Tara bit her lip as she knocked on the Giles apartment front door. Inside she could hear the Watcher’s grumblings as he approached the door, and already nervous, she turned to leave.

"Tara!" the door swung open to reveal the Watcher stood in an Union flag dressing gown. Seeing her look, the Englishman chuckled ruefully. "Faith’s idea of a joke. You should see the Sometimes You Need A Stiff Englishman boxers she -." She blushed, the Englishman coughed. "Or perhaps not." The Englishman paused on the doorstep, lines around his eyes crinkling in a concerned way she’d never seen from her father. "I’m afraid Faith isn’t in, I thought she was meeting the rest of you at that dratted, credit-draining mall?"

"S…she was," Tara looked down at the ground, ashamed at what she’d done and about to do, "I lied to her and said I was sick."

"Oh?" the Englishman put a hand on her arm and guided her inside. "I’m sure there’s a very good reason for that. Has Faith done something to upset you? I know she can be a tad," the Watcher chuckled with a fondness her father had never shown towards her, "well very blunt, but she means well. She’d be horrified if she thought you were intimidated or hurt by her."

"N…..no," Tara shook her head as the Englishman guided her into a lounge that looked like something out of an Agatha Christie novel. Well except for the late 60s LP covers fixed to the walls. "It’s not about Faith," she swallowed. Her friends, the first she’d ever had would hate her for what she was going to do, but it was the right thing to do. "It’s Willow and Amy. I see things."

"Dead people?" Tara jumped at the man’s comment. "I’m sorry, just a joke," the Englishman smiled. "Faith forced me to watch ‘The Sixth Sense’ the other night, the twist was a little obvious I thought."

"Y..yes," she stared uncertainly at the Englishman as she sat down on the chair offered opposite him. "I…..I can see the auras of other mages, w…who they are. Wesley’s is a cream-."

"Really?" Giles sniffed. "I’d have bet on yellow."

"And yours is a grey."

The Watcher stiffened. "That’s the funny thing with white. You get just the tiniest bit of black in it, and no matter how you try to get it out, you’re left with grey." The Englishman’s smile was more than a little strained. "In the early 70s, I was a dark arts mage of some repute, a real hellion."

"Ooooh," Tara just stared at the Englishman, dazed by the revelation.

"And whatever Faith would tell you, that doesn’t just mean I was rebellious enough to eat my crumpets without butter," the Watcher shook his head. "But you’re not here to discuss my inglorious past."

"N…no," she shook her head. "Amy’s was always grey," Giles’ mouth dropped open. "B…but I thought it was because of her mother, just her influence. But then Willow’s started to change from white to cream, and now it’s grey too." Tara shivered. "It’s like an oil slick polluting an ocean."

"Good lord," Giles leaned forward and squeezed her hand. "I don’t suppose you have any idea what’s causing this?"

After a second she nodded. "Two Saturdays ago, Willow and Amy told me about this teacher they had, a man by the name of Rack. They said he was teaching them amazing things and I should meet him." She swallowed at the memory. "But the moment I reached the street his shop was on, I started to cramp in my stomach, and there was bile in my throat," she shivered again, "it was all I could do to run away."

"Two Saturdays ago, why haven’t you been to see me before this?"

The Watcher’s tone was gentle, but Tara couldn’t help a slight flinch at the note of reproach that accompanied his words. "I…I was scared what the o….others w…would think of me f….for telling on Willow and Amy," she admitted.

"Nonsense, dear," the Watcher smiled at her. "You’re acting out of concern for your friends, you’ve absolutely nothing to reproach yourself about." The Englishman’s expression sobered. "Now, I’m sure you have some studying or something more interesting to do on the weekend. Let me show you out."

* * *

The moment he closed the door behind Tara, Giles allowed his genial mask to drop. "Those stupid bloody girls!" he growled. "Don’t they realise the forces they are meddling in, the damage they could do to themselves and all around them?" Heart clenching in fear, he hurried to the phone and dialled the office. "Yes, Wesley, it’s me. I’m afraid we have a crisis. It appears we have a problem with Amy and Willow, a serious one. Should they or any of the others pop into the hotel before I get there, don’t mention anything about this conversation to them. I’ll explain when I get there. Oh, and call Kate."

* * *

Wesley looked up when Giles rushed through the lobby door, his fellow countryman looking as flustered as he remembered seeing him. "We haven’t had any clients in this morning have we?"

"No, what’s this about?"

"I should have listened to you, Wesley," the older Watcher paced the lobby floor, his expression getting more and more fraught. "But I was just so happy to have their help." Giles shook his head. "Nothing good comes out of black magics."

"Rupert," Wesley tried for a calming tone. "You’re not making any sense."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "I’m sorry old bean, but I’d rather wait for -," the middle-aged man smiled thinly at the sound of screeching tyres outside, "Kate to get here. I’ve not the stomach for explaining this over and over."

A few seconds later and the door crashed open. The blonde detective strode in, an irritated expression on her face. "I got two hours’ sleep after a sixteen hour shift, this better be good, Rupert!"

"No," he was rocked by the desolation in his fellow countryman’s eyes, "this isn’t good at all." His fellow Englishman sat down at the table in the centre of the lobby that they used for research. "Not good at all." He listened with mounting horror as Giles explained what Tara had told him.

"How can we be sure she’s right?" Kate asked a second before him.

The Englishman shrugged. "She was insightful enough to realise what I’d done."

"How bad could this be?" Kate asked.

"That rather depends on this Rack and what he is," Wesley replied. "And I suppose there’s only one way to find out."

Giles looked up as he rose. "You’re not going."

"You know the sort of creatures that do this," Wesley reprimanded. "My," he struggled for a more diplomatic word but in the end went for blunt, "untainted aura will give me more resistance if it’s a Targ or Gertxa. I’ll pose as a curio buyer, see what I can find out."

"Very well," Giles nodded grumpily. "Kate could you run a background check on Rack, see if he has a criminal record or anything, here," the middle-aged man scribbled an address down on a crumpled piece of paper, "is his address. While you two are gone, I’ll fish through the relevant texts."

* * *

Rack looked up as his shop door opened and a grey blazer wearing, bespectacled man in his early thirties stumbled into his shop, a look of awe on his face. On his strangely familiar face. "Hello and welcome to Rack’s."

"Yes, indeed." After a second, the man turned to him. "Winston Price at your service?"

Rack’s brow furrowed at the man’s strange accent. "You’re not from around here are you?"

"I’m afraid not," the man shook his head before pushing his spectacles up his nose, "I’m a New Englander on vacation in your pleasant little town. I was passing by your shop, and well, I just couldn’t resist the opportunity for a rummage. You never know what curios you can pick up."

"Be my guest," Rack kept an eye on the man as he strolled through the store, leafing through the book shelves, looking at the amulets, and studying the various charms.

Finally the man returned to the counter with a pair of books. "Seventy dollars, correct?"

"Yes," the man reached across the counter to shake his hand. Nonplussed, he stared at the hand before shaking it.

The New Englander’s smile was strained. "Well, thank you. I know a few collectors, I’ll be sure to recommend you."

Rack stared after the departing man, blood chilling as he realised who his guest was. He’d seen his face in the memories of Strawberry and Mommy’s Little Girl when he’d been communing with them. "Winston Price indeed," he muttered. Grabbing his phone, he hurriedly dialled the red-head’s number. He only hoped they were far enough in his thrall to do as he wanted.

* * *

"It’s a Hirudo." Giles looked up at his entry, mouth opening. "Yes I’m sure," Wesley shuddered. "I feel like I need a bath after ten minutes in its shop, god knows how the girls got caught by it. When I shook his hand, his sleeve shifted and I saw his power tattoos."

"What’s a Hirudo?" Kate asked from her position sat at the study table, leafing through the manuscripts.

"A Hirudo is a passer," seeing the cop’s mouth open, Wesley hurried on, "a demon who can pass for human. In addition to being mages of some repute, they can also leech power from other magical beings. But first they have to corrupt their power, make their victims like them, evil, depraved. And once they are-."

"They rip the power from their victim and use it for whatever they deem necessary, becoming stronger with each theft," Giles finished for him.

"And their victim, what happens to them?" Kate asked.

Wesley and Giles exchanged worried glances. "It varies, some die, others are merely turned into vegetables.," Giles replied.

"I’ll call Faith," Wesley said. "And don’t worry, I’ll tell her to get here without Amy or Willow."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "And I’ll try Tara, she said she wasn’t going with the others today. The silly girl felt too guilty about telling me about her suspicions to face the others."

* * *

"Yo G!" Faith crashed through the office doors, her friends in tow.

"Faith!" Giles hurried up to greet her, his eyes skirting over the others. "They’re not here, good."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "They left before your phone call, some assignment they said," Faith grinned. "I think it was something else entirely. But why weren’t we meant to tell them? What’s the sitch? Hey," her eyes narrowed as she noticed someone else sat at the table. "Yo, Tar! I thought you were ill." The witch seemed to shrink into her chair at her comment.

"Tara has brought a matter to our attention concerning Amy and Willow, a very serious matter," Giles began to talk.

"Willow and Amy wouldn’t do that!" Xander shouted, her man’s eyes shining with outrage.

"I’m afraid they already have," Wesley interjected. "I’ve seen the demon with my own eyes."

"You’re wrong-."

"K," Faith stilled Xander’s continuing protests with a look. "So we kill this demon, what happens to Ams and Red then?"

Wesley and Giles exchanged looks. "They’ve been on what’s best described as an endorphin high for several weeks, perhaps in Amy’s case months. When Rack dies, they’re going to be cut off from their source and crash hard. There shouldn’t be any serious long-term effects, but for a while they’ll suffer something akin to a junkie going cold turkey."

Faith winced at the memories of her mom and her occasional attempts to clean herself up, sometimes that had been worse than living with a horse junkie. "But this is the only way?" Giles nodded. "Let’s get armed then."

It was a cool wintry day as they made their way through Sunnydale. Faith kinda felt like a gun-slinger in one of those westerns that G always denied watching.

And then they turned a corner and they were there. Amy and Willow flanking the creepiest looking bastard she’d ever seen. The man smiled, something she definitely never wanted to see again. "Girls, give them pain."

* * *

Her mother hitting her.

