I’m giving definite consideration to tabling a proposal for Slayers to be issued with Princess Leia bikinis."

"Yeah? Nice idea," Faith arched an eyebrow and licked her lips. "Ya want maybe I give ya a private showing?" Xander reddened. Faith smirked and chuckled throatily before giving Andy a friendly punch on the arm. "Just you and me then, Andy?" The shy cook reddened.

"I would be interested," Xander suddenly interrupted, "but I’m already booked to take Dana for her fitting, right Dana?" The younger Slayer blushed, giggled, and looked down at Xander’s teasing.

"Night everyone," Amy yawned, suddenly tired. As she walked out of the kitchen, she passed Connor heading in, doubtless on some pretence to see Dana. The two of them were so obvious.

* * *

"Night Ams," Faith joined the others in sitting down at the kitchen table, basking in the comfortable warmth of being with her buds. As the conversation shifted from Star Wars to the possibility of using Matrix fighting styles, Faith found herself studying Xander’s looks.

He didn’t have the bad-boy edge of Wes, the ruggedness of Angel, or even G’s Cary Grant smoothness. Instead, it had a good-natured charm. It was a face that practically screamed trust me, I’ll look after you. And when you’d never had a guy who really cared about you, it was a hell of a pull.

"Something on my face, Faith?"

Faith blinked when she realised she’d been caught staring at an amused-looking Xander. Conscious of the others’ looks, she thought quickly. "Nah, I was just thinking Dana’s bound to suggest adding the Rock-Bottom to Slayer-training."

"The Rock rules!" Dana defended.

"Oh yeah, and it wouldn’t be his pecs you’re into?" Faith smirked at Dana’s confirming. "You’re so busted, missy!" Faith glanced at Connor. "If I was you Conn, I’d hit the gym and hard." Her smirk widened at Dana and Connor’s stuttering denials and Andy and Xan’s laughter. Oh yeah, family ruled.

* * *

"Yo, X!" Faith hollered as she walked into the kitchen to find Xander and Andrew busy putting the week’s groceries away. "Either of ya two seen Ams this morning?"

"No," Xander shot her an irritated look even as he continued to place the assorted tins, bottles, and packets into the cupboards. "She was meant to drive Andrew to the mall this morning but never showed. I had to take him instead." Xander’s disgusted expression said all Faith needed to know about X’s thoughts on the matter.

"And no one thought to check on her?" Faith pressed.

Xander stopped his unpacking to look directly at her, his expression somewhere between frustration and thinly veiled amusement. "Fair Faith, lest you forget, I grew up around girls. And one thing I learnt fast is I’d rather face Angelus than wake a sleeping woman."

"Funny guy," Faith shook her head. "Considering you’re out fearless leader, you really are a chickenshit. I’ll go check on her."

Faith sauntered upstairs and towards the living quarters. Normally she wouldn’t have worried about the formerly wayward Wicca, but last night Amy had seemed somehow off. If she was ill or something, it would be best to get her to the doc’s soon as. "Yo Ams!" she called out as she came to a stop outside the witch’s door. Worry growing, she opened the door and crept inside.

"Damn!" Faith rushed over to the writhing figure on the bed, sweat beading down the witch’s face, eyes wild and unfocused. "Ams, what’s wrong?"

"I won’t be her!" Amy screamed, spittle flying out of her mouth. "Won’t be her!"

"Who Amy?" Faith put a comforting hand on the witch’s shoulder.

"DON’T TOUCH ME BITCH!"

"Shit!" Faith screamed as a concussive blow slammed into her, lifting her off her feet, and flinging her into the wall behind. Head ringing, she slid down the wall, disbelieving eyes fixed on the witch. Legs shaky, she pulled herself up on the wall, grateful that the Sunnydaler appeared to have forgotten about her, ‘cause round 2, really not looking forward to it.

Once she’d edged out of the room, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen. "X! We got a big problem!"

Xander shot her a wry glance. "I’m pretty sure we’ve got enough Pop Tarts for both you and Andrew. No crisis."

"I’m serious X, Ams is wicked ill."

Xander shot Andrew a worried look. "Explain on the way."

* * *

"Do you think I should ask Dana out?"

Angel glanced at Connor. "She hates me. And you’re 18, you don’t have to ask my permission to do anything. Not that you ever did. Why exactly are you asking me?"

Connor shrugged. "You’ve dated a Slayer."

Angel gaped at his son’s logic. As Xander would say, it did not resemble earth-logic. "Dana and Buffy aren’t exactly similar."

"I don’t know, she dated you, not exactly a great sign of good mental health. And I should know."

Angel shook his head and smiled. The old Connor was always so stiff and humourless, he’d made Angel look like a circus clown. But his new son was more than eager to take cheap shots at him. It took time to get used to, but his boy was happier than he’d ever been and that was the important thing. "My advice is simple, treat Dana right. If you don’t-."

"Faith will cut me up into little bits and bury each one in a different state."

"I was going to say be really pissed, but that’s also an option," Angel smiled at his son. "Not that I’m worried, I know you’ll do the right thing.

"Thanks-," his son scowled. "They look worried."

"Yeah," Angel agreed as he noted the trio of Faith, Xander, and Andrew heading towards them. "What’s up?"

"Something’s up with Ams," Faith explained, her tone short.

"Like what?" he pressed before falling in alongside the Slayer and her companions.

"We’re not sure," Xander admitted.

Angel nodded. In seconds, they were in the witch’s room, watching her contort and thrash about even as she screamed unintelligibly. Eyes widening, Angel leapt towards Faith, catching the suddenly convulsing Slayer as she fell to the ground. "Angel!" Xander was by him in an instance. "What’s wrong?"

"I don’t know," he replied, eyes fixed on the shaking Slayer and her foaming mouth. "I heard her heartbeat suddenly rise, and smelt something off about her. When I looked towards her, I saw her legs go."

The young Watcher looked between Amy and Faith, his eye anguished. Finally Xander spoke. " You and Connor take her to her room. We’ll stay here with Amy."

Angel nodded before carrying the lithe brunette, out of the room, Connor following close behind. "I’m sorry boss!" Faith screamed, eyes briefly focussing. "I tried but she beat me!"

"Dad," Connor spoke up from behind. "What’s wrong with her?"

