"I’m bloody coming!" Giles snarled at the knocking door. Visitors at this late hour? The mood he was in, he only hoped it was a bloody vampire. Yanking the door open, he stared disdainfully at the figure stood slouched there. "You." He snapped.

"Hey," Xander smiled up weakly at him, "I was hopin’, I could-, maybe I could talk to Faith?"

Giles stared distrustfully at the youth, at least he looked alert and smelled relatively clean, a rarity these days. "Are you sober?" the youth nodded meekly. Giles pursed his lips, not wanting to do this, but it wasn’t as if he could reach her. "You know where her room is." The young man stepped over the threshold. Giles halted the youth with a hand to the chest. "Mess this up, and they won’t be able to find the body-parts."

Xander blinked then his eyes hardened. "I won’t hurt her."

Giles shook his head as he watched the youth stride upstairs. "You better not."

* * *

"Hey, Faith." Faith stiffened at Xander’s voice outside her room but didn’t budge from the foetal ball she’d curled up on her bed. She heard her boy-friend try the door handle. "Faith I-." Her Slayer hearing picked up Xander’s otherwise inaudible sigh, then the door creak as he leant against it. "When you died," she heard the almost not there hitch in her boy-friend’s voice, "when you died saving me, I couldn’t cope. None of us could. Giles, he lost his daughter, his reason for being. Cordy, she lost the only person who’d ever seen the real her. We all lost something, someone that had made us better than we were before. I hate to say it though, but I think I had it worse. You were the girl I loved, but it was more than that, I was the reason you died." Xander paused. "Without you I had this massive hole in my stomach, I had to fill it with something, something that’d wash the guilt away. So I started to drink, just once, just to forget, and then once became twice, and twice became every night." Xander paused. "Even when you came back I couldn’t stop, couldn’t feel anything, didn’t dare opening myself up. I know Willow messed up and all, ripping you out of heaven, but I…I’m glad you’re here, you’re back. I’m tired of being scared, I want to feel what we had, I want Giles not to look so helpless, I want the light back in your eyes-."

Faith caught Xander as he toppled into her room when she opened the door. "Ya wanna go for a walk?" she licked her lips, heart fluttering with a rare nervousness; she was scared of feeling again too. To feel was to be human, and to be human was to be hurt, but she could trust Xander not to hurt her.

Couldn’t she?

Forcing her momentary fear away, she nodded at Xander’s furtive smile, sweaty palm clasping sweaty palm. "Okay," Xander swallowed.

* * *

After five minutes of walking through Sunnydale’s darkened streets, Faith looked up at her boy-friend, their hands still clasped. "Why don’t ya ask the question that’s buggin’ yar ass?"

"What’s it like," he licked his lips, "you know, heaven."

Faith shrugged. "Light, peace, bliss."

"Sounds boring," Xander said without thinking then cringed inwardly. Oh nice move James Bond, insult the place she’s pining for. Good to see months of alcohol abuse haven’t changed his womanising skills.

Yep, they’re still crappy.

Faith laughed softly. "I ‘pose it does, but I liked it."

"I suppose it’d take someone really picky to get bored of eternal bliss," Xander conceded.

"Yeah," Faith’s eyes narrowed, something alerting her senses. "Trouble." Her eyes widened again when a pregnant woman flew around the corner, eyes wild and hand on her swollen belly. "Whoa!" Faith stepped in the woman’s path and grabbed her elbows. "Don’t worry-. Shit!" Her eyes zeroed in on the bulky, horned demon with tusks in its mouth that charged around the corner. "Xan, look after her, I’m on offence!"

Faith leapt at the demon, catching a head-snapping right to the forehead for her troubles before ducking under a left and catching the demon with two rights to the belly. The demon roared at her attack, grabbing her by the throat and flinging her into the wall.

"Owww!" Pain crashed through her back as she hit the wall before twisting out of the way of the beast’s attempted heel-kick to the face, and jamming a retaliatory elbow into the side of its head.

The demon howled before lunging at her, forcing Faith to sidestep as she reached under her adversary’s nearest arm and grabbed the demon around its thick throat, before lifting and slamming the demon on the hard tarmac. Despite the ground’s unyielding nature, the beast still managed to roll out of the way of a stomp and kick Faith behind her left calf, knocking to her one knee.

The demon growled victoriously as it kicked at her head only to gasp when she grabbed its ankle and jammed her free palm into its inner knee. The demon howled as its knee popped out, stumbling away only for Faith to leap at it, her arm wrapping around its neck as she pulled it down, its neck snapping on her upswinging knee.

Dropping the corpse, Faith turned to the sobbing woman. "Relax," she said as she stalked over to the woman and Xander, she really didn’t do empathy ‘specially these days, but if she was to re-connect she’d have to do. "He’s toast."

"What did you do!" the woman pulled away from Xander and crouched over the dead demon, stroking at its face. "You killed Kamal!"

Faith exchanged a bemused look with Xander. "I thought-."

"He was my protector!" the woman snapped as she spun to face Faith. "He was supposed to protect me from the Tribunal! And now he’s gone!"

"Shit!" Faith screamed as the woman tasered her, pain shooting through her entire body with enough force to make her teeth dance and knock her back against the wall, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Stay away from me!" Even as Xander leapt to her side, supporting her so she didn’t end up a pile on the floor, pregnant lady disappeared into the shadows.

"P…phone the others," Faith slurred as her body returned control to her, "we have to find her ‘fore-."

"She gets hurt?" Xander suggested.

"I was gonna say ‘fore the crazy bitch goes postal on anyone else, but whatever makes you feel good ‘bout yourself," Faith groaned as Xander helped her upright.

* * *

"Oh bloody hell," Giles cursed as he looked at the book before him, unable to concentrate one the normally so-pleasurable task of reading. He flung the book down and hurried out into the hallway, eyes widening as he saw Faith leaning drunkenly against Xander. "You thought a solution to Faith’s problems was to get her drunk?"

"Wasn’t him!" Faith raised a weak arm as he advanced on the paling youth. "This bitch babbling on ‘bout some shit called the Tribunal tasered me! And she was fuckin’ pregnant!" Faith shook her head. "This ain’t goin’ into the memoirs."

Giles looked from Faith to Xander and back again. "Who tasered you?" he listened to the story with increasing bemusement. "Wait? You said the Tribunal?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded weakly, the colour returning to her face. "Heard of them?"

"Never," Giles admitted, "but it sounds somewhat significant." Giles pursed his lips. "Are you alright now?"

Faith nodded. "Five by five."

"Excellent," Giles nodded. "Then I would suggest you and Xander go and search for this unfortunate young woman while I-."

"Research."

His heart lifted at the brunette’s sudden wink. He forced back his elation to concentrate on the problem in hand. "Exactly."

* * *

"You know what Sunnydale’s got in abundance?"

Faith glanced at her boy-friend as they strode through dimly-lit tunnels. "Vampires? Graveyards?"

"Well yeah," Xander conceded, "but I was thinking more in the way of tunnels. Creepy tunnels with all manner of rodents and creepy crawlies in it"

Faith shot Xander a caustic look. "If that’s your way of gettin’ me closer, real obvious."

Xander sighed. "The one time I’m sincere and -."

Her boy-friend stopped at her raised hand. "Different coloured vent." Seeing Xander’s furrowed brow, she clarified. "Go back around the corner, tell me what colour it is."

"Okay," Xander backed off and then returned a second later. "Grey."

"And so are all the rest, this one’s blue."

Xander shrugged. "Maybe they ran out of the grey ones."

"Maybe," Faith scrabbled at the side, snatching and tugging on a latch that opened it up. They walked inside, pulling the vent shut behind them.

Faith looked around the sparse but clean and neat living quarters. "Look around for-," she shrugged. "You know."

"Not vague at all," Xander muttered.

Faith flipped her man the finger before starting to search. "Whoa, what’s this?" Xander queried. Faith turned around and found Xander fiddling with an intricately carved wooden box. She heard a sudden click and a hidden drawer sprang open, revealing a round metal disk.

"Cool find," Faith pursed her lips. "Hustle back to G and see if he can tell ya what it can be?"

"You’ll be alright?"

Faith forced a smirk. "Slayer, remember?"

"Okay," Xander flashed her a smile and then left.

Leaving her alone. Faith felt a familiar emptiness in her gut, a chill pain that once again threatened to numb her. Faith tensed as some time later the vent creaked open, the pregnant woman entering. "Relax," she raised her hands, "I’m here to help."

The woman backed away, eyes filling. "You shouldn't be here.  You don't have the right."

Faith nodded. "Yeah I know," she soothed. "I fucked up, but your protector’s mission is mine now."

The pregnant woman laughed, a touch hysterically. "You sound just like him, with your missions and codes of honour!  Well, I'm not interested.  I'm just trying to protect my baby."

"Yeah, I get that." Faith replied. "You wanna protect your kid, I can understand that."

"How could you?  I don't even understand it!  I mean, six months ago I'm working the register at Costco.  I did my time as a stock-girl and I was moving up.  I was gonna be able to provide for my baby.  Now all I wanna do is make sure she gets born."

"Well, I want that too," Faith said.

"Right.  Because she is some seer, or leader or Joan of Arc.  Well, you know what she is to me? My daughter.  Not someone's holy mission."

"No," Faith shook her head, "no zealot looking for a cause, just someone who knows people can’t do everything on their own, sometimes ya need help. Let me help you. Let me help your daughter."

The woman stared at her for a second before slowly nodding. "We need to find the coat of arms.  Kamal said I needed to present it to the Tribunal and maybe if I do they call this whole thing... What?"

Faith smirked. "It wouldn't be a round bronze talisman.  Oh, say, about this big?"

The pregnant lady let out a choked sob. "Yes."

Faith’s smirk widened. "I already found it."

"Yeah?" The woman’s face lit up. "Where is it?" Faith scratched the back of her head, this was kinda embarassin’. "What?"

"Well I don’t exactly have it," Faith admitted. "I know where it is," she sighed as the woman shoved the vent open and climbed out. "Hey!" Faith barked her address. "Look, if I take you there my pop’ll have it."