Her mom’s dates coming into her room, stinking of booze.

Dying.

The memories, the experiences, crashing over her, but ten-fold in intensity, Faith fell screaming to her knees.

* * *

His dad telling him he was worthless.

Jesse’s limp body.

Faith’s corpse at his feet.

Xander collapsed.

* * *

His actions as a dark arts mage.

The certain knowledge that the beautiful girl he regarded as his daughter would die long before him.

Jenny’s death.

Giles slumped shaking into the wall.

* * *

The first time she found her mom lying on the couch, a bottle of pills in her hand.

The day she was forced to move into her run-down apartment.

Her first sight of Jesse’s broken body.

Vomit spewed out of Cordelia’s mouth, bile almost choking her.

* * *

His mother dying of a heart-attack, over-worked from struggling to do three jobs to keep a roof over their heads.

The day he identified his sister’s corpse at the morgue.

Tears rolling down his face, Gunn doubled up.

* * *

The day dad came to school to tell her mom had died.

The day dad died.

Body shaking, Kate crumpled into a heap.

* * *

His father hitting him, telling him he was useless, would never amount to anything.

His younger brother falling off his horse and dying.

Stomach churning, tears welling in his eyes, Wesley doubled up.

* * *

Willow threw her head and laughed, the power coursing through her making her tremble, her very veins feeling as if they were on fire. "STOP!" She pushed away at the presence in her head, but it stayed there, annoyingly insistent. "We’re your friends, Willow, you’re killing them, killing us."

A flood of warm memories crashed over her. Xander sticking up for her at kindergarten. Faith being the first girl who’d wanted to be her friend. Giles being the nearest thing she’d ever had to a real father. Memories with the others, Cordy helping her pick a prom dress. Even those who’d died featured, Jonathan, Jesse, Ms. Calendar. "I…I can’t," she said in her head. "Amy will be killed."

"I’m sorry," Tara paused. "I tried Amy as well, but she won’t listen. Please, if you don’t pull out, they’ll all die, we’ll all die, our hearts will break from the pain. Please."

Tears filled Willow’s eyes. "I’m sorry, Amy." She let go. The last thing she heard before passing out was her girl-friend’s scream.

* * *

"Will Willow be alright?"

Giles paused, taking a second to glance around the hushed room as he struggled with Faith’s question. Physically was one thing, she’d been exhausted by the spell, but not injured. But mentally, emotionally was an entirely more troubling matter. She’d tried to kill those closest to her, been mind-controlled, and had been forced to let her girl-friend die to save the rest of them. Finally Giles tried for the non-committal. "I’m sure with time and understanding she’ll be fine."

"Yeah," Faith stared around, his daughter’s eyes hard as if daring any of them to disagree with her, "no one blames her for what happened, it wasn’t her fault."

"Quite," Wesley was first to agree. "And Rack, what of him?"

"Long gone," Giles supplied. "No one appears to know where. I’ve been to his shop, but all personal belongings have been cleared out, there’s no clue as to where he’s gone."

"I’d like to show that mother some understandin’," Faith snarled.

"As would I," Giles agreed, the image of Amy’s bloodless body, her face a twisted, pained mask. By the time the first of them, Faith, had regained her feet, the blasted creature had long since fled the scene.

If Rack was really lucky, Faith would find him before he did.

"Have you heard anything from Red?" Xander shook his head morosely. "Damn," Faith sighed as she wrapped an arm around his waist, "must be hard, right? You’ve tried to get in touch though?"

"Of course I have!" Xander was outraged by the very suggestion he’d abandon Willow in her hour of need. "I’ve phoned, but the phone’s always off the hook. And I’ve been round to her dorm at least once a day but no matter how long I hammer on the door she never answers."

"I could kick it in for you," Xander glared at his girl-friend as she guided him down a deserted path. Faith shrugged and grinned unrepentantly. "Just tryin’ to help." His girl-friend sobered. "I’ve been around a couple of times, too. But what do ya say? Hey, sorry your girl-toy’s dead but thanks for not killing us?"

Xander winced. "Maybe you should wait until somebody with more tact has spoken to her, maybe Jerry Springer."

"Funny bastard," Faith shook her head before turning towards him and pulling her jacket off. His eyes widened as she started to unfasten her shirt.

"Faith!" he looked left and right. Relieved they were alone, he returned his gaze to the brunette beauty before him. "What are you doing?"

"We’re going into the pool." Faith looked to the glimmering water to their left. "Get your clothes off."

"We’ve got no costumes!" he protested.

Faith tilted her head onto one side as she continued to unbutton her denim shirt. "I know, dumbass. That’s why it’s called skinny-dipping."

"But it’s winter!" he protested.

"See," Faith’s eyes sparkled as she broke out into a double-dimpled smile. "It’s working already," the Slayer’s hips swung spellbindingly as she sauntered over to him. "You haven’t thought of Red in a whole minute." And then she was pressing her lips to his.

By the time Faith pulled away, his pants had somehow ended up around his ankles. Faith stared down pointedly down. "At least part of you wants to jump right in."

"I..it’s cold," he stuttered, cheeks reddening.

"And yet, Xander Junior hasn’t shrunk any," Faith smirked as she threw her top off, revealing that once again his absent-minded girl-friend had forgotten her bra. "Damn, you’re right," the Slayer gazed down, "it is cold." His girl-friend’s smirk widened at his gulp. "Does Faith’s little man see something he likes?" she teased. His mouth opened and shut several times. "Ever done it outside, X?" Suddenly the rest of his clothes hit the ground. "Now you’re getting with the program!"

* * *

Faith grinned as her man shivered into the water. "If I catch a cold-."

"I’ll have to wear my nurse’s uniform," she retorted.

"You have a nurse’s uniform?" Xander’s eyes widened.

"One way to find out," she grinned as she started to swim over to Xander’s side. Suddenly he disappeared from view. Faith looked around. "X? Quit messin’ around."

"Gotcha." Suddenly her boyfriend appeared behind her, his hands on her shoulders, pushing her under the icy water. Using her superior strength, she snatched a hold of his wrists and yanked him under before back-flipping over him.

"Who’s got who?" she triumphantly asked. Her brow furrowed when Xander didn’t surface. "X?" Shaking her head at Xander’s messing around, she ducked under.

The water below was clean, but she still had to concentrate to see in the darkness. Bubbles coming out of her mouth, she swam deeper and deeper.

Her eyes widened as she saw Xander struggling to pull his foot free from some weeds. Picking up the pace, she swam nearer only to see it wasn’t weeds at all but a twenty-legged thing with a boulder-sized body with a honking huge mouth and a glowing red eye.

Swimming in close, she saw Xander’s eyes were going glassy. Well glassier than normal when she was naked. Gliding between a couple of the thrashing tendrils, she kicked the creature full in the eye.

Immediately it went wild, tentacles thrashing everywhere, but also releasing Xander. Grabbing her nearly limp boyfriend under his arms, she swam for the surface. Dragging X onto the ground, she grabbed her knife out of its belt sheath and dived back in.

Minutes later, she made for the surface, the once blue water now a murky red thanks to her dissection of the beast. "W…what," Xander coughed as he stared at the heavy thing in her arms, "is that?"

"What am I?" Faith sniffed. "A freakin’ Watcher? Get dressed and then we’ll get back to the hotel and find out."

* * *

Willow picked listlessly at the camp canteen food. Somehow the fries seemed even more cardboardy than normal, the coke even more tepid. "Greetings sister." Willow looked up to find herself being regarded by a slightly older woman. Before she could ask to be left alone, the woman continued. "I am one of The Children Of Fannus, a community of people who wish only to be close to nature. You have the look of one who needs something to belong to." Willow’s mouth opened. "Please," a feeling of warmth rushed through her when the woman took her hand, "we only wish to help."

Willow smiled dreamily. "That does sound good."

"Good, sister, come with me."

* * *

"Yo, G!" Cheeks reddening, Giles pulled away from his kiss with Kate. "Put the lady-cop down, I’ve got some wicked cool business for you."

"Faith!" Rising, he walked out from behind the reception desk. "Is a little de-, good lord what do you have here?"

Faith’s dimples were in full view as she smirked at him. "A little de, wasn’t that what Kate was gonna get?"

Ignoring his girl-friend’s snorts, he stood on his dignity even as he tucked his shirt in. "What the hell have you been up?"

The Slayer dropped a multi-tentacled corpse on the study desk, water sloshing. "Demon killing. And try carrying one of them through town in the middle of day. Even in Sunnydale, people notice."

"Kate-."

"I’ll ring Wes."

Giles nodded his thanks even as he continued to stare at the beast. "How did you find it? It’s drenched?"

"Um, ah," Xander started to stutter and redden. Normally that was a sign the two of them had been up to something amorous but outside and in this weather, you’d have to be stark raving bonkers.

"I think we weren’t the only ones locking lips, Rupert."

Kate’s words were only a murmur but Faith’s half-smile confirmed that she’d both heard them and that her and Xander had indeed been up to something. Giles shuddered, the young were bloody mad. "Where exactly did you find it?"

"The bottom of the pool near Walker’s Crossing," Faith supplied.

Giles’ eyes widened. "That’s impossible," he breathed.

"Why?"

"This is a Kraken, a baby one, from its size. But Krakens are normally sea-water creatures. Legends tell of them pulling Viking longboats under water, growing to the size of a large building, killing Great Whites. They’re fearsome beasts." Giles’ gaze snapped to Faith. "It didn’t-?"

"That thing?" his Slayer grinned. "It was so easy I thought about keeping it as a pet."

"No way," Xander shuddered. Suddenly the youth’s eyes widened. "Willow!"

Giles turned to see the red-head stood in the building’s entrance. "Greetings," the Witch said. Giles shot Faith a worried look, Willow never said greetings. "I’ve only come here to tell you that I won’t be coming here again. It’s," the witch’s voice faltered, "cost me too much. This part of my life is over." The red-head turned to go.

"Willow!" Xander’s voice had a lifetime of agony. "But we’re your friends!"

"I have other friends."

"Don’t," seeing the look in Faith’s eyes as she started towards the departing Wiccan, Giles grabbed her arm. "This isn’t Willow, something else is up."

"Rack?" Faith looked up at him, eyes molten.