"I don’t know." From what Buffy and Faith had separately told him, he understood what she was shouting about, but had no clue why she’d be shouting it now. Stopping outside the Slayer’s room, Angel looked towards his son. "Get the door."

"Sure," Connor shoved the door open.

"Thanks," Angel nodded gratefully before carrying the shaking Slayer into the room and easing her down on the bed.

The moment Faith’s head touched the pillow she sprang into action. Her hand blurred to the bedside table, snatching up at a pair of nail scissors, and stabbing at her face.

"No Faith!" Angel grabbed at the scissors, yanking them from the Bostonian’s hand. "Owwwww!" he briefly morphed out when the Slayer raked her nails down his face, drawing blood. Grabbing the Slayer’s wrists he pinned her to the bed, grateful for her lack of focus, otherwise in this mood he’d be kicked across the room. "Connor! Get me the cuffs from the basement!" he grunted as the Slayer almost wriggled free. "Hurry!"

By the time his son returned, Angel’s muscles had begun to cramp with the effort of restraining the raging beauty. "Thanks!" he flipped Faith onto her back. "Fasten her right wrist to her left ankle, cut down on her leverage."

Once Faith was secured, Angel let out a relieved sigh, stood, and stepped back from the bed. "Thanks Conno-."

"What the hell!" A hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him around. A furious looking Xander threw a right hook at his jaw.

Angel caught the fist in his left hand before snatching a hold of his attacker’s throat, lifting him off the floor, and slamming him into the wall. "Look at my face!" he growled. "Faith went nuts, tried to hurt herself! I had to restrain her!"

After a second, Xander nodded. "Okay, I can see that. Sorry."

Taking a breath, Angel placed the Watcher back on the floor, and nodded shortly. "It’s okay. You did it because you care. Just think a little in the future."

* * *

"What do they all have in common?" Angel queried as he paced the lounge, stomach churning. In the last few hours since Faith’s collapse, Dana, Xander, Connor, and Andrew had all followed suit, all having to be restrained to prevent self-harm.

"They’re all super-powered?" Dae suggested. "No," the Oriental Slayer shook her head. "Xander and Andrew aren’t."

"They’ve all been in contact with Amy since she came home last night," Penda suggested.

"So have I," Breena put in. "I passed her in the hall last night, but I’ve not come down with anything."

"They’re all from Sunnydale?" Astrid suggested.

"Connor’s never even been there," Angel replied.

"Perhaps we should be looking at a cause?" A wide-eyed Penda put in. "Maybe we should contact Mr. Giles?"

"No." Angel shook his head. He couldn’t face the Englishman, not after what he’d done. "I’ll be in the kitchen, getting some blood."

* * *

There was a long, scared silence following the vampire’s exit, everyone staring helplessly at one another. Then Breena grinned as an idea occurred. Leaping to her feet, she rushed into the kitchen. "Angel, what if we record everything they’re saying that might-," her voice trailed off and eyes widened when she realised the Irish demon was levelling a pencil at his own heart. "Angel! No!"

"Beejesus!" Breena leapt into the air, single-hand vaulting the kitchen counter en-route to kicking the deranged vampire full in the face. The demon growled and vamped out as he flew into the wall behind.

The vamped out demon threw a right hook that smashed into Breena’s forehead. Dazed by the ferocious blow, she still managed to roundhouse kick the pencil out of his hand before stumbling backwards, her butt hitting the counter but was helpless to avoid a backhand slap to the mouth, her mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. The still growling vampire lunged at her, leading with a leaping heel kick.

Breena crouched down, allowing the attack to fly over her head. Grabbing the enraged demon’s foot by the ankle, she threw him over her shoulder, and into the kitchen cupboard above the sink.

The cupboard imploded with the impact of the vampire crashing into it, door torn from its hinges, shelves, and contents likewise plummeting to the tiled floor. "Ach, Andrew gonna kill me," Breena muttered as she surveyed the damage. "If I live through this."

That unsettling thought uppermost in her mind, Breena leapt back over the counter to be met by another thudding right to the face that burst open a cut over her left eye. Stunned, she was helpless to prevent the maddened vampire from grabbing her around the throat, choking her as he lifted her into the air with a frightening ease, his other hand smashing repeatedly into her ribs.

Breena responded with a kick to Angel’s face, knocking the back of the Irish demon’s head into the demolished cupboard. The vampire roared in pain before throwing her into the wall by the door, the impact of her collision knocking the clock off the wall. Seeing the vampire advancing on the dropped pencil, Breena grabbed the round clock from under her and flung it like a Frisbee at the demon’s head.

Even as the makeshift missile crashed into the vampire, knocking him to one knee, the kitchen door flew open, and Breena’s fellow Slayers rushed in. "Grab him!" Breena screamed. "he’s been infected!"

Penda was first to reach the Irish demon, braids swinging as his elbow thudded into her forehead. Despite that, the African Slayer grabbed Angel around the waist, placed a foot behind the demon’s legs, and flung him backwards, crashing onto the stove. Howling in pain, the demon retaliated by grabbing a saucepan and hitting Penda with it.

The African Slayer grunted but grabbed the demon’s arm, restraining it even as Dae rushed in with the cupboard door and smashed it into the demon’s forehead, knocking him to the ground. In an instant, all of the Slayers bar Breena were on the wildly struggling vampire. "Well done," Breena praised as she got to her feet, body aching from the battering she’d took. "I’ll go get some restraints."

* * *

"W….what are we going to do?"

Breena looked around her fellow Slayers, seeing the panic she felt reflected in her friends’ faces. They’d managed to secure Angel but were no closer to finding out what had happened to them all. Except, Breena pursed her lips together, as she remembered her idea from before Angel had joined the rest of them in the looney bin. "Guys, go check on Xander, Faith, Dana, Connor, Andrew, and Angel. Check their restraints and make a note of what they’re ranting about, that might give us a clue." Breena stood. "I’ll check on Amy."

"You can’t take her gag off, she might cast-."

"I know," Breena waved off Dae’s wide eyed objections. "But I have to make sure her restraints haven’t loosened." Breena looked expectantly at the others. "And then we’ll ring Mr. Giles for help. Now, what are you all waiting for?"

Breena sighed as she entered the witch’s bedroom. This was so hard, so scary, like being a kid at their first day at school. But they had to be strong, all of them, Mr. Harris, Faith, and the others had all helped them, now it was their turn to return the favour.