"Do me a favour?" the woman snapped. "Stop helping!"

Faith shook her head as she followed after the woman. "What's the Tribunal?"

"I’m not sure," the woman admitted. "Some kind of otherworldly court.  Supposedly they can save me and my daughter.  You - you go before them, you got to have that charm... I don't know how it works.  Kamal said that he was gonna be my champion. - You know what?  Screw this!  I'm getting out of town!"

Faith grabbed the woman’s arm, eyes watchful in case she went for her taser. Once was shame on her, twice, Faith was sure she’d after change her underwear afterwards. "They'll find you wherever you go.  You have to stay with me."

The woman laughed hysterically. "You?  You can't protect me!"

"It’s kinda what I do," Faith snapped. "Now come on, we need to get the charm, then I’ll sort everything-." Faith looked behind her. "Crap, run for it! Go!"

Spinning around, she charged to meet the chasing demons, leaping into the air to dropkick the first in the chest. "Ahh!" She grunted as the second cracked a kick across her shoulderblades before launching a back-heel kick to her attacker’s crotch. The first demon used the distraction to plant a heel in her gut.

Faith grunted as she doubled up, using her only available weapon, a stake, and jabbing it into the first demon’s left thigh. As the first demon fell back, hands clawing at the injured leg, the second wrapped an arm around her throat, Faith threw her legs up, kicking the demon in front of her in the chest and using the momentum to push herself and her assailant behind her off balance and onto their asses.

The moment they hit the ground, Faith backward-rolled off the demon and up, just in time to block a left on her forearm from the first demon and deliver a nose-cracking headbutt in retaliation. Faith smirked as the demon fell back before kicking a field goal with the head of the rising second monster.

The first lunged at her again, points for persistence, zero for intelligence, Faith flowed past him, caught him with a knife hand to the throat before grabbing his head and twisting, his neck snapping and body falling away as the second demon made it to its hands and knees. And fell away again when Faith snatched the stake out of the first’s leg and used it to sever the second’s head.

Then she spun on her heel and raced after the pregnant woman. Fuck, she had to have gone to G’s.

* * *

Giles and Xander hurried into the hallway when she crashed through into the house. "Are you alright?" Xander grabbed her hands. "What happened?"

Faith looked around, a gnawing hole in her stomach when she failed to see the pregnant woman. "She didn’t come did she?"

"The pregnant woman?" Giles shook his head. "Xander brought the talisman here, but…" The Watcher shrugged. "Working on it."

"Work faster," Faith paced impatiently.

"Ha!" Giles gasped and looked up. "I have something. It's medieval.  A small badge or coat of arms, to be presented when going before the Cahair Binse.  Roughly translated that's chair of judgement."

Xander nodded.  "The Tribunal."

"Exactly," Giles replied.  "An ancient court to settle grievances."

"So, like LA Law with loin-cloths?" Xander queried.

Giles shook his head. "More primitive than that I’m afraid. It's a fight to the death."

"That's why she needed a champion." Faith sucked in her cheeks. "Where would this Tribunal take place?"

"Give me a second." Giles raised a hand. "Ah," Giles flipped over the page, "here it is. The Tribunal will appear at the ‘seat of judgement’ nearest the one awaiting judgement."

"Sunnydale Courthouse," Faith snatched up the disk. "Thanks G, see ya both later."

* * *

The pregnant woman screamed and fell on her behind as a trio of stone thrones occupied by dark robed figures rose out of the ground before her.  A horse whinnied and a knight rode up the street towards them.

The knight dropped a bronze disk to the ground before the trio of robbed figures. "Where is your champion?" the middle Judge queried, his tone coldly impersonal.

"He's-he's dead."

"No," Faith dropped her bronze disk on top of the knight, glaring imperiously at first the knight and then the Tribunal, "I’m right here."

The Judge sunk back into his seat. "Two are chosen to meet in combat.  One can save your life.  One can take it.  This is the ancient law."

Faith smirked at the knight. "Man, did you fuck up by comin’ here."

The central Judge peered down and intoned.  "The trial by combat will begin."

"You can’t do this," the woman whispered to Faith as she stared at the knight, "I really appreciate you coming through for us like this.  But you’re just a girl!"

"No," Faith shook her head, eyes fixed on her opponent, "I’m not just a girl." A sudden flash of pride filled her. "I’m the Slayer, the warrior monsters run from." Faith looked a little uncertainly at the white horse. ’Course she’d never actually ridden anything that came without an engine before.

The woman stepped aside as Faith stalked up to the horse. "Kay," she whispered in the horse’s ear, "let’s make a deal, I’ll keep you alive if you keep me from lookin’ like a complete ‘tard." Taking the horse’s neigh as agreement, Faith vaulted onto the back of the horse, leather-clad thighs wrapping around the horse as she took the shield and lance. "I’m wicked glad she didn’t ask if I’d used a lance before," Faith muttered as she took the shield, lance, and sword. "Ah screw it," she dropped the lance and shield at roughly the same time the middle judge dropped a red cloth, the rival knight galloping forward. "Why did G never teach me to freakin’ joust?"

Ignoring the pregnant woman’s shocked cry, she dug her heels into her horse’s flanks, the steed bursting forward. Sweat beaded on Faith’s forehead as she raced towards the other horse, bouncing in the saddle. At the last second she leapt from the horse, the knight’s lance moving too slowly to track her.

Faith grunted as she cross-bodied into the knight, the force of the impact lifting the knight from his saddle and crashing to the ground. Faith rolled up and brought her heel down hard on the knight’s visor, smashing it into his face. "’Kay," Faith strode back in front of the Tribunal, "she’s safe now, right?"

The Central Judge nodded, they really didn’t need to have bothered with the other two, he seemed to do all the work.  "You have won.  She is under our protection, as is her daughter until she comes of age." The Judge paused. "You on the other hand, will face your very own trial of three in the future, perhaps it is best-."

"Yeah," Faith interrupted, impatient to get home. "We’re done here right?"

The tribunal disappeared. "You’re alright?"

"As crazy spur of the moment plans go that one went okay," Faith turned to face the pregnant lady. "You alright?"

"I will be now," the pregnant woman smiled weakly. "Thanks to you."

"Part of the job."

* * *

"You did well tonight," Giles praised as he closed the door behind Xander and turned to his daughter stood in the darkened hallway. His heart hollowed as he noticed her shoulders shaking and the sound of sniffling. "Come now," in an instant he was by her side, drawing her into a hug, "let it out."

"I just wanna feel again," the Slayer’s tears flowed, wettening his shirt.

"It’ll be alright," he murmured, arms wrapped around his charge’s shoulders as they trembled, "It’ll be alright. We’ll look after you."

Xander swallowed, lips so dry as he entered the room and crept to a seat at the back. God, this was so hard, but he had to do this, he was sick of disappointing those who cared about him.

"Hello young man," Xander groaned inwardly as the cultured looking suit behind the podium looked towards him, apparently his stealthy wasn’t a patch on Faith’s, "all new members are invited to speak."

Xander started to shake his head only to hear his own shaky voice. "Sure." Hell, he rose, his legs shaking under him and palms sweaty, if he was going to do this, he might as well go all the way.

Conscious of the eyes watching him, he walked the impossibly long forty metre walk from the back of the room to the front, climbed on stage and spoke. "Hello, I’m Xander and I’m an alcoholic."

* * *

"You sure we’re gonna go to this?"

Xander shrugged as he waited outside his girl-friend’s room. "We should, the others have been-," his voice trailed off.

"Worried, yeah I get that, just-, ah to hell with it." Faith’s door swung open. "Pass muster?"

Xander’s Adam’s apple bounced up and down as he stared at his girl-friend, clad in a pair of knee-length cowgirl boots, frayed-hemed Daisy Dukes that just about covered her curved rear, and a zip-up blue crop-top that appeared impossible to breath in. "Oh yeah," he gulped, it appeared oxygen consumption was a problem for him too, "you’ll be beating guys off with a stick."

"Then they’re shit outta luck." Faith half-smiled. "Don’t want anyone but you."

"Thanks." Xander returned Faith’s half-smile with one of his own. "The reason I couldn’t patrol last night," Xander took another breath. "I was at a meeting."

"I’m proud of ya, babe." Faith’s dimples deepened as she squeezed his hand. "G," Faith hollered as they were mid-way down the steps. "We’re off."

* * *

Music from the year’s most media-savvy, rather than best, bands blasted out from the room’s stereo set, the table pushed up against the wall filled with drinks and party food, while the majority of the student patry-goers bobbed and talked. All in all, perfectly boring. "Hey," Gunn straightened and stepped away from the wall, eyes going to the doorway, "they’re here."

"Oh goody!" Willow clapped, then looked nervously around. "Remember-."

"Don’t mention the whole resurrection dealio," Cordelia glared down at the shorter girl, the heat between them not entirely caused by Willow’s one hundred or so reminders, "we got it after the first dozen times." The witch fell sulkily silent, glaring back at Cordelia.

As cat-fights were far more enjoyable if you didn’t know either of the participants, Gunn took that opportunity to grab a beer and go and greet his best friend. "Hey Faith, you look smokin’ girl," he greeted before offering the bottle to Xander, "here."

"Thanks but no," Xander shot him a pained look, "I don’t-."

"X don’t drink anymore," Faith interrupted.

"Cool," Gunn felt immediately uncomfortable. "More for me, right?"

"Yeah," Faith shuffled from foot to foot.

Oh yeah, Gunn cursed inwardly, this had been a great idea. "The munchies look good," he said weakly.

Faith returned his comment with a slight, not-quite there, smile. "Only thing better than fightin’ and fuckin’," Faith replied, "is food, lead the way, Charlie-boy."

* * *

"Hi, I’m April. I heard that Warren was here. Is Warren here?"

Tara blinked at the sudden interruption into their conversation, turning she saw a brunette around their age of breath-taking beauty, but with a strange, glassy look to her eyes. "W..warren who?"

The very beautiful and immaculately made up girl smiled. "He's ... Warren. And he's looking for me. He lost me."