"No," he shook his head. "When he was around, she was giddy. Now she seems serene."

"What then?"

"What am I, the bloody Answer-Man?" Giles hissed. Looking up, he nodded at the man coming through the front door. One day, he’d have to re-name this place Piccadilly Circus. "Yes, Wesley, that was Willow. No Wesley, she won’t be joining us. Yes, that is a Kraken. Yes, I’d like to know where the hell it came from too." Giles sighed as Wes’ mouth opened. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Margaret Walsh stared at the wriggling specimen in the jar, fascinated by its manic writhings. "Even now, three and a half hours since it was cut from the tree it had been attached to, the specimen continues to move. It certainly appears to be tropical in origin, and not remotely native to the area of Sunnydale. It is also highly poisonous and very acidic to judge from Agent Starr’s death."

Yes, simply fascinating.

* * *

"Tell me again what we’re supposed to be doing?"

Riley shook his head at Forrest’s whisper. "Looking for signs of plants that aren’t native to the locality."

"Which of us is the one with a botany degree?" Graham commented from his left. "Remind me again."

Riley bit back a curse. He knew and agreed with the point his friends were making but orders were orders. "Well, look for something out of the ordinary."

"Would that count?"

Riley’s mouth dropped as he followed Forrest’s pointing hand to see a huge plant powering out of the ground, fluorescent grey tentacles writhing around in a horribly mesmerising way, a stomach-churning caw coming up from its roots. "Oh yeah."

* * *

Xander concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, the others’ chat mere background noise. "X," after a second he looked down to see his girl-friend’s concerned face. "If you’re not feeling in the zone, maybe you should leave patrolling to the rest of us."

"I’m fine," he had to be doing something, otherwise all he’d do was obsess about what was up with Willow.

"Perhaps Faith is correct," he scowled at Giles’ voice. "Patrolling is a dangerous business. Doubly so when one is distracted."

"I said I’m fine," he snapped before pulling away.

"Damn it!" He heard Faith start after him and then heard Giles stop her, muttering his usual wisdom that seemed to help Faith, but wouldn’t help Will. Maybe because Giles didn’t care enough.

"They’re just worried man."

He spun around to face Gunn. So quickly in fact the older man almost bumped into him. "They’re worried about me? I’m not the one who’s mixed up with another crazy cul-." His head turned as he heard something. "You -."

"Yeah." Gunn hefted his axe before looking over his shoulder and back at the others. "Guys, business is picking up!"

* * *

Giles’ eyes widened as he entered the clearance to find one of the Initiative soldiers held aloft by the tentacles of a Long-Armed Eater, a plant normally native to only the remotest parts of Asia. Seeing the soldiers firing their laser guns into the damn monstrosity, he let out a shout. "Ceasefire! Ceasefire! You’ll only kill him too!"

In a second the leader of the troops, he remembered Faith telling him his name was Riley, had turned to him. "Who are-," the soldier’s gaze swung around the group, flaring in angry recognition, "oh, you. What we supposed to do?"

Giles ignored the soldier’s disdain. "The moment that thing grabbed him, it formed an empathic bond with him, even as it turns him to food. Your weapons would eventually kill it, but in the process the shock through the empathic bond would also kill him."

"What am I supposed to do then?" snapped the soldier.

"Its brains are in its roots," he replied, "if it dies instantly, it won’t have time to send its pain to the soldier. Faith-."

"On it." Hair flying, Faith surged towards the plant, hitting the ground in an impossibly graceful baseball slide that took her under its barbed tentacles. Her double-bladed axe rose and then surged down, ripping through the base of the plant en-route to splicing its underground roots.

* * *

"Well," Giles pursed his lips together. "As we seem stymied on the mystery of just what is causing the appearance of the non-indigenous monsters and fauna in our midst, I suggest a change of direction, a look at our other problem. Gunn, would you be a good chap and take Xander to the university. Apparently his sister is enrolling next year, and she’d like all the leaflets to do with all the college clubs before making a decision on which college to take her 3.8 grade average and resume," why couldn’t the bloody Yanks say curriculum vitae? American, a whole bloody different language. "Resume filled with extra-curricular activities and athletics achievements."

"I don’t have a sister." Giles stared patiently at Xander. Finally the penny dropped. "Oh, right."

Giles nodded. "As Willow has rarely left the campus since Amy’s dea-, demise, I think it safe to assume that whatever has affected her did so there."

"Couldn’t she be in shock?" Cordelia blurted out. "I never got the lesbian thing, kinda happened sudden, but they seemed into each other."

"Perhaps," Giles replied. Cordelia, meet tact. Tact, Cordelia, I’m sure you’ll be very unhappy together. "But given this is the Hellmouth and Willow seemed very out of character-."

"Perhaps it was a WhedNox demon, they’re nasty buggers," Wesley commented. "Always making their victims act in illogical manners."

"Did you see a stream of noxious slime anywhere?" Giles shook his head. "No, it can’t be one of them. Willow didn’t smell of chemical waste." Giles looked towards Xander and Gunn. "What are you waiting for?"

* * *

"Ah," Wesley beamed as Xander and Gunn returned with a carrier bag stuffed full of leaflets. "If I might suggest, to simplify the job of sorting through the societies, we split them into mundane-sounding clubs that Willow is likely to be interested in, mundane-sounding clubs that are unlikely to excite Miss. Rosenberg’s attention, and esoteric-sounding groups that perhaps need further investigation." Not only logical, but appealing to his sense of order, quite brilliant, really.

"Sounds like a plan," Faith reached for one of the pamphlets.

Wesley’s eyes widened as they alighted on the leaflet that Faith was reaching for. "Don’t!" he snatched the document away from the buxom brunette, slapping her hand in the process.

"You wanna try that again?" Wesley gulped as Faith eyeballed him. "After I’ve broken your right hand?"

"I do apologise Miss Giles," he hid his trepidation behind a sniff. "But if you’d have touched that leaflet, it is more than likely you’d have been infected with the same spell that’s infecting Miss. Rosenberg."

"You’re touching it?" Faith stared at him with a distinct lack of trust he’d never seen her show his older counterpart.

"This group is made up solely of women, hence its name," he explained.

"You know what’s happened to Willow!" Xander let out a gasp.

"At the very least," he chose to turn away from the evidence of just how little esteem Faith had for him and towards Xander. "I know of a mystical cult operating on the college campus."

"May I?" He wordlessly passed the leaflet to his fellow Watcher. "Ah," Giles’ eyes filled with alarm. "This is most worrying, most worrying. Well done for spotting this, Wesley."

"G-Man," Xander’s voice was throbbing with tension. "I want some answers, what is going on with Willow!"

"Well, we’re not exactly sure that this is involved with Willow," Giles appeared sickeningly unperturbed by the younger man’s agitation. "But The Daughters Of Fannus are an all-female druidic cult with the ability to infect other women they see as disaffected and alone into joining by mere touch." Giles looked towards him. "Wesley perhaps over-reacted, I don’t think they can infect via runes on a leaflet."

"Knew he shouldn’t have hit me-."

"But one does not take unnecessary risks. A most timely reaction, Wesley." Wesley preened inwardly at the praise.

"Who are these Daughters, Rupert?" Kate asked.

Giles pursed his lips. "I said they’re a druidic cult, to be honest that’s not entirely true. They’re more of an off-shoot. While like the druids they believe in the worship of nature, they don’t believe that mankind can live in harmony with nature. In fact, they believe that nature would be best served by the eradication of mankind from the face of earth-."

"Uh," Cordy spoke out, face confused. "Am I missing something? Aren’t they like part of mankind?"

"We’re dealing with extremists, Miss. Chase," Wesley sniffed. "Logic and reason don’t exactly go hand in hand."

"Like Wes and dates," snarked Faith.

"Faith," Giles glared at his charge. "Wesley saved you from a potentially dangerous situation, I think a little respect would be in order."

Faith sunk back in her chair. "Sorry Wes," she mumbled.

A tense silence was broken by Xander. "If they’re some sort of nature group, are they responsible for all the strange plants we’ve seen around here? And who’s Fannus?"

"I would guess they are behind the strange animals and plants, including those the Initiative told us about. As for Fannus," Giles grimaced. "The most common theory is that Fannus, who mythology relates was a Roman god of nature, is in fact some sort of demon impersonating Fannus and using the Daughters’ obsession with nature to wreck havoc. The other major theory is that Fannus was never in fact a god, but always a demon who hypnotised the susceptible to wreck havoc on his behalf."

"What’s their MO?" Kate asked.

"Their moo?" Giles’ confused expression cleared at Kate’s patient stare. "Ah yes," the Watcher coloured. "Of course. MO. How positively Dragnet. They tend to swamp an area with dangerous and rare creatures not local to the vicinity, making the area virtually uninhabitable for humans. Then they move onto their next target. How they get their plants and animals there is uncertain, through some channelling of Fannus’ power I’d imagine."

"H…how do we stop them?" Tara whispered, worry in her face.

Giles grimaced. "First we will have to find them, Faith. There’s no address on the leaflet, merely a contact number. A number that I suspect would only lead to whoever ringing it being thoroughly checked out in case they were a mole." The senior Watcher looked towards his charge. "I want you and Tara to trail Willow around campus tomorrow and find where she’s meeting them. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but forget about lessons. Xander, it’s more than likely we’ll need more firepower, see if you can recruit the Initiative to help."

"Choice," Faith enthused. The teen beauty’s brow furrowed with worry. "But what about us getting infected?"

"It is more than likely that Amy’s death left Willow disconcerted and adrift, easy prey for them. As you two are far more focussed, you should be immune."

"More than likely? Should be?" Faith sucked in her cheeks and blew out. "Man, I’m so reassured."

* * *

"How long has she been in there, Tar?" Faith whispered.

"T…two hours."

"That sells it for me," Faith nodded. "Deserted building, old gym planned to be knocked down at the end of the year. No-one comes here anymore. This has gotta be it. I’ll ring G and tell him to get his ass down here."

"We’ll be able to help her won’t we?"

A pained look flickered over the brunette’s face, reminding Tara that this was far from the first person Faith had come close to losing or even lost. "Bet on it," the Slayer replied.

