LA.

He leapt from rooftop to rooftoop, smiling slightly as he watched his oblivious prey walking the streets beneath him. The man was so like his father, unbending, strict, and stern, a man convinced of his own power. He would soon learn, just like his father had four centuries previously, what true power was.

The man was thickset and silver-haired; his craggy features indicating he was around sixty years old, just the age father had been when he’d snuffed out his miserable existence.

"And so the cycle continues," he muttered as his quarry entered a nondescript alley leading to a 4-11.

Sensing it was time, he dropped off the six-storey building to land behind the human. "Hello, sir," he purred.

The man spun around to face him, his speed belying both his age and girth, surprise in his eyes. "Where the hell did you come from?" the man demanded, his hand easing inside his jacket, doubtless to some weapon or other.

"Exactly." He smiled. "Hell." Before the time his prey had chance to react he was on him, his right hand beneath the man’s chin, forcing his head back before sinking his fangs into his quarry’s throat. The man gasped and managed a feeble punch to his ribs before going limp. He hungrily drank his fill before dragging behind a dumpster to carve his mark on him. Once he’d finished, he stepped away, eyes fixed on the corpse. "And next for sister," he whispered.

* * *

He watched as the black girl strode through the streets. She was a pretty little thing, there wasn’t any doubt about that, but there was more to being his next victim than just looks. She had to share his sister’s confidence, so unusual in a woman of their time, and her grace.

"Oh yes," he smiled as he watched her. "She definitely qualifies." Seeing an opportunity as she turned down an empty street, he dropped out of the sky to land in front of her. "Hello, sister."

He was surprised when rather than react with terror; the girl lunged at him, hand reaching inside her jacket. He was further shocked when the hand came out with a stake. Laughing to himself, he slid away from the attack and thudded a left cross into the girl’s forehead.

The girl let out a pained gasp as she flew through the air to crash into a shop front. "Fancy yourself as a Slayer do you?" he mocked as he strutted over to her. "They tend to be rather tougher," grabbing the stunned girl around the neck; he lifted her from the ground, receiving a weak backhand to the face. "But no more spirited!" he commented before flinging the girl back into the wall. She groaned as she slid down to the ground. He bared his fangs as he crouched over her body. Time to feed.

Pulling away moments later, his fangs dripping with viscera and his mark mocking the Lord Jesu adorning the black’s once flawless chest, he smiled. "Mother next," he whispered. "Time to start anew. Another town I think."

* * *

Sunnydale

"G," Giles looked up to watch his adoptive daughter, her friends, and the now seemingly permanently-attached Wesley Whyndham-Pryce enter his lounge, "we’ve been thinking."

"Yes?" Giles didn’t give voice to his first reaction that Faith and thinking never ended well, especially for him.

"We’re all at college," Faith looked towards Cordelia, Amy, and Willow, "and Xan’s got his new job at the construction site." Faith beamed proudly at her boyfriend who was carrying a mysterious package under his arm. "But you and Wesley ain’t got nothing to do."

"Except be your Watcher," he commented. Which given the combination of the Hellmouth and Faith’s knack for getting into and causing trouble was more like a job for ten, rather than two men.

"Yeah, but what’s that? Read some stuffy books, tell me to keep my guard up when sparring?" Faith shrugged dismissively. Giles’ mouth opened in outrage, the cheeky bloody bint. "We was thinking, you and Wes should open a detective agency."

Giles gaped at the Slayer, as usual at a loss to follow the warped workings of her mind. "I fail to see myself in a deerstalker and a dressing gown."

Faith shot him a frustrated look. "Talk English, G," the coal-eyed beauty exclaimed, "not what they talk in…."

"England?" Wesley unhelpfully finished.

Giles had to admit Wesley’s nerve had improved. Four months ago and the look Faith shot his fellow countryman would have had him soiling himself. Now he merely paled. After a second, Faith turned back to him. "People could come to you during the day with their supernatural problems, you could research them, and in the evenings if you need muscle, ya got me, if ya need magic there’s Ams and Will." Faith looked at her boyfriend. "Show him X."

"Um, sure," the youth opened his package to reveal a white sign saying ‘Watcher Securities’ in red with smaller blue lettering beneath saying ‘Your safety is our business’."

Giles found himself smiling at the thought his adoptive daughter and her corralled friends had put into everything. And the plan did have an advantage, enabling them to keep their ear to the ground about any major supernatural activity. "We’d need somewhere to base this business," he hedged.

"Already got a place," Faith put in. "Deposit paid and everything."

"Oh really?" Giles raised an eyebrow. "And how pray tell did you manage that?"

Faith shrugged, a rare self-conscious look on her face. "Got your pop to okay funds for the deposit and first three months’ rent."

Giles’ mouth dropped, unable to believe his Slayer’s audacity. Finally he laughed. "It seems things have been decided." Leaping to his feet, he grabbed his jacket. "Well let’s go then."

* * *

Faith shoved open the colonial-styled building’s double doors. "I figure we could hang the sign over here." His daughter pointed up to the space above the door before shrugging. "But it’s your place, your choice I guess."

"I think it’s a fine one," he praised before walking into the dusty foyer, the wood-panelled floor creaking underfoot.

Faith smiled briefly before one-hand vaulting the wooden desk and shoving open the door behind it. "This used to be the dining room and lounge for the place, but I figure you could turn it into offices or a library or something."

"Another splendid idea," he encouraged before glancing with interest at the sweeping corridor to the desk’s left. "What was this place?"

"It was a boarding-house built in the early 20s," he looked towards an excited-looking Willow. "But a vampire hired a room in the mid 60s and killed everyone in the place. Ever since no-one’s ever dared to buy it, so we got a great deal."

"We’ll all help you clean it up," Amy added.

"You have done well," he praised before looking at Faith. "I suppose you’ll want to give me the grand tour?"

Faith grinned. "Suppose I will."

Half an hour later and they’d finished. There wasn’t much to see really, just eight boarding rooms, men and women’s separate bathrooms, and a shared lounge. "I think it’ll do fine," he looked around. "After a little cleaning up, but yes I think I’ll do it."

"Wicked!" Faith beamed.

He grabbed a hold of Xander as they were leaving. "I think we need to have a word, young man."

Xander blanched. "Uh, the name was my idea and the slogan Willow’s. But if you -."

"Not about the sign, son," he shook his head. "Very catchy. I know you have problems with your parents," he raised a hand to halt any protests, "don’t bother to lie. Faith has a thermonuclear temper and an indiscreet mouth. If you want one of the rooms upstairs once this place is cleaned up, it’s yours."

"That’s great!" the young man enthused. The excitement in his eyes dimmed. "But I can’t afford much rent. Faith’s sort of a demanding girl-friend."

Giles chuckled inwardly, demanding was one word to use. "Young man," he forestalled any further protests with a raised hand. "You pay the rent every time you make my girl smile or laugh, every time you help her on patrol."

"Thanks G-Man."

"Don’t call me that."

* * *

"Mr. Giles! Mr. Giles!"

Giles looked up as Wesley charged into their new office, the local rag in hand. "Wesley, for the last time," he complained. "Rupert or Giles will suffice. In fact anything rather than the constipated formalisation of my appellation," his voice trailed off. Good lord, did he really sound like that? No wonder Faith and the others got confused some times. After all they were only Americans.

"Sorry," his younger counterpart dropped the paper on the desk. "But you should read this."

He looked down as he read to where Wesley was pointing. After a few seconds he felt the blood drain from his face and a cold chill settle over him. "Good lord," he licked his lips, "it’s-."

"Penn," Wesley finished.

* * *

Sergeant Denilson knocked on the plain white door, more nervous than he’d been facing down coke dealers. After a second a gruff bellow answered him. "I’m not seeing anyone!"

Denilson quelled the instinct to run, reminding himself that the officer at the other side of the door was if not his friend, no one got close enough to the human cactus for that, at least a trusted and respected colleague. "Kate, it’s Denilson," he called. When there was no further response, he added. "There’s been another reported Cross-Killer killing."

In a second the door was open and the beautiful blonde stood in the door way, cheeks puffy and eyes red from crying. "Where?" his fellow cop demanded, her voice hoarse from all the sobbing she’d done mourning her father, another victim of the Cross-Killer’s rampage.

"In Sunnydale," he stepped over the threshold. "It looks like we’ve got an angle on him."

"Yeah?" asked his fellow officer.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It’s like he kills in a pattern. First a lady in her fifties, then a young man in his late twenties, then an older man around sixty," he hurried at Kate’s flinch. "And then a girl in her early twenties, he’s started up again with the older woman.." His voice trailed off as he realised the cop was packing at a speed that gave lie to the theory that women took an eternity to pack. "What are you doing?"

"Going to Sunnydale." Kate didn’t look up.

"Oh no," he shook his head. This was a very bad idea. "They’ve got a police department down there."

"Ha." Kate’s laugh had little humour in it. "You’ve heard the same rumours I have about SPD. I wouldn’t trust those jackasses to pee standing up."

* * *

"Hey Gunn, man!" he didn’t look up at the shout, his gaze concentrated on his sneakers. "You wanna read this!"

"Go away, Dev," he replied in a monotone, his voice as lifeless as his sister now was.

"Look," a day-old paper was shoved under his nose. "The Cross-Killer has killed again!" That got his attention. Heart racing he snatched the paper away and hurriedly read it. Flinging the paper to the ground he rose and started to throw a few clothes into a canvas bag. "Where ya going, Gunn?"

"Sunnydale," he replied. "Got a vampire to kill." And a sister to avenge.

* * *

"Come in, come in," Giles ushered them into their new headquarters. Faith smirked to herself, and it was all her idea, she could use her head for more than just butting vamps with whatever Wes said. "We have a new," her adopted father grimaced, a sure sign he was gonna use slang, "player in town."

"Oh yeah," Faith faked a yawn. "’Bout time. Things have been slow-," her voice trailed off at G’s glare. Damn, he was so uptight sometimes.

"Yes, I," Faith exchanged an amused look with Xander at Wes’ self-important tone. Watcher Jr. had loosened up some, but he was still a little starchy for her. "I noticed a report in the local paper about a vampire attack last night. Copies of which I photocopied for you all." Faith’s mouth dropped open as the Watcher began passing photocopies around.

"Gee, there’s reading as well as Slaying to be done," groused Xander. "Life isn’t fair."

"Preachin’ to the choir," she muttered. "What happened to summarising, isn’t that Watchers do?"

Giles shook his head. "In 1600, there was a Puritan in London." Faith raised a tentative hand. Giles sighed long-sufferingly. "A puritan was a very strict Christian, Faith. Someone who was very intolerant of those who didn’t follow their rigid interpretation of Christianity. As I was saying, there was a Puritan called Charles Ashford Penn. In addition to being a religious fanatic, he was a psychopath. These two factors led to him being a mass-murderer predating Jack the Ripper by almost three centuries."

"He would prey," Faith turned her attention to Wesley, "on anyone who didn’t reach his strict moral code – street whores," Faith hid a grin at Wes’ blush, Wes said a naughty word, "beggars, and gamblers. He killed over a dozen people in a four year period, carving a cross into each of his victims’ chests." Faith lost all desire to smile; suddenly this wasn’t funny any more. "But then he had the misfortune to pick a vampire for his next victim-."

"A particularly nasty vampire by the name of Red Velvet," and it was back to Giles. Faith felt like she was watching a tennis match, bobbing between the two Watchers. "So called because of her red hair and velvety skin apparently," the Watcher sniffed. "Although the Watchers of that time had a rather florid prose."

"Yeah, it’s lucky they talk in English now." Faith snorted at Cordy’s mutter.

Giles either didn’t hear or more likely ignored Cordelia’s interruption. "She’d seen Penn at work and was impressed by his savagery, and so began to frequent the places he stalked, dressed as a street-walker to snare him."

"And it worked," continued Wes. "He attacked her only to find her more than capable of defending herself. She killed and turned him. He’s a particularly nasty and unusual vampire. In four hundred years he’s never sired anyone, and always kills in exactly the same order as his first vampiric kills. His family, first he kills a woman around fifty, then a man in his mid-twenties, then a man around sixty, and then a girl in her late teens to early twenties, always cutting a cross onto their chest. While before the mark was his ‘homage’ to god, now it’s meant to mock."

"Shit," Faith commented, "even for a vamp that’s messed up."

"So glad you agree," Giles replied. "Because last night a drained corpse of a 53 year old woman with a cross carved into her chest was found in Sunnydale."

"Oh crap," Faith muttered. Four hundred year old vamps were never a walk in the park.

* * *

"Damn it!" Faith kicked a gravestone. Three nights had passed since the first death, and although they’d not caught any trace of the notorious vampire, another body, that of a young man, had turned up. "What the fuck does he think coming to my town?"

"Maybe he hasn’t got our business cards yet?" Everyone turned to Willow. "Well I’m sorry, but getting the design just right was hard!" Faith opened her mouth to explain that she doubted vampires read business cards then just laughed and shook her head. Red was a trip sometimes.

"Wait!" Wesley looked to his left. "I heard something!"

"I told ya, Wes," Faith drawled as she strode over to the younger of her two Watchers, "chill. Now, which way?"