"Damn," Gunn said, "I’m bettin’ the boy’s got an advert in the lost and foun-." The black flinched at Cordelia’s glare. "And I just said that aloud didn’t I?"

April spun and walked away, asking people the same question. "She’s a little odd," commented Willow. "I saw her at one of the dorms earlier today, asking the same question."

"Girl needs to get a life," Faith opinioned.

"And some self respect, no man’s worth that." Cordelia glared at Gunn. "No man."

"Duly noted," Gunn mumbled.

"I just hope she finds him," Tara said

"Somehow I don't think a girl that looks like that's gonna be lonely for too long." Cordelia commented.

"Definitely not," Willow said then blushed at Tara. "Oh, not me, I, I was just saying, a pretty girl like that, there's always someone lurking around, looking for some action."

"Oh wow," Xander chortled. "If there’s gonna be a cat-fight, let’s make some money scalping tickets."

"Holy shit!" Faith spun towards the window when she saw April throw a boy who’d just pinched her ass through the window. "Girl’s got real issues, be right back."

* * *

April glared through the shattered window. "You should not make those suggestions to me. I have a boyfriend. Warren is my boyfriend." April looked around. "No one but Warren can touch me."

"Whoa Xena," Faith blocked the brunette’s path. "I don’t doubt that ass deserved what he got, sis, but ya’ve gotta chill-."

"Do you know my boyfriend?" April interrupted.

"Kay," Faith shook her head. "I think you need to take a second and stop looking for your boyfriend." her eyes bulged when the woman grabbed her by her elbows and threw her into the wall and to the floor.

April walked over to her. "If I hurt you just now, I'm sorry. And I hope that your boyfriend will take good care of you."

"Jesus," Faith rose with a groan as April strode out. "It’s like the Stepford Wives got a real good roid dealer."

* * *

"She can’t be human, right?" Xander queried as they rushed out of the dorm in search of Faith’s assailant. "I mean, this may sound nuts, but I kinda got the impression that she was a robot."

"Yeah, I was gonna say robot. What do you think she wants?" Faith queried.

"Warren, whoever that is," Tara obviously pointed out.

"Whoever he is, he knows his stuff. That girl, well that was a nice-lookin' girl," Xander commented.

Faith glared at him. "Ever thought you shouldn’t talk as much?"

"Gotta be the guy who built her," Gunn commented. "Hey Witchy," Gunn glanced at Willow. "Any chance you can track him down?"

"Warren’s not a common name," Willow pursed her lips. "I can get a list of the Sunnydale students named Warren tonight, but then we'll have to call them or go to their dorms, so we probably can't start narrowing it down till tomorrow. "

Faith scowled. "She could do a lot of damage by then. We should get started now."

Tara nodded. "Should we call Giles?"

"Robots, hardly his area of expertise," Faith snorted. "Will, back to your place?"

* * *

"Oooh!" Willow punched the air. "Found," her eyes fell on Faith, then guiltily moved away, looking at no-one in particular, "there’s just one enrolled at Sunnydale UC."

"Wicked," Faith peered at the address, "I’ll go sort this."

"Maybe you shouldn’t go until we know what this robot does," Willow suggested. "We have no idea what his motive is for building this thing."

"I’m pretty much going with sexbot," Faith replied as she made to the door.

"I mean, what guy doesn't dream about that?" Gunn ruminated. "Beautiful girl with no other thought but to please you, willing to do anything..."

"So Queen C really is the Ice Queen then?" Faith snorted as Cordy glared at the suddenly wilting black. "And I thought Xander had no verbal self-control. I’d stop around for the massacre, but I got stuff to do."

"You sure you don’t need any help?" Xander queried.

Faith flashed her boy-friend a smile. "I’m kinda gonna be going full-pelt, thanks but ya couldn’t keep up."

* * *

The door swung open on her third knock. "I’m Faith, we were at Sunnydale High together, remember?"

"I remember you," Warren nodded.

"’Course you do," Faith sighed and shook her head as she pushed into the house, noticing just where the slimy nerd was lookin’, "eyes up mister ‘fore you lose one or both of them." Faith warned as she strode into the lounge. "Wanna tell me ‘bout April?"

"April?"

"Don’t even try," Faith warned. "I’ve been bullshitted by people who actually know what the fuck they’re doin’. You don’t qualify. Talk." Faith shook her head. "You’re not getting any dates, so you turn to mass-production?"

"It’s not like that," Warren protested. "She's not a toy. I mean, I know what you're thinking, but she's more than that."

"I’m just bettin’ she has many exciting labour-saving attachments. "

"No, I made her to love me." Warren paused. "I mean, she cares about what I care about, and she wants to be with me. She listens to me and supports me. I didn't make a toy. I made a girlfriend."

Faith shook her head. "You are one sick puppy."

Warren looked down at the floor. "She got boring. She was exactly what I wanted, and I didn't want her. I thought I was going crazy."

"Imagine that," Faith muttered.

"So, I sorta just moved," Warren continued. "I figured it would take her as long as her batteries would last to find me."

Faith shook her head, disgust filling her. She’d met some sick puppies in her time, guys who thought hitting a girl proved how much you cared for them, who thought controlling them proved how much you cared. But this dude was a whole different level. "Is she dangerous?"

"No," Warren shook his head. "She's only programmed to be in love."

"Coulda fooled me," Faith looked at the nerd. "How do we find her?" Faith shook her head then grabbed the man by his arm. "Come on, my guess is she’ll be around."

In just a couple of minutes they were walking through a darkened playground. "April!" Warren yelled. "April, are you there? If the batteries are still working and she hears my voice, then ... she'll answer."

"She's voice-activated?" Faith queried.

Warren flushed. "Well, I made it so that if she heard me and she didn't answer, it causes this kind of feedback."

"Wait, if you call her and she doesn't answer, it hurts her? " Faith shook her head. "Imagine a charmer without you not having a chick-pal."

Warren scowled, his mouth opening in a response that Faith really didn’t want to hear.

And then April stepped out of the shadows. "She’s not your girl-friend, I am!"

* * *

Faith shook her head. "No, really not."

"Attractive girl with Warren, Warren is attractive to all women!" April snapped.

"Heh, sure your programming ain’t malfunctioning there sweetheart?" Faith queried.

"A,,,April," Warren stammered. "I made a mistake."

"You’re Warren," April giggled. "Warren doesn’t make mistakes."

"Sweet Jesus," Faith shot her companion a disgusted look. "A god complex too?"

"I thought that I made you everything that I wanted, but it wasn't really what I wanted." Warren flushed at her comment but continued. "I'm sorry, bu-but it's over."

April’s brow furrowed. " But ... I can be whatever you want. I love you. I'll do whatever you want. Would you like a neckrub?"

Warren backed away from the advancing robot. "No, hey, no. See, I - I know that you love me, but the truth is, I can't love you." April frowned. "I mean, it's not your fault, but..."

April’s frown turned into an expression of murderous rage. "I love her!" Warren squeaked as he looked at her.

"What now?" Faith snarled, her eyes snapping instinctively towards the nerd. "On what plane-."

And then April caught Faith with a right to the jaw that sent Faith flying over the merry-go-round to land in the dirt on the far side. "Fuck," Faith rolled up, dirt falling off her, in time to see April go over to the see-saw and snap it in half, wielding the broken off board like a weapon, "looks like I’m gonna get a paddling. Kinky."

Faith leapt forward to meet the robot, snatching at the board and kicking April in the gut as she did so. The robot stumbled back, releasing her grip on the board and snatching a hold of the see-saw to steady herself. Faith swung her makeshift weapon and hit April in the stomach, tearing away her blouse to reveal the machinery in her stomach. "And that freak was bonin’ this?" Faith gasped as she tried another swing, this time for April’s head. "Shit!" she cursed as the robot punched her way through the wood and then back-handed her across the face.

Faith flew through the night air, her flight only stopped when she grabbed the climbing frame’s overhead bar and swung back the way she’d just flown, landing beside the robot, catching a bruising knee to the hip for her troubles.

The pain flaring through her leg, she ducked under April’s next haymaker and caught the robot with a teeth-rattling uppercut that just got her a dazing headbutt that knocked her into the swings. Grabbing a hold of a chain, Faith swung into a drop kick that crashed into April’s chest. Upon landing she followed up with an elbow to the side of the head.

Suddenly April grabbed her by the throat, lifting her from the ground, choking Faith with inexorable tightness. "You took my man. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to," confusion flicked in the robot’s eyes, "I can't can't crush! S…so tired." Faith grunted as she hit the ground, breath coming in tortured gasps, chest heaving as she took in all the air she could. "Warren? Where are you? What's happening to me?" Suddenly the lights dimmed in the robot’s eyes and she pitched forward, leaving Faith rolling out of the way.

"Fuck," Faith gasped as she pulled herself up, free hand massaging her probably bruised throat. Then her eyes hardening, remembering the bastard who’d set her up.

Time to make that account paid in full…..

* * *

The door splintered under a single kick. "Hey!" a pale-faced Warren appeared in the hallway. "You can’t-, ugggg!"

She shut him up with a backhand across the face that sent him staggering into the wall, then ensured he remained quietened by grabbing him around the throat and lifting him off the ground. "You set me up you son of a bitch!" she grated. "You’ve no fuckin’ idea what love is, you can’t build it!" The faces of her friends and family flashed before her eyes, sparking an aching longing. "Have you considered that the reason you can’t get a girl-friend is ‘cause you’re such a worthless ass?" Faith sighed as the nerd struggled vainly to pull her arm away. "Like talkin’ to a fuckin’ wall. Well hear this, I see ya in town again, I’m gonna remember you set me up and do serious damage. Leave Sunnydale."

Dropping Meers to the ground, she strode out and pulled out her cell. "Yeah," Faith grinned when Xander answered her call, "sexbot’s dealt with. Nah," she shook her head, "it’s two now," she cursed as she glanced at her watch, "I’m headin’ home. See ya."

* * *

LA.

Ashtet paced his high-rise apartment, that thief he’d employed should have been back hours before, but she hadn’t returned, nor had she replied to any of his increasingly urgent texts for information.