* * *

Willow smiled dreamily as she sat in a circle around the altar of their true god, the righteousness of their cause, the sounds of the nature they were returning supremacy to filling her ears. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the chant.

"Get them!" her eyes shot open at a familiar voice. "The altar is the centre of the power!" Looking around, she saw Giles, her friends, and some soldiers rushing in.

Her friends.

She blinked as if coming out of a trance. And then she saw Faith barrelling towards the altar, a familiar dangerous look on the sultry brunette’s face. Eyes widening in horror, she opened her mouth to shout a warning.

She couldn’t lose another friend.

* * *

Faith’s sword crashed down on the altar, splitting it in half. A flash of light and explosion of power flung her down on her back. Hitting the ground on her shoulders, she rolled backwards and up to her feet with Olympian smoothness. Her eyes widened as she saw the demon stood before her.

It was a short thing, maybe a foot shorter than her, but powerfully built. The demon had the head of a cobra, the armour plated body of an armadillo, the powerful legs of a kangaroo, and a lobster’s claws at the end of its gorilla-like arms. "I am Fanussss," a horrible smile stretched across the demon’s face, "and you have made a grave mistake."

"Yeah?" Faith ducked under a claw-swipe to thrust at the demon’s chest. "I got your mistake right here!" Her attack turned into a desperate leap back as the demon spat venom at her. Grimacing, she jumped right back in. This time she managed to connect with a thrust at the creature’s chest only for her blade to bounce off. Surprised, she just stared at the demon long enough to get caught by a backhanded blow that knocked her to the ground, landing beside a glazed-eyed Willow.

The witch stared at her for a second before speaking. "His power comes from the earth!" Faith looked at her. "From the ground!"

Faith’s eyes widened in realisation. "Thanks!" Darting forward, she ducked under one lobster claw, winced as the other one nipped her left arm, and grabbed hold of one armour-plated knee, and a shoulder. Muscles straining, she lifted the demon overhead and dropped it onto a weight bench’s support.

The derelict gym rang to the sound of cracking shell as the steel ripped through the demon’s back, leaving him suspended on the bar, writhing in mid-air.

The fighting worshippers all let out a simultaneous shriek and fell to the ground like puppets who’d had their strings cut.

All except one.

"Amy! Amy! Amy!" Faith spun around to see Xander hurrying over to scoop a hysterical Willow into his arms and scowled in the knowledge there were some battles that no amount of muscle could win.

"Ah," Walsh looked up as her subordinate entered. "Agent Finn. I’ve come to a decision. Perhaps it would be wise to invite Miss. Giles in to see our program."

"She’s a civilian," Riley stated, expression mulish.

Walsh hid a smile at Agent Finn’s hostility to the brunette. Typical male ego, but that was fine. That would make his opposition to what was to come less likely. "I’ll be honest with you Agent Finn," she lied. "This wasn’t my idea at all. Indeed, I agree whole-heartedly with you. But," she shrugged, "orders are orders. So, please be sure to extend an invitation for 10 AM the day after tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma’am," Finn saluted stiffly before marching out.

Walsh smiled. It was integral to her plans that she got a look at this Slayer. Reports were all very well, but she had to find a weakness, a chink in the armour she could exploit to bring this girl under her control for the betterment of her country and herself. She looked around her cluttered desk and sighed. Now where had she put all those reports on Project 314?

* * *

"Giles."

Faith turned from ordering her three burgers to look up at the stony-faced soldier stood behind her. "Yo, Riles, always a pleasure to see your smiling face." She smirked inwardly as the secret agent’s glower intensified. Man, she just loved pulling this stuffed shirt’s chain.

"Miss, is there anything else?"

Faith glanced over her shoulder to the shell-shocked looking canteen worker. But then her appetite often had that effect on people. "Yeah," she looked down to her tray filled with double fries, three burgers, and chicken nuggets. "I’ll have some onion rings and chicken wings. Oh," she remembered something else. "And I’ll have some salad." The special forces soldier behind her snorted. "What?" she defended. "I gotta think of my weight."

The soldier doggedly followed her to one of the canteen’s few empty tables and sat opposite. "I’ve been ordered to ask you to come to see our facility."

"Sorry Riles," Faith smirked as she picked up a fry. "I’m flattered but I’ve already told ya, I’m involved."

She didn’t think it possible, but the soldier’s expression hardened even more. Jeez, somebody needed to take a chill pill. "This is an official invitation to you and your Watchers to tour our facility from my commanding officer, but if you’re not interested…"

"Calm down," Faith soothed. "I’m just messin’ with ya. When is this invitation?"

"Tomorrow morning, 10 am." The soldier replied before giving her the address.

"I’ll talk to G ‘bout it," Faith agreed. "Now," she raised an eyebrow. "Ya gonna leave me to eat in peace?"

Finn shuddered. "You think I actually want to watch this?" he asked before rising.

"Lightweight," Faith muttered before sinking her teeth into the first of her burgers. Her eyes fell to her crowded tray. Okay, maybe ordering the salad was a little too much.

* * *

"That is an interesting offer," Giles stared at his daughter. "What’s your assessment of these Initiative operatives?"

Faith shrugged. "Hard to get a read on a bunch of guys when they’re wearing masks most the time. Usually a gang in balaclavas means a bank-job."

Giles snorted. "True enough."

"But they’re in our game and on our side, that’s gotta be good, right?" his Slayer continued.

"Um," Giles’ mouth twisted into a thoughtful grimace. "Just because they happen to be on the same side doesn’t mean their motives are pure. Still, fore-warned is fore-armed, and I am more than a little curious. And it would be rude to turn down an invitation."

"You turned down an invitation to go out with Miss Sanders last year," Faith commented.

"Don’t," Giles shuddered at the memory of the fearsome English teacher who’d been ‘making eyes’ at him. "That wasn’t rude, just sensible."

Faith snorted. "Whatever ya say, G." The Slayer’s chocolate brown eyes sobered. "We takin’ the others?" Faith beamed at his nod. "Wicked."

* * *

He watched as his agent squirmed at the foot of his pedestal. Finally satisfied by the spy’s show of obedience he spoke. "Rise." The spy rocketed to his feet. "These Americans," he shook his head, "ants scurrying around in their master’s gardens. They have no idea the forces they risk unleashing. Still, these reports about behaviour modification chips are intriguing. Get me their plans. I would like to use these inventions to ensure my supremacy over my enemies."

* * *

Faith kicked at the door. "Jesus, Red! Let us in!"

"Go away," came the muffled cry from inside.

Faith looked towards the others standing behind her. For over a week they’d been pussy-footing around Red, allowing her to brush them off. No more. When it came to tough love, she had just the rhino skin to provide it. "Red, open this damn door or I’ll kick it in." She paused. "And you know I’ve got the muscle to do it."

"Fine." After a second the door swung open to reveal a teary-eyed Willow.

Before Faith had chance to say anything, Xander had pushed past her to take the red-head in a crushing embrace. "Jesus, let the girl breathe, X."

"Ah," Giles coughed and rubbed at his glasses. "It is good to see you, Willow. Very good." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Faith nudged her Watcher in the ribs. "Yes, we’ve got an invitation to see the Initiative’s base. As I’m sure there’ll be plenty of state of the art scientific equipment, your input would be most appreciated."

"I…I just wanna stay here."

"There’ll be lots of nerdy gadgets there, you’ll be in geek heaven!" Cordelia put in.

"J…just leave me alone." Willow shook her head.

Defeated, Faith looked towards Giles. "Y…you go," Tara spoke. "I’m staying here with Willow." Willow’s mouth opened. "Either you let me stay while they’re at the base, or Faith will drag you there."

"I’d do it too," Faith cracked her knuckles.

"Okay," Willow’s shoulders slumped.

* * *

"No," Walsh shook her head as she stared at the group massed in the compound’s entrance. "The invitation was for you and your Watcher, not these others."

"K," Faith turned to leave. "Let’s go guys."

"Wait, you can still come in," Walsh exclaimed.

Faith turned back to her and shook her head. "You don’t get it. Where I go, my crew goes. They’re not good enough for your damn establishment, we don’t have anything to talk about."

"Very well," Walsh forced a smile. Damn insubordinate swine, a guttersnipe should respect someone with all the education she had. Well, she would get her revenge on the dissection table. "Please come in."

"That’s more like it."

Walsh gritted her teeth at the Slayer’s smug mutter. She turned to Riley. "Turn the light on." She smiled as the group gasped when the room behind her suddenly lit up. "Welcome to the Initiative."

Walsh looked around the jumbo-sized hanger complex. In the middle of the floor was the lower section where men and women in surgical scrubs and white lab coats were performing tests and operations on several types of demons, strapped to strange looking tables and chairs.

"This is unreal," the Slayer muttered.

"So, you like our little operation?" Walsh asked.

"Looks like SPECTRE control centre," muttered the young man that reports had identified as the Slayer’s paramour.

"Your visitors’ passes," Walsh passed all of her guests a pass. "And I've assembled some reading material to bring you up to speed." She passed a thick wad of papers to the Slayer who paled and hurriedly passed them to the older of the men. "You can't take that home. That's classified material. Highly sensitive. When you're through reading those pages you'll have to eat them." The Englishman stared at her. She smiled. "I was joking. The papers can’t leave here though. Follow me." Walsh led her guests down the metal staircase and into the complex’s open centre. They stopped at the metal railing and peered down onto two tables containing a pair of squid-faced green demons strapped down as scrub-clad techs worked on them. "Much of our hands-on research with the HSTs is performed here. We call this 'The Pit.'"

"And what do you call those?" asked Faith, pointing at the two restrained demons.

"Tentacs, tough buggers," supplied Wesley.

Walsh preened herself. "They'll be under our control soon enough." She leaned over the railing. "Doctor Angleman!" The doctor looked up and waved before returning to his work. Walsh looked over to the others. "Head of our science team. He's a leader in the field of xenomorphic behaviour modification."

"I say," Rupert Giles spoke up. "Behaviour modification? Doesn’t that raise some ethical questions?"

"They’re demons," Walsh dismissed the Watcher’s worries with a hand gesture.

"What's over there?" Faith started to walk towards a chain-link fence containing large

caches of guns and equipment of all types guarded by a single commando.

"The armoury. You'll have to be cleared for use on each of these weapons," Walsh explained.