* * *

Penn smiled as he dropped the man’s corpse to the ground and drew his knife. Another cycle nearly completed. "Hey, asshole. The girl you killed in LA was my sister." Penn turned around, surprised that anyone could sneak up on him. He found himself being regarded by a stern-faced, shaven-headed negro in his early twenties. The boy was tall, with a good build, and a firm grip on the stake he held in his right hand. Penn chuckled. Ah, this explained the girl’s lack of fear. They were hunters of his kind. "You think my sister was a joke, asshole? Laugh this off."

The boy came in fast, his stake arcing down at his chest. Penn twisted away from the attack, the stake impaling air just over his left shoulder, but caught a strong left hook to the jaw. Surprised, he stumbled backwards. Shaking the blow off, he laughed. "Come little one," he taunted. It had been a long time since he had been so challenged. "Your sister put up a better fight than this!"

"Oh yeah?" The boy charged him, hitting in the mid-section with a football tackle. He responded with an elbow to the vampire hunter’s back. The boy grunted before picking him up and attempting to throw him to the ground.

Penn wrapped his legs around the youth and twisted. The black gasped before leaving the ground and flying into a nearby statue of a cherub. The youth groaned as he slid to the ground before gamely climbing to his feet.

Penn beamed. This was the most fun he’d had since his near-miss with a Slayer in Madrid in 1877, the girl had got away but then so had he. Vamping out, he leapt to the boy’s side. The demon hunter’s eyes widened and his stake came up. Penn grabbed the boy’s wrist, holding it rock-steady only to stagger at a headbutt to the face. Angered, he drove a knee into his opponent’s groin.

"Ahhh," the youth greyed and slumped to his knees. A grin on his face, Penn grabbed the youth around his head, ready to snap his neck. He wouldn’t mark this kill, just leave his corpse as testimony to his-."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

He was rocked by a trio of shots to his chest. Dazed, he stumbled backwards. In the distance he saw a pretty, pale-faced blonde in her late twenties stood facing him. The blonde’s eyes widened. "How-."

Now vamped out, he leapt over the crumpled black and onto the blonde. "That hurt!" he roared before snapping her gun out of her hand and flinging it to the ground.

"Not as much as this will."

He turned his head towards the husky voice in time to catch a boot to the face from a coal-eyed beauty. Stunned, he fell to the ground and rolled up, growls rumbling from his mouth. Now he was starting to get really irritated.

The girl charged him, chestnut hair swinging in the cold night air, her fists blurring as she hit him again and again. Finally he managed to grab one of the Slayer’s, she had to be, fists and yank her towards him.

His mouth dropped open when the girl responded by bending at the waist, allowing his blow to fly harmlessly overhead while at the same time bringing her foot up behind her with a smoothness and speed that any contortionist would be proud of before kicking him square in the face. Stunned, he released his grip on the Slayer’s hand and stumbled away. "This isn’t over, Slayer!" he warned before fleeing into the night.

* * *

Faith started after the vampire, but pulled up when she realised he was gone. "Don’t forget to write!"

"What was that?" Faith turned to see a blonde waving a gun and a badge around.

"That was a vamp," explained the African-American climbing to his feet, a dazed look on his face. Faith couldn’t help but drool, he was quite the package, if she didn’t have X she’d be more than interested in banging him. "Question is," the black looked towards her, "what the hell are you?"

"Vamp?" the blonde shook her head. "That’s not possible."

"Ma’am," Faith groaned when Giles did his ‘I’m reasonable and therefore so should everybody else be act’ and stepped towards the gun-woman. "I assume from the badge that you are a police officer who has been tracking this killer for some time. I’m therefore sure you’re aware that the victims were all completely drained of their blood."

"B..but," the blonde shook her head again.

Faith had used the distraction of G talking to the cop to sneak up on her. "Hey honey." The cop turned to face her. She hit her with a hard right to the jaw that snapped her head round and knocked her cold. Faith beamed. "Always wanted to do that to a cop."

Giles shot her a disapproving look even as Wesley crouched down and picked her badge up. "Reason sometimes works when given a chance."

"Reason’s no fun," Faith replied.

"Oh dear," everyone looked towards Wes. Judging from the pale face, Faith guessed Watcher Jr. had probably chipped a nail. "It appears she’s a LA rather than local cop."

"Oops." Faith shrugged.

* * *

Gunn watched as the tiny brunette effortlessly lifted the much bigger blonde onto her shoulder. "Who are you people?"

Another brunette, bigger but no less beautiful, looked towards him. "Come with us if you want to find out."

Gunn stared at the group for a second. He had trouble trusting people, especially pale-faces, but they had just saved his life. And from the look of Xena, he glanced towards the smaller of the two brunettes, if they wanted him to come, he couldn’t really stop them. Finally he shrugged with a confidence he didn’t really feel. "Sure."

* * *

Gunn gaped as the Englishman talked. He’d know about demons and shit for the best part of a decade, but never where they came from, or about Slayers, or about the Hellmouth. Or about anything really, from the sounds of things he’d been fighting blind.

"This is impossible," exclaimed the cop, an icepack held to her mouth where Faith had clocked her. From the look of the bruise, the kid could punch.

Gunn grinned, but what was that biblical quote he remembered from when he’d actually gone to school, ‘In the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king’. He’d never got what that meant until now. "Hey, Lady Heat, you shot that bastard in the chest three times, didn’t even knock him on the ass. What else do you call that?"

The cop’s mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. Which made for a pleasant change, she’d hardly shut up complaining since she’d woken up. Mind you, he looked towards Faith, the girl had an unique negotiating strategy. The Slayer caught his look and smirked. "See anything ya like?" In an instance the big kid, the boy called Xander was glaring protectively at him.

Gunn sat back in his chair, he wasn’t scared of the boy, he didn’t do fear, but on the other hand he also didn’t mess around with people’s relationships. "What’s the plan for Penn?" he queried.

"Well," the older Englishman, Giles was his name, sighed. "Tonight’s disturbance will have shaken Penn. I imagine he’ll be laying low until tomorrow tonight. I’d suggest that tonight is a ‘bust’ as you Americans put it." Gunn nodded slowly. That made sense, the Englishman looked like one of LA’s wealthy, a man with no idea of life’s harsh realities, at first glance. But if you looked under the surface, there was one tough guy lurking there. "Perhaps," the Watcher looked at first the cop and then him, "the two of you would like to stay at one of the rooms upstairs?"

* * *

Cordelia sighed as she started to unlock the door to the tatty room that had been her post-graduation home. Everything had fallen apart so qui-.

"Hello, dear." Cordelia screamed when Penn appeared beside her. Before she had chance to react, the demon had shoved her to the ground. "So pretty," the undead serial killer purred. "You’ll be perfect. And your friends will know that -, aggh!" The demon stumbled back screaming from the holy water she’d retrieved from her bag and thrown in his face. Leaping to her feet, Cordy rushed inside her hotel room, heart thumping.

Slamming the door behind her, she hurriedly dialled her phone. "Pick up! Pick up!" she muttered.

"You want to play hard to get!" she heard Penn’s insane chuckle from outside. "That can be arranged."

"Yo!" Cordy gasped when she heard Faith’s voice. "What’s the sitch?"

"It’s me," she babbled. "Penn’s at my place." She screamed as her front window exploded and a makeshift firebomb hit her bed, engulfing it in flames.

"SHIT! We’re on our way, C! Hold tight!"

Cordelia huddled in the far corner of her room, her eyes fixed on the growing fire outside her window unwilling to risk leaving the room and having to face Penn. Suddenly the window behind her smashed open. She spun around, stake held in her trembling hand only to relax when she recognised the invader as Xander. "Quick!" her deceased boyfriend’s best friend bellowed over the roaring flames. "Faith and the others are out the front. Let’s get out of the back!"

* * *

"Hey asshole, what was it about our first meeting you didn’t get?" The Slayer charged him. He stood his ground and threw a left. The beautiful brunette grabbed his wrist and twisted it. He gasped as his feet left the floor and he began an ungainly cartwheel through the air.

Thinking quickly, he kicked out, the point of his left boot smashing into the side of the Slayer’s head. Stunned, the girl released her grip and staggered backwards, even as he crashed into the motel’s wall. Rising, he started forward only for the black boy to charge him again, stake held high.

Snarling contemptuously, he grabbed the youth by the front of his grey hoodie and twisted at the waist, flinging the boy through the window behind him. Hearing the sound of the Slayer rushing forward, he turned to face her, leaning away from a front heel kick before driving an elbow full into her face.

"Shit!" the Slayer’s legs almost buckled under the blow. Following up his advantage, he threw a left that smashed into the Slayer’s head, knocking her to the knees. A smile on his face, he kicked at her face.

Only to miss completely when the teen dropped onto her back, brought her knees up into her chest, and kicked out, catching him full in his stomach. Penn gasped in pain as the force of the blow threw him off his feet and back into the hotel wall. Before he had chance to recover the Slayer was on her feet and coming at him, stake in hand.

He slid away from her stake thrust but not from her accompanying kick to the inside of his left leg. Pain flared through his left knee, almost knocking him from his feet. The supernatural beauty followed up with a palm strike at his nose. He caught the girl’s fingers and twisted them back.

The girl grunted in pain, but before he had chance to snap the digits, his crotch exploded in pain from a kick. Tears forming in his eyes, he responded with a punch to the mouth, sending claret spraying.

The teen stepped back three paces. Penn smiled at the glazed look in her eyes and started after her. Suddenly the Slayer launched herself into a leaping roundhouse kick, the blow smashing into his head, knocking him to the ground, the Slayer landing beside him on her knees, a vicious look on her face. "Sucker," she taunted before driving her stake home.

* * *

Giles looked towards Wesley. After a second his junior nodded agreement. "Mr. Gunn-."

"It’s just Gunn," the black interrupted.

"And Det. Lockley," he continued over the interruption. "If you two would be interested we’re opening a detective agency to help the people of this town. Your assistance would be more than appreciated."

"I’m in." Gunn replied instantly. "Mouth of hell, right? Plenty of demon ass to kick."

"I’m in," the cop’s reply was a little more hesitant, but no less sincere.

"Excellent," he beamed. "Now I think that concludes business for tonight. Cordelia, will you stay for a moment, please. And you too, Faith." Once the others had left, he turned to the two girls. "Now, I want to know why Cordelia is staying at that rathole." He listened with horror and no little sympathy as the former rich girl explained her family’s financial problems and her parents skipping the country, leaving her alone. "Why in god’s name didn’t you tell us?"

Cordelia shrugged. "I was embarrassed," she whispered.

"And you knew?" After a second Faith nodded sheepishly.

"You’re Faith’s friend, perhaps her closest, a young woman who has helped her for three years!" he exclaimed. "Do you seriously think I would think any less of you?" he shook his head. Teenagers, a bloody law onto themselves. "You’re moving into the spare room at ours," Cordelia’s mouth opened. "No arguments, young lady, I won’t allow it. And you’ll be starting work on Monday as our new receptionist." He looked towards Faith, throwing his car keys to her. "After you’ve dropped me at home, the pair of you can collect Cordelia’s things."

"Thanks for recommending me for this job, Xander," Gunn repeated as he hurried out of the room above the Watcher Securities’ offices.

"No problem," the Slayer’s boy-friend grinned at him as he exited his room. "The foreman said they needed some extra men to do the lifting, they needed muscle but not much brains."

"And you thought of me," he smiled at the goofy teen. "I’m touched."

"No," the boy’s smile widened. "I thought of myself and then realised I was already working at the site. Then I thought of my new friend, Gu-," the boy’s face suddenly stiffened. "I forgot something in my room," the teen grunted. "I’ll meet you at the truck."

Gunn stared at the youth, bemused by the boy’s abrupt mood swing. Putting it down to adolescent hormones, he shrugged. "Sure, man, see ya there."

* * *

Xander stared after the African-American, a tightness forming in his chest. His best friend from childhood dead just a few months and he was already lining up somebody, a stranger of just a few days’ acquaintance, to take his place. "Xander," he turned his head to see Giles stood behind him, a concerned look on the Englishman’s face, "are you alright? You don’t look well, son. Is there anything wrong?"

"No, nothing," he muttered before hurrying towards the front stairwell, hands in pockets and shoulders hunched.

"Xander, wait!" exclaimed the Watcher.

"Can’t," he shouted over his shoulder as he started down the stairs, "I’ll be late for work." What a traitor to Jesse’s memory he was.

* * *

By the time Giles reached the bottom of the stairs, his daughter’s infernal boyfriend was out of the door and in Gunn’s truck. "What was that about?"

Giles looked towards his fellow Watcher, his countryman sat behind the newly-varnished desk. "Something’s wrong with Xander," he declared.

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Something’s always wrong with that boy," the younger man replied before turning serious. "Any specifics?"

"No," he admitted, his gaze returning to the former boarding-house’s front door. "Just a feeling I get." He looked towards his counterpart. "Any cases?"

"No," Wesley grimaced. "But then the advert only went in the paper yesterday."

"All we can do is wait," Giles sighed. "Tea?"

"Splendid idea," Wesley beamed.

Giles smirked as he sat down. "Good, then two sugars and no milk in mine."

* * *

"Hey Xand," Gunn pushed the barrow over to his partner for a day. And hadn’t that been a blast, putting up with the moody kid all day. "Looks like you’ve got a load there."

"Yeah," the boy looked up briefly at the slowly setting sun. "We’ll be finished in a whil-, arghh!"