Walking over to the writhing witch, she tugged gingerly on the ropes fastened to her wrists, stopping as she noticed a grey sigil on her wrist. "What’s that?" Pulling out her cell, she flipped it open, and easily pinned the convulsing mage to the bed with one hand before taking a photo of the strange marking. "I’ll have to show this to Mr. Giles!" she muttered as she ran out of the room.

* * *

"And furthermore," Giles glanced at his notes, cursing the fates as he did so. Monthly account meetings, if he’d known what a pain in the arse managing the Council would be he’d have presented his neck to the first Bringer he’d run into back in Sunnydale. "If we buy -." He groaned as his mobile went off, the opening bars to ‘Strange Brew’ triumphantly playing. Flipping it open, he growled a greeting. "Hello?"

"M…mr Giles, we need help."

Giles searched for the name of the vaguely recognisable voice. After a second he had it. "Breena?" his heart leapt into his throat. "Is there something wrong with Xander?"

"Yes-."

"Please dear, just give me a moment." Covering the phone with his palm, he looked towards his companions. "Ladies, gentlemen. I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone." Without waiting for consent or disagreement, he walked out of the meeting. "I’m sorry, dear," he apologised into the phone as he hurried down the corridor heading towards his office. "Please continue."

"Last night," Giles noted the poor girl sounded terrified, "Ms.. Madison came home from her magic meeting. This morning she didn’t get up so Faith went to see her and found her ill in bed. The others went to check on her and then Faith collapsed too. Then Dana, Connor, Andrew, Xander, and lastly Angel did the same over the past day."

"And what are symptoms?" Giles shoved his office door open and hurried inside, sitting down on his leather-upholstered chair.

"They all scream and try to hurt themselves. We’ve had to tie them all up. They’re unaware of their surroundings and cry constantly."

"And why have you waited until now to contact us?"

"Angel wouldn’t let us," the Irish Slayer explained timidly. Giles scowled, bloody vampire. "There’s one other thing too." His phone beeped. "I’ve sent you a photo of a tattoo I found on Amy’s wrist that wasn’t there before all this started."

"Most enterpr-." Giles’ voice trailed off and his stomach hollowed as he inspected the photograph. This was bad, very bad. "I don’t suppose," Giles was pleased when his voice didn’t tremble, the girl didn’t need the extra pressure of knowing just how worried he was, "you happened to take a note of what they were screaming?"

"Yes, Mr. Giles. I had the others make a note-."

"Well done dear," Giles praised. "Now, if you don’t mind?"

"Uh," Giles heard the sound of rustling paper. "Faith was screaming about a finch. Andrew about a Jonathan and a Katrina. Dana about a whole bunch of people. Connor about someone called Jasmine. Mr. Harris about someone called Sweet," Giles grimaced at that less than glorious memory, "and Angel called out for a Kate and Jenny."

Giles winced at the memory even as he realised the screams confirmed what he’d feared. Which meant neither he nor Willow could go and help, lest they be infected. He shuddered at the thought of the damage an infected Willow could do. It also explained why Angel wouldn’t allow him to be contacted.

Gathering his thoughts, he began to plan. "Has Detective Lockley been contacted?"

"Yes sir, she’s on her way over."

"Excellent, excellent, you’re doing wonderfully," Giles soothed. "Here’s what I want you to do. I’ll be sending an agent over to assist you, but until then I want you to stay in and guard the others. No patrolling-."

"W…what if we get infected too?"

Giles winced at how young and scared the Irish girl sounded. This was a lot to lay on her inexperienced shoulders. "Dear," he soothed. "The demon who has infected Xander and the others is a Hshuma demon. They feed on people’s guilt for the evil they have, mistakes they have ma-."

"Mr. Harris would never do anything wrong!"

Giles chuckled softly at the Irish Slayer’s hotly-stated loyalty. "Xander is only human, my dear," he gently reproved. "Even he has made mistakes. You and your fellow Slayers aren’t under any danger, anything you’ve done is too insignificant to allow for infection. If you look after them until my agent arrives, she’ll help you affect a cure."

"Yes sir. How will we know her?"

"Her name is Lady Patricia Milton-Snipes." Giles pursed his lips together. "And the password will be ‘Ripper’. Now, if there aren’t any more questions?"

"No, sir."

"Then I’ll leave you to it. You’re doing a fine job, Breena."

"Thank you sir." There was a click as the girl hung up.

Giles stared at the mobile for a long moment before calling up a number from its memory. After about ten rings the phone was answered. "Hello," purred an upper-class voice, "Lady Patricia speaking."

"Hello," all at once Giles felt like a callow youth again, "it’s Rupert -."

"Ah!" Lady Patricia exclaimed. "Rupert! It’s been much too long! And how are you and Miss. Rosenberg?"

"We’re both fine, thank you," he replied to the woman who’d mentored both he and Willow through their darkest times. "However I do have a situation that I would be more than grateful for your assistance with." He summarised the Cleveland crisis in a few short sentences.

After he’d finished there was a few moments of silence before England’s premiere white witch and leader of the Devon Coven spoke. "A Hshuma, eh? Interesting. Add an opportunity to meet the renowned Xander Harris and the enigmatic Faith Lehane, and you have me hooked." Giles let out a relieved sigh. "You have my fax number, correct?" The noblewoman carried on before he had chance to reply. "Please send me all the relevant information at once. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve got it."

* * *

"I’ll get that!" Kate volunteered at the sound of knocking at the front door, grateful for the opportunity to flee from the feeding of the contaminated. Before any one had chance to protest she’d bolted from the room and rushed to the entrance.

Opening the door she found a tall, thin regal-looking woman in her late sixties with a commanding air stood on the porch. "Ah," without waiting for an invitation the woman strode imperiously inside. "Too old for a Slayer. You must be Detective Lockley," the woman sniffed, "the vampire’s friend. I’m Lady Patricia Milton-Snipes, sent by Rupert Giles. The password is ‘Ripper’. Now," the fearsome battle-axe stared searchingly at her, "if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to see Miss. Madison."

"Uh, sure," Kate muttered, strangely cowed by the Englishwoman. "Follow me."

"Thank you, dear."

