Manners steepled his fingers as he watched his minions snipe and argue, competing for his attention and approval.

"You’d think they’d know when to give up," raged Lindsey. "But no, she’s been dead two months, but they’re still out there!"

"In the past nine weeks, they’ve killed four clients and stopped three money-making schemes," added Lillah before smirking. "But I’ve come up with a solution." The leggy brunette passed papers around the desk.

"A demonic bike gang?" Gavin sniffed disdainfully as he looked down at the papers. "That’s a little low-scale considering the sort of foes the ‘Scoobies’ have vanquished before."

"They had the Slayer then," Lindsey pointed out. "A biker gang will be too much for them now."

"I hate to agree with Lindsey," Lillah’s smile was more cyanide than sugar. "But the Slayer is gone, her Watcher a grief-stricken zombie, and her boy-friend a drunk, their forces are severely depleted."

"The Groosaluug and Charles Gunn have proven to be formidable opponents in the past. And Willow Rosenberg’s powers continue to grow at an exponential rate," Gavin responded. "One can’t be too cautious."

"No," Holland agreed, "one can’t. But one can be too free with the firm’s funds. Hire two not one biker gangs, but no-one more high-scale than that. And warn our employees to be in the building or their homes by nightfall tomorrow night. They’ll have the free run of the town."

* * *

"Willow, this is black -."

"I don’t care!" Willow hissed. Seeing the shock in Tara’s eyes, she controlled herself. "Faith’s gone, we’re barely hanging on without her."

"Xander and Giles aren’t hanging on," Cordelia added her support. "Xander hasn’t left the offices in a week, and if not for Kate he’d probably in jail for any one of half a dozen bar fights in the past two months. Giles is even worse. I don’t know," Cordelia caught herself, voice trembling momentarily, "how long they’ll last."

"Yeah," Gunn’s agreement was grudging, but nevertheless there. "Whadda ya need?"

Willow smiled victoriously. "Well the first thing is don’t tell the others, Wesley wouldn’t approve. And stay away from Lorne, we can’t risk him finding out."

* * *

"Any change," whispered Wesley as he entered the office, Kate and Groo in tow.

"I’m afraid not," Lorne shook his head, the demon’s usual flamboyance dulled after a day on what Kate had gloomily called ‘suicide watch, "they’re about as down as a Smiths reunion concert."

Wesley smiled dourly, getting the musical reference even if his companions didn’t. "You don’t suppose either of them would be up to joining us?"

His shoulders slumped at Lorne’s doleful headshake. "Not unless you want to risk them offering their throats to the first vampire they come across."

"Bloody hell," he pursed his lips. "And the others have they turned up?"

"All four have called up with some excuse or other." Lorne hesitated.

"Yes?" Wesley said.

"It’s these two," Lorne looked towards the upstairs where Giles and Xander now both lived for ease of supervision. "There’s something momentous going to happen tonight, there’s something around their auras."

"Have either of them sung?" Kate queried.

"Oh lord no." Lorne shuddered. "And the state they’re in I wouldn’t want them to. The feedback would probably knock me out quicker than a Mike Tyson combo. It’s just something."

"Well if you hear something or from the others contact me," Wesley instructed. He didn’t like Lorne’s vague warning, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it without specifics.

"Okay Bossman," the demon’s smiled a forced smile. "And may I say what a fine job you’re doing. You’re the man!"

* * *

Gunn looked around the darkened forest, shivering slightly at the chill. It was damn cold out. Or maybe it wasn’t any colder than normal and it was just the idea of what they were going to do chilling him to the bone. He kept his eyes away from the grave to the left. The closer they got to the ritual, the less he liked it. But he was firmly out-voted, Cordy and Willow were dead-set on it, and while Tara might have her reservations, she was unlikely to say anything.

"Does everybody have their candles lit?" Willow demanded.

"I'm trying," Cordelia replied, "my lighter won't stay lit."

"Well, hurry," Willow shot the former high school queen an impatient look, "it has to be ready in less than a minute."

"I got it, I got it. I got it."

"Okay." Willow nodded. "Start the circle. Now." Gunn fought back a sigh as he joined the others in kneeling, he, Tara, and Cordy all holding candles while Willow held the Urn of Osiris. Only now did Gunn manage to force himself to glance towards Faith’s gravestone. Willow produced a small jar and poured its contents into the urn. ""Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us." The witch dipped her finger into the urn and marked her forehead and both cheeks with the blood. "Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing." She poured urn’s contents onto the earth. "Accept our offering. Know our prayer."

Gunn’s eyes widened when the witch jerked forward, tongue lolling out of her mouth, arms shooting out to her sides, bloody gashes streaking across them. "Willow!"

"N…no!" a pale-faced Tara pulled him back. "She told me this might happen. That she could be tested."

Willow’s eyes shot up to the sky. "Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over." The witch winced as her skin seemed to ripple, something moving under it."

"We gotta stop!" Gunn shook his head. This was very bad.

"Gunn, she's strong!" Tara protested. "She said not to stop, no matter what. If we break the cycle now, it's over."

His head snapped right as he heard a loud rumbling. "Oh god, what is that noise?" demanded Cordelia.

"Trouble," Gunn grimly prophesised.

* * *

Lorne sighed as he patrolled the hotel’s corridors. This place with its barely functioning ‘guests’ was death on one’s soul. He stopped as he heard a song, Xander singing softly. Despite the queasiness threatening to swamp him, he stopped and creaked the door open to find the youth sat on his bed, a cd playing in the background, tears flowing down his face. The boy smiled weakly at his entrance. "Hurt by Nine Inch Nails, one of Faith’s favourites."

"Oh my god," he gasped as images shot before him. "What have they -." His legs buckled under him before he could finish the question, sending him crashing to the ground.

* * *

"Osiris, let her cross over! Aah..."

"Oh this is boogie-woogie weird shit," Gunn barely breathed as the witch began to choke, a snake popping out of her open mouth.

Tar looked around. "It's a test. It's a test. Willow..."

"Osiris, release her!" Willow squealed.

Suddenly the sound of motor bikes grew louder, demon bikers bursting into the immediate vicinity. One of the demons rode over the Urn of Osiris, shattering it.

"No!" Willow screamed, eyes shooting open as she slumped forward.

"Let’s hustle," Gunn snatched hold of the limp Willow and led the other two girls into the undergrowth.

Willow groaned. "Willow!" Tara whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Did it work?" the pale-faced witch asked.

"Sorry," Gunn shook his head.

* * *

Faith gasped as her mouth opened, heart clenching in terror as she noticed the impregnable darkness surrounding her. She reached out to find she was surrounded by something, it felt wood on either side. "Gotta get out," she panicked. Her hands shot up, wood splintering under her.

She had to get out.

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Kate hissed.

"Indeed I did," Wesley confirmed.

"That sounded like bikes didn’t it?" Kate pressed.

"Yes, it did." Wesley looked towards Groo. "Where did it come from?" he queried, trusting to the hybrid’s super-human senses.

"Towards the town," Groo replied.

"In that case that’s where we head," he decided.

* * *

Lorne pounded on the Englishman’s door. "Giles! Giles! Giles!"

"Leave me alone!"

Lorne winced at the Englishman’s slurred and hostile tone. Obviously the Watcher had been hitting the gin hard again. Ignoring the shout, he shoved the door open and walked in, dragging Xander behind him. "Sing!" the Watcher stared blankly at him. "Sing! Damn it!"

The Watcher grinned crookedly before starting to sing. "One more dead demon, barged into the wrong room," the Watcher wailed. "One more dead demon, marched to his doom."

"She’s did it, that stupid girl." Lorne gulped, both at the menace in the Englishman’s words and what he saw.

"Who’s done what?" Xander demanded, voice hoarse with pain.

Lorne glanced from one human to the other, suddenly conscious of the explosive situation he found himself in. "Willow’s resurrected Faith."

A long silence followed his announcement. Then Xander began to laugh, a terrifyingly hysterical note in his voice. "That idiot," Giles breathed, all the glaze leaving his eyes, "what possessed her?"

Xander’s eyes snapped towards the Watcher. "This is a good thin-."

"A good thing?" the Englishman lurched to his feet, fire blazing in his bleary eyes. "Think with your brains instead of your old man, you bloody idiot!" the Watcher snapped. "Willow will be using black magics, the sort that warp a soul. And what if it doesn’t work? Or if Faith’s brought back wrong?"

"I’m prepared to take that chance!" Xander snapped before spinning around and hurrying out of the room.

"Bugger it," as he turned, Lorne heard Giles’ trembling whisper, "so am I, may god have mercy on my soul."

* * *

Faith stared around as she walked down the main street. She was dressed in the dress she’d worn for her prom, all those years ago. All around was chaos, cars burning, streets littered with debris, the sound of sirens in the background. Hearing a motor bike behind her, she ducked behind a car with broken windows, its glass tinkling underfoot.

* * *

"This is wild," Kate gasped as she looked around. "This reminds me of the LA. Riots only with demons."

"Quite," Wesley felt a shiver run up his back at the devastation around them. "This is terrible." He grabbed Groo’s shoulder as the hybrid started forward. "Don’t be a fool, man!" he snapped. "Back to the office. We’ll have to reinforce."

"Even if we-."

"I know, Kate," he interrupted. "I know. We’re still grossly out-numbered."

* * *

"Where did this ceremony take place?" Giles demanded as he pulled on his jacket. He cast Lorne an impatient look. "Well?"

"Ever heard the phrase ‘don’t shoot the messenger?’" Lorne raised his hands at Giles’ glare. "I think it was by Faith’s," he swallowed, an unexpected tightness in his throat, "grave."

He took a step back when Giles’ eyes flashed. "Five priests from five different faiths blessed the ground to ensure demons wouldn’t bother her, but no her friends have to desecrate her! That Willow, I’ll wring her bloody neck!"

* * *

"We have to go out and look for them." Willow commented.

"Wes, Kate, and Groo you mean?" Gunn shook his head. "We need more than us, there must be thirty bikers out there. And not your usual biker thugs, actual Hell’s Angels!"

Willow let out a choked sob. "We don’t have a Faith."

"Yeah," Gunn looked around the darkened street, the sound of gang violence all too loud and near. "I noticed."

"It wasn't your fault. We, we don't know if the spell would have worked, even if the demons hadn't-," Tara’s voice trailed off.

"It would have worked." Willow shook her head.

Gunn looked towards the witch. "Well maybe," his voice trailed off as his nerve failed.

"Maybe it wasn't supposed to," Gunn was surprised when Tara took up his point. "I mean, those demons showing up at the exact wrong time? Maybe we really were in over our heads. Invoking forces that we have no right to. Maybe the fates sent down all that destruction on us to stop us."

Suddenly a figure dropped out of the sky to land in front of them. "Watch it!" Gunn blustered

The brunette rose out of her crouch. "Holey moley!" Tara gasped. "It’s Faith!"

Gunn’s legs almost gave way under him, as he questioned the undeniable evidence of his eyes. "Faith?"

The Slayer let out an animalistic snarl before turning and running away, long locks swinging in the cold night air behind her.