Suddenly the door exploded open and a well-built man dressed in a priest’s garb strode through, the thief he’d hired hanging limply from his out-stretched hand. The priest laughed at his shocked look. "Your ungodly spells and unclean rituals won’t help you now, she has decreed that she will rise."

"This dimension is not for her," Ashtet tried to summon his reserves of power only to find he was blocked.

"More blasphemy." The murdered thief’s head bounced off the carpet when her killer dropped her. "She is all-knowing and all-powerful. Everything is hers to command. And you are just an obstacle in her path."

* * *

"G!" Faith called as she entered her home. "You won’t believe what-." Her voice trailed off as her Slayer Sense kicked in. "Shit," she grunted as she eased the lounge door open. Her jaw dropped at the sight of her Watcher, her father, rocking himself back and forth on the sofa. "G," she hurried forward, "what’s happening?"

"The Council," Giles looked up, eyes red with unshed tears, "they’re all dead, the Council Headquarters been blow up. My father-." The Watcher looked down. "Everyone’s dead."

The Astral Plane

"Oh Ripper," he chuckled his old friend turned bitter foe fell apart, his emotional defences finally crumbling after months of watching and waiting. "You failed me. So everything you’ve ever built up is just going to have to go!"

* * *

"That’s not possible." Wesley shook his head, unable to process what the voice at the other end of the cell was telling him. "The Totem is impossibly powerful." He paused to try again to digest this news. "And there’s no clue who’s murdering them?" He paused again, digesting his source’s unpalatable reply. "Keep looking and I’ll do the same from this end."

* * *

"Hey, G!" Faith babbled as Giles strolled into the kitchen, wondering just what to talk about after the previous night, "I made some coff-, oww!" She spun to face her father. "What the hell was that?"

"I was just giving your pretty little arse an appreciative slap," Giles winked at her.

"Pretty little arse?" Faith’s eyes narrowed. "How much did you drink last night?"

"Not enough," her father smirked at her, "to stop me seeing just how delectable you’re looking today."

"Yeah," Faith drawled as she wondered what the likely consequences would be for wrapping a rolling pin around G’s head. "Ain’t you got that meeting about magical responsibility with Willow this mornin’? I could ring to cancel if you’re not feelin’ well."

"Not feeling well?" Giles shook his head. "Perish the thought. And please dear, stop dropping the gs at the end of words."

"Yeah," Faith peered after Giles as he sauntered out, "whatever."

* * *

"Hello Ms. Chase," Ethan took Cordelia’s hand and kissed it, his lips lingering a split-second longer than was polite. Not that this ample-bosomed but not especially bright colonial would notice, but still, one couldn’t be indiscreet. At least not yet. "Please send Miss. Rosenberg straight in when she arrives."

The former cheerleader shot him an uneasy look. "Sure, Giles."

Ten minutes later and the door to the inner office creaked open. "Ah, Miss. Rosenberg," Ethan swung his feet off the desk and rose, the red-haired wicca flinching at the carefully manufactured look of disapproval on his face. "Please, take a seat."

"Sure, Giles."

Ethan struggled not to shake his head. Such power, it came off her in waves. It was a wonder that Giles’ fillings didn’t rattle with feedback. Of all the threats, she’d be the most dangerous. Of course, if he dealt with her first, it would de-stabilise the ‘Scoobies’. "No-one should ever be afraid of power."

"But you said-."

"I know what I said," he raised a hand to forestall an interruption. "And while your actions were well-intentioned, one doesn’t do what you did-."

"Faith shouldn’t have died! We all wanted her back!"

Ethan blinked. Good lord, she’d raised the dead? How much power did she have? "Nevertheless," he broke off and smiled. "I’ll make us both a cuppa before this gets out of hand." Without waiting for the witch, he hurried out, sweat beading on his forehead. Direct confrontation with a witch of her power, was he bloody mad? No, there was a far better way.

Upon reaching the kitchen, he hurriedly pulled out an herb he’d used on more than one occasion, although usually for less arcane reasons, and poured some into Willow’s cup. Nevertheless, it did the trick, after two or three hours the consumer would become very drowsy, and then go into a coma for forty-eight hours. There was no known cure and no lasting side-effects, it was also almost undetectable unless one knew what they were looking for.

And in forty-eight hours, Willow would awake to find the world had changed very radically. Her precious Scooby gang would be gone.

Ethan bared his teeth in a smirk. Ripper thought to desert his old friend without any consequences? Well he was going to pay the bloody piper, him, his Slayer, and his friends an’ all.

* * *

"Hi Willow!" Tara smiled as her girl-friend walked into their dorm room. "How did your lesson go?" She so hoped that her love got her dark tendencies under control, Willow scared her sometimes.

"It was the best!" Willow’s beam briefly dimmed as she raised her hand to her head. "My head-."

"Willow!" Tara screamed as her girl-friend crumpled and fell to the ground.

* * *

"Hey," Faith crept through the foyer’s front door, eyes flitting left and right, "where’s G?"

Cordelia looked up at her whisper, her best friend’s expression souring. "The creep’s in the inner office."

"You too, huh?" Faith queried. "He slapped my ass this morn’."

"Giles, never!" Cordy gasped. "I’ve hardly been able to keep his eyes out of my top."

Faith grinned. "Be fair, everythin’ practically spills out of it he was probably just tryin’ to shove it back in." Cordy’s eyes widened in outrage. "Wes in his inner office? Thanks." Before the cheerleader had chance to react she’d skipped past her desk and into Wes’ office, the Watcher bent over a book and talking into a phone, his pen scratching away at his pad. "Wes?"

The younger Watcher looked up. "I’ll call you back." The moment the Englishman had hung up the phone, he looked back up at her. "I trust from your expression that this isn’t a social visit, only as you can see I’m rather busy."

"Yeah," Faith sauntered in and sat on the office’s empty chair. "G isn’t acting like him. He slapped my ass this morn’ and he keeps perving on Cordy."

Wes’ eyebrows rose. "And on that basis you decide he’s what possessed?"

Faith shrugged. When put like that it did sound rather shaky, but she knew what she felt. "I figured at first it was to do with the Council HQ bein’ blown to shit-."

"What!" Wesley’s eyes bulged, the colour draining from his face.

"Oh crap," Faith groaned. Usually her big mouth came in real handy, but not this time. "You didn’t know?"

"Of course not," Wesley shook his head. "I’m not an official Watcher of record after all. No-one would see fit to -."

"Look, just cut the pity party," Faith snapped. So, diplomacy wasn’t her thing. Who gave a flyin’ fuck? There was way more pressin’ needs. "’Bout Giles-."

"Yes, let’s sweep away hundreds of years of demon-hunting tradition for some ill-conceived theory about Giles’ sanity shall we?" Wesley snapped, a dark fire flickering in the Watcher’s eyes.

"Look," Faith hissed, her temper still raw from her wrench out of heaven. "I ain’t sayin’ your pain ain’t important, but there’s fuck all you can do about it right now. So how about a little focus-."

"Guys," Cordelia’s head bobbed through the door, "we’ve got a problem."

* * *

Tears streamed down Tara’s cheeks as she stumbled through the boarding house’s doors, she hadn’t bothered to call a doctor to Willow, just dragged her onto the bed. It was after all, some sort of mystical illness. "Tara!" Cordelia leapt up and hurried towards her. "What’s -."

"I’m just stepping out for a moment," Giles’ office door swung open and Tara reared back in horror as something other than the Watcher strolled out. "But don’t worry," her skin crawled as the Watcher leered at both her and Cordelia in turn, "I won’t leave you ladies alone for long."

"That wasn’t Giles," Tara whispered as the door shut behind the Watcher.

"I know he’s been acting-," Cordelia’s mouth opened. "Oh you mean he’s been Jean Greyed?" Tara stared at the former cheerleader. "My former boy-friend was a world-class geek, I picked up a little." Cordelia looked over to the chairs in the reception area’s waiting area. "You sit there, I’ll get Faith and Wesley."

The moment the trio strode out of the office, Tara began talking, explaining between sniffles about Willow’s sudden faint, and what she’d seen when Giles had walked past.

The moment she finished talking, Faith smirked up at Wesley. "Told ya so."

Wesley shot Faith an irritated glance. "What are you, twelve?"

"I was still right, wasn’t I?" the Slayer continued to needle the Englishman.

"Give me strength," Wesley muttered before turning to Cordelia. "Ms. Chase, could you ring the lads and arrange for them to meet us at Miss. Rosenberg’s dorm room?"

"You’re not leaving me here alone with him!" Cordelia hissed.

"Very well," Wesley looked towards Faith. "You stay here, we’ll be returning here anyway after inspecting Willow."

Faith’s full lips pulled up in a grimace but after a second she nodded. "Yeah, sure. But hustle. If G tries anything again, I’ll kick his nuts up into his throat."

Wesley winced. "I’ll bear that in mind." The Englishman looked towards her. "Shall we, Tara?"

* * *

"Well whoever did would have to be human," Wesley decided as he finished his examination of Willow. "I’m right in saying that Tara didn’t sense anything demonic?" The witch nodded. Wesley sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. "In that case I would have to guess a spirit of a deceased enemy familiar with the occult has possessed Giles."

"Catherine Madison’s got my vote," Xander mused. "Or it could be Ethan, ‘tho I don’t know if he’s actually dead. And I suppose trapped in a trophy doesn’t count as dead either. Snyder certainly had a hate-on for Faith and Giles, well all of us really, but he didn’t have much in the way of magical know-how. I suppose it could be one of those Initiative guys who ADAM turned. Maybe Dru, she had plenty of mystical power, but I’d hope we’d notice her possessing anyone on account of her being Lectar’s slightly less sane sister. Or Kendra, although I don’t suppose she holds much of a grudge against Giles. Tegan, now she had a grudge-." Xander stopped and looked at everyone staring at him. "What?"

Gunn shook his head. "I don’t know anyone who can make enemies like you folks."

"It’s a skill," Xander modestly admitted. "And you’re one of us too."

"Ah damn," the black groaned.

"Amusing as this all is," Wesley sniffed. "Who did it isn’t really important, just removing their presence from Giles-."