* * *

Breena looked up as the door to Amy’s room swung open and a dazed-looking Detective Lockely led in a scary-looking older woman in a long-flowing dress. "You and you," the older woman snapped at Penda and Astrid, my bags are in the hallway, take them to a spare room!" The woman raised an eyebrow when neither girl moved. "What, Slayers can’t follow simple instructions now? Shoooo!"

Both girls bolted from their room. Breena gulped when the woman turned her forbidding gaze on her. "You’re Breena Murphy, correct?" the grey-haired woman snapped. Breena nodded. "A mute Slayer, interesting. Now, where’s this tattoo you noticed?"

Breena crouch down beside Amy’s body, pulled up her sleeve and pointed. "There it is."

The aging woman crouched down beside her with a long drawn-out groan, produced a pair of reading glasses from within her jacket, and put them on. After a second the woman nodded. "Yes, it’s the sigil of a Hshuma. You did well to spot it Miss Murphy, well done."

Breena’s cheeks burnt. "It’s nothing," she mumbled.

"Miss Murphy," Lady Patrica shot her a withering glance. "I seldom give praise and only when it’s deserved. Please do me the courtesy of accepting it."

"Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am," Breena meekly apologised. After a second she continued, her tone carefully respectful. "What’s a Hshuma?"

"A particularly nasty demon," the noblewoman replied. "They feed the guilt of good people who have made mistakes, driving them insane in the process."

"But there’s a cure?" Dae asked.

Lady Patrica’s answering smile gave her lined face a surprising radiance. "Indeed there is, indeed there is." The witch turned businesslike. "So what are we waiting for? Let’s get a move on!"

* * *

Lady Patrica inwardly smiled as she watched the Slayers scurry around obeying her barked orders. As a white witch of the highest order, she could sense emotions, and there was a lot of love in this building. And even if she couldn’t sense the feelings, the amount of concern the Slayers had for their fallen companions gave it away. Family, a simple word but with such power.

"Lady Patricia?" It was the black girl, or was there some other politically correct term, she was too busy actually doing good to worry about some liberal tree-hugger’s hurt feelings, Penda, that was her name. "You said you wanted the bodies laid out in the garden?" she nodded impatiently, unwilling to repeat herself. "W….well it’s daytime. And Mr. Angel is a vampire?"

"Really?" she arched an eyebrow. "I hadn’t noticed. Think dear child," Lady Patricia shook her head. "Cover him with a blanket."

"Oh," the African-born Slayer looked shame-faced, "yeah, I should have thought."

The ebony-skinned Slayer turned to rush off. "Penda." The teen turned back to her. "Remember being a Slayer isn’t always about being stronger or faster than your opponent. Sometimes it’s about being smarter. Your brain’s a weapon too, next to your heart the strongest of them all."

"Yes, ma’am," the teen nodded, her braids rattling, "thank you, ma’am."

Lady Patricia shook her head as the Slayer rushed off. "The youth today," she chuckled.

* * *

"Is everything alright?" Breena enquired cautiously.

The witch’s gaze swept over the garden before turning to her and nodding. "Most satisfactory," the witch praised before looking towards the others standing sentry over the madly-twitching bodies encircling the two of them. "What I intend," the white witch explained, "is use the pain of the demon’s victims to draw it here. Once here, detective Lockley will shoot the monster, weakening it. And then Breena will slay it. However," the Englishwoman stared at each of the Slayers encircling them in turn, "it is vitally important that the demon is not allowed to touch any of its victims, otherwise it will receive an enormous power boost. Any questions?"

When nobody spoke, the English noblewoman backed out of the circle, leaving Breena feeling dreadfully alone. "Breena, dear. Are you ready?" queried the witch. Too nervous to speak, Breena just nodded, fingers tightly gripping the Slayer Scythe that Lady Patricia had brought her on loan from the Council. "Excellent. You’ll do fine dear."

Her assurance given, the witch began to chant in a vaguely Celtic sounding dialect. A tension-filled minute later, and the temperature noticeably dropped. A half-second later and there was a momentary flash of light.

A short, powerfully-built monster stood in the centre of the circle. A single gleaming yellow eye bored out of its face, just above its tusked mouth. Breena grimaced as she noticed the spiked knuckles on its three-fingered hands. She’d have to avoid them.

"Kate."

The moment Lady Patricia spoke, Kate’s hand blurred up, pointed her silenced gun at the monster and fired twice. The rounds splattered into the monster’s red chest, shattering the shell-plates encasing it, green viscera spurting out. "Breena!"

Breena darted forward, ducking beneath a clumsy haymaker to drive the bottom of th Scythe into the monster’s thick chest, knocking it back a step. Changing her grip, she at the demon’s head only for it to duck under her attack.

The beast growled before charging her, throwing a body shot that she barely managed to twist away from. "Uh!" Breena grunted and stumbled sideways when the demon backhanded her across the face.

Dazed, she responded with a swing at the monster’s legs. The demon rapidly back-pedalled, falling over its own feet in its haste, crashing to the ground. A grin on her face, Breena bounded over to the monster and raised her weapon.

Pain exploded in her left thigh when the demon slammed its spiked knuckles deep into her leg. Screaming in wordless agony, Breena stumbled backwards, blood pumping out of the wound, dripping down her leg. A grin on its hideous face, the demon advanced on her.

Right into her Scythe swing, the attack ripping the monster’s head off its powerful shoulders. The last thing she saw before falling backwards was the monster’s head and body simultaneously hitting the ground. The last thing she heard was Lady Patricia’s voice in her ear. "Well done, dear. You did splendidly. Now sleep."

* * *

"What the hell!" Patricia looked up as her room’s door crashed open and a furious-looking figure stalked in. "Were you playing at? You’re this big ass witch, why did you risk my girls! You could have kicked that bastard’s ass on your own!"

Patricia watched with thinly-veiled amusement as Faith angrily paced the room. The Slayer was an exceptionally striking young woman who’s intensity and energy radiated off her. Finally she consented to answer. "And what would have been the point of that?" Seeing the Slayer’s eyes harden and her mouth open, Patricia continued. "Your concern for those you are responsible for does you credit, but there may be a time when you aren’t there to assist them, they must have the confidence to deal with perilous situations on their own. Although they didn’t know it they were never in any serious danger, I had the situation well in hand." Patricia smiled. "And their glee and pride at being able to help you and the others was quite a delight to behold."