"Faith!" the four of them let out a group yell before chasing after the fleeing brunette.

* * *

"This is bad," Wesley muttered as he led his group into a darkened alley. Any thought of confronting their enemy had gone when they’d realized just how many of them there were. "Very-, oooof!" A slight but powerful blur crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. Wesley stared up dazedly from the ground, his indignation draining as he realized his two companions were staring slack-jawed at the intruder. "F….Faith, good lord."

The Slayer sunk to the ground by the bins, arms crossed and knees pulled up into her face. Gathering his feet, Wesley walked towards the young beauty. "Faith, are you-." The Slayer flinched away from him. Wesley turned. "Kate, phone Giles-."

"Faith!" Willow led Gunn, Cordelia, and Tara into the alley.

Wesley’s breath caught as something monstrous occurred. He shook his head even as he spoke to the red-haired witch. "Willow," he barely breathed, "what have you done?"

The witch’s eyes flashed as she looked towards him. "What we needed to do!" she snapped. "We needed help!"

"Not this, never this!" Wesley snapped angrily. "This is-."

"This is Faith!" Willow retorted. "She’s back!"

"Wes what are you," Kate’s voice trailed off. "Oh no. Willow you didn’t?"

* * *

"Guys?" Cordelia glared warningly at the cop, witch, and Watcher. "Not helping!" Her eyes turned back to Faith. "You’re filthy. Your hands are bleeding."

"Oh no," she looked up at her suddenly ashen faced boy-friend. "She had to climb out of her coffin, out of her grave."

"Faith," Cordelia’s heart shriveled at her boy-friend’s revelation. She reached out to take her friend’s wounded hands only for the Slayer to pull away.

"You aren't reaching her, she's too traumatized," Tara whispered

Cordelia nodded but continued anyhow. "Faith it's gonna be all right. We brought you back. You're home now." Faith’s head peaked up, normally luminous eyes dull and, she hated to say it but, lifeless. "Yeah, that's it. You're home."

"Yeah, welcome home, Slayer."

Cordelia’s head snapped up to see a bear-like demon and several of the bikers crowding into the alley. "Alive and kickin' after all!" The demon growled. ""Not looking too good, though, is she?"

"I don't see you winning too many beauty contests," Gunn commented. "Unless the Miss "My Face Fell Off" pageant gets going."

The demon looked towards Gunn. "Big axe you got there."

"Sharp too," Gunn cracked his neck.

"You should leave here now," bluffed Wesley.

The demon shook his head. "Now, my boys, see, that's tricky. They came looking for a massacre. And you look like just the subjects." Suddenly the demon crashed a backhand into Willow’s jaw, sending the witch crashing into some boxes. "Now let me tell you something. We're not gonna fight you. We're just gonna hold you down and enjoy your womenfolk for a few hours. They might even live through it. Except that certain of my boys got some anatomical incompatibilities that, uh, tend to tear up little girls. So, who wants to go first?"

"I don’t think so!" Wesley lunged at the demon, dagger sweeping up in an underarm attack. The demon grabbed the Watcher’s wrist inches from his body and flung him into the wall.

Then Faith stepped up in front of him. "I was really hoping it'd be you." The demon’s fist crashed into Faith’s mouth. Faith’s head snapped to the side, blood flying out. And then she turned towards him.

Razor threw another punch only for Faith to grab his fist and hold it. Her other hand swung up, catching him under the chin. Even as his head snapped back, her foot smashed into his crotch, doubling him up. As his head swung down Faith looped an arm around his neck and twisted. The sound of the monster’s neck crack rang out as Faith looked expressionlessly at the demon’s massed comrades. "Leave, now." The Bostonian transplant released her grip on the demon leader’s neck, his corpse slapping into the wet tarmac a half-second later.

There was an immediate stampede away. "Well thank goodness," Wesley got up and placed a hand on Faith’s shoulder. "Thank-." Wes gasped as Faith drove her elbow into his chest, the force of the blow flinging him into Gunn.

And then Faith was gone, racing into the night.

* * *

"Oh good lord," Giles barely breathed as he started through Sunnydale, eyes widening at the widespread devastation.

"Perhaps we should leave this to-." Lorne gulped as both he and Xander glared at him. "Of course, this is rather urgent."

"Oh god." A few seconds later Xander stopped dead and looked up, up at that hateful tower the light of his life had dived off. "Look, up there."

Giles’ eyes widened as he looked up. Despite his worries his heart lifted slightly. "Faith."

* * *

Down below everything was so small, so normal. Didn’t they know what had happened tonight?

"Faith?"

Faith turned slowly, seeing a familiar yet unrecognisable figure stood at the far end of the walkway.

"Is it you? I mean really?" Xander smiled tentatively and started forward. "What are you do- " The tower shuddered underfoot, Xander grabbing for the pole beside him for support. Faith turned back to the end. "Don’t you dare! I’m not watching you jump again! Just walk over here! Please!"

Faith continued to stare down at the welcoming ground. It had been so peaceful.

"We were up here together, and then you went away. And you don't wanna do that again. I don't know how you're back, but you are, and please, just come here." There was a pause. "Me and you, we’re like a jigsaw, we just fit together. I’m nothing without you, Faith. Please." Again there was nothing but silence. "Just talk to me!"

Faith didn’t look towards him, but at least she spoke. "Is this hell?"

"No! Faith, no! You're here with me. Whatever happened to you, whatever you've been through, it's over now. You're-." The tower shook. "Look! We have to get off this tower!"

Faith continued to look down. "It was so clear on this spot. I remember how shiny and clear everything was." She shook her head. "But now..."

"Faith ... please ... listen to me." Faith just closed her eyes against Xander’s voice. "Forget the world, forget Sunnydale. Me, your friends, your family we need you." Suddenly the tower shook again. "Faith! We have to get down!"

Faith spun around, leapt towards Xander, hooking her arm around his waist as she threw herself and him from the walkway, hand reaching and grabbing for a pulley. The moment she had the rope in hand, their weight had the swinging down, wind whistling around them as the counterweight swung up. And then they hit some cardboard, seeing the tower rocking above them, she grabbed Xander and pulled him clear as debris began to fall.

And then Giles rushed up and grabbed her. "You….you're really here." She thought her ribs would crack under the Watcher’s fierce hug. "You're alive, and you're home. You're home. "

"Lothos, Moloch, The Master, The Judge, the Order of Taraka, Angelus, Kaktosis, the Sisterhood of Jhe, the Mayor, the Varhall Order, ADAM, the Scourge, Bolit Smyert, Glory, and now death itself! What does it take to end Faith Giles?" Holland Manners glared around the hushed boardroom. "This Slayer is becoming an embarrassment to this Division! Forget any other projects, her elimination is our priority!" Before anyone could speak, he continued. "Our only priority."

* * *

Cordelia looked around as she entered the deserted foyer. Her heart dropped when she failed to see any sight of her best friend. She’d already been around to Faith’s home but hadn’t gotten any response at the front door. She stopped when Giles stepped out from the inner office. "How’s Faith today?" Cordelia swallowed when Giles’ cold eyes fell on her. "Is she any better?"

"Oh I’m sorry Cordelia," the Watcher’s growl was a edgy, dangerous side of the Englishman that if it had been aimed at anyone else she would have considered sexy. However as it was directed at her it was closer to frightening. "Being dragged back to life has taken quite a toll on Faith, but I’ll be sure to tell her to pull herself together, her best friend’s impatient to take her shoe shopping!"

"Hey!" Cordelia snapped, her temper over-riding her good sense. "We were trying to help!"

"Oh bloody well done!" the Englishman sarcastically retorted.

"Now, now," Cordelia was more grateful than she’d care to admit when Wesley interjected himself between the two of them. "Cordelia and the others’ actions may have been fool-hardly," she bristled inwardly at that but kept her mouth shut, "but they only wanted the -."

"To selfishly bring Faith back after she’d sacrificed her life for us all!" Giles snapped. "You can’t even -."

"Is Faith about-."

Giles’ eyes shot to the interloper, eyes like knives as he impaled the red-headed witch. "Willow," Giles turned to the inner office and opened the door. "inside, please."

* * *

"Hey Giles." Giles stared at the witch. She was so powerful, yet so inexperienced. And that inexperience bred arrogance and recklessness. The red-head stared at him. "Have you had a good talk with Faith?"

"She’s uncommunicative at the moment," Giles evaded. "Perhaps a little shocked by her journey back from the dead."

"Isn’t it awesome!" Willow clapped.

"Astonishing," Giles couldn’t believe how unthinking the supposedly intelligent witch was. "Astonishing how blithe you are about such idiocy."

The witch’s mouth dropped slightly. "What? Giles..."

Giles shook his head. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The forces you've harnessed, the lines you've crossed?"

"I thought you'd be ... impressed, or, or something," Willow tried to defend.

"Impressed?" Giles’ laugh had little humour in it. "Oh you’ve impressed me. Of everyone here I thought you’d be the one I could rely on to respect the forces of nature."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" Willow challenged.

"You silly silly girl," Giles shook his head. "Think what you've done to Faith."

"I brought her back!" Willow argued.

"At what risk?" Giles demanded.

"What risk?" the witch half-laughed. "Making her deader?"

"Oh I don’t know," Giles shook his head. "Bringing her back possessed, a zombie, insane. Of killing us all. Unleashing hell on Earth, I mean, shall I go on?"

"No." It was Willow’s turn to shake her head. "I did what I had to do. I did what nobody else could do."

"Don’t be so sure," Giles chuckled. "There’s others in this world who can do what you did. You just don't want to meet them."

Willow’s eyes dropped. "No, probably not, but they're the bad guys. I'm not bad. I got Faith back, and maybe the word you should be looking for is congratulations."

"They’re not the bad guys, not all of them. Some of them have the power but also the wisdom not to use it." Giles paused, fixing the witch with a glare. "Having Faith back in the world makes me feel indescribably wonderful, but I wouldn't congratulate you if you jumped off a cliff and happened to survive."

Willow sniffed. "That's not what I did at all."

Giles snapped. "Your unbelievable arrogance is matched only by your luck."

"I wasn't lucky. I was amazing. And how would you know? You weren't even there."

"If you were so sure, so confident you were doing the right thing you’d have told me, instead you hid it like a naughty school-girl." Giles shook his head. "The magicks you channelled are more ferocious and primal than anything you can hope to understand, and you are lucky to be alive, you rank, arrogant amateur!"

Giles turned to leave. "You're right." He paused and looked back at the red-faced witch. "The magicks I used are very powerful. I'm very powerful. And maybe it's not such a good idea for you to piss me off." Giles stared at the witch, unable to believe what he was hearing. Finally Willow looked away. "Come on, Giles, I-I don't want to fight. Let's not, okay? I'll think about what you said, and you try to be happy Faith's back."

"You have no idea," Giles shook his head and sighed. "We’ve no idea where she was, or what happened to her, or even how the journey back might have changed her. And I'm far from convinced she's come out of all this undamaged. " Willow’s eyes widened, her mouth opening.

"Giles," Cordelia perked her head in through the door. "Clients."