"What about Willow?" a still teary-eyed Tara queried.

"There’s nothing I can do, BUT," Wesley spoke up over the sudden uproar, "she’ll awaken on her own in forty-eight hours, I recognise the drug used. It’s a strong sedative with no known cure, but also no long-lasting effects, she’ll awaken approximately two days after she passed out with nothing more than a headache. "

Xander glanced at the peacefully-sleeping Wicca and then at Wesley. "About Giles?"

"Yes," Wesley stiffened his shoulders, "we need him restrained, and then I’ll complete an exorcism."

"Will Mister Giles’ head spin around?" asked a hopeful-looking Groo.

Wesley shot the others a suspicious look. "Who took Groo to see The Exorcist?"

* * *

All business in the bar stopped as he strode in. Ethan forced back a chuckle at the fear he read on the vaguely human faces of the bar’s clientele. Clearly Rupert’s reputation had spread even to this smoky, unhygienic hellhole. "Ladies, gentlemen, and anything that happens to be in-between, relax." He smirked. "Rupert Giles is under new management." Everyone stiffened when he reached into his jacket only to warily relax when he pulled out an envelope. "This is a banker’s draft," here was the irony, he’d filched the money from the Slayer’s account, money deposited there by his former friend, "for sixty thousand dollars." A murmur ran through the bar. "The money’s for anyone who’ll take care of the Slayer and her friends for me."

"No-one goes up against the Slayer, no-one smart anyhow!" commented a vampire in the bar’s rear.

"Ah, but the Slayer is vulnerable, not only is Rupert Giles not at the office, the red-haired witch is incapacitated, and only the other Watcher, the secretary, and the Slayer herself are at the offices right now." Another murmur followed his words. "Come now," he chided. "Faint heart never won small fortune."

"When do you want it doing?" growled a burly, grey-skinned demon he recognised as a Grappler demon.

Ethan forced himself not to back away when the demon rose and glowered down at him. "Oh, about an hour from now. I need to get some papers," there were a number of books that he could sell for a small fortune on the occult black market, "from the office."

"And you want them dead?" the Grappler queried, several of his companions rising.

"I really wouldn’t mind if they all died," he smiled. "I wouldn’t mind at all." But especially that bloody Slayer that had caused Ripper to desert his old drinking buddy.

"Agreed."

The Grappler reached for his draft but he stepped back. "Oh no, it requires cashing, I’ll meet you all back here in two hours, agreed?" The Grappler nodded slowly. "Wonderful. Then we have a deal."

Ethan was still whistling when he strode through the foyer’s entrance. Finding it deserted, he strode into his office. If the others had left, that would be unfortunate, but on the plus side, he could get the books without interruption and even keep the bank draft for hims-.

"Whistling the tune of ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go?’" a voice commented from behind. "I suppose that answers that. Hello Ethan, when did you die?"

"A few months ago, in a Wolfram & Hart holding cell, nasty buggers." Ethan turned to face Wesley, his fellow country-man stood in the doorway with a forbidding expression on his face. Sloppy, bloody sloppy. "Ah," Ethan forced a smile when the Slayer stepped into the room, fairly bristling with menace and bad intentions, "Miss Giles, every time I see you you’ve grown more beautiful."

"Cut the crap," seethed the curvy brunette, "what the fuck ya done to Giles?"

"Oh, I’ve rewired in here, such a messy attic his brain is," Ethan smirked suddenly, chances were his plan was shot to hell, but he could cause a little pain before he went, "and dirty too. Should any father have such unfatherly thoughts?"

"You bastard!" To his surprise it was Wesley rather than Faith who leapt across the room, catching him with a straight right to the jaw that snapped his head back and knocked him into the filing cabinets behind. The Watcher took his retaliatory left on his shoulder before kneeing him in the gut.

Ethan grunted as he doubled-up, a heavy book crashing into the back of his head and sending him to his knees. Ethan forced himself to look up and smirk. "The Grapplers I hired to kill you all should be here soon. I had planned to be miles away, but at least this way I’ll get to see the carnage."

"Thank you for the warning." Wesley’s downward swinging right smashed into his jaw, knocking him to the ground and flat out.

* * *

"Faith!" Wesley looked towards the shocked Slayer. "You know more than anyone how much Giles adores you, pull yourself together and get him strapped to Cordelia’s chair."

"Yeah," the Slayer shook herself, "I’ll get right on it, thanks Wes."

"Tara!" Wesley barked as he strode out to see the others coming out of his office where they’d been hiding. "I want you to block Ethan, stop him from accessing his magic. Now you’re more powerful, but he’s a tricky bugger, so be careful! Cordelia, you, Gunn, and Xander get any of the Grapplers that get past Faith and Groo before they get to Tara or I!"

* * *

Faith grinned as the door burst open and the Grapplers swarmed in. "Ain’t no-one gonna get past us," she confidently declared as she kicked the first in the face, knocking him back out as she rammed her elbow into the side of the demon to her left while decapitating the one to her right with a back-handed ax swing.

Blood splattering her, she ducked a haymaker and jammed a second elbow into the jaw of the demon to her left while kicking one to her right in the gut. Suddenly two arms gabbed her in a full-nelson, forcing her arms up as another demon charged her from the front. "Dumb," she kicked up and into the square-shaped demon’s chest, using the momentum to force the demon restraining her to crash to the ground, and rolling away and up into a cat-like crouch, the demon nearest her not even getting the chance to register her presence before her axe was slicing through his knees. And then she was reversing her swing and swinging up, cleaving another Grappler’s unfortunate’s face from chin up, another Grappler who leapt at her at that exact moment lucky enough to escape with a rib-cracking heel kick.

* * *

"So you’re going to exorcise me?" Giles’ gaze settled on him, eyes filled with scorn. "Roger’s boy?" Wesley flinched, Giles chuckled. "Yes, I have Giles’ memories. I remember all the dark rumours swirling around the Council, about you, about what a disappointment you were. One thing the rumours were never clear on is just how your father punished his worthless off-spring?"

Wesley flinched again, images of all the missed meals he’d been shown then told he couldn’t share, of the former cellar he’d spent hours locked in, and the thick leather belt his father used when he was especially disappointed or embarrassed by his son’s failings.

"Oh yes," Wesley looked up at Giles’ unGileslike laugh, soft and mocking, oily in a way a spilt tanker could never duplicate, "you remember."

Wesley looked up, a cold ball forming in his belly when he realised that the battle had stopped and everyone’s eyes was on him. Were they urging him to succeed or expecting him to fail? There was no way to know, nor was it really important, not now at least. "Yes," his back stiffened as he held out the crucifix and bible, "my father was forever disappointed by his wayward son. But I won’t fail them, not here, not now."

The possessed man screamed as he re-started the exorcism ritual, the lights flickering and furniture shaking in his temper’s wake, but Wesley continued regardless. And then it was over, the spell ended, Giles’ head slumping forward in momentary unconsciousness. Then the middle-aged Watcher looked up, eyes filled with horror. "Wesley-."

"I’ll be going home." Now unable to meet anyone’s eyes, he stumbled out of the office, shoving past anyone who tried to step in his path.

"Wesley!"

* * *

Wesley stared at the as yet unopened whiskey bottle sat lonely on the coffee table, a deeply ironic feeling assailing him. After all his lectures to Xander, he now found the urge, the need, to drown his humiliation in a binge. All his darkest secrets laid out for anyone he’d ever valued to see. If he just opened the damn bottle….

Except that never solved anything for more than the briefest moment and normally caused more problems than it solved or salved.

"Hey," suddenly a small hand snatched the bottle neck, lifted it, tore the top off and chugged back a long mouthful before returning the bottle to the table, "I let myself in," the denim-clad brunette unnecessarily explained as she dropped into the lounge’s comfy chair, legs casually crossed.

"And," Wesley turned his glare onto the unrepentantly smirking brunette, "helped yourself to twenty-five year old Scotch Whiskey!"

"I thought you English didn’t like the Scotch?"

"It’s the Scots and that’s not the point," Wesley exasperatedly replied before shaking his head. "Shouldn’t you be with Giles?"

"Gawd no," Faith’s dark eyes dimmed, "he’s doin’ the whole god I’m a terrible father routine, I ain’t got-," the Slayer shook her head. "You lit out of there like a bat out of hell."

"One doesn’t appreciate having their foulest secrets spilled out to all and sundry," Wes heard his voice tighten, but was unable to stop the instinctive defensive lash. "Nor does one appreciate having a child not in possession of all the facts come around to give me her august opinion."

"Fuck you." Wes’ stomach turned at the sudden hurt of rejection, something he’d seen in the mirror many a time, in the brunette’s luminous orbs. The curvy beauty rose. "You helped Xan when he needed it, I figured you might need someone to talk to. Should have known someone smart like you was too good to me!"

"No!" Wesley snapped before continuing in a softer voice. "It’s not that, you silly girl." His eyes remained fixed on the whiskey bottle in front of him. "It’s me, one doesn’t wish to have their darkest -."

"Fuck, Wes," the Slayer snorted. "You’re a smart guy, you still think it’s your fault that your pop was a limp-dicked ass who got his jollies beatin’ on a kid?"

Wesley looked up, eyes flashing in instinctive response to the insult to his ‘rent as these Americans put it. "I assure you-."

"Assure me all the hell you want." Faith picked up the bottle again and took another deep chug. Good lord, the girl could out-drink a shipload of sailors. Out-curse them too. "Fact is, he was the ‘rent, G taught me parents, real parents, don’t bully, they protect and love. Fact he couldn’t get the job done properly is down to him, not you."

Wesley forced a smile, maybe if he was polite she’d go, leave him to his brooding. "Thank you, dear-."

"Yeah, it don’t matter what anyone says," Faith continued over him, in-between gulps of his rapidly depleting whiskey, "you’ve still got that worm of doubt gnawing away at your belly, telling you you’re a worthless slut or asshole in your case. But think of all the shit you’ve done here, all the times you’ve saved someone’s life, or come through with the solution to a problem, or just told some bad-ass to go fuck themselves. Would a worthless asshole be able to do that?"