Heart racing, Gunn leapt at the Sunnydale native as the ground disintegrated beneath him, but despite his best efforts the teen plunged into a hole. "X!" he bellowed. "Are you okay?"

"I’m okay, I’m okay."

Gunn breathed again at the reply. That was a relief, the Slayer wouldn’t dissect him for getting her honey killed on his first day of work. "I’ll get some rope," he replied.

"Yeah," the youth replied, his tone distracted. "This place looks weird, like a burial chamber or something, definitely Giles-worthy."

* * *

"You okay, hon?" Faith queried as her and X did their nightly patrol, the others taking the other half of town. Xander shrugged. Faith sighed, her baby had been off for the last couple of days. At first she’d thought it was a touch of the blues, but looking at his pale face she couldn’t but wonder if he was sickening for something. "G reckons you fell into the old Sunnydale mission, back from when the town was founded. Gerhardt from the anthropology department is going wild about it." Faith shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging on her lips. "I can’t figure anyone going wild for a bunch of ruins. A new pair of leathers, a Harley, or concert tickets, sure, bu-."

"Vampires," Xander interrupted.

Faith turned her head in the direction X was looking. Sure enough, a trio of bloodsuckers were dragging a pretty brunette into an alley. "K," she hefted her stake. "Two on the left are mine, five by five?"

"Sure," she wondered again at the brusqueness of her stud’s tone before brushing it off and rushing into action.

Two of the demons turned to face her. That didn’t help them as she blocked a wild left on her forearm before butting a short, squat Latino full in the face. "My dose!" the demon screamed as he stumbled backwards, blood gushing from his shattered schnozzle.

"Bitch!" Even as she side-kicked the demon in the gut, knocking him into the wall, his partner grabbed her by the neck.

"Originality please," she elbowed the demon full in the mouth, he gasped in pain and released his grip, stumbling backward. "Like I haven’t been called that before!" The first vamp leapt at her, she stepped to the right, leaving her stake for him to run onto. Even as the demon burst into dust, she spun to face the other, ducking under his wild swing of a red bag, before ramming her stake home.

The demon screamed before exploding into ash. Faith’s eyes widened when she looked through the dissipating dust to see X getting his ass handed to him by the third vampire, the girl lying crumpled on the ground. "Crap." Faith charged through the descending ash to slam her stake through the demon’s heart, killing him before he even knew she was there. After a cursory look at her honey, something was definitely wrong. A newbie like that demon had been should have been a piece of cake for X, she crouched down over the battered would-be victim, gently brushing the hair off her face. "Hey, ya okay?"

* * *

Tara stared up at her rescuer. Free-flowing raven locks framed a cupid-shaped face containing the most luminous brown eyes and fullest lips she’d ever seen. Looking down, she saw a perfectly-rounded chest only half-concealed by its owner black gym-vest and a curvy butt covered only by a pair of leather trousers that clung to her behind like a second skin. The girl cocked her head and asked, "Uh, you’re not in shock, are you?"

Tara blinked, even her rescuer’s voice was alluring. "Oh, uh…no! N-n-no, I-I’m all right."

"You sure?" the girl asked.

"I-I-I’m sure, I-I just…" Tara’s eyes widened as she realised something. "My bag," she wailed. "He had my bag, everything I own has gone!"

"Shit," Tara blinked at hearing a curse word from such a sweet, angelic looking person. "Well your folks will be able to help you replace everything," the girl soothed.

"I don’t have any," Tara half-lied. Well none she wanted to admit to.

"Shit," the girl’s heart-shaped mouth twisted in a scowl before rearranging itself into a hypnotic smile. "I know, G will know what to do. Come with us!"

"O…okay," Tara stuttered. She’d already decided she’d follow this raven-haired beauty anywhere.

* * *

"And you lost everything?" Giles stared at the shy teen that Faith had dragged them to meet. He somehow suspected there was more to this tale than any of them had

"E..except my wallet and my acceptance letter to UC. Sunnydale," the girl produced them and passed them over.

"Cool" Faith smiled at the new age looking girl, "me, Red, and Ams are all going there too, maybe we have classes together?"

"T…that would be good," the teen blushed.

Giles glanced at the letter. Well, whatever she was running from, at least she wasn’t an underage runaway. That was a complication that their operation didn’t need. "Well then," he searched for a moment for a solution to the problem that Faith had so freely dropped into his lap. His girl’s warm heart and eagerness to help any and all were two of her greatest qualities, but they could be tremendous pains in the arse. "I imagine you could stay here for a couple of nights," he looked around the hotel, "although it is rather full of men," he didn’t fail to notice how the already shy teen seemed to fold into herself. That explained a lot, while Faith’s abuse had made her harder to hide her pain, this girl shrunk away from hers. Not that any of them would hurt the young girl of course, but she didn’t know that. "Or," he glanced at the blonde former cop, hoping she would go along with him, "I’m sure Kate could offer you somewhere to stay."

The former detective stared at the timid teen, the hard look on the blonde’s face suggesting he’d come to the same conclusions he’d reached. After a second she forced a smile and nodded. "Of course," the detective said. "It’s only small, but it’s clean and you can have the couch."

"T..that’s kind," the child whispered, "but I don’t have much money."

"Well I’m lousy at house-work, so I’m sure we can work something out in exchange for chores?" the ex-policewoman suggested. Tara nodded.

Giles noticed Willow was staring at Tara. Good lord, he rolled his eyes, Tara appeared to have a crush on Faith, Willow was looking at Tara like she was infatuated. Why did he think he’d walked into an episode of Grange Hill? Then the red-head spoke. "You’re a witch."

The newcomer flinched and bolted for the door only for Faith to block her way. "Relax Tar," Faith grabbed a hold of the witch’s arm only to release as if scalded by her frightened look. "We ain’t gonna hurt ya or nothing." Faith soothed, a hurt look on her face. "Red and Ams are witches themselves."

Tara glanced from Faith to the two girls in question and back again. "R…really?"

"Really, I know it’s hard to believe. But the plastic surgeon did a great job removing the warts from their nos-," all three girls turned to glare at an increasingly ill-looking Xander. The young man gulped. "Never mind."

In an instant the three witches were talking in a huddle. Faith walked over to him, a worried look on her face. "If your first question is can we keep her, I have to remind you Tara isn’t a puppy," he said.

His joke fell on stony ground, not so much as a smile. "Did you see how she flinched when I grabbed her?" Faith whispered.

"I saw," he confirmed.

"Do you think she -," the Slayer shook her head, his charge’s eyes fierce as she stared defiantly at him. "She’s one of us now!"

Giles managed not to smile. He expected nothing less from his child. "If that’s what she wants."

* * *

Prof. Gerhardt hummed and whistled as she worked in her darkened office, a frisson of excitement running through her. The Indian mission accidentally discovered today was an exciting find, and any papers that were to be written about it would be written by her. Fame at last, she’d be out of this one-horse town in -.

She paused in her ruminations when a green mist settled over one of the many display cases in her cluttered workplace, this case containing an early 1800 Chumash knife. "What the -." Her voice trailed off when the mist materialised into an Indian. Her mouth opened in a cry for help but before she could speak she was grabbed by the native American and her throat sliced by the jagged blade.

* * *

"Yo, X!" Gunn paused. After the teen’s Mr. Frosty’s performance yesterday he was reluctant to risk his wrath further. Not that he couldn’t handle the kid, but he didn’t want the Slayer twisting him into a pretzel. But the teen was late for work. Finally he knocked again on the door to receive no answer again. Shoving the door open, he strode inside to find the youth led on his bed, shaking and shivering even as sweat poured off him.

"I'm going now. Just...Kinda tough getting going today. "

"Shit," Gunn didn’t get any closer. The teen’s swollen throat did not look healthy, this was not something he wanted to catch. "I’ll go get Giles, man."

* * *

Giles shook his head as he returned from Xander’s room and to the anxiously waiting group sat downstairs, summonsed here by the call that one of their number was ill. "This doesn’t make any sense at all. The symptoms don’t connect in the slightest. Malaria, smallpox, hepatitis, and a lot of other illnesses-."

"Syphilis," Willow said quietly. Every eye turned to the blushing witch. "The symptoms match."

"Well he didn’t get it from me!" Faith shrieked. "I’ve had my shots and everything!"

"Please god," Giles muttered. "Kill me now."

"I concur," whispered Wesley.

Willow’s blush deepened. "N…no, all the Indians at the mission died of it when they were all holed up there. If that and the death of the professor are connected -."

"Then maybe it’s mystical in origin," Wesley smiled. "Excellent reasoning, Miss. Rosenberg."

"It better be mystical," Faith scowled. "Otherwise I’m getting a blunt knife and starting cutting."

Every male in the room shuddered. "Quite," Giles said, a distinctly uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. "Well, Wesley and I will start researching a mystical cure for this MYSTICAL illness. In the meantime I’d like you to avail yourselves of Det. Lockley’s expertise and go investigate the professor’s murder. See if there is in truth a link."

"She’s a blood-thirsty little minx isn’t she?" Wesley commented as the others left.

"Oh you have no idea," Giles replied.

* * *

"I'll never get used to this." Red was in full babble mode. "One day, she's at the friendship ceremony. The next day, she's on the news. The coroner's office said she was missing an ear. So I'm thinking, maybe we're looking for a witch. There's some great spells that work much better with an ear in the mix. "

The non-witch members of the group backed away from the witches. "Hey!" Amy protested. "It’s not our fault, we don’t make the rules!"

"Or...Or maybe an ear-harvesting demon that--it's, like, building another demon completely out of ears. Or...Ooh. Thought. We're just assuming someone else cut off the ear. What if it was self-inflicted, like van gogh?" Tara suggested.

Kate looked at Tara, a sceptical gleam in her eye. "So...She brutally stabs herself, dumped the body, then cut off her own ear?"

"Oh," the witch fell silent.

"Wait," everyone looked towards Gunn. "There’s something missing from this case. Early 1800 chumash knife. There's a picture."

"Two possibilities," Kate said. "Either that was used for the murder because it was the convenient choice."

"There’s scissors lying right there on the desk," Faith said distractedly, still worried about her man.

"Then Willow was right originally," Kate smiled at the Wicca. "Something has been loosened from the mission. The question is what and why?"

"Father Gabriel," Willow blurted out.

"Having priestly fantasies are we, Red?" Faith teased.

The red-head blushed. "He’s the local historian, he teaches at the college. His family dates back to mission times. He might be able to fill in some blanks."

"Sounds like a plan." Faith paused for a second. "Wiccas, go back and see if ya can help Tweed-boys with X," his name caught in her throat, god he had to be okay, "me, Gunn, and Kate will go and have a word with the padre."

* * *

"Father Gabriel? Father Gabriel?" Faith shoved the double-doors open and strode into the darkened church. "Father? Are you out here?" She stopped when she saw a tall, lean native American, his hair pulled back into a pony-tail, slicing an elderly priest’s throat, blood spilling out everywhere. "Oh, god," she croaked.

Faith charged towards the murderer, her friends following close behind, slamming a right into the Indian’s jaw, knocking him over a pew. The native American was up instantly, crouched in a defensive stance. "You can’t stop me, girl."

"Beg to differ."

The Indian rushed her. Faith sidestepped him, smashing a right into his head, knocking him into the wall. The native American spun around and slashed at her with his knife, forcing her to scurry backwards. The Indian followed up with a left that she ducked under before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards her. Her off-balance attacker fell on top of her, knife still in hand. "I am vengeance. I am my people's cry. They call for hus, for the avenging spirit to carve out justice."

"They tell you to start an ear collection?" Faith smirked. "Maybe you ain’t listening closely enough." She brought her knees up, slamming them into her opponent’s chest, propelling him into the wall. Leaping to her feet, she roundhouse-kicked at her opponent, he ducked and punched at her. She responded with a leg-sweep that knocked him to the ground.

Before the native American had chance to respond she was on him, forcing his knife-hand against his throat. "You slaughtered my people. Now you kill their spirit. This is a great day for you." Faith gasped when the man turned into a group of bats and flew off.

"That happen to you often?"

Faith turned and looked at the cop. "Never before."

* * *

"How’s things goin-," Faith’s voice broke off when she saw her honey, pale-faced but upright sat with the others studying. "X!" Rushing across the room, she threw herself in his arms. "You’re okay!"

Xander chuckled. "This from the girl who was going to geld me just a couple of hours ago."

"Ah," Faith smirked up at her boyfriend. "That’s only ‘cause I wanted to have them with me always."

"Oh please," Giles mumbled. "I feel ill."

"You’re not the only one," Wesley commented. "Miss Giles, I have some information about the chumash. It seems they were peaceful-."

"The guy Faith fought, he wasn’t no Martin Luther," commented Gunn.

"Note the past tense," Wesley sniffed. Faith hid a grin. Seemed Wes had found some other ‘bloody colonial’ to set him off. "They were imprisoned, forced into slavery, and caught many European diseases."

"Boy. Cultural partnership centre really didn't stress any of that stuff," Willow said.

"Quite," Giles nodded. "And it gets better. The few chumash who tried to rebel were hanged. And when a group was accused of stealing cattle, they were killed-- men, women, and children. And for proof to bring back to their accusers..."

"They cut off their ears," Wesley hurriedly interrupted.