* * *

"This is Francine Sharp and her daughter Stephanie." Cordelia shot her employer a cautious look as she introduced the clients. What she’d overheard had shocked her, not only Willow’s arrogance, but the chance long-term damage might have been done to Faith, an option she hadn’t even considered in her eagerness to have her best friend returned to them.

"They appear to have a problem," Wesley gently stroked the back of Stephanie’s hair aside, revealing a third eye.

Francine sniffed. "Something grabbed her on the way home from swim practice and bit her.  When she woke up this morning that was there."

Giles crouched in front of the little girl. "Did you see who or what did this to you?"

Stephanie looked towards her mom. After a second Francine spoke. "It was dark.  She doesn't remember much.  She's been in a state of shock since it happened. - I'll pay you whatever it takes.  Can you make it go away?"

Cordelia’s heart leapt at those glad words. The two Englishmen exchanged looks. "Yes, absolutely," Wesley nodded.  "Consider us already on the job."

"Who would do this?" Francine tearfully queried.

Giles’ answering smile looked a little forced. "We're going to find out, but it - it'll take a little time.  You'd be surprised how many nasty things are on the streets these days."

"Thank you, thank you," Francine led her child out.

"I think some research is called for," Giles looked around.

"I could help," Willow offered tremulously from the doorway of the office.

"Thank you, no." Giles’ face stiffened at the witch’s voice. "I’m sure you’ve got some school work to be getting on with." Giles looked towards Wesley. "Where do you suggest we start?"

* * *

Giles smiled as he checked the back of Stephanie’s head. It had taken him and Wesley a while to research a cure, a few hours longer to track down the cure’s ingredients and create them, but there it was, success. If only all problems were so easy to solve. "There’s no sign the eye was ever there."

"When she goes back to school the other kids will never even notice that there was a third eye growing back there." Cordelia patted Stephanie’s head. "The hair will grow back before you know it."

Wesley’s smile was a little more genuine than his as his fellow Watcher looked towards Stephanie’s mother. "The curative charm seems to have worked - like a charm, really."

Francine looked uncomfortable. Well, Wes’ attempts at humour often left him feeling queasy.  "We can't thank you."

Wesley waved the woman away. "Oh, don't give it another thought."

"It's what we do," Cordelia added. "Kind of a mission."

Francine shook her head.  "No, I mean, we *can't* thank you - and we can't pay you either. This bill is ridiculous."

Giles’ eyes narrowed. "What is ridiculous," he grated through gritted teeth, "is thinking you welsh on your bill."

Francine flinched at his tone.  "My husband says it's outrageous."

"Does he?" Giles’ soft chuckle was one quarter humour and three quarters menace. "And just what would your husband consider to be a fair price for the removal of the third eye from the back of your child's head, Mrs. Sharp?"

Francine backed away from him, hand wrapped around her daughter’s hand.  "Well - nothing. Steve says that since it's impossible to be bitten by a demon and have a third eye grow in the back of one's head, that obviously you people are running some sort of scam, and you won't squeeze one red cent out of us. Come on, Stephanie."

"Scam?" he growled. "The back of your daughter’s head was blinking!"

Suddenly Wesley had hold of his arm. "No, let her go." Giles shot his fellow Watcher a furious glare. "Rupert," his fellow Englishman’s tone was mild, "do you really want to scare the child?"

Giles stopped, a heat rising in his cheeks. Was this what he was reduced to? Taking his anger out on women and children? Finally he grunted and shook his head. "I’ll be in my office."

* * *

Cordy sighed as she rose, her stomach churning from a tense day spent avoiding an increasingly grumpy Giles. She had half a mind to go upstairs and see Xander, but her best friend’s boy-friend hadn’t been the easiest person to be around these last few weeks, and she didn’t want to get involved in that drama-.

She looked towards the phone and groaned as it began to ring. "Forget it, let the machine get it," she muttered as the automated message started.

"Hello," a woman’s uncertain voice crackled through the machine, "it’s Mrs. Sharp."

"Oh," Cordelia picked it up. "Hello, Watcher Securities?"

"I was hoping you were still in the office," the woman continued.

Cordelia groaned. "The back of your daughter's head is still okay, right?  Because, it's not like we offer a money back guarantee.  But then, you never paid us, did you?"

"I…I talked to my husband, he agrees it’s wrong not to pay you, if you could come over-."

"Right now?" Cordelia glanced at her watch, she did so want to go home, but on the other hand. "No, that's great!  Uhm, will you give me the address again?"

"Of course."

Cordelia nodded as she wrote down the address. "Uh-huh - okay.  Great, I'll see you soon."

* * *

Cordelia’s eyes widened as she approached the shrouded in darkness house, noting the ajar door. "Wow, vampires really do keep street crime down," she muttered before peeking through the door. "Hello?  Mrs. Sharp?" she entered the hallway, skin crawling at the darkness. "Anybody home?  Cordelia Chase here.  - Uhm, I hope you haven't gone to bed already. Took me a little longer to get here than I expected. Hope that doesn't mean you changed your mind about paying your bill, which I just happened to bring along with me. Hello?" She stepped through the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Oh that’s not good," she started to back out, eyes fixed on the corpses littering the linoed floor. Spinning around, she started to the front door only to be confronted by a Skilosh. Grabbing the hallway phone table, she flung it in the demon’s path and turned to flee, only to be grabbed by another demon charging out of the kitchen. "Looks like greed really is a deadly sin!" she shouted as a hand smashed into her jaw.

* * *

"M…my head," Cordelia groaned as she awoke, her back resting against the kitchen counter. Biting back a groan she rolled onto all fours.

"Human." Cordy yelped at the Skilosh’s voice and looked up. "Destroyer of our Spawn."

"Destroyer of your..." Cordy gulped, where was Faith or Gunn, or Groo, or even Xander when you needed some muscle? "I don’t think we’ve been introduced?"

The Skilosh’s face was like chalky stone. "The others.  You will make them come to us."

Cordy gulped.  "Huh?  What others?"

The Skilosh continued to stare impassively at her.  "Three are responsible. Three must pay."

Cordy forced a smile.  "Look, I think you must have me confused with someone else. I haven't destroyed anyone's spawn. Promise."

Two more Skilosh strode in and spoke to the other demon. Cordy gasped when the first turned away from her, revealing his rear eye. Cordy’s mouth dropped open. " Hey! You've got a third eye in the back of your head just like that little girl did -before - we - destroyed your spawn." Cordy threw her hands up as she realised what she’d said. "Aw crap!"

* * *

Kate’s head was so filled with worries of work and still struggling to come to turn with the resurrection of Faith, hadn’t Giles’ face been a picture, that she didn’t notice Wesley’s slightly ajar door until she was just a few steps from it. Heart thumping, she drew her automatic and looked around before stepping towards the door and wriggling through the gap. "Wesley," she whispered. When she didn’t get any reply, she continued creeping through the creepily silent hallway.

"Oh hell." She came to a stop at the hallway, stomach hollowing at the overturned couch, the shattered weapons cabinet, and blood sprayed on the walls.

* * *

Hands stuffed in her pockets and shoulders slouched over, Faith walked through Sunnydale’s darkening streets, uncaring if she got attacked or not. Maybe the danger would make her feel something, anything, to fill the hollow void inside. She felt like an egg that had had all the goodness scooped out, leaving nothing behind the shell.

All she wanted to do was crawl in a ball and sob, but the moment he’d gotten home G had started to fuss around her, so she’d bailed, gone to places she vaguely remembered from before, hoping to spark something, but nothing had ignited a flame. The coldness inside her persisted.

Her eyes narrowed as her ears picked up the muffled sound of fighting from inside G’s house. A leap took her over the neatly trimmed hedge and then she was charging towards the house, a single kick flinging the door open.

She’d barely taken two steps into the house when a chalky-faced demon with red stripes running down its face stepped out of the lounge and into the hallway. The demon took a step towards her.

"Don’t think so." Faith leapt into the air, her right heel smashing into the demon’s chest with enough force to send the demon flying back through back into the lounge, bounce off the wall, and crash motionlessly to the ground.

A snarl parting her lips, Faith started through the hallway, her elbow shooting up to crash into the jaw of the demon who leapt at her as she stepped through the doorway. The demon’s head snapped back, reeling under the ferocity of her attack, its head bouncing off the wall as she caught it with a spinning back-hand while ducking under its wild flails. Faith stepped into the demon, grabbing it around the throat, and lifting it off the ground before driving it through the room’s glass coffee table.

"Oh bloody hell," Giles looked away from kicking the shit out of the third demon. "Couldn’t you have dumped him somewhere else?"

Faith shot her adoptive-father a scorching look. "Ya want I come back in ten minutes when they’ve finished dancing on your head?"

Giles chuckled. "At least I got a reaction for once, thank you for your help." The Watcher sighed as he glanced at the demon. "These are Skilosh demons, we stopped one from infecting a little girl. If they attacked me," Giles grimaced, "it’s likely they attacked either or both Cordy and Wesley. We should get to the office immediately and call both of them to warn them of the danger!"

"Sure." Faith nodded, grimacing inwardly as she realised something. For a second she’d felt something, excitement, adrenalin, whatever, but now it was gone, leaving only an empty shell behind.

* * *

"So I’m guessing look behind you, not gonna work?" Cordy groaned when the door swung open and a battered looking Wesley was dragged in by two equally battered-looking demons. "Wes, are you-."

"Alright?" the Watcher shot her a world-weary look that seemed to be his speciality these days. "Hardly. I’m guessing that Giles will be joining our little party at some poi-." One of the Skiloshs growled. "Oh dear," Wesley grinned. "It seems Giles has," the Watcher doubled up as one of the demons punched him in the stomach, "oooh," he straightened, paling as he noticed something. "Oh hell, Cordelia."

"What, what?" she asked, panicked by the tone in the Watcher’s voice.

"You’re not facing me, but you can see me."

Cordy gulped as a chill hand grabbed her guts and twisted. "You mean-."

"They’ve given you a third eye."

* * *

Faith crashed through the door a half-second before her father. "I’ll try -." Giles was cut-off by his phone ringing. "Ah bloody hell!" The Watcher yanked his phone out, eyes widening as he recognised the number. "Ah Kate, Wes has been kidnapped, yes that is unfortunately not unexpected, Faith just foiled an attempt to do the same to me. Don’t worry, we know who and why this happened. Could you get Cordelia and meet us at the -."

"Too late," Faith looked towards her Watcher. "I played the answering machine. Last message was from those people whose daughter you helped. They wanted to pay."

"Oh bloody hell," Giles groaned. "Kate, forget about Cordelia, come straight here."

"Ya figure it ain’t likely for someone to change their mind about not paying?" Faith asked.

"It’s unlikely," Giles pursed his lips. "Ring the others, I’ll go and wake Xander."

Faith’s brow furrowed. "Ya sure-." Her voice trailed off as her Watcher started for the stairs. "Whatever."

* * *

Although he loathed Faith’s general apathy since her return, Giles was for once grateful that she didn’t indulge her usual argumentative nature as he strode up the boarding-house’s carpeted steps. It wouldn’t have done for her to discover Xander’s state, she had her own problems to deal with.