The Bostonian stared at her for a second before shaking her head. "Whatever," the shapely beauty turned to leave.

"Your past misdeeds don’t define who you are, you know."

The Bostonian spun round to face her, face taut, and fists clenched. "My past is none of your damn business! So back off lady!"

Patricia raised an unruffled eyebrow. "Your guilt eats you up. Even with a Slayer’s natural resistance to demonic interference, you were the first one to be infected by Amy. And yes, you have made many mistakes," the Slayer’s mouth opened, "don’t interrupt!" Patricia snapped before continuing in a softer voice. "I was very pleased when Rupert asked me to come here, I’ve always wanted to meet you." She hid a smile at the east coast native’s nervous foot shuffle. "There a number of conflicting and contradictory theories about you at the Council. Some see you as untrustworthy rogue. Others as a freak that should have never been Called." The Slayer winced. "And some as hope that anyone can be redeemed." Lady Patricia paused. "When you requested Dana be brought here, I strongly advised Rupert against it. I thought that such a renowned hot-head such as yourself was no guardian for someone with Dana’s problems. However," Lady Patricia smiled, "I’m pleased to say I was completely wrong. You’ve done an amazing job with her."

"Uh, thanks."

"You should always remember the evil you’ve done, but also never forget the good you’ve done. Yes, you’ve killed," the brunette beauty winced again, "but you’ve also helped Dana, saved the world a number of times, saved people, and taken these other girls under your wing."

"Don’t make up for the lives I’ve taken."

"No, nothing can do that, but your actions have proved that isn’t all you are. You should hold onto that. And that means you should be allowed some happiness. For example with that young Xander."

The Slayer’s cupid-shaped mouth opened and shut several times before she managed to croak out a comment. "What the hell are you talkin’ about?"

"Dear, I am the world’s most powerful white witch-."

"More powerful than Red?"

Patricia’s temper flickered into life at the twin annoyances at being interrupted and reminded of the one human who’s power eclipsed her own by some ten-fold. "True enough," she conceded through gritted teeth. "But Miss. Rosenberg’s misdeeds preclude her from consideration as a true white witch. That aside, a white witch of my power can sense emotions. Dear," Patricia’s voice softened, "you care very deeply about that young Watcher but fear holds you back." Seeing the Slayer’s mouth open in an angry denial, she raised a hand to forestall her. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of dear. But failing to confront it is another matter entirely, young lady. Now," Patricia looked to the door, "if you don’t mind?"

"Uh," the bemused-looking Slayer nodded before heading towards the door, "sure."

Patricia’s face hardened into flint as the door closed behind the young lady. There was someone else she had to speak to before leaving.

She somehow doubted it would be a pleasant visit.

* * *

"Good day, Angelus."

Angel glanced up from his Oscar Wilde, surprised that a human could get into his room without him sensing them. Calming his demon’s scared whimperings, he stared evenly at the regal-looking witch stood by the door. "I prefer Angel these days."

The Englishwoman sniffed. "What you prefer is immaterial, vampire." The noblewoman impaled him with a vicious glare. "I first met Rupert almost thirty years when I mentored him after various mishaps-."

"Egyhon-," Angel commented.

"Amongst others," the witch nodded. "Three decades of friendship. And in those three decades he was only in love once. And you killed her."

"That wasn’t-."

It was as if he hadn’t spoken. "You were very fortunate I didn’t discover what had happened until much later. Your deluded Slayer wouldn’t have stopped me from ensuring you paid." The woman ignored his growl. "I like these children. They have great potential, amazing promise." The woman’s eyes bored into him. "You on the other hand are nothing but a leech. I would advise you to take very good care of them. You really don’t want to give me a reason to get some long overdue revenge for dear old Rupert."

"And," Angel stared evenly at the woman, ignoring his demon’s choked sobs, "you’d be wise not to threaten me. I don’t react well to them."

"Brave?" Patricia chuckled. "It would appear you do have some good qualities. Use them to keep these children safe. Goodbye."

With a rustle of her skirts the woman left, leaving Angel staring bleakly out of the window. When he’d come back from heaven he’d hoped to get a second chance to connect with his son, to make a difference but it seemed no matter how long he lived some people would never forget his blood-drenched past. "And no should they," he whispered.

* * *

Faith took a long, rattling, breath before knocking on X’s office door and striding in. God, she shook her head as she noticed how sweaty her hands felt and how fast her heart was beating. "Lady Pat’s dropped at the airport."

Xander looked up from his paperwork. X with paperwork, didn’t that just beat all, and nodded. "Thanks." Her potential honey looked down at his cluttered desk with a sigh before looking up again. "Was there anything else? Only I’ve got a ton of stuff to do."

"Yeah, there is actually." Faith bit her bottom lip. Damn, she realised that she’d done a lot of stuff in her life, but she’d never actually asked a guy out, she’d always been the askee not the asker. "I was thinking maybe we could do something -."

"About the front of the house, yeah, I’ll get Andy and Connor to help me paint it."

"No," Faith shook her head. God, this was hard enough without having to compete with Xan’s motor-mouth in full flow. "I was thinkin’ maybe we could," she took another breath, man she could do with a shot of JD right about now, "I was thinkin’ we could go out some time?"

"Oh," Xander’s remaining eye widened. "Like a bonding dinner, sort of a well-done bash for the kids? I guess Council funds could stretch to that."

"No," Faith rolled her eyes. Jesus, she actually wanted to date this ‘tard? Fuck, she was starting to wonder which of them was dumber. "I was thinkin’ you and me could go on a date." Deciding she had to make it join-the-dots clear, she added. "Together, romantic like. You know like Bonnie and-," she stopped, deciding that was a bad example, "Solo and Leia?"

Xander blinked several times, his face looking something like a cornered deer. "You want to go out on a date? With me? But why?"

Faith prayed that Xan’s paleness was due to shock and not mind-numbing terror. "’Cause," Faith shrugged. Shit, she hated opening up. "’Cause that night we fu-, had sex, when ya held me it felt good, tender. Ya make me laugh. And I trust ya. I think maybe we could have something."

There was a long, unbearable moment of silence. Then Xander spoke, his voice faltering. "Uh, yeah. I guess Angel could run patrols for us. Maybe Thursday night?"

"Great," Faith forced a smile. She just hoped wasn’t just accepting for fear of what she’d do if he said no.