"So Hus wasn't kidding about the rightful vengeance routine," Gunn said.

"He's recreating all the wrongs done to his people. And it's up to us to stop him," Giles continued.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be helping him?" Willow said.

Wesley sniffed. "No, Miss. Rosenberg, I rather think perhaps we won't help the angry spirit with his murderous rampage."

"Well, ok, no, but we should be helping him redress his wrongs. Bring the atrocities to light."

"If the history books are full of them, I'd say they already are," Xander put in.

"We should give him his land back," Willow said.

"And," Wesley sniffed, "how should we do that. Mass expedition to the land registry perhaps?"

"I don't think you wanna help. I think you just wanna slay the demon, then go-- La la la," Willow shot back.

"Yes, because going la, la, la, is something I dream about," everyone stared at Wes. He reddened. "I was being sarcastic."

"You’re British," Faith shrugged. "They’re all weird."

Giles glared at her. "We have to stop this thing."

* * *

"First people who dwell in mishupashup, hear me and descend. Walk with me upon itiashup again. Hear me also, nunashush. Spirits from below... Creatures of the night... Take human form and join the battle. Bring me my revenge." Hus smiled as 12 warriors materialised before him. "Come." He ordered. "It seems the invaders have a mighty champion. She must be slain before we can have our just vengeance."

* * *

Faith closed her eyes as Willow continued to argue with the two Watchers, Gunn occasionally chipping in unhelpful comments about oppression by the man. Suddenly the window shattered and an arrow thudded into the table. Looking up, she saw Hus stood in the window with a bow and arrow. "Get down!"

Faith hit the table, knocking it to the ground for cover as arrows rained through the window. "The weapons chest?" Gunn yelled. "Where is it!"

"There’s some weapons behind the front desk!"

"On it," Gunn looked at Wes. "You’re with me."

Suddenly they heard the first floor windows breaking. "I hope that’s not my room!" Xander yelled.

"Yes," Giles muttered, "because it was so tidy before."

"Here!" Faith caught a knife thrown to her by Gunn.

Hus charged through the front door. Faith leapt up to meet him, her foot smashing into his jaw. The native American spirit stumbled backwards. Faith took the opportunity to stab the spirit in the heart.

"Well that’s not good," she muttered when the blade sunk in with no effect. Her eyes widened when the demon slashed at her. Bending her knees, she allowed the blade to hurtle over her head. And into Hus’ other arm, spewing blood. "But your blade can hurt-."

She backed off when the Indian turned into a towering, roaring eight foot bear, his bared mouth displaying all of his jagged teeth. "That’s cheating!"

The bear swung at her. She fell into a forward roll and picked up the dropped knife. Turning to face the bear, she caught a backhand that threw her across the room. Stunned, she could only watch as the bear lumbered towards her.

"That’s my girl-friend!" Xander declared before smashing a chair in the bear’s back. The bear roared and turned towards her man. "Oh, boy," Xander paled.

"That’s my man," Faith surged to her feet and shoved the knife deep into the bear’s back, "and no damn furball messes with my man." The bear threw his head back and disappeared into a mist.

"Ah, we win again," Giles straightened himself, the spirit her adopted-father had been grappling with having disappeared with the rest. "I think," the Watcher looked around the chaotic foyer, "it’s time to clean up."

A chorus of groans greeted the Englishman’s suggestion.

"Sunnydale is a remarkable place, Rupert."

Rupert forced himself to focus on the police woman’s words rather than the brilliance of her blue eyes. "Yes, Kate," he nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Frightening, compelling, and exciting all at once."

"The stories you’ve told me," Kate shook his head. "It’s a staggering place."

"It’s never boring," he smiled. "That’s for sure."

"And the work you and your children do, I wouldn’t have believed it possible," again the beautiful law officer shook her head. "You do amazing work with and for these children, they really look up to you."

"Ah," Giles reddened slightly at the praise from the beautiful police woman he was developing feelings for. "I think you’re rather over-stating things. I was just extremely lucky to find myself surrounded by an amazing group of children. None of the credit is mine, not really."

He was surprised when the police officer reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Nonsense," she softly reproved. "I’ve seen how they all defer to and respect you." The police woman’s mouth parted in a dazzling smile. "Their words don’t often match their actions, though."

"Ah," Giles laughed. "Sad but true. I wouldn’t change them though," he admitted.

"Not even Xander?" Kate teased.

"Well, maybe him," Giles chuckled. He scowled as he looked at his watch. "Oh darn, almost time for Faith’s training." He winced inwardly at the bruises that would doubtless entail. He didn’t heal as quickly as he did in his twenties and thirties. "I’m afraid," he looked up at the detective, "I’ll have to be heading back to the business."

"Oh," Kate rose with him and followed him to the counter, "I’ll come with you. I want to read some more of those Watcher Diaries anyway, and although I hate to admit it, I always learn something watching Faith fight."

"Excellent," Giles forced a smile. Normally he’d enjoy the company of a lovely woman on a long walk, but not when the walk would end with her watching him being battered by a small girl half his size. Unmanly wasn’t in it.

* * *

"Ah," he stepped from the shadows, watching as the oblivious duo strode past him, arm in arm. "It’s good to catch up with old friends, Ripper. And a new chit on your arm?" he smiled. "You always were one with the ladies, Rupes. And still looking after those kids?" he chuckled. "And I just wonder how you’d feel about looking after them as kids."

* * *

Giles put down his paper and looked around, surprised by the quiet. At this time, both Faith and Cordelia were usually both up, bickering about some infernal pop band or godawful mind-numbing tv show. But not this morning. Shrugging, he turned the page. "Might as well make the most of the peace, Rupert old boy."

"I want my pony!" Giles turned his head towards the kitchen door, puzzled by the high-pitched voice behind him. His mouth dropped open and closed again, making a number of incomprehensible sounds. "Where’s my pony!"

A second tiny figure joined the first in the doorway. "If she gets a pony I wanna a puppy!"

"Cordelia, Faith," he looked from one five year old girl to the other. "What, how?" Shaking himself, he reached for the phone and dazedly dialled a number, eyes fixed on the two children before him. "Wesley, I think we have a situation."

* * *

"It was lucky, really," Wesley reported as he herded the three Wiccas into the hotel foyer. "Tara and Amy were both staying over at Willow’s to discuss witchcraft. With her parents away there were no witnesses. My only problem," the young Englishman snorted, "was persuading them to let me in. ‘Stranger Danger’."

"They hadn’t-," his voice trailed off, the concept too terrible to contemplate.

"Cast any spells?" Wesley shook his head. "Thankfully no. I see Xander and Gunn are likewise infected. The question is by what?."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "I’ve had some thoughts in that direction, gods, and spirits that could be invoked, spells used etc. From what I’ve been to ascertain their memories have remained almost intact but they’ve regressed emotionally and mentally as well as physically to the age of five."

"Ah," Wesley smirked, "only a physical change for Mr. Harris, then."

Giles chuckled. "Quite. But I’m going to need some time," he looked towards the hollering children, "and some peace and quiet. So it would be a great assistance if you and Kate took Faith and the others to the mall and got them some clothes."

"B…but," Wesley’s eyes bulged as they shot to the squalling children. "Surely you need my help with r…research."

"It’ll be a struggle, but I’ll manage. Goodbye," he said as he gently guided Wesley over to Kate. "And good luck."

* * *

"I don’t wanna go clothes shopping!" Xander yelled. "I wanna buy some games!"

"You’re dumb!" Cordelia stuck her tongue out at Xander. "Clothes are the best thing ever!"

"And you, you’re a sissy girl!" Xander shot back.

"Oh bloody hell," Wesley muttered as he looked around the busy mall, searching desperately for the salvation of a clothes shop. It appeared Cordelia had always been, well, Cordelia.

"I wanna get a tattoo!" screamed Faith, straining at his arm, dragging him half-way across the mall towards a parlour.

Wesley reddened as he realised that people were stopping and watching, incredulous at him being dragged across the busy mall by a shrieking brat a quarter his size. "She’s stronger than she looks," he explained before snapping at the disobedient child, "Faith, behave yourself! You are not getting a tattoo!"

"I hate you!" Faith screeched.

"Really?" Wesley muttered. "I hadn’t got that memo." Snatching up the wailing child, he marched her and the others into the nearest boutique.

An hour later and they’d got the entire troupe of horrors sorted. Wesley sighed in relief as he paid the bill, not caring that the bill ran close to two thousand dollars. Finally they got to return home. "Wesley," he looked towards Kate, busily keeping Xander and Gunn from using one another as a football, "where’s Faith?"

"Oh no," his heart dropped as he looked around to find the east coast hellraiser had disappeared. His heart clamped and twisted, had the demon who’d planned this spell used the opportunity to get his hands on the weakened youngster? Giles would have his bollocks in a vice.

"Sir," he looked towards one of the immaculately attired but increasingly weary-looking, she wanted to have his bloody job, shop assistants. "We found your niece," Wesley ignored the girl’s sceptical tone, it wasn’t like he wanted to be related to Faith but that was the cover story, "shop-lifting at the other end of the store."

Wesley groaned as the wailing child was dragged into view by a straining two hundred pound store detective. "Look," he bargained, "she’s just a child. We don’t need to involve the police. I’ll pay for anything she took and take it home with us."

Wesley reddened as the security guard pulled out a white lacy half-cup bra, red g-string, black silken thong, and a blood-red Basque. "Naughty clothes," commented the little girl with a smirk.

"Perhaps," he smiled weakly, ignoring the Slayer brat’s sniggers. "I’ll just pay for the goods and you can put them back on the shelves?"

"Are you sure that Basque isn’t your colour, Wesley?" asked Kate.

* * *

"Not another word from you!" Giles sighed as he heard Wesley’s hectoring tones outside the business. It appeared his peaceful sanctuary was about to be utterly destroyed. "That was not funny!"

"Well, the look on your face-."

"Don’t you start, Kate!" a clearly fraught Wesley snapped as the door swung open. "Seven children is quite enough!"

Giles stood. "Am I to deduce the shopping trip was eventful?" he smirked.

"Eventful?" Wesley was off on a tirade. "This little devil," he was unsurprised when his fellow Watcher pointed at an unrepentantly grinning Faith, "only went shop-lifting!" Giles shook his head. "But it gets bet-."

"P…please don’t hit anyone Mr. Wesley," sniffled Tara, eyes brimming with tears. "Faith was only playing."

All at once Wesley’s face crumpled. "Now you listen here, young lady." His younger country-man picked up the mini-wicca. "I might be angry, but I would never hit a child. That’s wrong and naughty. Understand?" The witch nodded meekly. "Mr.Giles, Kate, and I are going to look after you. Not hurt you because you’re our responsibility. That’s a big word," the Watcher looked around. "Do any of you know what it means?"

"Oooh! Ohh!" Willow started jumping on the spot, face red with excitement. "I do! It means you look after us!"

"Yes, it does." Wesley put down Tara. "Now why don’t you all play together?"

"Well handled, Wesley," Giles praised as his fellow Englishman and the American cop walked over to him.

"Um, it was nothing, Mr. Giles," his fellow Watcher reddened. "They’re just high-spirite-."

"Wes!" The three of them turned to see Faith bent over, hands on her knees, mooning them. "My ass, you face!"

"Charming, the very essence of ladylike sophistication," murmured Wesley before turning back to him. "Have you any leads?"

"Faith!" Giles roared. "Pull your pants up!" Sighing, he turned back to his fellow adults. "It appears the spell-caster invoked Gawaz."

"Ah," Wesley nodded. "Of course."

"Gawaz?" queried Kate. "I’m not up on this stuff like you two."

"Of course, sorry," he nodded. "He’s a Nigerian god, who amongst many other things is the spirit responsible for the protection of children."

"He sounds like a good guy," Kate commented, brow furrowed. "Why would he be involved in this?"

Giles’ mouth opened and shut. "Bloody good point," he mused. "He must have been tricked in some way to giving his power to a spell that he believed did something else. Whoever we’re dealing with is a tricky bugger."

"And arrogant, to mess with a god like this," Kate added.

"Of course!" suddenly the pieces fell into place. "Tricky, arrogant, a spell that’s irritating rather than life-threatening, it’s bloody Ethan Rayne!"

"Who?" Kate queried.

Engrossed in his seething, Giles barely heard the question. "Wesley, be a help and fill Miss. Lockley in. I’m going to try and concoct a spell that will help us track this rum bugger to his lair."

An hour later and he had it. "Gotcha!" he began to stand. "Now I can track the bugger and have a few words."

"Excellent," Wesley snatched the spell from him. "Kate and I will go track down Ethan, if it is him. You stay and look after the children."

"B….but," he stuttered, eyes wide with horror as he looked at the tiny terrors.

"You had us take them shopping," Wesley made for the entrance. "I rather think it’s your turn to enter the adventure that is childcare."

"Bye, Rupert!" Kate shouted as she hurried through the door after Wesley.

"Et tu, Bruti?" he muttered.

* * *

"I hate you!" Giles was shocked when Xander hit Gunn square in the mouth, knocking the small African-American onto his arse. "You’re a stinky poo-face!" the boy stared at his crying victim. "And you smell! You’re not my friend!"

"Xander!" in a second he was by the youth, pulling him away by his collar. "Apologise to Charles, right now!"

"WON’T!" Xander stared up defiantly at him.