Opening the young man’s door, he strode inside, nose wrinkling at the mingling stench of rotting food, sweat, and even more worryingly booze. Conquering his own disdain, he started across the floor, carefully stepping over the discarded take-out and crushed beer cans. "Get yourself together," Giles warned as he strode towards the snoring youth sprawled across the bed and roughly shook his shoulder. "We’ve got trouble."

"Trouble?" the boy burped and looked up at him, eyes bleary. Xander let out a hoarse laugh. "What trouble? Faith’s back, everything’s peachy keen." The boy burped again.

"Wesley and Cordelia have been kidnapped." Giles fought back irritation by reminding himself just how damaged Xander had been by Faith’s death. "Get a shower and dress," Giles looked around the devastated room. "Assuming you have something clean to dress in. But hurry, we’ll be leaving when Kate and the others get here."

* * *

"Ah, you’re here," Giles greeted Xander as he shambled into the boarding-house foyer. Faith briefly wondered about the bleariness in Xander’s eyes but figured he probably wasn’t sleeping that well either. "As you can see the others are already here," Faith registered the starch in her Watcher’s voice. "Now, we’ll set off for the Sharpe place."

"The what now?" Xander interrupted.

Giles shot the youth an increasingly irritated look. "You’d know if you were here for the briefing, Kate will explain in the car. Gunn, Faith, you’re with me, Groo, Tara, and Willow, go with Xander and Kate. You know the plan."

* * *

Cordelia gasped as the kitchen’s rear door crashed open, a brunette whirlwind charging in. The demon nearest the entrance had the misfortune to step into the Slayer’s path, a kick seeming to cave his chest in, in addition to flinging him out of the back window. Another demon lunged at the Slayer only for her to bend forward and flip the demon over her back and out of the still open doorway.

And then the others swarmed in, Groo, Giles, and Gunn joined Faith in full dogs of war mode on the demons’ asses as Xander and Kate blocked them off while Tara and Willow went to work removing the eyes that both she and Wesley now had at the back of their heads. Cordelia gasped as she felt the eye go, things were going to be alright.

* * *

"Your work has been exceptional." He smiled at the praise. These reviews were always a draining affair, one never knew if they were gonna be terminated or promoted. Especially when you had a hidden goal such as his, one that would be certainly considered detrimental to the firm’s own objectives. And in this company if you were terminated, you were really terminated. "To that end, I’d like to offer you the deputy director of our Research & Department Division."

Knox smiled as he offered the head of Personnel his hand. "I’d be honoured sir."

A/N: The changes in canon here aren’t by error but by design.

"Ah," Lindsey smiled as he entered the boarding house turned detective agency, "this is the axis of good? You know I’d think it would shine more."

"Giles! Wesley!" Ms. Chase screamed from her position behind the reception desk. "We have a rodent infection!"

The two Watchers burst out of the inner office. "Ah, Mr. MacDonald," the older of the two Watchers shot him a steely glare that had him inwardly looking for a hole to crawl into, "how about you leave now before I introduce my boot to your arse?"

Lindsey managed to keep his smile. "I’m afraid I’m here on official business," he opened his briefcase; "my firm did an extensive survey of your building and found it lacking in a number of areas."

"Building violations?" the younger Watcher snorted as he glanced at the sheaf of documents Lindsey placed on the reception desk. "Is this the best you can do?"

"Oh this is just a starter," he smiled at the curvy brunette sat in the centre of the foyer, "it’s a pleasure to see you again, back from the dead no less. And looking as beautiful as ever. Rest assured, our firm retains an interest in you."

The normally high-spirited Slayer didn’t even look up at his comment; however Giles stepped between him and the coal-eyed Bostonian. "You’ve delivered your papers, now get out. Or," the Watcher smiled coldly, "you can wait until your ambulance picks you up."

"Intimidation?" Lindsey forced himself to keep the Englishman’s gaze. "I see a writ in your future."

"I see pain in yours," Wesley commented. "And no witnesses to your attack. Leave."

* * *

The Fish Tank was rocking by the time Faith reached it, seventies rock music shaking the walls. The dimly-lit bar’s biker occupants glanced up approvingly at her entry, but then why wouldn’t they? She was new meat dressed in almost too-tight to breathe leather pants and a tiny, lace-fringed black midriff top. "Let the stampede begin."

She’d blown off the others after patrol, sick of their stifling concern. She just wanted to be anonymous, with people who didn’t know about their resurrection, and to drown herself in a sea of alcohol.

Three hours later she was knocking back her seventh shot of Wild Turkey, flanked by two young studs both about twice her size, their eyes never shifting from her. "You’re a hell of a mover babe," one of them commented.

"Yeah Faye," the other man commented, his beery breath on the back of her neck, and his beefy arm around her waist, "and you know they say the best dancers make the best screws."

Forget her name, typical man. Faith threw her head back and laughed, the sound drowned out by the booming rock music. "I am the bomb-." Her head snapped to the side as she noticed a haughty-looking blonde dragging a burly biker out of the front door. "Ah fuck, gotta go."

She started to rise only for the guy with his arm around her waist to tighten his grip. "Hey girl, you ain’t going anywhere."

"Ain’t I?" Faith drove the back of her head into the man’s face. The moment the shocked man’s grip loosened, Faith leapt up, ducking under the other man’s haymaker en-route to driving a left hook into his gut before crashing a foot into the man’s instep. Even as the screaming man fell away, Faith spun into a backhand that cannoned off the left cheek of the man behind her. "You bought me drinks," Faith snarled, the last of her forced good mood dissipating, "you didn’t buy me."

The bar cleared a path for her as she strode through the dank-aired bar. The air outside was refreshingly cool, but made her head reel after all the booze she’d drunk. Shaking her head clear, Faith looked around, searching for the nearest alley. The moment she saw it, she hurried into it, drawing the stake as she did so.

Guilt tightened her chest as she entered the alley just in time to see a blonde dropping a limp corpse to the ground. If not for the mother-fuckin’ bastards in the bar, she might have saved the man.

"What are you?" the blonde vampire turned to her with a hiss, yellow eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Death." Faith leapt forward. "Shit!" Faith groaned as her clumsier than normal feet slipped on the cobbles.

The vampire laughed as she leapt towards her. Faith twisted away from the attacker. "Fuck!" she grunted as the demon caught her with a heel to the side. Vomit rose in her mouth, burning the back of her throat as it spewed out to splatter the ground.

Faith stumbled towards the wall, pain erupting in her back when the demon kicked her there. "Death?" the demon grabbed her mane and yanked her head back. "Maybe yours?"

"No!" Faith placed her palms on the wall in front of her and pushed. The two of them fell back, crashing to the ground. The two of them rolled in the ground and through Faith’s puke, ending with the vampire on top, her hands wrapped around Faith’s throat. Faith began to see black dots in her eyes as she drove a knee up into her opponent’s groin.

The vampire gasped as she released her grip and fell off her. The demon used the wall to climb up to her feet and attempted a kick to Faith’s head that she blocked with one forearm while grabbing her attacker’s ankle with her other hand and twisting.

"Ahhhh!" The demon gasped as she fell back to the ground again before scrambling back up and running off.

"Shit." Faith moaned as she crawled back to her feet, body aching and head ringing, uncomfortably conscious of a tear in the left leg of her pants and the dirt and puke covering her. What a fuckin’ night.

* * *

Sunday gasped as she ran through the town’s darkened streets. The girl had been very strong and durable, a little clumsy but still a formidable warrior. Perhaps she was the mythical Slayer.

Sunday stopped as she sensed something, two older vampires, much older vampires. She looked around and gasped when a pair of hand-holding vampires stepped out of the shadows. "Hello child," purred the female of the duo. "I don’t suppose you could direct us to somewhere we could get a meal?"

Sunday smiled slowly. If there was a Slayer, these two much more powerful demons could offer protection. "Yes," she bowed her head respectfully. "I’m sure I can find us a college party."

* * *

"Eight Massacred In Party," Giles dropped the paper on the table between them. "According to this report, three ‘people’ stormed an open house and butchered eight people, and hospitalised five more. It appears we have a new and very serious group of vampires in town."

Faith stared idly at the paper. "Any idea who?"

"Perhaps Angelus has returned. Or Giles de Rais, Elizabeth Bathory, or Dracula have arrived in town," Giles shook his head. "Without even a general description we’re only guessing."

"We’ll have to patrol," Wesley said. "We’ll have to get everyone together."

"’Kay," Faith shrugged. Even the prospect of a far from run-of-the-mill patrol failed to get her excited. "I’ll go work out in the gym, sharpen up."

* * *

"A good idea," Giles nodded as his charge stalked into the detective agency’s basement gym, heart tightening with pain.

"I see Faith’s mood hasn’t improved?"

"No," he shook his head at Wesley’s query. His sweet child had been so full of life. Now she sleep-walked through life a valium-addict. "She’s just going through the motions."

"Ah," the worry he felt was reflected in the lines etched on Wesley’s face. "I don’t suppose she and Xander have been intimate since her return?" The younger Watcher reddened at his look. "I meant have they talked? Talked properly?"

"Talked?" Giles shook his head, expression disgusted. "That boy can’t stay sober long enough to finish a sentence."

"Perhaps Faith could be the one to-."

"No," he interrupted his junior with another head shake. "Faith’s burden is enough. I’ll not add to it with that boy’s weaknesses."

"And if Xander’s drinking causes him to get hurt or killed on patrol what then?" Wesley demanded.

"Faith has enough on her plate," Giles replied.

"You’re wrong, Rupert, wrong," Wesley shook his head.

* * *

Faith’s eyes shot left and right as she led her companions through the hushed graveyard, hairs prickling uneasily. Suddenly an arrow erupted out from behind a granite-grey crypt. "Owwww!" Cordelia sunk to the ground, an arrow jutting from her forearm.

"Son of a bitch!" growled Faith as half a dozen hunters burst out of the shadows, surrounding them, led by a hard-faced red-head. "What the fuck ya’re playin’ at?"

"’Cease fire," the red-head seemed remarkably unconcerned with the damage she’d done. "Question is what are you doing, walking through a graveyard this late at night?"

Faith smiled sweetly. And then covered the space between her and the red-head in a blur, grabbing her by the throat and bending her back over a rounded gravestone. "No, the question is, who the hell are ya and what the hell are ya doin’ in MY city?" The red-head grabbed her arm and tried to pull it off, but Faith’s arm didn’t shift an inch, instead she squeezed harder. "And," her smile sweetened, "if yar buds don’t back the fuck off, I’ll snap yar neck like a twig."

The gurgling red-head waved her companions back. "Faith," Giles spoke from behind her, her father’s voice concerned, "you’re choking her."

"Yeah, and Cordy’s got an arrow in her ‘cause of this stupid bitch’s amateur hour," Faith stared down impassively at the struggling woman, realising how easy it would be to end the woman’s misery, to send her to a better place. Just a little squeeze and she’d snap the bitch’s neck. "Ya wanna talk?"

"Two vampires tore through my crew," the woman wheezed. "Two days ago. Killed four of them when we tried an ambush. We tracked them here."