Wes’ smile was rather more sincere. "Thank you, dear."

"No probs," Faith shot him a dimpled, gleaming smile. "You know I’m taking the bottle, right?"

Wes chuckled. "I rather thought you might."

* * *

‘No-one should ever be afraid of power’.

Willow sat back, her lips pursed in thought, Ethan’s words resonating with her. It had been almost a week since Ethan had drugged her, but she still couldn’t forget their conversation. All the times Giles had warned her about caution, but she knew what she was doing. Nothing had gone wrong with the resurrection spell, it had brought Faith back. And if she could manage that sort of spell who knew what magic she could do.

Yes, Willow smiled, with her level of power, anything was possible.

Giles’ eyes glistened as he read the letter for the seventh time, still struggling to take in its words. It was definitely a situation where a ‘good lord’ would not suffice. He swallowed, forcing down the pain as he dragged his eyes away from the letter and stared at the ancient books the Mason & Rumpole courier had brought less than an hour. Some of the titles were familiar to him, although he’d believed all copies were either lost or the books were things of legend. Others were unfamiliar to him, but hinted at lifting the veil on mysteries he’d never thought solvable.

"’Vampyr-Origin, The Turok-Han Myth. The Slayer Genesis. Magics And Your Slayer, Which Spells React Best With A Slayer And How To Cast Them. Of Wolfram & Hart – Theories On The Senior Partners. Chaos, Order, And Their Champions. The Long Rule Of D’Hoffryn – Vengeance Demons Through The Ages. Chronology," his eyes widened, "Chronology of The Demon-Wars, Man’s Conquest Of Earth. The Primals – Beast Avatars & Their Worshippers. The Old Ones, A Compendium On The Demon Lords Before Man."

"Good lord." Giles sat back, eyes fixed on the books. If the wealth of information within the books’ yellowed pages came even close to matching the allure of their titles, why….. Giles looked up at the ceiling, eyes reaching up to the sky above. "Thank you, father."

* * *

"I don’t get it."

"Yeah, I’m kinda strugglin’ with the concept myself!" Faith nodded slowly as she joined Xander in staring at the customed scarecrows stood on the stage. They were all dressed in traditionally American costumes; a footballer, a cow-hand, and a Native American were just three of them on display on a stand at the back of Sunnydale’s largest church.

"It’s Halloween!" Cordelia snapped. "Gee! At least try and get festive!"

"Yeah, well they kinda freak me out," Faith muttered.

But not too low to prevent Cordelia from hearing and glaring at her. "I’m just trying to-."

"Honey," Gunn stopped her best friend with a touch to the arm.

"Yeah, yeah." Faith winced inwardly at her best friend’s sudden slump of the shoulders. Normally the waspish former cheerleader would be giving it to her with both venomous barrels, igniting one of their verbal sparring matches they both secretly loved, but ever since her return and doubly since Sweet’s revelation the gang were all on egg-shells around her while all she wanted was to try to get back to normal. Whatever the hell that was. "We might as well go on patrol." Cordy spun on her heel and started out.

"Damn it, C!" Faith snapped as she followed after her best friend. "Wait up!"

* * *

"Excuse me lad."

Gunn turned at the rattling voice behind him. The speaker was a tall, wide-shouldered man with a shock of wild, white hair, staring grey eyes, and a thin, harsh mouth. The man was dressed in puritanically drab grey suit, white shirt, and a black string tie all under an even darker full-length overcoat. "Yes sir," Gunn tried to stare the man in the eyes, but couldn’t, something about their intensity, compelling him to look away.

"That’s Faith Giles isn’t it? The Slayer?" The man raised a shovel-sized hand "Oh don’t worry, my grand-daughter fought at graduation with her. That’s her, isn’t it?"

"Yes sir," Gunn nodded uneasily.

"Ah, I thought so," the man nodded sagely before sticking out a hand. After a second Gunn took the man’s hand and shook it. "Nice to put a face to all the stories that my Eliza told me. I’m John Sparing by the way."

"Charles Gunn," Gunn found himself replying. "I could introduce you if -."

"No, no, no." The man smiled and shook his head. "I’m a little old to be introduced to ingénues."

"In-." Gunn’s eyes narrowed, uncertain as to if his friend or he had been insulted.

"Gunn! You coming?"

Gunn glanced over his shoulder at his girl-friend’s irritated cry. Cody had never managed to learn patience. "I’ll be there in a minute!" he called back before turning back to his companion. "Sorry," his voice trailed off when he realised he was talking to thin air, the man having apparently disappeared. "Weird." After a shrug, he hurried after Cordy and the others.

* * *

John Sparing stepped out of the shadows the moment the black had left, a thin smile playing on his lips as he gazed towards the exit. He didn’t like being in this place, the stench of self-righteousness and hypocrisy was almost enough to make him vomit and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. But for the Slayer, this Slayer he’d tolerate almost anything.

Aye, on the outside she was a foul-mouthed little trollop, but he could sense the inside, the pure heart that had gotten her to heaven once. And would again with his help. Yes, she was the one he’d searched for over four centuries.

But to accomplish his goal, he needed help. His eyes swivelled back to the scarecrows. "Ah yes," a broad smile stretching his mouth, "just perfect." He strode over to the stand and opened his overcoat, pulling out one of the many pouches dangling inside it and emptying its foul-smelling contents around the front of the stage.

"Excuse me!" He turned at a shout behind him, a short, fat priest with florid cheeks and an indignant manner waddling up behind him. "What do you think you’re doing!"

Sparing’s eyes flashed as he lashed out, his knife slicing into his berater’s throat, just below his triple chin. "Whatever I want!" The priest’s body hit the ground with a thump, blood pooling from his neck wound as he gurgled his death-breaths. "Quit it!" John hissed. "I need quiet to do this spell!"

* * *

Giles poked his head through the door to Wesley’s office. "I apologise for not turning in today, but something came up. Something, well," he paused, "perhaps you’d like to come around after patrol to discuss it?"

Wesley’s brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"

Giles chuckled uneasily. "To be honest, I’m not -," he glanced over his shoulder, "ah, the others are here. We’ll talk afterwards."

"Of course," Wesley nodded.

Giles strode out of the office to find Cordelia with a barely contained look of anger on her face. One which he chose to avoid enquiring about on the grounds he might get his head bitten off. "Are we ready to go?" he asked instead.

"Oh we might as well!" Cordelia snapped. "It’s not like there’s anything else we’d rather be doing apparently!"

Giles scarcely needed Faith’s urgent head-shake to tell him that questioning any further was unwise in extreme. Instead he looked towards Lorne. "You’re staying behind I trust?"

Lorne nodded. "I’m the Jordanaires to your Elvis, Watcher Man!" Giles stared blankly at the green-skinned lounge singer. The demon sighed patiently. "Your back-up? I’m going to practice a little, this building has amazing acoustics."

"Ah, yes, I’m sure." He looked towards the others, noting Groo hurrying in from behind. "Wesley noticed a suspicious death in the papers, the burial was at Restful Fields. Shall we head over there first?"

The cold night air was surprisingly chill and the atmosphere strained by what he’d liked to have believed was typical patrol tension. Unfortunately every night had been like this since the revelations surrounding Faith’s death.

Giles’ shoulders slumped. This secret enemy who had managed to strike at the Council so completely, Ethan’s possession, his father’s death, and from beyond the grave present, and Faith’s terrible ordeal had all combined to crush his will. "How ya doin’ G?"

Giles forced a smile as he looked at his concerned-looking Slayer. But at least he had her back, and still worrying about others. "A little tired, that’s all," he lied.

"’Kay," Faith nodded, troubled eyes still on him. "G, I know I ain’t been the easiest-."

"Nonsense dear," he squeezed his girl’s shoulder, "you have nothing to reproach-," his eyes bulged. "Good lord, what is that!"

Faith looked over her shoulder. "Holy shit! It’s the scarecrows from the fuckin’ display!"

Giles sidestepped one of the scarecrows’ charges, his backhanded sword slashing through the scarecrow’s head. Giles’ eyes widened, frozen with shock when the demon failed to fall. "Ooooh!" he grunted when the now headless scarecrow buffeted him with a back-handed slap to the side of the head.

Dazed, he fell to one knee, barely managing to sway away from the creature’s downward swing and block its knee on his elbow. The force of the impact knocked him onto his back, he kicked out, his feet crashing into the nightmarish creation’s shins, but it still came on, forcing him to roll away from a stomp. Giles scrambled to his feet behind a gravestone, grateful for the space between him and his seemingly indomitable foe. "Straw burns," Willow declared, the scarecrows attacking them suddenly bursting into flames.

"Thank you Willow," Giles nodded as he rose, ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, suggesting the witch had somehow used black magics. "Oh bloody hell," Giles looked around, eyes searching desperately but to no avail. "Where’s Faith?"

* * *

Faith leapt into a spin-kick, long locks trailing behind. "Shit!" She gasped as her lead foot flew through the scarecrow’s head and out of the other side without having any apparent effect, the scarecrow in fact looping a thick arm around her outstretched thigh and dumping her on her ass. "Shit!" she gasped as she kipped up into a hard elbow to the side of the head.

Her eyes widened as she saw an old guy blundering towards them. "Ah hell, civilians!" she ducked under a haymaker from the scarecrow before surging past it, kicking it in the back, and hurrying towards the man. "Mister, you need to get back to the senior citizen tour bus and fast!"

"Senior citizen?" the man shot her an amused glance. "You have no idea how right you are." Faith coughed as the man threw something gritty into her eyes, her vision suddenly blurring and legs buckling.

* * *

Lorne looked up when the gang crashed through the private investigations’ entrance, eyes widening as he noticed the one absentee. "Has lil blackbird flown off?"

"I won’t bloody lose her again!" Giles’ eyes spat fire. "Lorne, read me!"

"Sing away, mein leader," Lorne gasped at the Watcher’s reading. "Denzel," Lorne spun around to the tall black pacing the lobby, "tell them about the man you met who asked you about Faith." Lorne shook his head at the youth’s puzzled expression. "Time is of the essence, get to the talking." Lorne listened as the young man described the elderly man. "And his name?"