Suddenly lights began flashing and the air filled with the sound of klaxons. "What the hell!"

Walsh looked around, heart hammering. "We’re under attack!"

* * *

"Shit." Suddenly the weaponless Faith felt more naked than a novice stripper in a room full of clients. Turning towards Xander, she snapped out an order. "Get us some weapons out of the armoury."

"Belay that," Walsh snapped. Man, the bitch had a serious Hitler complex. Her and the late much unlamented Snyder would have been perfect just perfect together. "We have things perfectly under control."

Faith looked towards her man. "Xan, Gunn, get us some weapons."

"Sure, hon." Xander stepped towards the armoury.

"Halt, sir!" The soldier made to block her boy-friend’s way, Xander responded with a heel to the inside of the soldier’s knee. The moment the private stumbled forward, Xander sidestepped and drove an elbow into the side of his head. The Initiative operative was out before he hit the ground. Gunn scooped up the keys and threw them to Xander.

"See, if you’d read comics," Faith smirked at the scientist’s open-mouthed shock, "you’d know a Nick Fury out-fights a grunt every time."

"Sir," Giles looked at Faith, a speculative look in his eye, "I like the sound of that. Do you think-." She snorted and shook her head. The Englishman sighed. "I thought not, never mind."

* * *

Walsh glowered helplessly as the ‘Scoobies’ raided her armoury. "K," the brunette teen looked around, "Xan, right, Gunn left, Cordy, you with G and Wes taking our rear. You," the Bostonian street kid shot her what she’d heard described as a shit-eating grin, "best leave this to the pros."

"Was that really necessary?" she heard Rupert Giles mutter reprovingly.

"Nope," Faith winked at the Watcher. "Fun though." The Slayer turned serious. "Back to the main staging area."

* * *

Faith’s blood was pumping as she led the others back into the entrance hall. "SHIT!" Bodies were lain strewn on the on the ground, the walls splattered with blood and the filing cabinets thrown everywhere. There were a quartet of tall, skeletal figures wearing grey gowns stood in the centre of the wrecked room, only a luminous green eye visible from within each of their cowls and a collective hissing sound coming from their mouths. Pulling to a halt, Faith shouted behind. "G! What’s the 411?"

"They’re Wraiths, they make a living thieving for higher powered demons. They’re very fast, skilled fighters too. And their bite is very lethal, will kill in minutes. But they’re not especially strong and aren’t built for endurance. As I said, they’re used primarily for burglaries etc."

"I’ll take the two on the right," Faith yelled. "You guys hack the others to pieces."

Bounding forward, Faith ducked under a claw swing from the demon to her left while kicking his companion full in the stomach. Even as the unfortunate Wraith went airborne, Faith turned her attention back to the first, getting a bony back-hand to the face for her trouble.

Blood dripping from her mouth, Faith lunged back into the attack only to pull back when the Wraith flew at her, bony fingers outstretched in an attempt to claw her eyes out. Faith snatched hold of the demon’s wrists and dropped backwards, bringing her legs up to grab a vice hold around the creature’s tiny waist. The Wraith screech echoed the sound of its ribs cracking under her attack.

The moment Faith hit the ground, the beast’s head snapped towards her. Remembering her Watcher’s warnings about the danger of the Wraith’s bite, Faith snatched a hold of it under its jaw and on top of its head, and twisted. "Ughhh! Gross!" Faith shuddered as the monster’s head exploded off its shoulders, showering her in a yellow viscera.

Comforting herself that at least she knew for damn sure that the thing was dead, she shoved it off and rolled to her feet.

Just in time to get a foot to the mouth. "Damn!" Hitting her back on her shoulders, she allowed momentum to carry her into a backwards-roll and back onto her feet. Fists clenched, she glared at the advancing demon.

Who promptly fell to the ground, G’s thrown axe embedded in its back. "Did you just forget about your weapon?"

Faith glared at her Watcher, always nagging, before looking towards Walsh. "I suppose the tour’s over?" she asked.

* * *

Giles sank into the hotel’s couch, his heart filling with a combination of pride and wonder at the marvellous young people he had the privilege to work with. Once the last of them had sunk into a seat, Wesley spoke. "I notice you shared my qualms about the behaviour modification research?"

"Yes," Giles nodded.

"Why?" Faith asked. "They’re just demons."

"Is Charles just black? Is Willow just a Jew?" Giles shook his head. "Many demons mean no harm to mankind and don’t deserve to be shackled. Furthermore I can’t help but worry that an organisation that would make slaves of demons might well turn their attention to humans. First rival nations, then the lesser classes of their own people until everyone is subservient to a small elite."

"Wow," Xander muttered, "somebody overdosed on their Valium this morning didn’t they?"

Giles sniffed. "I prefer to get high on life." While everyone stared at him, he turned to Faith. "Nevertheless, we will keep in contact with Professor Walsh, better the devil you know etc."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "She gave off a creepy Nazi vibe. I definitely do not like her."

"And who did you think hired those demons?" asked Xander.

"Um," Giles pursed his lips together. "There’s really no way to tell. They had no identifying papers on them," he scowled, "at least I didn’t have chance to see any before their corpses were taken by the Initiative. And Wraiths tend to be mercenaries, with no particular loyalty to any master save the one paying them at that very moment."

"Yes," Wesley interrupted. "But we do know one thing." Giles looked inquiringly at his subordinate. "Wraiths are extremely expensive and normally contracted to work in pairs. There were four of them. Obviously their employer was very eager to get whatever he was after from the Initiative and is a being of considerable resources to be able to afford twice the normal amount of Wraiths."

Faith shrugged. "Guess it’s just one of those things we’ll never solve."

"Indeed," Giles nodded, a bland expression hiding his worry. They’d thwarted the Wraiths’ employer and he somehow suspected the mystery demon would not be the forgive and forget type. They’d doubtless made another powerful enemy. "Ah," he muttered under his breath, "our cup runneth over."

* * *

"They failed!" Archduke Sebassis half-rose out of his throne before sinking back into it, forehead creasing in thought. "They died in their failure?" His second-in-command nodded, frightened into silence by his rage. "Then that at least attends to one problem, but this Slayer." His fingers drummed a considering rhythm on his chair’s arms. He’d deigned to allow the Council to have their fun with the Slayer line, content in the knowledge that one girl could not stand against his 40 legions. But this girl had interfered with his plans. More than that, he’d heard more than one lower demon whisper her name, perhaps with more fear than they whispered his.

Something would have to be done.

* * *

"How did the tour go?" Angelman asked.

"I'm not sure. She's unpredictable." Walsh scowled. If there was one thing she didn’t like it was being out of control.

"She's an unnecessary risk." Angelman complained.

"Possibly." Walsh conceded. "But the gains her DNA could give are worth the risk. How's our baby doing today?"

"Adjusting nicely. Reflexes, motor-functions. All off the charts." Angelman smirked.

"That's what I like to hear. Almost time to wake up, Adam and take your first look at the world. I know you're gonna make me proud."

* * *

She gasped as her eyes shot open. For a few seconds she just lay there, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Then she looked around, forehead furrowing as she looked around her unfamiliar surroundings, a sterilely featureless room.

"No," she gasped as the memories came flooding back. Teeth gritted with the effort, she tore the tubes out of her self and rose, the beginnings of a plan forming. First she’d get some clothes.

And then she’d make them pay.

"So," Faith had to fight back a purr as Xander stroked her hair as she leaned into him, "a night off patrol. Any idea how you wanna spend it?"

Faith grinned up at her man. "Oh yeah, all nice and x-rated."

Xander’s Adam’s Apple did its nervous dance that she found so cute. "Um, it’s sort of early for that…"

Faith grabbed Xander’s hand and began dragging him in the general direction of the renovated boarding-house. "Shit, X!" she exclaimed. "It’s never too early for that!"

* * *

"Hah," Wesley rummaged through his paper bag of groceries, a beaming smile on his face as he found the ‘hot-rod’ magazine he’d bought. Rupert and the others would never guess, he just shuddered at the thought of the baiting he’d receive, but he’d always had a passion for motor bikes. One day soon he’d have enough to buy himself a Harley, and until then he could dream.

Once he’d carefully placed all the groceries away he made his way through to his darkened lounge, rolled up magazine in hand. Whistling a tune, he reached for the light.

"Ahhh." A crushing pain enveloped his right hand, driving him to his knees. He blinked away tears as the light was flickered on, heart chilling as he recognised the blonde stood over him. "T…Tegan."

His former Slayer smirked down at him. "You remembered."

Ignoring the searing pain in his hand, he lunged forward, hoping to tackle the blonde around her waist. "Pathetic!" A karate chop to the neck sent him facefirst to the carpet. "All those months in a coma, then I wake up. Is there a party waiting for me? Is there a room filled with get well cards? No," he sensed rather than saw the blonde shake her head, "you and the rest just closed your eyes, and hoped I’d go away. Well," again he sensed rather than saw the blonde’s smirk, "I’m back."

"Owwww!" he yelled as pain tore through his scalp as he was lifted by his hair and flung into the wall by the door. Heart racing, he twisted towards the doorknob only to catch a jarring right to his jaw that knocked him back to his knees.

"An English gentleman should know his manners." He gasped as the Slayer grabbed him in a chokehold. "Well, I’ll have a few hours to teach you some."

* * *

"Oh yes," Tegan grabbed the Watcher’s bowed head by his hair and yanked his head up, inspecting the swollen right eye, broken nose, bloodied lips, and mangled, misshapen face. She was more than satisfied with her night’s work. The Watcher whimpered into his gag as she sat on his lap. Her eyes fixed on her Watcher’s face; Tegan licked two fingers before rubbing the swelling under the Englishman’s eye. "All these little cuts and bruises - just bring out the mother in me.  Something I no longer have thanks to you and your buddies." She slapped her Watcher across the face. "Come on.  Don't poop out on me, damn it!  Otherwise this all just going to be over too fast, and you'll be dead and I'll be bored." Tegan smirked before putting on an English accent. "Come on, Wesley!  Where is that stiff upper lip?" She yanked the Englishman’s gag out of his mouth. "How could you choose that loose bitch over me?" she demanded.