"Here? And their names?" Wesley cut in.

"They didn’t," the woman gulped a breath, "leave their cards."

"Funny," Faith punched the woman in the gut, not hard enough to break anything but hard enough to make her notice, "give us a description."

"One of them was a medium-height blonde with shoulder-length hair and blue eyes, and the man was skinny with thick brown hair that was gelled up and cold blue eyes, real fine cheekbones."

"Got what ya need Wes?" Faith queried.

"Sufficient," the Watcher replied.

"Right," Faith yanked the red-head up and shook her like a rag-doll, "what’s your name?"

The wanna-be hunter glared at her. "Justine, Justine Cooper."

"Well Jussy, no one comes to my town and starts shooting it up," Faith grinned mercilessly at the bitch. "Ya’ve two choices. Get out of town now and keep your ass intact. Or stay and next time we meet, I’ll beat your ass around town." Faith dropped the red-head on the ground. "See ya. Or not."

* * *

Giles shot his child a worried glance. In addition to her general apathy, there was a coldness to her that was at odds with her previous warm vibrancy. "Don’t you think you were a little harsh on that woman, she is after all on the same side?" he commented as he fell in beside the Slayer.

Faith shot him a scorned look. "Why don’t ya ask Cor if I was harsh?" Giles gulped at the very thought. Cordelia could be testy at the best of times, but now? Faith looked towards Cor. "Gunn, ya and Groo take Cordelia to the hospital, the rest of us will head to the boarding house for research."

"Yes!" the African-American punched the air.

"Hey!" Cordelia snapped. "You’re happy I’m injured?"

"Not at all dear," the black paled. "Just happy to be out of research."

"Glad to be of service," the cheerleader snapped again.

"Oh boy," Gunn groaned.

* * *

The moment they re-entered the offices, Willow hurried over to the computer and turned it on, seconds later she was busy inputting the duo’s descriptions into a program she’d designed over a month ago but hadn’t had chance to use. "I’ve entered the duo’s description into the computer to see if there’s anything in the records of notable vampires matching the description," Willow announced eagerly, anxious to get back into Giles’ good books.

Giles nodded. "While you work that infernal contraption we’ll look through the Council’s books on vampires to see if there was -."

"Oooooh!" She interrupted with an excited squeal as the results flashed up. "There’s been six vampires matching the male’s description and four matching the woman’s, but only one couple."

"Oh well done," Xander slammed a book resoundingly shut. "No need to research then."

Giles glared at the young man, probably because of his treatment of Giles’ treasured tomes, before looking towards her. "And the duo are?"

Willow peered at the screen. "Um, a James & Elizabeth York."

"Oh goodness gracious," Wesley slumped into a chair, his expression troubled.

"Ya know who they are, Wes?" Faith asked.

"Yes," the younger Watcher nodded. "In my last year at the Academy, I helped with a research project documenting ‘Renowned But Lesser Vampires Of Europe’."

"I just bet ya got yar head flushed down the toilet every day at school," Faith drawled.

Wesley flushed at the Slayer’s taunt before sniffing. "Do you me want to continue or not?"

Faith shrugged. "Whatever."

"James and Elizabeth were a brother and sister turned by an unknown vampire in 1727. Owing to their demonic possession, their sibling relationship turned incestuous-."

"Ugh, gross!" Willow commented.

Wesley shot her an irritated look at before continuing. "They were largely considered inseparable, and only the couples of Angelus and Darla, and Drusilla and Spike were considered more dangerous. In 1825 they killed a Slayer in Antwerp, Belgium. You’d best describe them as a pair of thrill-seeking teens, not caring who they hurt or offend, human, demon, or mage, as long as they get a laugh out of it. In addition to the murder of the Slayer, they’re rumoured to have been the slayers of a renowned vampire hunter Daniel Holtz and his family in 1755 and the massacre of a Vatican hunting team around 1800 and another in the 1920s."

"Whoa," Willow shuddered, "their demons got the money’s worth when it chose those two."

"I wanna know about the third one," Faith leaned forward, eyes fixed on the Watcher.

"Um, that is a puzzle," Wesley admitted. "There’s no significant records of them consistently working with another vampire or even siring one."

"I noticed Ms. Cooper didn’t mention a third vampire," Giles put in. "Perhaps she’s simply a local that the pair have picked up as a guide."

"It would be prudent for a warrior to use someone familiar with the surroundings in a new town, especially one with such formidable guardians," Groo commented.

"Yeah," Faith pursed her full lips together and looked out of the window. "It won’t be long ‘til dawn, might as well wait to see if anything comes up in the paper."

"Faith!" Wesley let out a shocked cry. "These demons are killing people!"

Faith shot the Watcher a world-weary look. "Look at the sun, chances are the demons have already done what they’re gonna do. I figure we have a few hours sleep and then in the afternoon kick over a few stones, see what we can come up with."

Wesley’s mouth opened. "Faith’s plan does have an inexorable whiff of logic." Giles looked at his watch. "It’s gone four o’clock. How about those of us who don’t have work tomorrow meet back here at noon? That would be myself, Wesley, Faith, and Groo. The rest of you, meet us here at six tomorrow night. Of course, given Ms. Chase’s injury, I won’t expect either her or Gunn here "

* * *

"Another massacre at another college party." Wesley dropped the paper onto the reception area’s desk with an angry slap. "Another six people dead, and we could have stopped it!"

"How exactly?" Giles hissed. "The report says that the attack was at eleven o’clock last night. We didn’t have the colossal misfortune to bump into Ms. Cooper and her cohorts until after midnight."

"And who else might have the trio killed afterwards, while looking for somewhere to spend the day?" demanded Wesley, eyes angry. "You can’t continue to molly-coddle -."

"Talkin’ ‘bout me?" Wesley’s heart dropped as he heard the Slayer’s husky tones on the staircase behind him. "Didn’t know ya cared Wes."

Wesley forced himself to turn to face the brunette beauty. "I care very much, Faith," he evenly replied. "That’s why I worry when you behave with such uncharacteristic lethargy."

Faith ignored his words, choosing instead to stride past him and pick up the paper. "So they hit another college party, serious lack of imagination, but at least we know what to stake out tonight." The Slayer chuckled humourlessly. "Stake out, get it"

"People died, Faith!" he snapped, angered and bewildered by the previously so caring girl’s cold-heartedness.

"People die every day, Wes." The Slayer shrugged. "At least we got a pattern out of it."

Wesley opened his mouth only to reluctantly close it at a warning look from Giles. "When Groo gets here we’ll-."

"I’ve got Merl and Willy," the curvy brunette snatched up a sword and strode towards the door, "ya three take the rest."

"Faith!" Giles shout had the tone of desperation, but the Slayer ignored it in favour of sauntering hip-swingingly out of the boarding-house.

* * *

"Hiya Merl!" The demon started when a single kick sent the door to his sewer hideout flinging open. "Missed ya," Faith strutted into the demon’s lair, "while I was dead." Her eyes impaled the shaking demon. "I’d have called you earlier to catch up, but hey, I can’t stand ya." Faith crouched down before the bean-bagged demon, reached into her jeans pocket and threw half a dozen crumpled ten dollar bills onto the demon’s lap. "I wanna hear what ya know about new blood-suckers in town?"

"Your money’s no good," the demon tried to give her the money back.

"Oh no, Merl," Faith fixed the demon with her most shark-like smile. "You can take the money or not. But ya are givin’ me the information, hard way or easy. Your choice."

Merl gulped. "I know there’s two new vamps in town, running with a girl name of Sunday, a real ditz. She’s a college student who was turned in the early seventies, word is she likes to hang there, lives in the sewers underneath the gym."

"Five by five," Faith rose sinuously. "Thanks Merl, never a pleasure."

* * *

Sunday rose at the knock on her door and strode towards it, puzzled by who it could be. "Who is it?" she asked as she began to open the door.

And fell away when a foot crashed into the door, flinging her to the dusty ground. Her two guests began to rise. "Any one like take-out?" Sunday gasped as he recognised the sultry brunette from the bar. Before anyone had chance to react the dark-eyed stunner had sent two glass bottles with alcohol soaked rags stuffed in them rolling across the ground. "I like mine well-done." Sunday gasped again when the beauty produced a flare gun and sent a round into each of the bottles, the room erupting in flames. Sunday screamed as her clothes caught fire, wrapping her in unimaginable pain. "Guess ya’re different though."

* * *

"You took on two Master Vampires and their accomplice on your own?" Giles roared. "Do you have a bloody death-wish?"

Faith arched an eyebrow at his anger. "Tried being dead twice, didn’t take. Now are ya gonna get out of my room or what? Either way, I’ve got a crapload of sewer on me and I’m strippin’."

Defeated by his Slayer’s attitude, Giles spun on his heel and strode out.

* * *

"Mr. Manners," Holland looked up as Lindsey MacDonald entered his office, an insufferably smug look on his subordinate’s face, "the census on the hell dimensions has been finished.

"Oh yes?" Holland peered impatiently at his junior. If they had information on just which hell dimension the Slayer had been in, perhaps they could use the information in some manner either to corrupt her or force her return.

"It appears Faith wasn’t in hell at all. There’s the souls of sixteen Slayers spread across the fifty-seven planes, but this Slayer hasn’t been recorded in any of them. And you know how meticulous their record keeping is."

"Quite," Holland smiled slowly. "The little hellion made it all the way to heaven. But her companions believe her returned from hell?"

"We believe so," Lindsey confirmed.

"Oh I see potential here," Holland smiled. Now what was that name of that singing demon?

* * *

"Preacher, your words stirred me so!"

Caleb turned to see who had intruded into his inner sanctum, the tent deserted after the end of the preaching meeting. She was a willowy red-head with mocking green eyes that was dressed in unbecomingly tight denims and sluttishly low-cut t-shirt. "Did they child?" he smiled disarmingly as he strode towards the teen beauty. "And how did they stir you?"

"Why," the woman’s fingers brushed over his chest., "your words on sin."

"Yes." The girl gasped when he grabbed her around the throat and began to squeeze, her face instantly bluing. "A harlot like you would be interested in sin."

A/N: All the lyrics are my original work. I’m not claiming to be John Lennon. Or Ray Davies. Or John Fogerty. Maybe Vanilla Ice.

"Used to be only thing I liked better than Slaying.

Was getting heated with my guy and laying."

Faith kipped up as a vampire charged her and drove an elbow into its face, sending it reeling.

"My heart used to pound after careless dare.

But since rising I can’t find it in me to care."

Faith blocked a right on her forearm before stepping into her opponent and crashing a right into her adversary’s jaw, snapping its head back.

"It doesn’t matter what I do or see.

Nothing inspires any feeling in me."

Faith slammed her head back, crashing it into the face of a vampire creeping up behind her, following up with a reverse heel kick to the crotch, and spinning around to stake the stunned demon.

"I used to love having a vampire to stake.

But it seems the world just wants to take, take."

Another demon lunged at her but she caught it with a leaping knee to the face that knocked it on its back.

"Used to be I was strong and brave.

But that’s before I rose from the grave."