Toledo, Ohio

"Where is it?"

"I don’t know," he screamed as he struggled against his captor but failed to escape his attacker’s iron grip. He groaned as the man crashed a foot into his groin. "Cleveland! They’re taking it to Cleveland."

"Thank you," the last thing he saw was the gleaming blade cutting through the night en route to slicing through his neck.

* * *

"Do you know," Andrew grunted as he completed another chin-up rep. "Where Xander-," he grunted again as he completed his sixth, he was in the zone, "Xander is gonna take you?"

"’Drew, just concentrate on the damn exercise, k?" rasped his instructor from beneath him.

"Only I know," his seventh rep came and went, "there’s a great comic book convention in-, arghh!" he cried out in shock as the Slayer suddenly released her grip on his feet and without her assistance he fell to the ground.

Dazed, he looked up at the enraged-looking Slayer. "FYI," she growled. "If your bud’s thinking of taking me somewhere as lame as that, tell him from me he’ll be coming back in a fuckin’ body-bag. Ya dig?" Her warning given, the Slayer spun around and made for the door, her hair swinging angrily.

Andrew stared after his departing mentor, the bounce of her spandex-covered behind stalking out of the gym almost enough to turn him straight. "But she," he sighed, "is meant for another."

But at least there was Bakula. "Oh Scott," he whispered longingly. "One day you will be mine."

* * *

"What are you watching?" Kate’s eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the movie before Xander had chance to turn it off. "Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a date?"

"I’m tense," Xander said loftily. "When I’m tense, comedy relaxes me."

"Oh, I thought you were watching that to persuade yourself there are some women even more nuts than Faith. Speaking of which, did you notice that Sissy looks like Faith?"

Xander shuddered. "Don’t say that. And hey don’t laugh," Xander shook his head, "but I see the spit of you on Law & Order all the time."

"Funny," Kate replied. "Say, I never mentioned why I came in, did I?" She pulled out her automatic and offered it to the young man. "Here, in case Faith gets horny, put a .44 in each leg and make for the bus station. If you’re really lucky you might get away before she recovers."

Xander glared at her. "And people talk about my sense of humour?"

* * *

"What am I gonna wear?" Faith paced the floor of her room, dressed only in a half-cup lacy black silk bra and matching panties, her expression almost comically petrified. "I’ve been through my wardrobe three times, and there’s nothing in it that doesn’t scream ‘lay me’."

"Oh, you’ve noticed."

Faith glared at Dana. Previously insane the younger Slayer might be, but she knew what she was talking about when it came to fashion, Amy had to give her that. Seeing world war 3 about to break out, she hurriedly spoke up. "Here, I brought you this."

Faith stared doubtfully at her offerings of black turtleneck and matching ankle-length skirt. "I said I didn’t wanna come across as a street walker, but I ain’t doing the nun gig for nothing less than good hard cash."

"Fine," she reached to take her clothes back.

"No, no," Faith shook her head and pulled away, clothes still in hand. "It would be rude to refuse."

"Yeah," muttered Dana. "And if there’s something that’ll make you lose sleep, it’s the thought of being rude." Faith’s eyes turned volcanic. "What?" Dana smiled, the innocence in her expression less than convincing. "What did I say?"

* * *

Angel paused at the door to Faith’s room. Deciding who she dated was none of her business, he turned to leave without knocking. "Yo, Fang," the Slayer called out as he took his first step away, "door’s always open to ya."

"Thanks," Angel opened the door and walked in to find Faith pushing a shapely leg into a knee-length, flat-heeled boot. "I thought I’d try a new look for tonight," Faith’s smile was strained, "something that screamed a little less street tramp a little more classy."

"You were never a tramp, Faith." Angel leaned against the far wall. "Messed up, but never a tramp. How are you feeling?"

"Shit, Angel," Faith shook her head, her eyes wild. "I’m fuckin’ terrified. This is the first date I’ve ever been on." Angel stared at the Slayer. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But either the guy knew what he was gettin’ at the end of the evening or we’d slept together before and he was just makin’ with the nice to get another bite."

"Xander isn’t like that," Angel softly counselled. He might not especially like the boy, but if there was one thing Xander wasn’t, it was a sleaze.

"I know, which leaves me where?"

Angel didn’t have a real good answer for that one, but he figured he’d give it the old college try. "It leaves you a beautiful young woman going out on a first date. Who should just enjoy herself."

"Yeah," Faith’s face twisted. "A first date with a guy I tried to kill. With Xander."

And there was the crux of the problem. He knew from his prison visits with Faith that aside from her murders, it was her treatment and attempted murder of Xander that tortured her the most. Wes, well Faith regretted what she’d done, but Wesley had played a large part in pushing her down that path, and to Faith’s thinking so had Buffy, a person that even now they both avoided talking about because of their violently opposing opinions.

But Xander was a whole different ball-game. Even before him Xander had been the first man to actually try and help Faith. At the time Faith hadn’t understood the loyalty that drove Xander, had just thought he was another man on the make, and in her state of mind reacted violently. During his visits, she’d talked incessantly about telling him she was sorry. He’d suggested writing to him, but she said that was a cop-out, a coward’s way out, that if she was going to do it, it would be eye to eye, so he could spit in it if he wanted to.

Angel had always suspected that Faith’s reluctance to apologise was through fear that once again a man she truly cared about would reject her. Not that he was stupid enough to actually suggest that. A vampire didn’t live to be two hundred and fifty years old by suggesting to Slayers that they were ‘chicken’. But whatever the reason, Faith had been tormented about what she’d done to Xander for years. And now they were going out on a date. "If it’s any comfort after dating Cordelia you’re probably a breeze," he offered.

His joke fell on stony ground. Not so much as a half-smile. "It ain’t. I mean Jesus, you should have seen the look on his face when I asked him out. He was scared shitless, why the hell didn’t he say no?"

"Have you looked in the mirror? I can’t, but you can."

"Ain’t what I meant," the Slayer shook her head. "Way he looked it was like he wanted to say no, but daren’t for fear I break his kneecaps."

"Maybe it wasn’t fear-."

"I know when X is scared, I damn near killed him, I know when he’s frightened."