"His name?" Gunn’s brow furrowed. "John Sparing."

Wesley pursed his lips. "Why does that-," the younger Watcher’s jaw dropped open. "Of course! Stingy Jack!"

* * *

Faith groaned as she awoke to the sort of headache that usually followed a night drinking nothing but Tequila Slammers. Her eyes blinked open to find she’d been stripped to her bra and panties while some sort of liquid which she suspected was but really hoped wasn’t blood daubed on her midsection while she herself was tied spread-eagled to the floor, a pentagram painted on the floorboards beneath her, and candles surrounding her. Faith cursed as she strained at the ropes, muscles writhing, only for them to hold, whatever spell cast on her weakening her to normal levels. "Hey grand-pa," she spoke to the old man she recognised from the cemetery, "don’t ‘pose you’d help a girl out?"

"I’m afraid not dear," the old geezer leered down at her, "I have quite another use for you."

"Yeah that’s what I figured," Faith’s arms rippled as she tried vainly to escape her restraints. "Gotta tell ya, whatever you’ve got planned I aim to stop you and have a good time whupping your ass too."

"I’m going to use your pretty little soul to hijack my way into heaven," the man’s tombstone teeth flashed in the darkness, "and all I have to do is kill us both!"

"Um," Faith looked up at the man, realising for the first time in a long time she didn’t want to die. Life might be crappy, hard, and draining, but it could also be filled with laughter, companionship, and love. "I don’t suppose you’d consider going first?"

The old man laughed, ironic amusement dancing in his cold eyes. "I’m afraid not, ladies before gentlemen and all that."

* * *

"Okay, okay!" Xander’s temper snapped. "Why are we still here, when we should be looking for Faith, and who in the hell is Stingy Jack?"

Instead of answering him Giles looked towards Wesley. "You don’t -."

"Hey!" Cordelia slapped the desk. "Answer Dorkus and then we can get about rescuing our friend." Cordelia’s chest suddenly jutted out even further than normal and her air grew suddenly more haughty. "If that wouldn’t be too much to ask?" she sniffed.

"I’m so glad she’s on our side," Gunn muttered.

Wesley shot them a look even as Giles suddenly strode into the back where they kept the occult books and began sifting through the texts. "I’m sure you’re all aware of the Halloween tradition of Jack O’Lantern, the carved pumpkins you Americans have such love for at this time of year?" Wesley queried.

"We’re not eight, Wesley," Cordelia snarked.

"One could argue the point, but moving on." Wesley continued. "Stingy Jack was a miserable old bastard who lived in Ireland hundreds of years ago, a trickster, occultist, and black arts mage who preyed on the people unfortunate enough to live in the same county as him. But one thing he wasn’t was stupid. When the devil came to collect his soul for hell, he tricked Satan and made him force to promise not to banish him to hell. As a result, when the man died, he could get into neither heaven or hell-.

"Oh no," Xander gasped. He shook his head when his friends looked towards him. "Don’t you get it? He intends to somehow kill Faith and use her to sneak into heaven."

"Yes," Wesley confirmed his suspicion with a nod. "I don’t know how, but that’s probably why he showed an interest in Faith. He’s a very powerful and learned man, he’s had several centuries to examine and learn every method of mysticism there is – Romany, Tibetan, Drudic, Native American, every tradition there is. If there’s a way to do it, he’ll have found it. The Irish started a tradition of hollowing out turning turnips and the like on Hallow’s Eve, placing a light in them to ward off evil spirits and keep Stingy Jack away. These were the original Jack O'Lanterns. In the 1800s, waves upon waves of Irish immigrants came to America, quickly discovering that Pumpkins were bigger and easier to carve out. So they used pumpkins for Jack O'Lanterns."

"So he’s unkillable?" Gunn demanded.

"Yes. But not unstoppable," Giles walked in from the back, book in hand. "Lorne, the address?"

The demon rose. "We’re going to the abandoned lot on Forrester Way."

"We?" Giles queried.

The demon responded to the Watcher’s raised eyebrow with a nod. "We are."

Giles snarled as the doors to the abandoned lot crashed open. "Occupy them!" Giles pointed at the advancing scarecrows as he strode towards the back of the lot. "Greetings Stingy Jack," he growled. "You made a mistake coming here," he warned as he flipped open his book, "trying to hurt her."

"Well it’s about damn time!" Faith yelled from her position on the floor.

"And what are you going to do?" Stringy Jack laughed manically, dancing on the spot. "I can’t be killed, I’m already dead!"

"No dead man," Giles smiled, "I don’t have the power to send you to heaven or hell, but no one said anything about purgatory." The undead man’s eyes opened in horror as he began to cast, lips working in wordless plea, but Giles, no Ripper now, was remorseless.

"Aaaaaaah!" The man screamed as a swirling vortex appeared above him, his rangy body shuddering as two lightning bolts struck him then dragged the screaming body into the vortex.

Let this bastard’s demise be a lesson to anyone fool enough to try hurting his Slayer! Giles smiled fondly as Xander rushed past him and began untying the restrained Slayer.

* * *

"That spell you cast today was the darkest magics."

Giles looked up as Wesley walked into his lounge, his fellow Watcher’s expression’s grimly reproving. "Yes," he nodded, not bothering to even try and defend himself, "it was. My soul can withstand a little more sullying if it protects her."

"As you say." Wesley nodded uncertainly. "You asked me around because you had something to tell me?"

"Ah yes," Giles nodded. "I received a package of rare books in the post this morning. They’re why I rang in sick. They’re from my father, to be sent in the advent of his demise." Giles kicked himself mentally as his companion’s pained expression, belatedly remembering the rumours about Wesley’s tortured relationship with his father. However, he ignored that to plunge on. "I’ll let you have a look at them in a moment, but one has within it a theory on the Slayer Creation, that I just have to share."

"Please," Wesley nodded. "I admit to being intrigued."

"Apparently the Shadow-Men didn’t just use a demonic essence to create the First Slayer. Apparently there was also a sword called Meriones Merus-."

"Warrior Pure," Wesley unnecessarily translated.

"Yes," Giles nodded. "This sword is perhaps the basis for England’s Excalibur myth, Ulster’s Caladbolg, Wales’ Dyrnwyn, and any of the dozens of magical sword legends through-out the world. It appears an unnamed demon of pure light sacrificed itself to be bound into the weapon-."

"Good gracious," Wesley whispered. "You think that means an angel don’t you?"

"Possibly," Giles admitted. "The weapon was to be given to the Slayer, both to aid in her battle, apparently it had a number of powers including alerting the Slayer when danger is near-."

"Like Frodo’s Sting," Wesley reddened. "Good gracious, did I just say that?"

"We both heard you, so I’d be forced to conclude yes," Giles smiled. "Being indestructible and unwieldable by a person of ill intent. However, its second use is perhaps even more important-."

"It was to act as a counter-weight to the Slayer’s demon." It was Wesley’s turn to smile at his look of surprise. "It’s really quite obvious, yin to one’s yang so to speak. Whatever happened to Meriones Merus?"

Giles’ brow furrowed. "It’s theorised that the sword was stolen from the Slayer, either the First or a later one either by an enemy seeking to lessen the Slayer’s power or by the Shadow-Men because it interfered with the level of control they had over her."

"Hard to imagine Faith more independent-minded," Wesley chuckled.

"Yes but certain passages lead me to believe that the sword may well be in Sunnydale," Giles continued before bringing out the book and opening at a passage. "Read this."

"Of course," Wesley nodded eagerly, but that was hardly unexpected. One of the pleasures of such books were discussing them with like-minded individuals, and one could hardly discuss them without sharing them around.

After a few minutes his guest looked up. "We have to have Faith find the weapon."

"Of course," Giles nodded.

His guest placed the book aside before looking at him, eyes suddenly sombre. "I have news of my own, I’ve been trying to find a way of telling you this for a couple of days, but with the possession, and Stingy Jack I haven’t had time." Giles waited more or less patiently for his guest to continue. "It appears someone is killing the totem." Giles stared blankly at his fellow Watcher. "The Ra-Tet."

Giles grimaced at Wesley’s earth-shattering revelation. "The totem massacred?" He shook his head. "Truly we are at the End of Days."

Faith stalked through the town’s darkened streets, conscious that she was late for the urgent briefing Giles had called. She glanced at her watch and shook her head, Ancient History had run late, there’d been a helluva debate ‘bout whether the Carthaginians had really beaten themselves. And she just knew G would be all prissy ‘bout her bein’ late.

"And when Jehu was come to Jezreel, Jezebel heard of it; and she painted her face, and tired her head, and looked out at a window."

Faith stopped at a cold voice behind her. She turned slowly to find a square-jawed, cold eyed man with brown hair parted in the middle standing there. Faith put her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"And the LORD shall separate him unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant that are written in this book of the law: / So that the generation to come of your children that shall rise up after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far land, shall say, when they see the plagues of that land, and the sicknesses which the LORD hath laid upon it; / And that the whole land thereof is brimstone, and salt, and burning, that it is not sown, nor beareth, nor any grass groweth therein, like the overthrow of Sodom, and Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim, which the LORD overthrew in his anger, and in his wrath: / Even all nations shall say, Wherefore hath the LORD done thus unto this land? what meaneth the heat of this great anger? / Then men shall say, Because they have forsaken the covenant of the LORD God of their fathers, which he made with them when he brought them forth out of the land of Egypt: / For they went and served other gods, and worshipped them, gods whom they knew not, and whom he had not given unto them: / And the anger of the LORD was kindled against this land, to bring upon it all the curses that are written in this book: / And the LORD rooted them out of their land in anger, and in wrath, and in great indignation, and cast them into another land, as it is this day."

Faith’s brow furrowed. "This is fascinating an’ all, but I got places to be." She turned to leave.

"Why do you dress like a whore, girl?" the priest’s voice was like silk, clashing with his all-too sour words. "Letting everyone know you’re a bitch in heat with your make-up, too-tight pants, and revealingly cut top!"