Faith dropped into a squat under a backhand before shooting out her hands to grab her adversary’s ankles and yank him from his feet. The demon let out a gasp as he crashed to the ground. In a second she was beside it, driving her stake into its heart.

"But now nothing seems to get me bothered."

The other vampire charged her. Faith blocked an attempted kick on her arm before driving her stake through the foot’s sneaker, pinning the screaming demon’s foot as she surged up and slammed her spare stake into the vampire’s heart.

"Although my friends get worried and bothered."

* * *

"Good morning, Faith!"

Faith nodded and bit her lip as she entered the boarding-house, noting the forced note in her father’s voice. "Hey," she quietly greeted.

"Are you alright, dear?" Giles peered over the top of his glasses at her.

"Five by five," Faith lied as she strode over to the table and peered into the box of donuts, taking a chocolate one. "So, uh, no research? Nothing going on? Monsters or whatnot?" Giles shook his head as he nibbled at a strawberry-iced donut. "Cool," Faith licked her lips. "Uh, so, did anybody uh last night, you know, did anybody, um ... burst into song?"

"Thank goodness!" Giles cheered.

The room erupted into half a dozen conversations. "I thought it was just me!" Willow shrilled.

"I sang, but I’d left my guitar in the bar," Giles mused.

Tara nodded. "It was bizarre. We were talking and then it was like."

"Like you were in a musical!" Wesley added.

"Yeah!" Tara agreed.

Giles shook his head. "That would explain the huge backing orchestra I couldn't see and the synchronized dancing from the waiters."

Willow giggled. "We did a whole duet about dish washing."

Cordy chuckled. "What exciting lives you leave."

Giles looked towards her. "What did you sing about?"

Faith was once again disconcerted by the concern in her father’s eyes. "I don't remember. But it seemed perfectly normal."

"But also disturbing," Xander commented. "And not the natural order of things, and do you think it'll happen again?"

Giles and Wesley exchanged concerned looks. "I don't know," Giles finally replied. "We should look into it."

Xander groaned. "With the books."

"Do we have any books on this?" Gunn queried.

Wesley pursed his lips together. "We have to look at the factors before it happens again. Because I for one- "

"Maybe it’s a demon!

A singing demon." Giles sang.

"Could it be, some kid is dreamin'

And we’re in a play of his makin’.

It’s a musical with babes and such.

But the singing’s a little much." Willow suggested.

"It's getting eerie, what's this cheery singing all about?" Wesley and Groo sang.

"It could be evil witches!

Some hook-nosed bitches!" Xander sang.

The moment Willow and Tara looked at him, Xander gulped.

"But of course, I remember Salem and the trials’ bonfire.

And all your reputations unfairly dragged through the mire."

"I think we need to work this out fast.

It clearly could get serious before it's passed." Giles stood.

"It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.

What obstacle will we face we can't weather?
We’ve faced everything. Death?   

Ha! Don’t make me laugh." Faith sang.

"There’s nothing our gang can’t face.

Not even hell-gods can keep our pace."

They sang the last two lines together until falling into an embarrassed silence. "Okay, that was disturbing," Gunn shook his head as he took his seat back.

Willow giggled. "I thought it was neat."

Faith shook her head. "So what is it? What's causing it?"

Giles fixed her with one of his searching looks. "I thought it didn’t matter."

Faith wrinkled her nose. "Well I ain’t shakin’ with terror, but there’s something unnatural goin’ on. And that’s rarely good."

"If only Lorne was here," mused Wesley.

"Yeah," Faith nodded, "that cat can sing."

The younger Watcher shot her a frustrated look. "No, I thought he might merely have an inside view into what’s affecting us."

"A good idea," Giles mused. "Get him on the phone. Try and get him back here as soon as possible."

Tara rose. "T…there’s some books back at our room."

Giles coughed. "Yes, I’m sure there are."

"Copies of the karma sutra maybe?" Faith cracked a half-smile at Tara and Red’s blush.

Willow smiled as they entered their room and she looked towards Tara.

"I know what we could do to get a clue.

Maybe we should try a spell for true."

Tara’s face fell.

"No, no, no, magic, magic.

Over use can be so tragic."

Willow pouted, hurt by her lover’s distress.

"First Giles daring to question me, now you Tara.

If magic makes things easier, why make them harder?"

Tara shook her head.

"It’s not wicca magic surely you see.

But use of the black arts that scares me."

Willow glared, hurt turning to anger.

"I don’t see why my research causes gloom.

My spells always help, never doom."

Tears brimmed in Tara’s eyes.

"The black arts will damage, whatever you gain.

You’ll lose in the heart, your soul forever stained."

Willow shook her head.

"Tara, listen, please don’t be so sour.

Bacon was right, knowledge is power."

* * *

Xander stared at the six-pack he’d just bought and placed it on his bed before sitting on the chair beside the bed, eyes fixed on the booze, the bedside lamp glinting off the cans.

"Used to be all I wanted was my girl.

Believe me, she’s a for real pearl.

Eyes like coal, silky mane, lips rosy red.

Me and her, we broke the odd bed."

Xander rubbed at his eyes. God, they felt so gritty, so hot. And yet he continued to sing.

"I had thoughts of making her my wife.

But then she had to die, saving my life.

There was nothing I could I do to stop the pain.

She saved my life, but next to hers, some gain."

"Three days later and we lowered her into the ground.

I didn’t want to be with people so I walked around.

Next thing I knew I was in a shithole bar.

Holding my booze in a glass not a jar.

When I awoke next morning, major headache.

But when I drunk, guess what, no heartache."

"After that morning, I swore never again.

But livin’ without her, such a strain.

The lure of the bottle was too much.

Tho’ even that didn’t compare to her touch."

Xander rubbed at his eyes.

"No life, no job, everything’s wrong, I’m going mad.

All my life I’ve never wanted to be like my dad.

But now of the bottle I’m always glad.

Oh yes, this is me happy, ecstatic, so glad."

Xander reached for the first of the beers.

* * *

"Hey Giles!" Xander hurried across the road as he saw Giles and Cordelia heading towards the office. "Giles, you've got to stop it."

Giles smiled weakly as his approach. "Wesley and I are looking into some leads, and -."

"Well my break-out blues\country is sure to be a crossover hit in all markets, but still," Xander shook his head as they passed a singing newspaper seller. "Work with me, British man. Give me an axe and show me where to point it."

Giles shrugged. "Well now, Xander, it's not quite that simple. But I have learned about some disturbing things. Basically some people burnt to death over-night."

Cordy shook her head. "As in burnt up? Somebody set people on fire? That's nuts!"

"I don't know." Xander shook his head. "One more verse of my little ditty and I would've been looking for a gas can."

Giles looked probingly at him, probably noting his unshaven chin and bloodshot eyes. "Well, clearly emotions are running high." Giles shook his head as they passed a car accident, the car’s owners singing their details to one another. "But as far as I can tell these people burnt up from the inside, spontaneously combusted. I've only seen the one. I was able to examine the body while the police were taking witness statements."

Xander glanced at the Watcher. "Okay, but we're sure that the things are related: the singing and dancing, and burning and dying."

Giles sighed. "We're not sure of much. Faith's looking for leads at the local demon haunts, at least in theory she is, but ... she doesn't seem to-."

Xander glanced down at the ground, ashamed of the distance between him and his ex-lover. "She's easing back into it. " Cordelia spoke up. "We pulled her out of an untold hell dimension. Ergo the weirdness. The important thing is to be there for her."

Giles shook his head. "I'm helping her as much as I can, but, uh... "

* * *

Giles entered the workout room smiling slightly as he watched his girl take out her frustrations on the swinging heavy bag. Whatever else Hell might have taken from her, she still had her fluidity of movement and awesome power. "Good to see you working out, dear."

Faith glanced away from the bag even as she continued pummelling the canvas bag, face and bare arms glistening, pony-tail bobbing. "I’m kinda worried this is gonna turn into some training montage from an 80s martial arts movie."

Giles chuckled, heart lightened by his girl’s paltry attempt at humour. "I assure you, Jean-Claude Van Dammne and Jackie Chan have nothing on you." Faith half-smiled
"Should we hear any inspirational power chords, we'll just lie down until they go away. Anyway, I don't think we need to work that much on your strength."

Faith’s smile disappeared. "Yeah, I'm pretty spry for a corpse." The sultry beauty leapt up into a handstand on the gym horse before leaping from it onto the rings.

"Have you and Xander spoken yet?"

Faith shrugged before launching herself into a somersault. "We ain’t connecting since, ya know," she replied after a back-flip.

"I know," Giles felt a tightness in his chest and emptiness in his belly. No-body would ever be good enough for his daughter, but the pre-Glory Xander had fiercely loved Faith and had been loyal, brave, and respectful.

"I know there’s more that I can teach.

But your heart’s closed, I’ll never reach.

All I ever wanted was to hold you in my arms.

And keep you from ever facing harm."

Faith dropped the ground and began doing crunches as he sang.

"I remember when you wouldn’t trust and share.

But through time and love you learnt to care.

You were so beautiful, strong, brave, and smart.

The pride you made me feel warmed my heart. "

The sultry beauty moved sinuously into hindu squats, sweat glistening on her face.

"Master vampires, demons, even the odd troll.

Whatever hell threw at us, you beat them all.

With all your wins, you truly were the Slayer beyond compare.

When you walked past, demons knew better than to stare."

Faith moved into impossibly graceful cartwheels.

"But then came the hell-goddess named glory.

And I feared your demise might be gory.

When you took your dive off the tower.

The rest of my life turned joyless and dour."

Faith began her end of workout stretches.

"Then Willow dragged you out of hell.

And hey, without a brimstone smell.

But our close father-daughter bond.

That I loved so much is gone, gone."

Faith rose and turned to him, a discomforted expression on her face. "G-, I, well-."

The Slayer hurriedly stepped back when the door opened. "I heard singing and hid for fear of corniness," Cordelia undiplomatically greeted. "But Lorne is here."

"Ah, splendid." Embarrassed beyond measure, Giles picked up his towel and hurried out.

"Well my favourite bear, isn’t your aura completely out of whack?"

Giles glared at the demon, his recent singing exploits leaving him no mood for any of the Armani-clad demon’s nicknames, especially those relating to bloody Rupert the Bear. "I trust Wesley has apprised you of the situation."

"Yes, yes, he has." Lorne’s expression sobered. "He actually sang it to me." Lorne shook his head. "Wesley’s no Screaming Lord Sutch let me tell you."

"Thank you for your critique," Giles snarked. "Most enlightening. Don’t you have anything that might help."

"Ooooo, bitchier than a Spice Girls’ reunion." Giles began to count to ten. Lorne nodded. "But yeah. I’ve got some information for you. I’ve heard stories of a demon called Sweet, apparently his mere presence can cause the inhabitants of an area he visits burst into song and dancing, usually revealling embarassing secrets or true hidden feelings."

"Ah," Giles looked towards Wesley. "Doesn’t ring a bell. You?" Wesley shook his head. Giles returned his eyes to the demon. "I don’t suppose you know where to find this demon?"