"Then you’ll be going to your room, young man, to think about what you’ve done!" he snapped, eyes thunderous. "And you won’t be coming out until you’ve apologised!"

"You can’t make me!" the boy screamed, eyes filling with tears.

Suddenly the girls burst into tears. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Faith got up, foot swinging backwards as she readied herself to kick him.

He impaled her with a glare. "Don’t even think about it." The tiny brunette pouted before falling on her butt. "Thank you!" Scooping up Xander into his arms, he looked at the youth. "Your room for you, my boy."

"I hate you!" the boy wailed.

"You’re supposed to hate me, son," he replied as he hurried up the steps. "You’re dating my daughter." Once he’d dumped the still squalling boy in his room, he hurried downstairs to find Willow reading a magic book, and, his blood froze, Cordelia colouring a demonic reference work in. "Get your blo-, blathering paws off them!" he snapped as he snatched the books away.

Instantly both girls burst into tears. And Faith ran up to him. And stamped on his foot. "You’re mean!" the cheeky minx screamed up at him. "Leave Cor and Red alone!"

"That’s enough!" Giles roared, the last of his patience dissipating with his suddenly throbbing foot. "I’ve had it up to here with the lot of you! Sit down and be quiet!" Giles winced even as he thanked whatever gods there were, at least in her current condition, Faith only had perhaps a quarter of her normal strength, but his foot still hurt a bugger. "Hell," he ruminated sadly, "is a kindergarten."

And ‘his friends’ were going to pay for deserting him.

* * *

"This is the place," Wesley whispered.

Kate nodded as she looked up at the nondescript motel before her, the brown-painted motel on the outskirts of Sunnydale. Her blood pounded like it always did on a stake-out or raid. God, she missed this feeling, although her new life more than made up for it with adrenalin rushes. "Seems like the sort of place I’d stay if I wanted to be under the radar."

"Excellent," Wesley rubbed at his lenses. "Now I suggest we continue with a circumspect -."

The Watcher’s voice trailed off when she kicked the door jamb, splintering wood and sending the door crashing open. "Oh dear," Wesley muttered. "And what if it’s the wrong -," the Watcher’s voice trailed off as he registered the surprised man half-raising out of his seat by the window. "Ethan Rayne!" the Englishman’s voice filled with outrage. "I recognise you from the wanted list!"

The middle-aged man chuckled uneasily. "I make the wanted list, I’m flattere-."

The man’s voice trailed off when she stuck the muzzle of her gun under his chin. Face turning a sickly grey, he sat back down. "Don’t be," she declared. "Now, how do I break your spell?"

"I’m sure I don’t know what -." The man’s face greyed still further when she cocked the revolver.

"I’ve only just met you, and I’m already tired of the sound of your voice," she coldly informed the man. "How do we break your spell?"

The Englishman’s Adam’s Apple did a nervous dance. "I’m sure we can come to an arrangement-."

"No arrangement," she smiled sweetly. "I don’t know much about magic. But I understand plenty of spells can be ended by killing the caster. Now, I like those kids," her smile turned to a forbidding frown. "More than that, the world needs them. But you, from all the stories I’ve heard the world would be a better place without you in it. Shooting you wouldn’t cause me a second thought," she bluffed. She’d heard enough stories about Ethan Rayne from Wesley to get a read of his character, the man was a coward, convince him he was in danger and he’d do anything for you.

"I say, old boy," sweat was beading on Ethan’s face as his eyes swivelled to where Wesley was standing. "You can’t be serious about letting this bloody Colonial do this?"

"I rather think you’ve brought it on yourself, old bean," Wesley pronounced. "Given what I know about you and your past, and what I’ve seen these children do, your death wouldn’t cause me a second thought. And this is Sunnydale, the police are hardly going to search too diligently for an out-of-towner’s killer."

Kate was surprised by the younger Watcher’s sudden backbone. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

"In the top drawer," the Chaos mage pointed to the bedside cabinet. "There’s a book of African poetry. If you set it and the contents of the top drawer on fire, the spell will be broken."

"Good," Wesley stepped towards the cabinet before turning back to her and the chaos mage. "And once we’ve finished here, I’m sure Rupert will be eager to catch up."

Ethan greyed. "I’m sure Ripper will see this little joke in the spirit it was intended."

"I doubt that," Wesley opened the drawer, poked around for a few seconds and then dropped a lit match in it. In a few seconds the drawer was burning. The Watcher turned towards them, his mouth opening.

Kate blinked as she awoke, head thumping. "What happened?"

"My guess," Wesley scowled as he helped her to her feet, "is that the tricky bugger had the thing magically booby-trapped so that if Ripper found him, breaking the spell would make him pass out. He of course had already cast an immunity for himself and escaped."

"Damn," she cursed. "But the kids?"

Wesley smirked. "I called Giles, they’re fine. Although Faith does not like the pink dress you put her in."

Kate grinned. "I thought she looked cute."

* * *

"I was a real bitch wasn’t I?"

Giles looked up from his notes to see his charge stood in his office doorway, a troubled look on her face. "I failed to notice a difference from your usual behaviour," he joked. "Although I rather think Wesley was permanently scarred by the experience."

Faith’s face didn’t crack an inch. "I was thinking maybe it was my fault my mom didn’t -, didn’t have much use for me."

"Dear," Giles put down the report he’d been writing for the Council on Ethan’s activities and nodded at the empty chair at the opposite side of the desk. "Please, sit down." After a second the Slayer obeyed. "Faith," he stared sternly at his daughter. "I will say this only once and after this I don’t want hear another word on the matter. Your mother wasn’t only unfeeling, she was an idiot." Faith’s mouth opened. "Quiet. An idiot to see what an extraordinary daughter she had, beautiful, brave, spirited, intelligent, and kind. It was her fault, not yours."

He was treated to one of his daughter’s dazzling smiles. "Thanks, G." Faith fell quiet.

Noting the Bostonian’s furrowed brow, Giles sighed inwardly. It seemed the crisis wasn’t yet over with. "What’s wrong?"

"I..I," Faith licked her full lips. "I think Xander might be," the Slayer gulped, "racist."

Giles stared dumbstruck at his charge. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. "Whatever has led you to this staggering conclusion?"

"Way he treats Gunn, he’s like real cold. I mean today was the worst it’s been, but he barely speaks to the guy."

"Faith," Giles shook his head. "Xander is one of the most open-hearted people you could hope to meet, I doubt he’s racist. There weren’t any problems between him and Kendra were there?"

"You saw Ken, right?" Faith snorted. "Hot chicks are forgiven anything. And his dad’s a real prick, if there’s a redneck in town it’s Mr. Harris."

Giles conceded both points with a nod. It was a wonder that Xander was the fine young man he was with such an unmitigated arse like Tony Harris polluting his gene pool. "Nevertheless I sincerely doubt Xander is racist. I have noticed the tension between Xander and Gunn though, and I have another theory. If I may expand?"

Faith nodded. "You’ve got the floor."

"Thank you," he nodded. "You remember the Hyena episode?"

Faith’s face tightened, lips thinning. "I ain’t likely to forget that in a hurry."

"Quite, as you recall, Xander was the unquestioned leader of the possessed trio. In animal cultures that makes him the Alpha Male, the dominant male of the three. Are you with me so far?"

"Ain’t stupid, G."

Giles decided to let the proffered open goal about her S.A.T. scores suggesting otherwise pass. "Jesse and Jonathan deferred to Xander as their leader both when possessed and when ‘normal’. He was their unquestioned leader. While Gunn, a newcomer with enviable fighting skills, even more experience fighting vampires, and slightly older doesn’t accept Xander’s leadership. Ergo, on some primitive level, Xander feels his," Giles paused, "leadership, territorial rights, and first pick of the available females has been compromised."

"This is about sex!" Faith roared.

"Well, pride and position mostly."

"You guys are fuckin’ idiots, ya know that don’t ya?"

"Well if I didn’t, I do now," he dryly replied.

"I’ll have a word with Gunn," Faith decided. "Tell him-."

"Good lord, no," he shook his head. "That is the worst thing you could do. You alienate Gunn and humiliate Xander at the same instance."

Faith scowled. "So what do I do?"

"You do nothing," he raised a hand at the brunette’s opening mouth. "The two of them share a great deal of fine qualities. They’ll come to an understanding eventually. Just give them time."

"Great," Faith scowled. "And until then I’ll have to put up with X in a pissy mood and not interested in getting physical."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Yes, dear. Feel free to share," he muttered.

"Yay! Faith!" the bespectacled youth stopped, an uncertain look creeping over his face as Xander and Gunn flanked her as she strode into the residence halls. "Are these your friends?"

"Yeah, Ton," Faith leaned into Xander, pressing against him. "This is my baby, Xan," she fluttered her eyelashes. "And this hunk of chocolately goodness is Gunn."

Ton gulped, eyes jumping from Xander and to Gunn and back again. "Gun as in loaded weapon?"

"You know it," intoned the black man.

"Well, em," Ton gulped again. "Enjoy yourselves." The short nerd jumped into the heaving mass.

"He giving you problems, Faith?"

Faith chuckled at her man’s protective tone. "Not anymore hon." She looked around, her body already grinding to the music pounding out of the speakers. All around people were drinking, eating, and generally having a good time. This was the life, a party like this was a million miles away from the hovels she’d hung in as a kid.

And she looked a million dollars, every damn guy and more than a few of the gals in the place had shot her a covetous or envious look. She’d dressed in a low cut, lacy black midriff top, black leather jacket, and matching pants tucked into a pair of cowboy boots. Faith smirked, damn, she was the bomb.

Two hours later and the party was in full swing. "Come on X!" Faith shouted over the music concussive bass. "I wanna dance!"

"Again?" her boyfriend grinned wearily. "I’m exhausted."

"Lightweight!" she stuck her tongue out before looking towards Gunn. "How about it, Chuck?" the moment she’d spoken, she saw the shadow cross over X’s face. Oh shit, what had she done wrong now? Even as she opened her mouth to somehow right the situation, she felt it. Hairs pricking on her neck, she turned to see an attractive Oriental chick entering, flanked by three thuggish looking asses. "Shit," she muttered. "Stakes out, boys. Things are about to pick up."

* * *

Xia’s nose wriggled as she entered the party, lips wettening at all the young blood to taste, the carnage and pain she would cause. She glanced down at the garish flyer in her hand that had pronounced ‘open house’, giving her and her childes access.

"Hey bitch," a coal-eyed beauty stepped into her path, full lips parted in a smirk. "You coming here was the dumbest mistake of your unlife."

"Ah," Xia smiled as she registered the strange aura surrounding the curvy teen. "A Slayer, I killed one in the early 19^th century." The moment the girl blinked, she moved into the attack, shooting out a right heel kick.

The Slayer swayed away from the blow, chestnut hair swinging with the motion. Xia gasped as the supernatural warrior grabbed her leg at the ankle and knee. Kicking up with her left foot, she slammed her heel into the raven-tressed teen’s ample chest. "SHITTT!" the girl screeched as the blow lifted her off her feet and sent her flying into the buffet table. The table collapsed with a thud, food, punch, and plates flying everywhere.

A smile on her face, Xia started towards the Slayer. "Hey!" A beefy crew-cutted footballer stepped in her way. Without breaking stride she punched him in the throat. The youth gasped as his larynx collapsed and he fell to his knees, struggling for a breath that would never come.

"Bitch!" By the time she reached the Slayer, she’d had reached her feet. Swaying away from a left hook to the jaw, she grunted as she caught a right body shot to the stomach. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed a knee aimed at her crotch. She caught the Slayer’s smirk a half-second before her head smashed into her face, her nose shattering under the impact.

Stunned, she staggered backwards, dazedly noting the place was emptying of panicked students. But, she focused on the destructive whirlwind facing her, she’d feast on the finest of blood tonight.

Counter-attacking with a screech, she slashed out at the Slayer. "Crap!" the Slayer recoiled as her nails sliced through her left cheek just below her eye. A triumphant smirk on her face, Xia tried for a second slash with her left hand. The Slayer dropped into a crouch, her attack flew harmlessly overhead.

Xia kicked out at the crouched female, the toe of her trainer smashing into the side of the curvy brunette’s head. Xia’s smile widened as the blow lifted the Slayer off the ground and sent her cart wheeling back into the ruined table. Striding over to the crumpled girl lying face-down in the destroyed table, she grabbed her by her hair and yanked her limp body up. "Time to die."

"Couldn’t agree more," her eyes widened when the girl twisted around to face her, snatched her locket and pulled her towards her, her other arm lunging up with a broken table leg in hand, thrusting into her chest.

* * *

"Oh, dear, oh dear," Wesley shook his head. "This isn’t good at all."

"Vamp dead," Faith snapped, "what’s the problem?" She wasn’t in her best ever mood, she knew the scratches on her cheek wouldn’t leave a scar, a bonus of Slayer healing, but they itched like hell. Worse was the fact that two kids had got killed in the party. Maybe if she’d been a little quicker…

"No, Faith," Wesley shook his head. "You don’t understand. I thought I recognised this," the younger Watcher held the golden locket she’d taken off the oriental vamp. "Is the Lotus Eye."

"Oh good lord," Giles said. Faith just looked blankly at Xander and Gunn.