"Okay," Angel took an unneeded breath. Relationship counselling, because his always went so well. "Maybe he was frightened at the thought of dating, not you, just anyone. It’s been a while since his ex died, maybe he’s frightened that by dating you he’s demeaning the memory of her. If you want to know, maybe you should just ask him?"

"And who’s to say I’d get a straight answer?"

"Then don’t ask him," Angel suggested. "At least not right away, wait until you’ve dated for a while and until then just enjoy yourself."

"Enjoy myself," Faith looked down at the floor. "Oh yeah, can hardly wait." Angel groaned inwardly. Being trapped underwater for a whole summer had been more fun than this. "Thing is," he realised the Slayer was continuing to talk and forced himself to concentrate, "that night I popped his cherry was good." He shuddered involuntarily. Faith smiled wanly. "Don’t worry I ain’t gonna get graphic. The sex itself was nothing special, I’ve got some mach moves but Xan was a novice so he didn’t last long. Boy has some serious girth though." Angel groaned, this was non-graphic? "Sorry. But it was afterwards, it was afterwards that was nice. Normally a guy when he’s finished with me, either tells me to get in position for round 2, to get him a cold one from the fridge, or rolls over and goes to sleep. But X," Faith shook her head, eyes soft, "X didn’t do any of that shit. He just put his arm around me and stroked my hair, real gentle like. And for a second I almost believed that I could have it."

"It?" he asked after the Slayer didn’t speak for a long time.

"A future like the good girls got, with a decent guy who looked after them, protected them. Then, I got scared, cause if I wasn’t bad-ass Faith, who was I? I knew bad-ass Faith, but the way X was making me feel wasn’t bad-ass Faith so I kicked him out."

"Well it looks like you get a second chance," Angel commented for wont of anything else to say.

* * *

Xander looked up at a knock on his door. After a quick check of his tie in the mirror, he called out. "Come in!"

The door swung open and Andrew walked in. "Greetings fellow fighter of the darkness."

"Hello Andrew," he looked in the mirror again. Satisfied his teeth were clean, he looked towards the diminutive man. "Can you hurry it along? Only I’m supposed to be meeting Faith soon, and getting there late isn’t a good way to make a first impression."

Or keep all his limbs.

"Of course," Andrew nodded. "If you were thinking of taking Faith to Illustrate-Con, don’t. She won’t like it."

Xander stared at the younger man. "Take Faith to a comic book convention? Do I look insane? No, I’ve got a table booked at a restaurant."

"Of course," Andrew nodded again. "What sort of idiot would even suggest that? Good luck. And if you need any love potions or -." He glared at the former mage. Andrew gulped. "I wouldn’t have a clue where to get such things. See you later!"

Xander started to slip on his jacket. His shoulders slumped at another knock on the door. However hard he fought against it, he was going to be late. "Come in."

The door flew open and Dana walked in, a confused look on her face. The beautiful young woman immediately began to pace the floor, muttering beneath her breath, as she always did when worried about something. Xander sat down and waited, knowing it was pointless to try and rush Dana when she was in an agitated mood. While Dana was pretty much normal 95% of the time, when she was worried she’d revert to something close to the ten year old child that had been abducted over ten years ago.

Finally the Slayer looked towards him. "Faith’s my friend, she stuck up for me."

"I know-."

"You’re my friend too," Dana continued over him. "You gave me a home."

"It was the right thing to -."

"Faith pretends she’s tough, but she’s not really," Xander blinked. He was more easily fooled than he’d ever suspected. "Not where it counts. On the inside. Faith’s soft and fluffy like a marshmallow." Xander gulped. If anyone else had said that he’d have laughed out loud, with Dana he was worried she might be having a psychotic episode. And he thought his day couldn’t get any more terrifying. Showed what he knew. "Lots of men have hurt Faith, but she’s not cared for any of them like she does you." The Slayer looked at him, her deep eyes scared. "You can’t hurt her."

"I won’t hurt her," he promised. If nothing else there was that losing limbs issue.

Dana smiled before lunging at him. He half-tensed as the formerly insane Slayer wrapped her arms around him and engulfed him in a rib-popping hug. "Thank you! Thank you!" Suddenly the Slayer let go, her face red. "Sorry, didn’t mean to touch," she muttered before hurrying out of the door.

Xander gaped after the departing Slayer. Why did he get the horrible feeling that someone was picking out bridesmaid’s outfits?

* * *

"Hey," Faith tensed at a knock at the door and Xander’s voice floating through to her. He sounded as nervous as he felt. "Are you ready, only the cab’s here?"

"Yeah," Faith stood up, checked herself out in the mirror, looking good kid, and made for the door. Opening it, she smiled expectantly at Xander. "What do ya think, X?"

The man stared at her for a second before speaking. "You look different."

"Ya want more flesh or something tighter? I could change," Faith turned back into her room, panic setting in. Damn, she was losing him, she should have gone with the usual stuff, not tried to act all classy. "It’ll just take a minute," she babbled.

"Wait!" Faith stared down at the man’s hand around her wrist. Xander let go as if scalded. "You look really good. I was just surprised that’s all." Xander reached behind the door and passed her a bunch of red roses. "I bought you these."

Faith stared blankly at the gift before taking them. "They smell good," she said lamely. Before Wood the only presents she’d had off guys had been brewskis and takeaways, and she really wasn’t a flower person. "I’ll put them in a vase or something when we get back."

Xander looked briefly disappointed by her lukewarm reaction but covered well. "Sure. Then let’s go."

"Five by five."

* * *

Faith stopped as they exited their house, her face tightened. "Ah fuck," she exclaimed. "How the hell we meant to get to the damn cab with that horse and carriage in the way?"

Xander shuffled from foot to foot. First the disaster with the flowers and now this, his life-span would soon be measured in seconds. "Uh, the horses and carriage are the cab."

Faith’s head snapped towards him, her cupid-bowed mouth dropping open and eyes filling with wonder. "Ya joking?"

"No."

Faith grinned. "This is the coolest shit ever!"

Xander heaved a sigh of relief. "You like it?"

"I fuckin’ love it!" Faith exclaimed before hurrying over to the carriage. "Damn," Faith’s voice was softer than he’d ever heard it as she stroked the mane of the nearest of the two horses, "Who’s a beauty then?" Faith looked up at the driver, a short portly man with a handlebar moustache and a few last stubborn strands of grey hair on top of his head. "Got any sugar or something?"