Lorne hesitated. "When Wesley sang he revealed the demon’s location," the red-horned demon glanced towards Faith, "but maybe we shouldn’t go until I’ve spoken to Faith."

"This Sweet is killing people, we haven’t time," Giles shook his head.

"Why don’t you listen?" Lorne sighed. "He’s in the Bronze."

Before he had time to issue orders, Faith was striding determinedly for the door. Giles shook his head. "Oh come on."

* * *

"Life seems so unimportant now.

Wish I could feel, only how?

I feel like I’m ice-cold inside.

But what do you expect, I died."

Faith glanced at her companions following behind before continuing.

"Big deal I’ve got my friends.

Don’t they get the pain never ends?

If I win this fight, they’ll always be another battle.

Slayers, they’re just another form of cattle."

Giles began to speak, but she just continued on.

"I suppose it’s time to save the day.

If not, another Slayer will come this way.
Really, what difference does one person make?

They’ll always be another monster or giant snake."

Faith added.

"How could I have failed to protect her?

First it was the evil Master’s lair.
Then came the fearsome hell-goddess.

She left my girl the deadest."

Giles sang.

"I’m sure I could fix it all with a spell.

But Tara would look at me like I smell.

When it comes to mastery of the arcane arts.

I don’t see the problem, I’ve got the smarts."

Willow added.

"She’s got a laugh like a siren’s call.

And together we had a real ball.

Her smile’s like a drug and skin’s like lace.

But to be honest I’d rather have a beer’s taste."

Xander sang as they reached the door of the Bronze. Faith looked around before kicking the door down.

"Ohhhh," the red-faced demon dressed in a purple power suit stood on the stage smiled. "I love a good entrance."

Faith laughed throatily. "Ya’re gonna hate what comes next. Me ripping your throat out."

"How visceral," Sweet chuckled. "I’m sure there’s more to you than violence, hidden depths, maybe."

Faith’s heart dropped, no she couldn’t.

"Life’s a play, a show.

Sometimes we learn and grow.

Some travel paths that no-one else can tread.

But we all end up in the ground and dead."   

Faith shook her head.

"Where there’s life there’s hope.

Whoever said that, what a dope."

"Life keeps kicking you down and down.

Never letting you get off the ground.

You try your hardest to make a place for yourself.

A father, friends, someone who makes you melt."

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried and failed to stop.

"Where there’s life there’s hope.

Whoever said that, what a dope."

"All the joy that life can send.

Here’s a prediction, it will end.

All my friends’ pleas and actions I ignore.

What comes afterwards is better than before."

"Where there’s life there’s hope.

Whoever said that, what a dope."

"Where I went there was no pain.

Just blissful days, every one the same.

But now it’s only misery as far as the eye can see.

After my friends decided heaven was too good for me."

Faith stared at her ashen-faced friends the moment the music ended. "Now that was a show-stopper," chuckled Sweet.

"Get out of here!" Willow hissed.

Sweet flinched. "Mm, I smell power. Guess I should be on my way."

Sweet spun around.

"I was contracted by Wolfram & Hart.

Your truth-singing to blow you apart."

The demon briefly tap-danced before continuing.

"You guys have been for real fun.

Guess your lives haven’t enough sun.

All the secrets you’ve kept hidden.

Now they’ve come out unbidden.

Try and say you’re happy now.

You’ll be lying and wow, how."

"I was contracted by Wolfram & Hart.

Your truth-singing to blow you apart."

The singing demon exploded in sparkles and light.

"I’m happy now, but for you things aren’t swell.

And in finishing, I promise, I’ll see you all in hell."

"Faith! Please!" Giles knocked, no banged, on his daughter’s bedroom door. "We need to talk!"

"No! We don’t! Leave me alone!"

Giles stared at the door, tears brimming in his eyes. Today’s revelation had shaken him to the very core. Faith, wrenched out of heaven. He raised his hand to knock again only for his hand to fall uselessly by his side. He recognised this version of Faith as very close to the distrustful, wounded girl he’d adopted years ago, the wary teen whose every response to attempted intimacy had been either fight or flight. Except now her powers complicated things, ensuring she needed even more careful treatment than before. "Well if you want to talk," he bit his lip, pain tightening his chest, throat dry, "you know where I am."

* * *

"Do you think Faith’s going to be alright?"

Wesley sighed at his girl-friend’s question. "Faith has an indomitable character," he evaded.

"And how’s that going to help her cope with being torn out of heaven?" Kate pressed.

Wesley sighed again. "I have no bloody idea." He shook his head. Willow’s arrogance and stupidity had even worse consequences than they’d ever dreamed. A few hours had passed since Sweet’s revelations but still his entire core shook at the memory. "We can only be there for-."

"Whose that?" Kate’s hand dropped to her holster when a bulky shadow shambled into view from behind a crypt.

Wesley’s eyes narrowed, despair turning to frustration as he recognised the mumbling shape. It appeared tonight’s patrol was over. "Relax," he muttered as his girl-friend before striding towards the shape.

"Wes! And the lovely Kate!" Xander burped at their approach. "Always ready to fulfil a lucky man’s cop fantasy!" he giggled drunkenly.

"What are you doing here, Xander?" a tight-lipped Kate asked.

The drunken youth’s bleary eyes tried and failed to focus on the blonde. "Someone’s gotta patrol, Faith can’t do it," the youth’s eyes dipped down. "Not after being dragged out of heaven."

"And you think this is helping?" Wesley demanded. The moment the youth began to turn towards him, he slammed a haymaker right into Xander’s jaw, the boy swayed, his eyes becoming even glassier. Wesley hammered a left uppercut into Xander’s jaw, snapping the youth’s head back as his legs buckled under him.

Kate gasped as Xander fell soundlessly to the ground. "Wesley-."

"Grab his legs," he grimly interrupted, eyes fixed on the unconscious man. "It’s time Xander and I had a talk."

* * *

"Is our esteemed Watcher and his beautiful blackbird of a Slayer here?" Lorne asked as he burst into the dojo.

"No," Gunn didn’t look away from Groo as the two of them sparred with wooden staffs, every blow sending reverberations through him, the demon-hybrid’s power well over-powering. Groo spun away, right arm snaking out in a strike at Gunn’s left hip that he only just blocked. "Just us!" Gunn gritted his teeth, there was no way he was losing, not to Groosaulug.

"Then my fortune’s doubled," Lorne continued on, blithely ignoring their heated duel. "Because I have a need of champions!"

"I’m not moving furniture for you, hire removal men!" Gunn grimaced as he ducked under Groo’s staff swing and recalled the last time Lorne had used that exact same line.

"Oh so young and yet so cynical!" Lorne shook his head and tutted. "No, I’ve had a reading. And if we don’t move, we’re not going to have time to save the world."

Gunn exchanged a look with Groo as they sprang away from one another and turned to face the garishly-dressed nightclub owner. "Okay, we’re listening."

* * *

"Thank you for your assistance," Wesley looked towards Kate once they’d dumped Xander’s limp and snoring body onto the sofa. "Perhaps you should leave, this is apt to get a little unpleasant."

"Are you sure?" Kate shot him and Xander concerned glances.

"Not really," Wesley admitted. "But Giles is understandably engrossed in Faith’s troubles, someone has to intervene with Xander before things spiral too far."

"Very well," Kate kissed him on the cheek before walking out. "Good luck."

"Thank you." Wesley waited until the front door had closed behind his girl-friend before walking through into the kitchen, pouring himself a mug of water, walking back into the lounge, and flinging the water in the youth’s face.

"What?" Xander spurted and began to pull himself up, freezing as he saw him looking down. "You hit me!"

"I’ve wanted to do that for quite some weeks!" Wesley snarled. "And I’m itching to do it again!" Xander’ mouth opened. "You have a second chance man!"

"You don’t understand," the boy shook his head then raise a hand to stroke his bruised and unshaven jaw, "when Faith died, it tore me apart-."

"And do you think that you were alone in that!" he snapped. "Giles lost his daughter! Cordelia lost her best friend! I had bloody nightmares that I’d failed as a Watcher! But instead of pulling together, of sharing your pain with your friends, you dived into a bottle!"

"You don’t understand!" Xander interrupted, the look of a cornered animal in his eyes. "She died for me!"

"And the guilt drove you into a bottle. Well now she’s back, and she needs you, but you’re still killing yourself slowly with booze." Wesley shook his head. His father had been an unflinching proponent of ‘tough love’, something he didn’t truly believe in, but there were occasions. "This is all excuses," he growled. "A man faces up to his responsibilities. He doesn’t scurry away and hide in the bottom of the bottle."

Wesley threw Xander a towel. The towel hit Xander in the chest before falling to his lap. "You have two choices. Become your father and lose all the respect and love your friends have accumulated for you, or be a man and win back everything you had." Wesley spun away from the boy and started towards the upstairs. "You may stay the night on the sofa, but if you can’t be bothered to change be gone before I come down."

* * *

"Okay, okay," Lorne rubbed at his head. "Here’s the thing. This kid, real geek gets up to sing. Usually I love it. You know, they sing, I read their futures, their auras, I see into their souls..."

"If there is a point, I’m in no danger of cutting myself on it," Gunn shook his head. "Hurry, crisis remember?"

"A crisis is no excuse for ill-manners," Lorne reproved. Gunn sighed. "The thing that was remarkable about him was there was absolutely nothing remarkable about him. Just your average Joe about to mangle a tune and bore me with some bland vision of his bland future. So he gets up and starts, and he knocked me out!"

"That means he is good, correct?"

"No Blue-Eyes," Lorne laughed at Groo’s query. "He knocked me out. When I came to, he was gone."

"He didn't wait to hear what you saw?" Groo queried.

Lorne shook his head. "So what knocked you out?" Gunn queried.

"I looked into this guy and I saw - he has no future after midnight, two hours from now and neither does anybody else." Lorne said. "We've got to find this guy.  This is the big blackout we're talking about.  This guy is gonna do something tonight.  I don't know what, but it's gonna cancel everybody's summer plans.  We need to find and stop him."

"Okay," Gunn’s brow furrowed. "You know who this kid is?"

Lorne shrugged. "He’s not on my Christmas card list."

"Helpful," Gunn grunted. "Don’t you know anything?"

"Wait!" Lorne raised a hand. "Tonight’s Thursday right? Thursday’s always student night. And he always comes in on and a Thursday. Yeah," Lorne nodded, "I do recognise a couple of the crowd he comes in with him. He’ll be a science graduate student."

"So he’s a student," Gunn nodded. "Okay, we best head over to the university. You’d recognise him if you saw him?" Lorne nodded.

"Perhaps we should get Faith," Groo suggested. "She is after all our leader."

"Kiddo," Lorne shook his head. "That girl ain’t up to world-savin’ right now. The alternates are up right now."

"Alternates?" Gunn smirked. "Thanks for that."

* * *

Xander stared dazedly at the glowering Watcher, shocked by prim and proper Wesley’s harshness. But then, he’d never really paid attention to anything relating to Wesley before, and clearly there was a harder edge to the Watcher than he’d previously suspected. Head ringing and shame filling him, he was unable to continue the stare, dropping his gaze to the towel in his lap. "Um, can I use your shower."