Wesley let out one of his long-suffering sighs. Hey, Faith shrugged, fighting was her thing, being a geeky bookworm was Wes’. "This," the Watcher held the locket aloft again, "was given to Xia, the vampire you battled, by Bolit Smyert, her sire and lover, and the 600 year old vampire king of Russia some two hundred years ago. He’s an exceptionally vicious vampire."

Faith nodded. "Heavy. One question? Is that locket worth much?"

* * *

"I note Miss. Chase is late again," Wesley trilled as he cleaned the foyer desk. "Was she gallivanting again last night?"

"Oh bloody hell, Wesley, give the girl a little space. Weren’t you young once-," Giles stared at his counterpart and shook his head. "Never mind I withdraw the question."

"That’s as maybe," Wesley sniffed. "But we are paying her good money for a job that she simply hasn’t turned up for. And this makes it the third time this mo-."

"Oh do belt up," he wearily passed the younger Englishman the phone. "If you’re that worried ring her."

"Ring her?" Wesley paled. "Miss. Chase can be rather cutt-. That is to say I rather feel it’s your job as our operation’s leader."

"Very well," Giles sighed as he took the phone, acceding to the inevitable. Either he rang Cordelia and got a mouthful of pointed comments, or he spent the next few hours putting up with Wesley’s wittering and then rang Cordelia and got a mouthful. What a bloody choice. They never mentioned life would be like this in Watcher training. The phone rang and rang but nobody answered. After over a minute of vainly waiting he hung up. "That is worrying," he admitted, brow furrowed.

"Didn’t you check in on her before you left for work? Perhaps try and hurry her along?"

"You really have no experience with young women, have you?" Giles grabbed his coat. "Come on, we best check on her."

* * *

"I’m afraid, Mr. Giles," Giles groaned inwardly. All the way to his house, Wesley had continued to blather on, "you’ll have to have a word to the young lady."

"Me?" he exclaimed. "Why me?" he looked at his companion. "Oh, of course. For a second I was talking to a real man. Silly me."

Wesley scowled as he opened the door to Cordelia’s room. "I hardly think-. Mother of God?"

Cordy stared out of the window. "G…Giles."

Giles rushed through, wrapping an arm around the clearly eight months pregnant woman. "It’s alright.  We’re here."

Cordy rubbed at her puffy eyes. "I’m ready to wake up now.  I - I don’t seem to be - waking up.  -  Help me."

"We’re going to." Giles soothed.  "What do you remember?"

"Well, we went to the club.  And Wilson and I just sort of hid out on this couch and talked, then he drove me home and I asked him in. He was really nice.  And we ah, - you know?  He was normal and it was all really safe!" Cordelia looked down at her huge belly. "This is impossible!"

"Shh, shh.  It’s okay.  Have you talked to Wilson?"

Cordy shook her head. "No.  I haven’t talked to anyone.  What would I say to him? I had a really great time.  I think you left something at my place?  I don’t think this is right."

"Let me speak to Wilson." Giles reached for the former cheerleader’s cordless phone and holds it out to her:  "What ever is happening to you, he may have some answers."

Cordy shook her head, eyes filling with panic. "I can’t."

"I’ll do the talking," Giles soothed.  "Just dial his number and I’ll talk to him."

Cordelia reached out a shaking hand and dialled the number, eyes tearing. "Oh, God.  I’m being punished."

"Come now," Wesley shook his head. "You’re certainly not being punished.  We’ll get to the bottom of it."

Giles grimaced at the machine’s recorded message. "The number you have reached has been disconnected, there is no new number at this time." Forcing a smile, he hung up. "He’s not answering right now.  I want you to rest, and we’re going to handle this.  Hey!  You’re not alone."

Cordy stared down at her belly:  "That’s sort of the problem, isn’t it? Could you - just leave me alone for now?"

"Of course," Giles bowed his head slightly. "We’ll just be outside." The moment the door closed behind them, Giles looked towards his companion, mouth opening.

"I’ll start phoning immediately," Wesley pre-empted him.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Faith stared at her best friend. "I ain’t no biology–major but doesn’t this sort of thing normally take nine months?" The raven-tressed beauty looked at Xander. "And no fucking way are you getting me knocked up, she’s the size of a fucking house!"

Giles groaned at Faith’s less than subtle comments. "Faith, outside now."

"What?" the Slayer’s gypsy-brown eyes widened. "But-."

"Now," he pointed to the door. A sulky pout on her face, the Slayer stalked outside. "Gunn," he looked towards the African-American, "would you?"

"Sure, man." The LA street-warrior nodded.

* * *

"Willow, Amy, Tara, help us research mystical pregnancies. Faith, you take Kate and Xander and track down Wilson Christopher, here are the details."

The moment the others had moved away onto their respective jobs, Wesley turned to him. "Hmm, a demon who can only reproduce by implanting a human woman with its seed.  Yes, I’ve heard of such entities. - The human mothers..."

Giles scowled. "Rarely survive labour, and the ones that do, wish they hadn’t."

Wesley shook his head. "If she’s that pregnant in one night, she could give birth at any moment."

Giles sighed. "We have to move fast.  We’re gonna have to send Gunn to see what’s inside her."

Wesley gaped. "I beg your pardon?"

Giles chuckled. "Pre-natal exam, Wesley?"

"Oh, of course." His fellow Watcher smiled. "I’ll go and inform the lucky fellow."

* * *

"Let me handle this," Xander strode up to the bar and cleared his throat.

The bartender turned to them, gave Faith and Kate lingering glances and him an appraising one. "What can I get you?"

Xander tried a smile. "I need some help."

The bartender shook his head. "I’m kinda busy."

"I can see that," Xander nodded. "I won’t take much of your time.  A friend of mine was here last night.  Her name is Cordelia.  Big smile, really pretty?"

"That’s not narrowing the field in here," the bartender commented.

"Look, I’m a working stiff like you," Xander looked around the plush bar. "Nice place. If you’ve got the money. My guess is they wouldn’t let a pair of guys like us near the door in here if we weren’t working. One of those moneyed jerks hurt my friend.  I need to find him, fast."

The bartender’s face relaxed slightly. "Who was it?"

"Wilson Christopher. Look, I want to know who his friends are, where they hang..."

"Pretty much where ever Sarina tells them to," the bartender replied.

"Sarina?" Kate cut in.

"Yeah," the bartender nodded. "Sarina and her girls travel in packs.  The guys have the money, the girls have the pretty.  The girls decide what club’s the flavour of the month and Sarina rules the girls."

Kate nodded and turned to leave. "Thanks."

"So you’re her friends?" the bartender asked.

"No," Faith glanced over her shoulder. "We’re family."

* * *

"It’ll be cool, Cordy," Gunn squeezed the cheerleader’s hand, shocked by the vulnerable side he’d never seen to the statuesque beauty. He looked around the waiting room. "Doc will be with us in a minute."

"Do you know what it is?" a pregnant woman asked from across the sanitised room. Cordy stared bulging-eyed at the woman. "Boy or girl?"

"We’ve decided to leave it as a surprise," Gunn hurriedly put in. Oh boy, had they ever.

* * *

The doctor prodded at Cordelia. "You’re what, eight and a half months along?"

"And yet," Gunn commented from beside the teen, "it feels like only yesterday, doesn’t it?"

The doctor stared at them for a second before speaking. "I see you left a lot of blanks on the patient information form.  It would help to have the name of your previous doctor?"

"You’re the only doctor we’ve been to..."

Gunn jumped in. "Yeah, our insurance has only just kicked in."

"So, how are you feeling?" the doctor smiled at Cordelia.

"How do you think I’m feeling!" Cordelia screeched. "I’m as big as a house, everything hurts!"

The doctor gulped at Cordelia’s tirade. "That’s all normal at this stage. And once your little one comes out, which will probably be in no time, you’ll feel a lot better."

"God, it’s a nightmare!" Cordelia wailed.

The doctor and the nurse stared at Cordelia. Gunn took the cheerleader’s hand and squeezed it. "Hold on, dear."

"All right," the doctor’s smile was becoming more strained by the second, "Mrs. Penborn, why don’t you lie back and see what’s baking in the oven?"

After a second Cordelia laid back on the couch. The doctor started the ultra sound. "Have you folks settled on a name yet?  It’s the hardest part for a lot of people."

"I’m thinking of maybe Jordan after the man," Gunn said.

"Not in this lifetime," Cordelia muttered, sweat beading on her forehead.  

The doctor stared at the monitor. "Hmm, looks like somebody is having twins."

"Twins!!!!" Gunn and Cordelia cried out in unison.

The doctor stared at the screen:  "No, there’s a third heartbeat."

"A third," Gunn looked over the doctor’s shoulder.

"Five... six," the doctor gasped.

"I’ll never wear a swimsuit again," Cordy sobbed with a look at her distended stomach.

Gunn noted the doc’s paling face. "What is it?  What’s wrong?" Gunn demanded.

The doctor: smiled weakly. "I’m sure it’s nothing.  But I’d like to withdraw  - a little of the amniotic fluid just, just to make sure that everything is shipshape. So, nurse, if you would prep Mrs. Penborn right away?"

* * *

"Sarina?" Faith slammed on the door. She resisted the urge to shudder as she surveyed the dingy hallway, memories of a very similar one she’d spent her formative years in and would have probably ended her adult life in but for G. "Sarina!"

"Just leave it outside."

"Sarina, My name’s Faith, I’m Cordelia’s friend. Can I come in?"

"Okay."

Faith nodded at the others. "Stay here." Faith walked in to find a dark candlelit room, a black woman with her back to her lighting another candle. "Sarina?"

"The light hurts my eyes lately." Sarina lifted a bottle to her lips. "I thought you were the liquor store. I’m almost dry. I know what you’re thinking.  I shouldn’t, right?" Faith’s jaw dropped when the woman turned to face her, she was as pregnant as Cordy. "It’ll hurt the baby?  I hope!"

"Houston," Faith muttered. "We have a problem."

Sarina stepped towards her, eyes desperate, bewildered. "It’s like it’s not real, but it is.  Right?  It’s really happening?"

Faith blinked. "It’s happening. And to Cordy too."

"Oh, God.  -  I can’t reach Jason.  He’s gone."

"So is Wilson," Faith replied.

Sarina slumped onto a couch. "I didn’t know this would happen."

"But you knew something?" Faith started slightly at Kate’s ‘cop’ voice behind her.

"Yeah, I knew, I knew, I knew the guys, - Jason and Nick, and then Wilson wanted to meet Cordelia.  I don’t know.  I knew something wasn’t right.  Their money...?"

"What about their money?" Kate pressed.

"It’s stupid.  It kind of - smelled. I mean, *really* smelled.  And sometimes the guys were jumpy. But this town, - you know?   Things are weird and you stop asking questions.  You sure this is really happening?"

Faith sat down on the edge of the table in front of her:  "Do you have someone you can call?"

"Call?" Sarina looked confused, disorientated.

"Family?"

Sarina shook her head:  "No.  No one.  The guys seemed like they liked that.  Wilson asked about Cordelia and I told him that she didn’t have anybody either."

Faith scowled. Big fucking mistake. "Sarina," she glanced towards Kate. "Where can I find-."

Sarina bent down and screamed.

* * *

"Ahhh!"

Gunn grabbed the cheerleader as she doubled up and nearly fell. Looking up, he yelled through the hotel’s front door. "Guys? Help here!"

In a second Wes and Giles had run out, faces lined with anxiety. "There’s a brave girl," Wesley soothed as he helped the cheerleader to a couch.  "Just relax, get comfortable, well, as comfortable as is possible at any rate." The Watcher threw a blanket over the pregnant teen. "Should you need anything, anything at -."

Cordy stared at the Watcher. "You’re afraid?"

A shocked silence was broken by a laugh form behind them. "Scared?" Gunn looked towards the curvy Slayer stood in the foyer, the others behind her. "Of course he’s scared, he’s Wes."

The Watcher glared at the brunette. "Quite. Giles has his books. Xander has his puns. Faith has a foul mouth. Fear’s my thing."

"Yeah, well look at this," Gunn dropped his bombshell. "The ultra sound results.  Seven heartbeats, at least, maybe more."

"Good lord," Giles breathed. "Someone’s raising an army."

"An army of what?" Xander asked.

"Good question.  We need to find the demon fathers." Giles said.

Cordelia rubbed at her belly. "There are 7 of them.  There are 7 of his children growing inside of me.  They are talking to me.  They’re talking all at once.  I can’t understand."

Giles stared at the former rich girl. "Cordelia, I know how difficult this must be for you..."

"No!" the cheerleader shouted. "You don’t have a clue!"

"Okay," the Watcher seemed nonplussed.

"You don’t know what it’s like to be a partner in creation."

Everyone stared at one another. Giles coughed. "Yes, quite. Wesley, would you assist Gunn in taking Cordelia through to one of the rooms."

"Not mine," Xander interrupted. "No way is her water breaking in my -." The youth grunted as Faith’s elbow smashed into his ribs. The Slayer shook her head.

* * *

Giles turned to the others as soon as he’d led them into the inner office. "Any luck locating Wilson?"

"Not yet." Kate replied. "But we did find Cordelia’s friend Sarina.  She’s a victim, too.  As big as Cordelia.  Wilson’s rich buddies are in on it."  The cop picked up a phone book and began flipping through it. "Four of them, maybe more, I don’t know how many women they’ve impregnated."