"Here," the man passed Faith a pair of carrots.

"Wicked," Xander glanced at his watch as the Slayer started to feed the horses. It was lucky their reservations weren’t for almost an hour, this was going to take some time. His impatience faded as he watched the Slayer feed the horses, replaced by a strange sense of satisfaction at the shine in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks as she petted the animals, tickling their ears, nuzzling their noses and stroking them under their chins.

"Faith," Xander spoke up after about ten minutes. "We’ll have to go soon."

"K," the Slayer nodded before reluctantly stepping back. After a final look at the horses, she allowed him to help her into the back of the carriage. "Sorry about that X," Faith shrugged, a self-conscious look on her face. "But I love animals, always have. Always wanted a pet as a kid."

Which explained Faith’s closeness with Angel. Biting back a host of smart-ass comments, he just nodded. "It’s fine, we’ve got enough time."

* * *

"Wicked," Faith sat back in the carriage, eyes flitting left to right as the carriage started down the road, her ears filling with the sound of passing cars and the wind stroking her face. Faith turned to her companion and spoke, raising her voice over the clip clop of the horses’ hooves. "Man, this is cool. Thanks for this. Where ya booked us in at?"

"Il Molto Squisito." Faith grinned at Xander’s mention of one of Cleveland’s most exclusive Italian restaurants. Expensive too, you had to give the man points for trying. Unless it was just an insurance ploy to make sure she ended the night on her back. Mood darkening, she sat back in her seat. "I thought you liked Italian?"

Faith forced a smile. "I do, I do, just enjoying the ride."

"Oh," Xander nodded before himself sitting back. "That’s good. I thought it was different."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I like it." In no time at all, they’d arrived at the restaurant. After paying the cab driver, Xander herded her towards the eating establishment’s glass entrance, opening the door for her as he did so. Faith smiled. Had to give X credit, he knew his manners. "Thanks."

Once inside, she glanced around, nodding approvingly at what she saw. The place was illuminated by subdued lightning, each of the partioned booths individually lit by a glowing lamp in the centre of their round, immaculately varnished tables. By the wall nearest the door stood a well-stocked bar. If nothing else she’d be able to get loaded if the date went south. Against the far wall there stood a lounge act playing a mixture of mood music with skill if not passion.

And the air filled with the scent of a dozen different lovingly-prepared dishes, wafting in from the kitchen. Faith smirked, her nose quivering. "Yeah, it’ll do."

Xander smiled at her before turning to the smartly-suited waiter wearing the staff uniform of red jacket, white shirt, and black pants, stood ready to guide them to their table. "We’re booked in the name of Harris," Xander said.

The waiter bowed his head slightly to each of them in turn. "Yes, sir, madam. If you’ll just follow me." The man led them to a table before presenting them each with a leather-bound menu. "The waiter will be with you presently," the man bowed again before backing off and walking away."

"You know that dummy sled you wanted building for training?" Xander said after an uncomfortable minute’s silence. "I think I’ve come up a way to make it a little more Slayer res-."

"That’s great, X," she interrupted. "But I didn’t ask ya out to talk shop. How about a rule, no Slayer talk tonight?"

"Okay," Xander nodded. "What do you want to talk about then?"

"How about ya?"

Xander looked bemused. "Me?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "I know fuck all ‘bout ya. How about ya fill in the gaps?"

"Uh, okay-."

It took a while, but by desert they were talking if not like lovers, at least friends. Faith grinned as Xan cracked wise about hating Slayers not for their powers but for their ability to put away more food than an Olympic weight-lifter without putting on weight. Her grin faded as she sensed something. Turning her head to the window, she started to rise. "Faith," X’s voice rose a note, "what’s -."

Suddenly the window exploded. Faith crouched down instinctively, but they were too far inside to be hit by flying shards. As well as the shattered glass a body flew inside, hitting the russet-coloured carpet with a thud, followed quickly by a trio of snarling uglies. "One night!" she yanked her stake out of her handbag before leaping over the booth and towards the vamps. "Is one fucking night too much to ask?"

Her foot smashed into the chest of the nearest vamp, lifting him off his feet and flinging him back out onto the pavement. Even as she landed beside the crumpled body she noticed something, but didn’t have time to think about it. She was too busy taking a pounding right to the forehead.

Grimacing with pain, she stepped towards her attacker only for his companion, the trio’s sole female, to grab her by the shoulders. Faith kicked backwards, her heel crashing into the demon’s shin, shattering the bone and sending the vampire screaming to the ground.

"Slayer!" the vampire remaining standing bared his teeth before darting at her.

"Didn’t your momma," Faith sidestepped his charge and kicked him in the ribs, the force of the blow lifting him off his feet and sending him sailing into a nearby table, knocking both him and the table crashing to the floor. "Teach you it’s rude to run at a Slayer," she kicked away the lamp the struggling to his feet vampire threw at her, "without first," she ducked beneath a front heel kick aimed squarely at her head, "cleaning your teeth?"

Wrapping her arm around the demon’s out-stretched leg, she picked it up off the floor, and threw it back down, staking it before it had time to rise. "With that breath, I guess," spinning around, she threw her stake into the other vampire’s heart, "not." She started towards the smashed window, intent on teaching the third vampire a lesson about not interrupting a dining Slayer. Even as the vampire charged through the opening, Xander appeared by the side of the fissure, his stake thudding home.

"You okay, Faith?"

Faith smiled, heart warming at her Watcher’s concern. "Five by five, X." She looked down at the unconscious man. He was, she supposed, a good-looking bastard. Short brown hair, firm jaw-line, and a hell of a set of muscles under his checked shirt and jeans. "I saw his eyes before he passed out," she commented. "They’re wicked blue."

"I know you haven’t dated much, but commenting on another guy’s eyes when you’re on a date is considered the height of rudeness." Xander paused. "Especially when you’re out with an one-eyed man."

Faith shot Xander a withering look. "As in inhumanly blue, dumbass."

"Oh," Xander groaned. "I suppose this means we better grab him and head back to the house?" Xander turned to the pale-faced manager, the man’s jowls shaking as he regarded the carnage wrecked in his business. "I suppose the meal was on the house, seeing as we saved everyone’s lives?"

"Damn," Faith shook her head in half-disapproval, half-admiration, "you’re cheap."

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