Wesley nodded brusquely. "Upstairs, 2^nd door on the left."

* * *

Gene sighed as he scurried into his lab. He couldn’t believe he’d taken time off, not to go and sing at that weird Halloween-themed club. His work was too important, he stopped as he noticed something different about the seventeen-stage calculation up on the white board. "It’s changed." His brow furrowed. "It’s right." Excitement growing, he began to set up his equipment.

* * *

"I believe that you should have taken that left-."

"Look," Gunn shot Groo an irritated glance, "this is my pick-up and I’m driving!"

"You two have no idea! Haven’t you two seen cop-buddy movies?" snapped Lorne. "48 hours!"

"Oh no, you did not compare me to Eddie Murphy," Gunn retorted.

Lorne shook his head. "Well if you prefer, how about Lethal Weapon?"

"You’re comparing me to Danny Glover?" Gunn paused to consider before slowly nodding. "A little old but okay."

"Martin Riggs seems a most competent warrior," Groo commented. "I would like to test my skills against him."

"You’ve explained movies to him?" Lorne queried.

"Tried," Gunn shrugged. "Didn’t seem to take."

* * *

Lorne looked around as they entered the well-lit library. "And what pray tell are we to do if someone sees me?"

Gunn snorted.  "Say you’re the new school mascot.  Wait here."

"Oh that’s right!" the green demon trilled, drawing more attention than a well-built streaker. "Words can hurt too, don’t you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," Gunn strode over to the desk. "Hi," he flashed a badge at the youth sat behind the information desk, "Sunnydale Police, I’m gonna have to see your Student Yearbooks and faculty publications going back the last five years." The bespectacled youth’s mouth opened. "Chop, chop," Gunn snapped. "This is a top priority!"

Gunn strode back to where the Host was stood, his and Groo’s arms filled with books. "Student yearbook/faculty publications going back past five years.  Lets see if we can't find your little madman bent on destroying the universe."

Lorne shook his head. "I like to think of him as our little madman.  That's just me, team player, you know?"

"If it helps you get your ass in gear, sure," Gunn retorted.

"Tetchy tonight aren’t we?" Lorne snapped back. "Not feeling a little guilty are you?"

Gunn eye-balled Lorne. "When I want to talk my feelings out, it won’t be with the walking demonic karaoke machine."

"Ouch," Lorne shook his head, "that hurt, Denzel."

"My friends, do we not have greater concerns?" Groo queried.

"Yeah," Gunn muttered as he started through the books.

"Got him!" Lorne said as he started the fourth book.

"Finally," Gunn grabbed the book from the demon and strode back over to the desk. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Gene Rainey?" the librarian nodded. "He's our own Stephen Hawking.  What do you want with him?"

"He’s a witness who helped a woman after a mugging last week, we want to find him in case he saw something. Where will he be?"

"Oh," the receptionist glanced at a map. "He's got his own lab in the physics department. Uh, it's about a quarter of a mile from here.  You just stay on this path, go past Kelton hall," the receptionist blanched. "What is that?"

Gunn shook his head. "Don't worry.  School mascot."

"Charles!" Hearing Lorne’s shocked shout, he dived to the left, an axe cutting through the air where he’d be stood.

* * *

Wesley stiffened as Xander entered the room. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," the youth looked around nervously before finally sitting.

"I know you’re a drinker, well everyone does," it wasn’t in Wes’ nature to sugar-coat, "the question that remains is what about drugs?"

Xander gasped. "Do you think I’m a complete idiot?"

Wesley snorted. "Has your recent behaviour given any of us any reason to think otherwise?"

"No, I suppose not," Xander’s shoulders slumped still further. "I thought about taking an overdose. But I knew how much you were all already hurting and couldn’t do it."

"Good lord," Wesley’s heart dropped, he’d known Xander was struggling, but this. "Why the bloody hell didn’t you talk to someone?"

"Everyone was struggling to hold it together, besides-." The boy shrugged. "My father-," the youth’s voice caught, "my dad said a real man doesn’t talk about his feelings."

"Yes," Wesley felt the flare of unexpected kinship for the young Californian, "my father said much the same thing, only a little more eloquently. Now that we’ve decided that both our fathers were blithering idiots why don’t you talk to me?"

"You have a father?" Xander looked up at him.

"I wasn’t a bloody pod-person." Wesley heard but couldn’t help the bitterness in his chuckle. "Roger Whyndhm-Pryce, born 1928, Slayer Watcher ’61-64’. A rather splendid Watcher, but a harder, colder more unforgiving father you’d have to search long and hard to find, although perhaps not in our current companions." Wesley paused, embarrassed by his sudden show of emotion. Most unPrycelike. "So if you’d like to talk?"

"I’d like to," Xander’s head bobbed jerkily, "but there’s someone else I really should be talking to."

"Ah," Wesley nodded sagely, "of course. But if you ever need someone to talk to."

"You’ll be the first." Xander paused. "And if you…."

The boy’s voice trailed off. "Of course," Wesley smiled. "Now I believe you’ve somewhere to be?"

* * *

Groo leapt forward, snatching a hold of the racoon-eyed demon in a chokehold, his arm wrapped around the demon’s throat. Sensing another’s approach, he twisted his arms violently, the demon’s neck snapping as he released his grip and spun to face his attacker. "I am afraid," he sidestepped the demon’s down-swinging hatchet and stiff-armed him across the chest, sending the demon in an one-eighty spin that finished with his rival lying face-down, easy prey to a stomp to the back of the head, "you cannot be allowed to impede our efforts."

Another demon sprang at him, but he caught his attacker and twisted with him, allowing the momentum to knock the monster into the steps to the left. The creature leapt up and charged him, catching him with a hard right to the jaw, leaning away from his counter of an overhand right to loop an arm around his shoulder and attempt a throw that Groo blocked with an elbow to the side of the head before grabbing the demon by its throat and choke-slamming down on his head.

Groo looked around, relieved to see that Gunn had ably dealt with the other two of their assailants. "What are these creatures?"

It was the Host who of course replied.  "Luber demons. Fanatical sect, awaiting a messiah who will usher in the end of all human life.  A lot of your demons don't yak about it in mixed company, but it is a pretty popular theology in the underworld."

"It is clear our adversary is a criminal mastermind," Groo pronounced. "We must hurry."

"What…" The receptionist stuttered.

Gunn turned back to the young man. "Sir, this is an ongoing investigation, I’ll thank you not to mention this around. Now, give me those directions?"

* * *

"There’s too many," Gunn roared as they approached the science building and around half a dozen Lubbers climbed out of the undergrowth to bar their way.

"You take care of them," Lorne instructed before running towards the building, ducking out of the grasping hands of one Lubber demon and bursting through the entrance. He grinned as he saw the oblivious scientist in the distance, knelt over his experiment, positioning mirrors.

And then despair grabbed him at the same time as a Lubber, its arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his own arms to his sides. He’d never escape-. Lorne grinned, he’d never reach the scientist, but his voice might.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

He grinned as the mirrors exploded in glass, the Lubber falling away from him in dismay. "Ha!" Lorne punched the air. "I saved the world, even Elvis never managed that in all his movies, go me!"

* * *

"Guys," Gene’s hands shook as he poured the coffee, the demon and men who’d stopped him having returned to his apartment. "I’m sorry, I never imagined…."

Gunn shrugged. "Hey, what mad scientist hasn’t tried to end the world?" Lorne shook his head. "What?"

"Comfort, try it."

"Yeah," Gunn shook his head, "I’m so good at comfort, my best friend never spoke to me for two months as he fell into a bottle."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "So demons, huh?" Gene gasped. "Multi-verse theory who’d have guessed it?"

"Well it’s a new one on me," the green-skinned demon equably agreed.

* * *

Kennedy gasped as she ran through the darkened Nevada woods, Bringers behind and flanking her. She burst out of the forest and into an old dirt track just in front of a battered pick-up. She’d been a Slayer for over a year, a potential for close to a decade, and nothing had ever shaken her, not until she’d seen her Watcher butchered. She had to get to Sunnydale, to the other Slayer. "Please!" she screamed wildly, voice cracking with her force as she waved at the truck. "Please!"

The truck careered to a halt, its driver, a priest to judge from his clothing, peered through the driver’s window. "What’s goin’ on?"

"Thank you! Thank you!" Kennedy hurriedly climbed into the passenger seat.
"Please get me out of here!"

"Was someone hurt? What is it?" the priest asked her, his southern drawl becoming agitated.

"Drive!" she emphasised her instruction with a slam of the door.

"Are you alright?" asked the man as he re-started the car.

"Thank you, thank you," Kennedy babbled. "Thank God you were there."

The priest chuckled. "Well, let's not give him credit for everything. No, I'm funning you. I don't believe it was a coincidence. I also don't believe young girls should be out in the woods late at night should be tucked in bed."

Normally such a comment would have inflamed her ingrained feminism, but right now, she didn’t have the energy. "Wish I was," she whispered.

The driver nodded. "I expect you do at that. Look, I don't mean to pry, but those boys, they looked like—. Well, you didn't happen to fall in with devil worshipers, did you?" Kennedy didn’t answer, just stared out of the window. "No, I'm sorry. Is there some place you'd like me to drop you? You heading some place?

"Sunnydale," Kennedy whispered.

The priest nodded. "I expect we should find a police station or a—."

Kennedy shook herself, forcing herself to concentrate. "If you drop me at the nearest bus or train station that’ll be fine thanks, Father."

"Call me Caleb. Never was nobody's daddy."

Kennedy nodded. "Kennedy."

"Well, Kennedy, you feel like telling me why those Freaky Joe's were after you?"

Kennedy shuddered, remembering the creatures. "I…I’m not sure."

"Well, do you ever think that maybe they were chasing you because you're a whore?"

"What?" Kennedy’s eyes snapped towards the priest, unable to believe what he’d just said.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. Crazy preacher man spoutin' off at the mouth about the whore of Babylon or some-such. That ain't me. I'm not here to lecture you. I mean, what's the point?" Kennedy gasped when the truck screeched to a halt, the driver’s elbow smashing into her face. Dazed, she threw a left that the man somehow blocked before twisting her fist back, wrist snapping like a twig. "My words just curdle in your ears. Wouldn't take in a thing." The man grabbed the back of her head, she backhanded him in the face to no apparent effect. "Head's filled with so much filth that ain't no room for words of truth. Well, you know what you are, Kennedy? Dirty." Her face crashed into the dashboard. "Lesbian harlot tempting but never pleasing men." Her face hit the dashboard. "Now, now, now. There's no blame here. You were born dirty, born without a soul. Born with that gaping maw wants to open up, suck out a man's marrow. Makes me puke to think too hard on it." Again her head hit the dashboard hard enough to crack it. "Slut tempting with what you’ll never give." Her face hit the dashboard again, her world nothing but red pain. And then her head was being shoved through the windscreen, a sliver of glass sliding across her throat ripping it apart. "No more men will you lead to Gomorrah with your unnatural practices."

By the time her body hit the road she was already dead.

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