The Englishman stared at her for a long second before replying. "Whatever her flaws, her rough edges, Faith has many qualities that you don’t have – compassion, loyalty, courage, determination." The Englishman hissed painfully as he pulled his face up into a sneer. "If she was here right now, you’d been curled up in a corner, begging her not to kick your miserable arse."

"Whoa!" Tegan hid her anger behind a laugh. "Wesley’s grown a pair has he?" She smiled as she produced a carving knife. "Maybe at some point I’ll have to slice them off."

Wesley eyeballed her with his good eye. "I was your Watcher, Tegan. - I know the real you - and even if you kill me, there is just one thing I want you to remember."

"What's that?" Tegan yawned theatrically.

"You are a piece of sh.."

Tegan shoved her gag back into the Englishman’s mouth. "Gutter-mouth," she scolded. "That Faith has been rubbing off on you." Tegan threw her head back and laughed. "But I bet that little slut rubs off on anything with a pulse. I guess I'll just have to try a little harder." Placing the knife down, she ripped open the Watcher’s shirt, surprised at the muscles she found under there before smashing a picture frame, and picking up a glass shard. "Blunt’s got boring. We'll switch to sharp for a while."

* * *

"Twenty past nine," Giles shook his head as he looked around the deserted office. "Bloody intolerable." Cordelia hadn’t turned up yet, but then his ‘house-guest’ had clearly failed punctuality and good manners at high school, and he’d learnt to live with that. But Wesley was an entirely different matter, he expected a little discipline from his fellow Watcher.

* * *

Tegan looked towards the ringing phone. "I wonder who that is?"

Eight rings later and the Watcher’s answering machine kicked in. "Bloody hell, Wesley," she smiled as she recognised Giles’ agitated voice. "It’s Rupert. How am I supposed to keep these hellions in line if my business partner doesn’t turn up for work? Call me." The abrupt beep of the phone being hung up ended the conversation.

"I wonder if they care enough to come checking on you?" she stared speculatively at her captive before smiling. "Considering even that bunch of losers don’t like you, I’m betting not. Now that I’ve stripped you to your Jockeys, nice design by the way," she grinned at the Watcher’s reddening, "I bet you could do with a little warming. See," she continued as she rose and walked through to the kitchen, the helpless man still secured to his wooden seat, cut off clothes cast haphazardly across the once scrupulously neat lounge, "even though you deserted me for that bitch, I’m still thinking of you. Because I’m the bigger person. Pliers," she lied as she opened a drawer and found nothing of interest, "maybe I’ll go into dentistry later." Chuckling at the Watcher’s choked sob, she walked back with a pair of scissors and a rolling pin. "Amazing what you can use if you’ve just got a little bit of ingenuity."

After pulling the gag out, Tegan sat down on the easy chair opposite the Watcher. "To be honest," she continued as she stared hungrily at the bloodied man, "I was going to boil up some water. When I was ten," she rolled up her left sleeve to reveal a burn on her, "I knocked over the kettle and burnt myself, hurt like nothing on earth. A pan on Wesley Junior would have quite the effect." She smiled at the Englishman’s barely controlled horror. "But, I realised this is an opportunity, a chance for us to really get to know one another. Besides, sometimes anticipation makes things ten times worse."

The Watcher continued to stare at her, face stony. Tegan shook his head. "Geez, having an one-way conversation is hard." Tegan brushed her hair aside. "Since this may be the last chance we will have to unload on each other, I feel that it is kind of my duty to tell you that if you'd been a better Watcher, I might have been a more positive role model!" Tegan shook her head. "Face it, Wesley, you really aren’t cut out to be a Watcher.  Always walking around as if you had some great big stake rammed up your ass.  The only reason Faith and any of the others ever listened to a word you said was because Giles made them. Without him backing you up, you’re nothing." She paused. "I think I want to hear you beg."

"Not going to happen."

Tegan smiled as she spied Wes’ belt hanging out of his discarded pants. "Oh," she scooped down and picked up the belt, "I think it is." Striding over to the CD rack, she found a vaguely recognisable band and shoved it into the player, turning the volume up to almost full blast. "Start any time you want to." She folded the belt double and raised her arm back.

* * *

"Nurse murdered at a private hospital." Kate’s eyes widened as she read the incident report, a cold finger trailing up her back as she recalled the favour she’d done for Giles just a few weeks previously. Grabbing her cell, she hurriedly called up her boyfriend’s number. "Come on, come on."

* * *

"And another thing-."

Giles groaned inwardly as Cordelia went on. And on. And on. All day alone with the company nag. When he got his bloody hands on Wesley, there wouldn’t be enough left to make a positive id. "Ah!" he beamed as the phone rang. "A client." God he hoped that it was something really urgent. "Hello," he snatched up the phone, "Watcher Securities-."

"She’s awake," he was interrupted by his girl-friend’s hoarse, almost frightened voice.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"That girl you asked me to look for. Your rogue Slayer, she’s awake!"

"Slow down, Kate." Giles shivered as he was reminded to be careful what one wished for. "How do you know?"

"I’ve got a report in front of me about the murder of a night-shift nurse and the disappearance of a Jane Doe from their ICU. A girl with injuries that according to all medical science meant she would never breathe unaided again, much less walk."

Giles licked his lips, a cold ball forming in his gut as jigsaw pieces fell into place. "Thank you, Kate." Hanging up, he looked towards Cordelia. "Tegan’s awake and free," Cordelia’s eyes widened and mouth opened. Not wanting to risk the inevitable barrage of questions, he continued. "Ring Faith and everyone, tell them to meet me at Wes’."

"But, you can’t take her -."

"She has Wesley," he picked out a double-bladed axe and a few other weapons. "I can’t wait for the others to get there. Tell them to hurry!"

Minutes later and he was pulling up outside Wesley’s. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he looked up at the darkening sky, guilt filling him. The mad bitch had had Wesley for the entire day. One bloody phone call, why couldn’t he have been arsed to come check on his partner? He would have if it had been one of the kids. "Well, maybe not Xander," he muttered.

As he strode up the driveway, the guilt hardened, turned into a cold rage, face setting into a stony expression as his blood fired. "You should have just run," he snarled before slamming a shoulder into the door. On the second attempt it swung open. "TEGAN!"

* * *

"Ah," Tegan threw aside the bowl of iced water she’d been holding Wesley’s head in, three minutes in, one minute out, for the past hour, and pushed the chaired man to the ground. "The real Watcher’s here. I wonder if he’ll be impressed."

A thrill ran through as she stepped into the hallway to be confronted by the hard-faced, cold-eyed Watcher, a million miles away from the genteel librarian. "Hey Giles!" she laughed. "Haven’t you forgotten something, like your Slayer?"

"I don’t need a Slayer to deal with you," the Englishman growled. "You’re not a Slayer, just a spoilt little brat."

"Is that right?" All amusement fled at the Watcher’s reply. Tegan leapt forward, snatching a hold of the Englishman’s axe-shaft as he swung it at her head. "Don’t think so." She stepped towards him, clenched fist swinging in for a kidney punch when his forehead slammed into her nose.

"Ahh!" More surprised than hurt, she released her grip on the axe and stepped backwards. The Watcher responded by swinging his axe down in a skull-cleaving manoeuvre.

"You’re feistier than Wesley!" A grin on her face, she sidestepped the attack then ducked as the Watcher changed his attack into a back-handed slash. "He was out after five seconds!"

"You little bitch!"

Tegan caught the raging Englishman’s attempted knee to the crotch on her inner thigh then snatched his axe from him, and coolly embedded it in the wall. "Now what have you got?" She laughed as the Englishman threw an overhand right, leaned away from the attack and landed a body shot in his gut. Snatching a hold of the doubling-up Watcher’s collar, she flung him into the wall clock, knocking him and clock into a pile on the floor. Stepping towards the Watcher, she caught a hold of his ankle as he kicked desperately at her. "Still fighting hey?" She flung the man into the steps, grabbed the remains of the clock and threw it into the Watcher’s head as he struggled to his feet.

The Watcher grabbed hold of the banister rail as he almost fell, using it to steady himself. "You’re a game one, Rupert," she taunted as she ducked under a wild haymaker and drove a knee into the man’s stomach. The moment Giles began to double up, she grabbed a hold of his collar and flung him over the banister and the ground.

"Owww!" the Englishman hit the ground with a thud. His hand shot out to grab a hold of the ornate hall table and weakly push it over into her path.

Tegan contemptuously kicked the obstacle away. "Please," she taunted as the Watcher started to drag himself up by the wall, "is that all you’ve got left?" The moment the man was upright, she punched him in the kidneys. He groaned and slid back to the ground.

"That’s so going to cost you!"

* * *

Faith’s heart was thumping as she charged through Wes’ front doorway. Tegan barely had time to begin turning to meet her when her right smashed into the other Slayer’s face. Blood sprayed the wall as she followed up with a left hook to the blonde’s mouth. "That’ll wipe the-, oof!" she grunted as Tegan caught her with a side-heel to the gut, knocking her into the wall.

Seeing a right palm-strike coming in fast, Faith flung herself to the left. Hitting the stairs on her side, she rolled away from Tegan’s attempted stomp to the pelvis, kicking at the other supernatural warrior’s hamstring. Tegan grunted and fell face-first into the wall. Faith kicked at her lower back only for the other girl to pirouette gracefully away.

Tegan smiled at Faith as she leapt to her feet. "Ooooh, Faithie how you’ve been?" The blonde smiled winningly at her. "I see the trailer trash look’s still uniquely yours. And how’s that Alex of yours?" the rogue Slayer chuckled. "I’ll have to look him up."

Faith’s nostrils flared as her simmering rage erupted. "Bitch!" Charging forward, she caught her rival with a leaping right backhand to the face. Tegan’s eyes widened as the blow lifted her off her feet and flung her into the lounge, panel doors flying off their hinges, and her rival hitting the ground in the middle of the carpet. "You don’t get to menti…." Her voice trailed off as she registered the bludgeoned, brutalised man lying on the floor.

Wes’ hideously battered face was unrecognisable, not an inch of it wasn’t bloodied, bruised or somehow marked. His semi-naked body was likewise covered in knife-slashes, electrocution burns, bruises, and welts. Bile rising in her throat, she didn’t notice that Tegan had regained her feet until her head exploded in pain from an elbow, knocking her into the wall.