Giles peered over the policewoman’s shoulder. "Gun clubs?"

"Sarina said Wilson and his buddies hang out at some private gun club.  Guns are their hobby.  She doesn’t know where exactly.  While I find them you should be narrowing down the species.  Maybe we can figure out a way to terminate this without hurting her?" Faith explained.

"And if we can’t?" Willow asked.

Wesley sighed. "But if we can’t then we need to know what to do once they’re born."

Giles nodded. "Yes, well, it mustn’t come to that.  The odds of her even surviving are..."

"She’s gonna survive," Faith snapped, the ferocity in her eyes making him take a step back. "I was ya, I’d be a shit-load more worried about Wilson and his crew. X, Kate, you’re with me. The rest of you, hit the books."

* * *

"Hey."

The man turned to face her and leered. After taking off his ear protection and safety goggles, the man spoke. "Hey yourself. This is an exclusive club," the man pulled out an empty magazine and put in a new one. "Not that I’m complaining of course. Always nice to see a pretty face around the place."

Faith smirked. "Yeah right. I’m a friend of Cordelia Chase."

Wilson’s leer turned to a scowl in a heartbeat. "This is a private club.  Featured word, private?"

Faith chuckled coldly. "You don’t talk to me, I’ll kick your ass.  Featured word - ass?"

The man laughed. "Oh yeah, and how’s a pretty little thing like you gonna do that."

"Oh like this," Faith’s foot smashed into the man’s groin even as she grabbed the wrist of his gun-arm and twisted. The bone snapped like a pistol crack and Faith caught the gun as it joined the wheezing man in falling to the ground. "Did I do okay?" Faith tilted her head to one side. "And don’t go looking for your buds, my friends are dealing with them. Now talk or things are gonna get messy. They’ll be blood, gore, dismemberment, screaming."

* * *

"Eeesh!"

Giles hurried over to Willow. "What’s wrong?"

He paled as the red-haired witch held up an engraving. "I…I think that’s the beast."

"O….oh dear," Wesley peered over his shoulder. "Now girls, let’s not overreact. Keep in mind that oft times these 16th century engravers tended to exaggerate.  I - I know it seems dire, but now that we’ve identified the species, there is every chance that we will be able to stop what’s happening to Cordelia.  We mustn’t lose hope."

"Quite right, old boy," Giles nodded. "Amy, go and check on Cordelia."

"Yes, Giles," the witch hurried out only to return two minutes later, a worried look on her face, and a stunned-looking Gunn leaning on her. "She’s gone. She attacked Gunn and ran."

Giles groaned. "Bloody mar-." He broke off when the phone began ringing. "Now is not the soddin’ time!"

* * *

"Hello?"

Faith smirked at G’s grunt. "Yo, it’s your favourite Slayer."

"Faith, thank god!"

"We found Wilson.  Whatever it is Cordelia is carrying around inside her, he’s not the father."

"I know.  It’s a Hacksaw beast, an inner earth demon.  But we’ve got greater problems, Cordelia has run off. I fear she may have gone off to rendezvous with it.?"

"She has.  Miliken Industrial Park in downtown. "

"I beg your pardon?" Giles queried.

"That’s where Wilson and his friends built their shrine," Faith explained.

"How does Cordelia know that?" G queried.

"She’s telepathically linked to its unborn.  That’s how it’s controlling Cordelia."

"Of course, a psychic umbilical cord." Faith rolled her eyes, that’s what she’d said without the complicated bs. "The Hacksaw’s telepathic connection is what’s sustaining its unborn spawn."

"So, all we have to do is cut the cord." Faith smiled.

"We slay this demon and poof! No more evil pregnancies.  Well, this is good news.  We can end this without harming the women. There is just one tiny problem."

"What’s that?"

"Well, I don’t wish to use the words impossible to kill, but fire wont kill it, decapitation won’t, - and it’s really huge." Giles paused, Faith could hear Wesley muttering something in the background. "Bloody genius, Wes! Does Kate have her gun on her?"

"Say what?"

* * *

Wesley wrinkled his nose as he stepped out from the shadows, Kate by his side, and hurried out to where Cordy and the other five girls had climbed into what had to be the world’s smelliest birthing pool in the centre of a disused factory. "Cordelia!"
He walked up to the edge of the vat:  "Come out of there this instant!" He looked at all of the girls. "All of you please!"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Do you have to be so school-marm?"

"We don’t expect you to understand," Cordelia said, her voice hauntingly serene.

"I understand." He crouched by the vat’s concrete rim. "You’ll die unless you come with me, and that is the most vile smelling filth I’ve ever had the displeasure of inhaling.  Now don’t make me come in there after you."

"We serve our master," Sarina said.

"Please come before..."

"Too late," Kate breathed.

The ground began to shake with thundering footsteps.  Wes gulped as he looked up to see a twelve foot tall Hacksaw demon stepping through a hole in the wall. "Oh bollocks, the picture wasn’t to scale alright, it was too bloody small!"

"Who are the interlopers to think you could disturb the birth of my children?  Who are you?"

Wes surprised himself by rising and stepping forward. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, demon hunter." He took a boxing stance. "And I’m here to fight you, Sir, to the death, - preferably yours."

"You?" the demon snorted.

"Boy," Kate muttered beside him. "You sure get that a lot."

"As a heathen I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the biblical story of David and Goliath.  But I assure you it’s of particular relevance to this situation."

"And before you ask," Kate said beside him. "Yes, he’s always like this."

"You said you came here to do battle, then lets fight and be done." The demon rumbled.

Wesley smiled at the sound of something heavy rolling down the floor behind them. "Sorry I’m late to the baby shower.  Brought a little gift." The Slayer picked up the tank and flung it at the demon who caught it easily.

Wesley and Kate pulled out guns and shot holes in the tank.  Stunned, the Hacksaw dropped the tank , streams of liquid nitrogen shooting out of the holes.  The demon screamed in the fog, its screams echoed by the women in the vat, their bellies shrinking. Faith joined them in staring up at the giant icicle even as Giles and Xander released giant pulleys from their positions on the second floor, sending them crashing into the ice statue, smashing it.

* * *

"Gunn was just amazing," Cordy cooed as she squeezed the LA. native’s hand. "He made realise that there’s more than just one-," a shadow briefly crossed the former cheerleader’s face. "That there’s other decent guys out there. So we’re dating!"

Faith’s smile faded at her best friend’s newfound happiness as she noticed Xander slipping away, a thunderous look on her lover’s face. This had gone far enough, she decided. X had some explain’ to do, and screw what G said about leavin’ it. Stepping away from the congratulations, she started after her man.

"What is your problem!" Faith seethed as she chased after Xan, catching up with him in the alley that led from their offices. "And if you’re gonna tell me you’re jonesing for Cor, ya better start running-."

"She’s Jesse’s girl."

That brought Faith up short. "Honey," she said softly. "Jesse’s dead."

"Don’t you think I know that!" Xander shouted, tears in his eyes. "It’s like no-one else cares. Cordy got a new guy, and I’m supposed to accept Gunn as his replac-." Suddenly her man was leaning against the wall, tears rolling down his face, body shaking as he wept uncontrollably. "N—no-body misses him but me!"

Suddenly all Xander’s hostility made sense. "Oh baby," in a second Faith had her arms around Xander’s shoulders, pulling him into her. "That’s not true. We all miss him."

Riley’s eyes widened when he saw the brunette beauty who’d just walked into the strobe-lit university bar. She was maybe five five with a leather-clad body that just didn’t quit, raven hair that bounced as she stalked through the club like she owned it, framing her heart-shaped alabaster face, a wickedly inviting smirk on her full lips. "Whoa, babe alert," commented Graham.

"I’d say," Forrest agreed.

"Serious babe alert," Riley corrected before taking a swig of his beer bottle and a winking at his friends. "Don’t expect me back at the house tonight." After taking a round of high-fives off his friends, he strolled over to the curvy beauty as she stood by the bar. "Hey beautiful," he flexed his arm for maximum effect, "buy you a drink?"

"Sorry hon," the girl turned towards him. All at once he was struck by both the girl’s sexy huskiness and the depth of her dark brown eyes. "But I’m waitin’ for my-," suddenly the girl’s lips parted in an intoxicating smile. "Yo Xand! Sorry, Cornfed, gotta go!"

"Oh boy," Riley watched as the raven-haired lovely sauntered gracefully across the heaving dance floor, "did she ever blow you out," taunted Graham.

"Crashed and burned," Forrest agreed with a punch to the shoulder.

Riley squeezed onto the bar counter, the wood cracking under his fingers, as he endured his friends’ baiting. He just hoped one day he came across the little bitch getting attacked by a vampire.

He guessed that night he’d be a little slow to get there.

* * *

"Hey gang!" Faith greeted as she dropped into the booth that the gang had taken up. It was crowded with five gals and two guys in it, but that was how she liked it, all her friends around her.

"Who was that?"

Faith smirked as she saw her boyfriend glaring towards the bar where the guy who’d hit on her was being ‘comforted’ by his friends. He was so protective, it was so damn sweet. "Just some guy who hit on the hotness that is me," she nestled into X’s side. "But I said I had this thing for sweaty construction workers."

"Oh please," a green-looking Cordy smirked. "I’m going to vomit."

"Hello," Faith looked towards Gunn with eyebrow raised, "hypocritical much?"

"It’s not the dating construction workers I have a problem with." Cordy smirked as she squeezed Gunn’s arm. "They’re pleasingly hunky. My problem is dating Xander."

"Damn Chuck," Faith winked at the African-American. "Are ya blushing there, stud?"

Three hours later and Faith was leaving the toilet en-route to grabbing the gang and heading out on patrol. "Hey sweetheart."

Faith looked up in disinterest at the tall, scrawny man blocking her way. He was long-faced, with a face that was all sharp corners, weak blue eyes, and violently blonde almost white hair. Damn, he looked repulsive. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking I could get you a drink," the man said in an accent that was straight out of ‘Mary Poppins’.

"I’ve got someone. Thanks but no thanks," Faith attempted to step around the man but he stepped into her path.

"Oh come on," the man reached out a hand to stroke her hair. "Old Strike will show you a good-, ahhhh!"

"Lesson to the wise," Faith warned as her hand blurred out to grab the man’s hand and bend his fingers back. The man’s legs buckled under him, forcing him to his knees. "No means no. You get me?" the teary-eyed man nodded. "Good, now I won’t be seeing you around me or mine again will I?"

"N…no," the man gasped.

"Right answer," Faith released her grip and stepped around the man. "See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya."

* * *

Strike glared up at the raven-haired bitch as she strode past him, her ass no longer wiggling seductively, but mockingly, the pain in his fingers unimaginable. "You bitch," he growled as he watched her dare to kiss another man. "You’ll pay." Under his breath he started to utter a spell, a smile slowly spreading across his face. No one said no to William Strike, no one.

* * *

"Hello Cordelia," Giles looked up from his morning paper, surprised to see it was the former cheerleader, the usual late-riser, rather than Faith who was up first. "There’s coffee in the pot."

"Thank you, Giles."

Cordelia sniffed as she smelt the coffee. Seeing the former rich girl’s mouth opening in a familiar complaint, he pre-empted her. "If you want the expensive brands, you’ll have to find the money to pay for them," he gently chided.

Cordelia pouted before pouring a cup and sitting down. They sat in companionable silence for a while, him reading the previous day’s ‘Times’, and the cheerleader perusing some ghastly fashion magazine or other.

And then the kitchen door flew open, and a thunderous-looking Faith stalked in. "That rat bastard!"

"And a good morning to you -." Giles trailed off as the Slayer stalked past them both without even a nod or a grunt and stormed out, front door slamming behind her. Shaking his head at his foster-daughter’s rudeness, they’d have words later, not that it would do any good, he turned to her best friend. "Did they argue last night?"

Cordelia shrugged. "No more than usual."

"Ah," Giles nodded sagely. "That bad, eh?"

* * *

Gunn groaned as he looked at the vast amount of ground they had to dig up for foundations. The only thing that would make this back-breaking misery worse would be – he glanced around at his companion. Oh yeah, he’d got the president of his fan club, Xander Harris. Life sucked.

Gunn stretched back, allowing the kinks in his lower back to straighten out. "How long before break, Xander?"

The younger man glanced towards his watch. "About another te-, oooof!"

Gunn gasped when the youth was hit by a black blur, knocking him to the ground. It took a second for his stunned mind to recognise the lithe figure as Faith, another second to register that she had her hands wrapped around the bluing man’s throat, squeezing for all she was worth. Stepping forward, he grabbed the Slayer’s shoulder. "Faith, you’re killin-."

The Slayer didn’t even look up as she backhanded him into the air. Hitting the ground with a thud, Gunn struggled to his feet and started forward. Seeing his spade on the ground, he lifted it up, muttered a silent prayer, stepped forward, and brought the flat of his makeshift weapon down on the brunette beauty’s head. "Ooof," he gulped when the Slayer looked up at him, almost losing bladder control there and then, only to gasp when she slumped forward. After a second, he reached forward and gingerly pulled her off the still wheezing man.

"Tell me you’re not dumb enough to be cheating on Faith?" Gunn queried as he nervously eyed the unconscious Slayer. God he hoped he hadn’t hit her too hard to cause permanent damage. But on the other hand, he really didn’t want her waking up too soon. "Never mind the powers, what about the hotness?"