"Like what I’ve done with the place?" the blonde smirked before kicking out with a right heel.

"Not really." Faith blocked and grabbed the foot inches from her face, swept the grounded left off the carpet, and threw the blonde into the air. Tegan hit the table by the wall with a crash, tipping it over on top of her. "I could make a few suggestions."

She’d barely taken a step towards the table when she heard Xander’s voice from the doorway. "Oh my god, Giles! Is Faith here!" She turned instinctively towards her man’s voice.

"Oww!" She leapt to the side when Tegan kicked the table at her, falling into the couch.

Tegan grinned at her before leaping to her feet, running to the front of the lounge and leaping through the curtained windows, glass flying. Faith shook her head as she started after the other Slayer. "Girl’s nuttier than bat-shit."

"Faith, no!" she turned to see Giles in the doorway, supported by Xan and Gunn. "We have more urgent concerns."

Faith followed her guardian’s gaze to Wes and nodded. "I’ll ring an ambulance."

"No time," Giles shook his head, "Gunn, you and Xander load Wesley into the back of my car, Faith I’ll need you to hold him while I drive. Lads, thank you for your assistance. Perhaps you could put your skills to good use securing Wesley’s place as best as possible."

* * *

Tegan watched and scowled as the quartet loaded Wesley’s broken body into Giles’ car. If Xander and Gunn hadn’t shown up, she’d have had both Watchers and Faith right where she wanted them, then the fun could have really begun. "Wow, quite a work ethic you have there, lassie."

Tegan started at the rich voice behind her. Spinning around, she stared up at the darkly handsome stranger grinning at her. "You’re a vampire!" she hissed, skin crawling as she realised she’d foolishly not bothered to make a stake.

"No," the demon smirked. "I’m Angelus."

"They sent you to hell." Tegan edged backwards.

"These things always have loopholes," Angelus smirked. "And you’re a Slayer, but you don’t see me going all fangy do you?" Angel’s smirk changed to a scowl. "No, I think we have a common enemy. You know the saying ‘payback’s a bitch’, and I think you’re just the bitch for me."

Tegan smiled. "You say the nicest things."

Angel returned her smile with one of her own. "Come on, I’ll show you to my base, then we can plan our next move. I’m sure it’ll be a bloody one."

* * *

"We’ll show that bitch," the blonde ranted as she paced the dusty warehouse. Angelus cast her the occasional amused look as he rummaged through the warehouse’s rubbish. "We’ll make her beg, scream to die. We’ll make her thank us for ending her miserable existence."

Angelus smiled as he found what he was looking for and walked over to show his new-found companion. "Well," Angelus slammed the lead pipe into the back of the Slayer’s head, knocking her to her knees, "you’re half-right. But the word you were looking for was I not we." He kicked his guest in the small of the back. The Slayer grunted and looked up at him, pain and shock in her ocean blue eyes. "Hey," he feinted with a kick to the ribs before crashing the pipe down on her back, knocking her face-first to the dusty floor, "newsflash, I’m evil and a vampire, therefore not to be trusted. What did you think?" he stamped on the blonde’s left knee, the warehouse echoed to the sounds of the bone shattering and her screams. "I was going to be a good little vampire, we were going to get married and have vampire children?" He vamped out. "Anne Rice isn’t here, but I am baby."

* * *

Kate rose as she and the others entered their apartment, an anxious look on the cop’s face. "How is Wesley?"

"His injuries while many are not severe, he simply needs rest," Giles grimaced. "A lot of it."

"Shouldn’t someone be there, guarding him?" Kate suggested.

"Let’s face it, Tegan would tear through any of us, unless Faith herself was permanently on guard there, which is frankly unworkable." Giles shook his head. "Instead I arranged for him to be put in under an assumed name. Also I persuaded Willow out of her funk long enough to place a charm on Wesley, he now has blonde hair, green eyes, and speaks with a strong mid-western accent."

Faith nodded. "And what we gonna do-."

She was interrupted when the window exploded and a grey-skinned body hit the ground, naked body covered in bruises and bones horribly mangled, a placard around her neck. "Tegan!" Giles was first to react, kneeling down beside the body.

"She’s dead?" Faith swallowed the bile that filled her throat.

"She’s dead," Giles’ eyes however were fixed on the placard.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"Really," Giles stuttered, "I hardly think it’s important."

"What does it say?"

Giles started at her hard tone. Recovering quickly, her guardian read out the placard. "Um, delicious, she tasted so nice going down, but not as nice as you will. I couldn’t let her have you. You’re all mine. Love, Angelus."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Wait, wait!" Wesley hobbled to his apartment’s front door, pain shooting through his battered body. Reaching the door he froze for a moment before reminding himself that Tegan, he trembled at just her name, was dead. "H…hello," he hated himself for the tremble as he spoke through the door, "w…who is it?"

"It’s me, Wes."

Brow furrowing at the recognisable yet surprising voice, Wesley hurriedly unlocked the three locks and chain he’d had installed since his return home the previous day before pulling the door open. "Faith, what are you doing here?"

The strangely nervous-looking Slayer shuffled on the step for a second before speaking. "Figured you might need a hand with tidying your house up after-," the teen temptress looked down, "you know."

"Well um," Wesley leaned against the wall to take the weight off his weakened legs, "it’s very kind of you to offer but don’t you have lectures?"

"Ah," the Slayer slithered past him, the narrow space between him and the opposite wall no obstacle for the graceful warrior, "what’s study next to helping a friend?"

A friend? Wesley found himself smiling both at his apparent acceptance into the group and the concern in the beauty’s gypsy-brown eyes. "Indeed, one has to have their priorities right."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "That’s a good one. I’ll tell G that if he finds out I skipped class today."

* * *

"How long do you think they’ll last?" Xander asked.

"I’ve got twenty that says less than two minutes," Gunn said.

"I’ll equal that and say two thirty," Cordelia.

"I was a soldier once. I know the training these guys had to go through," Xander shook his head. "Three minutes is my twenty."

"You’re betting on Faith? That’s outrageous!" Giles shook his head.

"Well if you don’t want in on the pool…." Xander said.

"I never said that. Twenty on under one minute." Giles smirked at the others’ gasps. "I know my Slayer." Eyes narrowing, he turned his attention back to the scene in question.

A few of the ski-masked Initiative commandos were prowling through the trees and bushes. The lead commando silently motioned forward and three of them disappeared into a tall stretch of bushes.

Suddenly one of them flew back over the undergrowth. Faith burst into the clearing, the other two commandos hitting the ground either side of her. Giles’ heart leapt into his throat as a fourth and fifth commando charged her from either side. Faith greeted the fourth commando with quick alternating front kicks that the commando managed to block although the impact still knocked him off balance. Faith glided into a roundhouse kick into the fifth commando’s face as he attempted to sneak up behind her. The soldier staggered but didn’t go down – at least not until Faith caught him with a back heel kick to the chest. Then Faith turned to the straightening fourth commando, catching him with a leaping backhand to the side of the head that put him down.

The lead commando popped out of the bushes behind Faith, gun swivelling around for a shot. Before he had chance to pull the trigger, Faith was airborne, dropkicking him in the chest. The moment he hit the ground, Faith had him in a triangle choke. Seconds later it was all over.

"Forty-seven seconds," Xander gloomily reported. "Giles wins."

"But of course," he smugly replied. "You’ll understand if I don’t accept cheques off you three reprobates."

"Lights!" Suddenly a humvee’s lights illuminated the entire scene as Professor Walsh climbed out of the vehicle and started towards Faith.

Giles looked at the others. "Shall we?"

By the time they reached Faith, Walsh was stood before the Slayer. "Our best trained unit and you stopped them in under fifty seconds."

Faith shrugged. "That’s what clean living and thinking only good thoughts gets you."

"I see," Walsh stared uncertainly at Faith. "Very impressive." The scientist looked at Riley struggling to his feet. "Agent Finn, collect your team and return to base. Miss Giles, I’ll see you tomorrow for briefing."

Faith turned to them as Walsh walked off. "She loves me you know."

"Oh yes," Giles dryly replied. "For a moment there I thought I was back in the 60s dropping acid with the rest of the flower power crowd." Seeing the others’ confused expressions, he shook his head. Bloody hell but he felt old. "Never mind. Let’s go home."

* * *

"H…hi," Tara stuttered, her normal shyness magnified by a thousand as she tiptoed into her secret crush’s bedroom. "I..I’ve got two tickets for a lecture tonight by Bramley Greenwhalt, ‘Witches And Vampires, Their Effects On American Folkore’."

"Oh, Bramley Greenwhalt?" An once often seen but now rare light flickered in Willow’s red-ringed eyes. "He’d really good, I’ve read a couple of his books, there’s a lot of inaccuracies, but he’s not to know -," the red-head’s voice trailed off, brow furrowing. "No, I shouldn’t."

"What?" Tara demanded. "Are you going to spend the rest of your life in here," her nose wrinkled as she realised just how smelly and dirty Willow’s room was. "You have to go out. Nobody blames you-."

"I blame me!" Willow shouted. Suddenly the more powerful witch was lent against her, body shaking as she sobbed. After a second Tara put her arms around her, guilt growing as she enjoyed holding on her friend even as she hated her pain.

* * *

Faith sung under her breath as she walked through the Initiative headquarters. Faith stopped, blood chilling as she realised that SHE was singing a Kenny Rogers song, ‘Coward Of The County’. "Damn," she muttered as she shivered, she definitely needed a bath when she got home. And then she’d have to think about dumping Xander, he was a bad influence.

Nah, Faith shook her head. She’d only just got him trained, it would only be a waste of time and effort to break in another boyfriend. She’d just have to add music appreciation to his education – Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Guns ‘n’ Roses would be a start. She started off again, this time resolutely humming ‘Paradise City’.

And stopped as she realised something. Turning back to where she’d just halted, she stood on her tip-toes and peered through a door’s wired-glass window. Down

the corridor he can see a padlocked door marked 314, a keypad on the wall beside it. "Lost your way, Miss Giles?"

"Nah," she turned and leaned against the door, staring fearlessly up at the disapproving-looking Initiative director, "just nosy. My Watcher," she flashed the older woman her best smile, "says the only way to learn is to ask. So I’m asking," she nodded towards the mystery door, "what’s through the locked door?"

"Ah, your Watcher is a lover of proverbs." Walsh smiled, but she didn’t look happy. "Well here’s one for you – ‘loose lips sink ships’. This operation works on a need to know basis. And you don’t need to know."

"K," Faith shrugged the professor’s attitude bouncing off her rhino hide. She’d care what the scientist thought if she actually gave a shit about her. "Well gotta run," Faith smiled, unable to resist sliding the needle in, "I’ve got a lecture in an hour, and I need to have a shower first. I got quite a sweat on bouncing your boys around the gym. See ya."

* * *

"Goodbye," Walsh forced a smile as the impudent teen sauntered off, hips swinging. It was clear that her Watcher was far too lax with the little street urchin; she needed bringing down a peg or two. Why even this morning, she’d overheard several of her recruits raving about Faith in the canteen, and not just her attractiveness. Far more galling had been the proffered opinion that she seemed to have the Hellmouth under control, that they weren’t needed!

Walsh shook her head as she watched the teen turn the corner and disappear from view. Add her questioning about the 314 project, and it was clear her continued existence couldn’t be tolerated. She had hoped to engineer an incident whereby she could have the Slayer helpless and available for experimentation, but removing her corrosive influence was now the more pressing priority.

"I’m sure her corpse can provide interesting DNA information," Walsh comforted herself in a mutter. Opening the door, she walked through to the entrance to the 314 project, punched in her keycode and unlocked the padlock. Opening the door, she nodded at the assault rifle toting guard before striding over to a bone-saw handling Angleman. "I think we've got a situation."

Angleman looked up from his work, pulling down his surgical mask with bloodied, latexed fingers. "The Slayer?"

"She's becoming a liability," Walsh paced angrily.

"I said she could be a problem," Angleman stated. "What’s the exact nature?"

"Asking too many questions, querying the morality of the modification chip," Walsh sniffed. "Looking at her you’d think she didn’t even know what the word meant. And the men are questioning their worthiness next to her."

"We move to the contingency scenario?" Angelman started using scissor clamps on the project.

"Right away." Walsh nodded.

"Are we going to use?" Angleman looked down at the experiment.

"I don’t want to hurry him," she replied after a moment. "We’ve still got some tests to run before he’s operational. No, we can find other ways of dealing with her."

"It’s too bad though," Angleman commented. "She could have been a powerful ally."

"I know." Walsh agreed. "But she’s having an effect on team cohesiveness and discipline, and I won’t stand for that. She’s a bad apple I won’t have in my barrel!"

* * *

"Hey, G!" Giles looked up as Faith barrelled through the hotel lobby doors. "No Cor?"

"She had an appointment, tanning, pedicure, waxing," he shuddered at the very idea, "I find it best not to query too closely."

"You let her get away with too much," Faith chuckled as she placed her hands on the counter and leaned over it.

"You can talk," he retorted before hesitating, knowing what he was about to bring up was a very sensitive subject. "My father rang today."

"Oh yeah?" Faith beamed. "How’s the old coot?"

"I fail to see why you can get away with calling my father an old coot," Giles huffed.

"Looks and charm would be my guess," Faith’s smile widened. "I’m his adorable grand-daughter."

"Adorable? Hah!" Giles snorted before sobering. "Teg-, a new replacement Slayer has been Called, a girl by the name of Kennedy Lucas."

"Yeah?" All at once Faith’s eyes dimmed and hardened. "Where’s she based?"

"Connecticut."

Some of the tension left Faith. "Cool." His daughter fidgeted before looking up at the ceiling. "Is X home yet?"

"I remember when you were as eager to see me," Giles sighed in fond reminiscence.

"Shit G!" Faith’s nose wrinkled up as her eyes sparkled with teasing. "Nagging about guys, grades, staying out late, training, language, I was never eager to see you."

"Sad but true," Giles chuckled. "He’s upstairs."

"Later!" Faith called before sprinting up the stairs.

* * *

"Hey, stud," Xander looked up as Faith strutted into his apartment and leapt from the entrance and onto his bed beside him with Olympic finesse and ease. "Miss me?"

"Always," Faith smirked at his reply before leaning in for a kiss.

Ten minutes later and they were interrupted by a beeping. Xander looked up instinctively at the ceiling fire alarm. "That’s me," Faith grabbed for her belt and pulled something off it, "Initiative pager Walsh gave me, they need me in now."

"But things were just getting interesting," he pouted.

"Yeah I know," Faith rose fluidly, casting her hair back as she hastily fastened her blouse, "but I’ve gotta keep these asses sweet. The more guns I got watching my tight behind, the easier things will be for all of us, right?"

Xander scowled. "You sometimes use a Spock-like logic."

Faith stared at him, eyes filling with confusion. "That’s a yes, right?"

* * *

"It's a small job. Reconnaissance. Probably a waste of a Slayer's abilities, but my boys are on assignment so I—"

"No." Faith shrugged. "It's okay. I'm always up for some action."

"I doubt you'll get any on this one," Walsh warned, "it’s just it’s an one person job, and you’re the best suited for solo missions." Walsh pointed at a map up on the wall. "We have a reading of a class three sub terrestrial moving through the sewer tunnels just on the edge of town."

"Say what?" Faith never got military jargon.

"It's a low-level threat," Walsh explained. "Minimal aggression. Meagre defences.They barely show up on the scanner and occasionally turn out to be raccoons."

Faith fought back a yawn. "Sending a Slayer after raccoons, what ya got, a phobia?"

Walsh shot her a by now very familiar irritated glance. "We always take precautions." Walsh passed her a com-cam unit. "All we need you to do is get a visual on this thing. This will feed me back an image and I can advise you from there. I don't want to put you in any unnecessary danger."

"Oh. That's okay. Danger's my thing." Faith paused. "Well, that and smoking hotness."

"Quite," Walsh stared distastefully at her.

Faith smiled. "I just love this warm working relationship we’re developing. See ya!"

* * *

Faith’s nose wrinkled as she made her way through the narrow, dank tunnels. She stopped as she heard a snarling sound coming from deep in the chamber. "K, he sounds a little more than a Class three," she muttered before speaking into the com-cam’s mouthpiece. "Professor Walsh, are you getting this? Possible HST?" Faith gulped as a green, squid-faced demon stepped out, wearing ragged robes and carrying a battle-ax. "Make it a definite." She gulped when a second demon stepped out. "And he's brought along a friend." Faith began to back away the way she came only to groan at the sound of a gate dropping into place. "A middle-class, middle-aged bitch played me. Talk about humiliating."

Deciding that she was in definite favour of selective breeding, she charged forward, hitting the demons with alternating front kicks. The first fell against the cavern wall, but the second just grunted before bringing its axe down at her head. Faith nimbly side-stepped the attack and kicked the back of its knee, knocking it face-first into the wall, while ducking under a swing from the now-recovered first demon, side-kicking it in the gut. The second demon smashed its ax-handle against her jaw, making her see stars and knocking her sideways. The first demon swung at her, aiming for a decapitation, Faith gasped as she caught the axe handle just inches from her head.

Her muscles burning, she struggled for control of the axe. Hearing the sound of the other axe swinging towards her, Faith gave up the fight and dropped into a shoulder roll away from her two rivals.

A second later and the two demons were once again charging her in flanking positions. Faith leapt into the wall behind her, using the kick off to send her into a spinning kick to her opponents’ faces that sent both demons stumbling off-balance. Landing in a crouch between the pair, she powered up, catching them with a double clothesline that knocked them back another step.

The first demon swung at her, but she grabbed the axe handle with both hands and, changing tactics from her previous attempt, pivoted at the waist, sending the demon crashing into his companion, pinning him against the wall. Faith leapt into an inward

crescent kick knocking the demon’s ax aside before slamming a right fist into its gut. Upon landing, she followed up with a hard left hook. She smashed a knee into the first demon's face, the force of her attack straightening him, and then launched into a jumping back kick to the chest, slamming both demons against the wall again.

The first demon crashed to the ground, but the second charged her. Faith scooped up the first demon’s axe and smashed it into the on-coming demon’s head, dropping her attacker soundlessly to the ground. Before she had chance to do anything the first demon was up and swinging the second’s axe at her. Faith caught hold of the axe handle again and ripped it from the still stunned demon’s grip and reversed its swing into the demon’s gut.

Faith slumped against the wall, breath coming in adrenalin fuelled pants. Seeing the com-cam unit that had come off during the desperate battle lying on the dusty ground, she hurried over and lifted it to her face. "Yo Prof. That simple little recon you

sent me on wasn't a raccoon. Turns out it was me trapped in the sewers with two

of your pet demons. If you think that's enough to kill me, you really don't know what a Slayer is." She smiled. "Trust me when I say you're gonna find out." Dropping the camera on the ground, she stamped on it.

"Guys," Faith crashed through the lobby’s doors.

"Faith!" Giles rose at her arrival. "You’re late for pat-," her Watcher’s expression changed from irritated to worried as he hurried to her side. "Good lord, you’re shaking. Is something wrong?"

"Oh yeah," she forced a smile when her Watcher placed a hand on her shoulder, "something’s wrong. Walsh tried to have me killed."

Still shaking from Faith’s survival and threat, Walsh stormed into the dimly lit lab, slamming the door to 314 closed behind her. She looked down and smiled at the subject laid on the room’s central examining table. The subject was a male of perhaps twenty years of age. Or rather was. While one half of his face was the normal skin, the right side was a combination of dark green skin and metal plating. Most of his chest and right shoulder was also green, but there was also other patches of different skin. Wherever the skins met there was hideous scarring. "So. All right. Fine. If she wants a fight, we'll give her one. Won't we, Adam? I've worked too long. Too long . . . to let some little bitch threaten this project. Threaten me. She has no idea who she's dealing with." Walsh turned towards a second table, picking up the bone-saw lying on it. She picked it up, intending to put it away. "It's for the greater good. AHH!" Walsh looked down at the spear erupting from her chest before looking over her shoulder, eyes widening in shock as she saw ADAM sitting up behind her. "Adam?"

ADAM smiled down at her as she hit the floor, the last thing she heard before she died was her creation uttering his first word. "Mommy."

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