"Must be," the boy dry-heaved for a few seconds, "under a," the youth coughed, "spell."

"Yeah," Gunn helped the teen to his feet before picking up the Slayer and hefting her over one shoulder, visions of the KKK lynching him for hitting a white woman dancing through his mind, "because you’re just so lovable."

Xander’s glare lacked its normal power. "Let’s get her to Giles."

* * *

Giles beamed as the foyer door opened. "Cordelia, clients?" He sighed and shook his head when the girl failed to look up from her magazine. "I’ll get that shall I?" he sniffed.

"Thanks. And a coffee would be good too." as usual his sarcasm was lost on the former high school queen. To make a point with Miss. Chase, one needed a chisel and a rather large hammer. Sighing slightly, he made his way out from the office and into the reception area. His mouth dropped open when he made his way through to find Gunn carrying his child’s limp body over his shoulder and a considerably worse for wear Xander trailing behind. "What the bloody hell have you two buggers done!"

The African-American reared back at his Ripperish growl. Xander, more used to his temper, slumped into a chair, the look on his face resembling that of shell-shock. "What’s the racket!" Wesley rushed into the foyer, his eyes widening at what he saw. "Now, Giles, I’m sure they have a good reason. Let’s not be injudicious, huh? After all, blood is such a bugger to get out of the carpet, and we really don’t need to replace the furniture in here again. Not twice in one month."

"I’m not laughing, Wesley," he warned, eyes still fixed on the LA. native as the young man carefully lowered the Slayer’s limp body onto the reception room’s table

"I wasn’t joking," Wesley muttered. "Overheads, Giles, over-."

"What have you done to Faith!" Cordy’s screech from behind him caused cracks to appear on the windows.

"That’s right," muttered Gunn. "Blame the black man. You guys could give lessons in racial profiling to Mark Fuhrman."

"She attacked me," Xander rasped. Giles paled as he noticed the bruising on the young man’s throat. Faith had done that? "When Gunn tried to stop her," the young man briefly wheezed for breath, "she threw him to the ground, so he hit her over the head with a spade." Giles winced as he noticed the egg-sized bump on top of his unconscious Slayer’s noggin. "And before you ask," the youth coughed, "no I didn’t do anything."

"Right," Giles stared at the comatose beauty. "We’ll have to do some rese-."

"You bastard!" Faith suddenly sat bolt upright. Before any of them had a chance to move, she’d leapt off the table and at Xander.

"Oh bugger!" Giles looked towards Wesley before lunging at the enraged beauty, his fellow Watcher a half-second behind. "Help me!"

It took the two of them and Gunn to drag the berserk brunette off him, their muscles straining. And in those scant seconds, she’d already bloodied a disbelieving Xander’s mouth and closed his right eye. "Bastard! Asshole!"

"Faith calm down!" Giles yelled to no effect. Turning his attention to the dazed youth, he shouted over his charge’s foam-mouthed rantings. "Get out of here, now!"

The young man looked dazedly at him. "Move it Xander, we can’t hold her for long!"

"B…but."

"Go!" Wesley added his voice to the clamour.

Finally the youth stumbled to his feet and staggered out of the building. He’d barely cleared the door when Faith shrugged off Wesley, sending Giles’ fellow countryman falling onto the table with enough force to splinter it in two. Instantly the snarling Slayer started for the door. Giles winced when Cordy drove a chair square into the Slayer’s back, knocking her sideways. Faith turned, backhanded the foolishly brave cheerleader to the floor and charged out of the door.

"Okay," Cordelia stared after the departing duo as he helped her back up. "So when did Faith turn into Alex Forrest?"

* * *

Faith snarled as she saw the pick-up fleeing out of the way. "You’ll pay," she snarled. "I’ll kill you, you bastard." Face contorted in a scowl, she started through the streets, heedlessly pushing people out of the way.

* * *

"I have an idea," Amy whispered to Willow as her friends talked about Faith’s magically-brought on psychosis. This was an opportunity, a chance to get something that her and Willow did on their own, Tara had cut into her alone time with her girl-friend, but this would get them closer again. "A friend who might be able to help."

Willow turned to her, eyes filled with a desperate hope. "But we can’t tell the others."

"Okay," Willow looked towards the others sat around the book-strewn table, Cordelia holding an ice-pack to her face. "Guys," the two Watchers turned to her. "We’re going to my house for some more books. We’ll be back later."

* * *

Rack looked up at the tell-tale jangle of his store’s door opening. He almost fell to his knees as he felt the power spilling out from the red-head. Never before had he sensed such power. He forced his eyes back to Amy. "Hello, Miss Madison," he purred. "As always a pleasure. And," he directed his gaze back to the red-head, "with such a lovely companion." He hid a smirk at the red-head’s blush. Such an innocent, they were always the ripest fruit.

"Hi Rack," the woman looked worried. "We’ve got a problem. Our friend is a Slayer and she’s been infected-."

"Amy!" the red-head’s green eyes bulged. "You can’t just tell people that!"

His disciple shook her head. "Don’t worry, Rack’s alright."

Rack struggled to concentrate as Amy talked, the power from the red-head intoxicating. But finally his student finished her explanation. Rack grimaced inwardly, caught on the horns of a nasty dilemma. If he helped the Slayer, he would gain the red-head’s confidence, and take the first step towards possessing her. But on the other hand, if he feigned a lack of knowledge, he might be able to get rid of the Slayer, someone who was always a threat to his source. Finally he nodded, the lure of getting his hands on the red-head’s deep well of power impossible to resist. After all, he was always a gambler. "Of course, come with me."

* * *

"Retro Amor," Giles looked up as Amy and Willow walked in. "That’s the spell that was cast on Faith."

"How do you know this?" Wesley demanded

Amy shot the younger Watcher a look. "We don’t have time. The longer she’s under it, the more powerful its hold will become. What we need to do is find something that Faith gave Xander as evidence of her feelings and a local telephone book, with them, and this," the girl pulled out a tiny pendant, "we’ll find our caster."

"I’ll get the phone book," Tara volunteered.

Giles nodded his thanks. "And what do you suggest we use-."

"The first ever ’Tomb of Dracula #10’," Cordelia interrupted. "It’s the magazine Faith got Xander her first Christmas in Sunnydale."

"How do you know about this comic?" Giles sceptically asked.

"Jesse and Xander were always-," Cordy’s voice trailed off with an uncomfortable look at Gunn.

To his credit, the black shrugged. "Past is past, girl. Go get the comic."

In just a couple of minutes, they were at the table, the comic sat upon the open at its centre directory, the directory in turn sat upon the table, encircled by flickering the candles, the stench of incense heavy in the air as the two witches murmured under their breath. Suddenly the magazine levitated off the table, the phone book flicked through several pages before coming to a stop, and the pendant flew out Amy’s hand to land on top of a name. Giles strode forward. "Well done girls. William Strike, I’ll go pay that young man a visit and have a pointed discussion."

"Did you sense what I sensed?" he looked up at Wesley’s mutter beside him. "The spell Amy and Willow used was tainted with black magic."

Giles shrugged. "I have larger concerns." Seeing his fellow Watcher’s mouth opening, he purposefully turned his back on him. "Cordelia, I need you to wrap a parcel for me. Anything will do, I just need to look like a delivery-man."

Cordelia looked outraged. "I had servants to do my wrapping-."

"Well you don’t have them anymore!" he snapped. "Just do as I bloody say for once!"

* * *

Faith smirked as she turned the corner and saw the battered man leaving a sports store, a nervous look on his face, and a baseball bat in his hand. "Like that’s gonna help," she muttered, as she stalked after her soon-to-be victim. This was gonna be fun, best to savour the moment.

* * *

William Strike yawned as he heard the knock on his front door. Grunting with the effort, he stood and turned his tv off, disappointed he hadn’t heard any report of the bitch from the previous night being taken into custody for murdering her boyfriend. But just give it time.

"Coming!" he shouted as he strode into his narrow hallway. "Yeah?" he swung the door open to find a studious looking man in his mid forties stood in the doorway, a small brown parcel in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

"Are you," the man glanced down at the clipboard. "William Strike, only he has to sign for this?" his obviously fellow country man proffered the package.

Eyes drawn to the mystery package, he nodded. "That’s me," he agreed.

And gasped when the man drove a knee into his crotch. "Good." Dropping the parcel and clipboard, the man grabbed his shoulder and shoved him inside the house, back-heeling the door shut behind him. "Then it’s time we had a discussion about your use of magic." Still struggling for air, William opened his mouth.

His assailant filled it with a fist, blood and teeth spewing out. Dazed, tears streaming down his face, he dropped to his knees. "Ahhh!" he screamed as the man grabbed a handful of his golden locks and drove his head into the wooden banister.

"You slimy git!" the man roared, face twisted into something more terrifying than anything he’d ever seen. "You’re going to get the pasting of your miserable life!" Hand still gripping his hair, the enraged stranger dragged him towards the front room, stopping occasionally to kick him in the ribs.

Strike tried desperately to grab at the foot smashing into him. "Nooooo!" he screamed as the man’s foot stamped on his hands shattering three fingers.

"Oh yes!" By now spittle was running down the man’s face, eyes bulging. "Cast a spell on my girl would you?"

His girl? Strike’s stomach hollowed as he realised this man was the boyfriend or father of the bird he’d enchanted the previous night. "I’ll break the spell!"

"I know you will," the man snarled. "When a low-level mage suffers enough pain or unconsciousness, any spell they’ve cast is broken. And guess what?" He gasped when the man shoved a sofa cushion on his face and held it down. "you’re in a world of pain."

Strike shoved at the man’s grip, but his lack of leverage, the older man’s superior conditioning, and his own injuries meant he was helpless. "Now," the man leaned over him, whispering in his ear. "You have 24 hours to leave town. And then I’ll be telling my daughter and her friends this address. And they really are people you don’t want to argue with." Suddenly darkness engulfed him.

* * *

Faith halted, suddenly confused as to where and what she was doing. Her eyes widened as she saw her bruised boyfriend just a few people away. She stepped out of the auto shop’s shadows. "Hey X!"

Her boyfriend’s head snapped towards her, an inexplicable look of horror on his face. Without looking where he was going, her man stepped out into the road.

"Shit!" Heart pounding, she jumped into the air, using a mail-box by the side of the road to push off and crash into her boyfriend at the shoulder, flinging them both clear of the on-coming truck he’d failed to see.

* * *

"Hey."

Gunn looked towards Xander stood in the doorway of his room, a nervous look on his face and a leather-bound book under his arm. "Hey," he replied.

"Can I come in?" After a second he nodded, the kid’s face relaxed slightly. "Thanks," the youth said before walking in, sitting beside him on the side of his bed, and passing him the book. He looked down in puzzlement at the brown tome. "That’s my," the youth’s voice briefly trembled, "that’s my photo album." The young man opened the book to a photograph of a younger version of him sat between two unfamiliar kids. "That was the first day at junior high," there was a note of bittersweet yearning in the youth’s voice that made Gunn’s heart catch. "The guys with me are Jesse and Jonathan." Gunn noticed a slight shake in the youth’s finger as he pointed to both youths in turn. "We were the best friends like ever, well, us and Will, we were the nerd squad," the youth smiled wistfully. "We’d hung together since kindergarten."

"Cordelia mentioned Jesse."

His softly-spoken comment went apparently unheard by the young man. "Jonathan died two years, at the hands of Angelus and William the Bloody. Then, Jess," Xander’s voice shook again, "Jess bought it at the hands of a rouge Slayer. And then you turn up, cool as heck, and everyone just expects you to take their place."

"Hey, Xan," suddenly Gunn got where the boy’s resentment came from.

"I got so angry, you were here, but they weren’t. I was supposed to accept you as their replacement," the kid’s voice trailed off, then he shuddered. "Then I realised that Jonathan would think you were so cool, coming from the streets of LA.," the young man half-smiled, "and Jesse would think you were pretty fl-."

"Next word’s fly, and I am gonna have to lay a smackdown on your ass," Gunn warned.

"Fluent in street talk," the young man smoothly changed. The white kid let out a short laugh before turning serious. "I know I messed up. Heck, Jess and Jon would kick my ass for wallowing, not getting on with life, not accepting you on your own terms. Fresh start?"

Gunn smiled slowly before sticking out a hand. "Fresh start."

* * *

The car pulled up silently in the darkened parking lot. After a glance around to satisfy himself the lot was indeed deserted, he climbed out, knee-length jacket swishing in the pleasant fall wind. His movements effortlessly graceful, he stalked to the back of his car and cranked open the trunk.

A smile slowly spread as he peered down into the trunk and saw the hog-tied blonde stuck there, her sky-blue eyes looking up pleadingly at him, and her mouth stuffed with her panties so that only muffled whimpers could escape, her once-fashionable clothes torn and bloodied from his first experience of her. What sort of idiot stopped for a hitchhiker anyway? The sort of idiot who was just begging to be mutilated. Well, his smile widened, he guessed it was her lucky day.

"Oh don’t worry," Angelus purred as he ran a finger down the silently sobbing blonde’s cheek before leaning in and licking her tears off her face, loving the salty taste, "you’re just the warm-up act. I’ve got bigger things than you planned. Just think of yourself as," he laughed softly, "as practice."

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