"Yeah, whatever," Faith pushed her clenched fists behind her back, only the man’s dog collar stopping her from slapping the asshole silly. "These streets aren’t safe after darkness," she warned. "Ya better hurry back to your church and find yourself a nice choir-boy." Spinning on her heel, she continued on her way, her temper heating with every step.

* * *

"Limp-dicked mother-fucker!"

Giles jumped as the boarding house door slammed shut behind his daughter, the entire building seeming to shake with the impact. He’d been planning to reprimand his girl about her tardiness, but now concern replaced his disgruntlement. "Are you alright, Faith?"

"Yeah," Faith’s full mane bounced as she nodded and dropped into her waiting boy-friend’s lap, "I just ran into this evangelical weirdo on the way in, figured he could lecture me on what I wore!"

"Imagine."

Giles’ lips pulled up into a half-smile at Wesley’s sarcastic mutter. "Why did you call us here, sage Rupert?" queried Groo, the powerfully-built hybrid perched on the arm of the sofa that Cordy and Gunn were sat on. "You said you had matters of great import to discuss?"

"Yeah, you and your fellow Watchers’ auras are Technicolor," Lorne chuckled. "As in I’d have to have dropped acid with Janis Joplin to see auras like that normally."

Well that was reassuring. Giles cleared his throat. "Wesley," he looked towards his compatriot, "could you start?"

"Of course," Wesley sighed wearily. "Faith, could you stop eating Xander’s face for just five minutes, please?"

"Wes," Faith shot the Watcher a saucily cocksure look, "you and I both know your lectures take waaaaay longer than five minutes."

"That’s as maybe," Wesley shot Faith a glare. "But this is important. I have information that someone is murdering members of the Ra-Tet-."

"Oh no," gasped Willow, the face of probably the only person in the room outside of them that had any clue what the Ra-Tet was paling.

"The Ra-Tet is an order of five beings linked to an embodiment of the Egyptian sun god Ra, each representing a stage of Ra's daily journey across the sky." Wesley explained before any of them could question. "The Ra-tet is a mystical order of five enormously powerful, apart from the neutral totem who reputedly represents man, immortal beings who are "totems", or symbolic manifestations of the Egyptian god, Ra. Two are light, one is neutral, and two are dark. Each individual contains special talismans to protect the sun and represents a stage in Ra's journey across the sky. In addition, each of the totems in the Ra-tet also represents a point along the spectrum of good and evil, with the morning totem being the most benevolent and the evening totem the most malevolent. Together, the five totems create an embodiment of the god Ra, each of them are needed to perform spells affecting the sun." Wesley paused. "Don’t let there be any misunderstanding, whatever creature has managed to slaughter several members of the Ra-Tet must be extremely powerful because the Ra-Tet are themselves not be trifled with."

Willow raised a hand. "You mentioned spells? What sort of spells?"

"Well," Wesley glanced at him and then back at the listening audience, "this was a matter of some discussion between the two of last night. We decided the spell is most likely the casting of eternal night."

"Turn the town into a goddamn vampires’ playground," Gunn snarled.

"The world actually," Wesley corrected before continuing. "The spell will initally only affect the area over where the spell was cast. However make no mistake, the spell will spread until it covers the entire world."

A long silence followed Wesley’s dread proclamation, the terrible words sinking in. "We best hustle then," Faith rose, purpose in her dark eyes. "Find the rest of the -."

"Wait," Giles raised a calming hand, "there’s another matter."

"Jesus," Faith scowled as she dropped back into Xander’s lap. "It never rains, it fuckin’ pours."

"On the contrary, this matter is good rather than bad news," Giles countered. "I recently came into the possession of some rare books-."

"Good news for you dusty Watcher types, the rest of us, yawn, yawn," Faith interjected.

"These exceptionally rare tomes," Giles took the high road this time and completely ignored the Faith Giles Comedy-Hour, "detail certain previously unknown facts about the Slayer." He smirked at Faith’s sudden stiffening before continuing. "Including but not limited to a mystical sword called Meriones Merus."

"Say what?" Xander piped up. "My Latin’s not too great."

"Neither’s your English, but I love you for your body," Faith gently slapped Xander’s face.

"Warrior Pure," Wesley translated before he could. "Apparently the weapon has certain powers that would be beneficial for Faith. Furthermore, according to prophecy, the weapon will be here, hidden in one of Sunnydale’s churches."

"Gee Wes," Cordelia sniffed, "narrow it down why don’t you? Sunnydale’s got what thirty churches!"

"Heh," Faith shook her head, "no problem, we’ll split into two gr-."

"No," Giles shook his head. "You can’t split up, apparently the weapon will only be initially visible to the current Slayer, something about it reacting to its mate’s presence."

"Mate?" Faith’s eyes gleamed saucily. "Just what do you think I do with my stakes anyhow?"

Giles shuddered. "Please, Faith." Truthfully it was good to see his daughter returning to something approximating normal, but there were limits.

"’Kay," Faith’s smirk told him the girl knew full well she’d scored a point. "Where should we head first?"

"Wherever you wish, do half the churches tonight, the rest tomorrow," Giles looked towards Tara and Willow, "girls I’d appreciate it if you stayed behind and assisted Wesley and I in researching Meriones Merus further?" Giles glanced towards his library. "There may be some oblique references to it in our other texts."

"We’d love to!" Willow squeaked.

"Watcher’s pet," accused Cordelia.

* * *

"Anything?" Xander whispered.

Faith shook her head as she allowed her eyes to follow her torchlight through the darkened church. "Just a shit-load of cobwebs, man whatever they’re paying their cleaners, it’s way too much." Faith glanced at her boy-friend. "How many churches is this?"

"Seventh," Cordelia replied. "We’ll never get fifteen done tonight."

"I know," Faith sighed. The others might be with her, but according to what G had said, only she could look, so it was taking a helluva long time to look through each church. "Three more and we’ll head back, do the rest the next two nights."

"Cool," Gunn grunted. "Let’s get out of here. I swear I saw a rat scurrying in the shadows."

"A rat!" Xander shot the African-American a shocked glance. "Why didn’t you say so?"

"You two," Faith shook her head and grinned, "you’re such girls!"

"That’s an insult to the fairer, brighter sex," Cordelia complained.

"Yeah," Faith threw her head back and chuckled. "You’re right, let’s hustle."

Faith’s eyes narrowed as they exited the church, her gaze stilling as it came to rest on the weird sight heading towards them. "What the fuck?" she whispered, this was off.

The preacher from before was there, leading a mob carrying blazing torches, placards, and pitchforks. "There she is, the whore of Babylon and her followers, fresh from desecrating another of God’s buildings!" the man hollered. "And lo he said onto us, that should one smite at you and your faith, you should smite them back with the Sword Of God. I say these defilers of our lord should die, what do you say?"

"DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!" The mob’s hysterical screams were chilling in their hatred.

"Faith," Faith started slightly at her boyfriend’s whisper, a single glance confirming her friends had formed a tightly-packed square around her, facing the mob, "what the hell is going on?"

"I don’t know," Faith shook her head, even for Sunnydale this was weird. Gathering herself, she stepped forward, hands out-stretched and eyes wary as she stopped before the braying mob. Braying mobs, always fun. "Look we don’t want any trouble."

"You’re the dirty one," the priest sneered. "So full of good intentions betrayed by your base nature."

"Yeah," Faith was gettin’ real tempted to slap the priest silly. Telling herself that doing so would only inflame the situation, she opted instead for a soothing tone. "Whatever. Look we don’t want any trouble, we’re just on our way-."

"The other one thought she was good," the preacher continued over her. "But it availed her nothing when she faced the judgment."

‘Other one,’. The world seemed to slow to a crawl, the mob’s yells seeming to turn from deafening to just background noise. Faith licked her suddenly dry lips, wanting to deny it but knowing instinctively what the ‘man’ meant. "Other one?" she croaked.

The preacher’s sudden smile confirmed it before his words did. "Other girl who thought she could rise up, do men’s work, be filled with a demon to fight demons. It does nothing but corrupt!"

"You son of a bitch!" Faith drew back and threw a hard right that cracked into the man’s jaw.

The priest’s head snapped back then turned to face her, his smirk widening. "This godless harlot would hit a man of the cloth. Rend them from limb to limb!"

"Oh shit!" Faith gasped as the priest threw a backfist at her. Faith moved under the blow, only peripherally aware of the chaotic violence erupting around her, before attempting to dart in close to the preacher. "Ahhhhha!" Faith screamed as the priest drove an elbow into her upper back then gasped as he snatched a handful of her full mane and yanked her straight, his knee crashing into her gut.

"You burn with righteousness," Faith heaved and gasped for air as the priest backhanded her across the face, blood spewing out of her mouth, "but you’re naught but a match against the encroaching darkness-."

"I’m tired of," Faith blocked the priest’s second blow on her forearm before kicking out, her heel snapping into the man’s knee, staggering him, and yanking her hair out of his grasp, ignoring the pain of the few strands torn from her scalp, "hearing you yap, padre!" Faith leapt forward, her head crashing into the priest’s mouth, blood spewing from it, as she followed up with a flurry of right and lefts to the body, each punch finding its way home. "Never was one for the good book!"

"Some will never hear the words to live by," Faith gasped as the preacher suddenly righted himself, grabbed her around the throat and lifted her up off the ground, "until after death!" Faith’s hands lunged up to grab the holy man’s wrist, her legs grapevining around his arm and twisting to the side. The priest gasped as she writhed loose, dropping to the wet tarmaced ground in a crouch. "Fancy, God may work in mysterious ways," Faith just managed to block a knee to the face on her arms, the impact knocking her onto her back, Faith allowing the blow’s momentum to carry into a backwards roll and onto her feet, "but I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy." Faith bent down under a haymaker and drove her own elbow into the padre’s side. Faith’s lips parted in a grunt when the priest’s knee landed in her chest, driving the air from her lungs, her hands just a split-second too late to grab the leg before it withdrew. Faith forced herself to straighten, the priest catching her with a right to her left ear with enough force to send her partially and temporarily deaf.

"Fuck," Faith groaned as she fell to the ground, barely having enough left to roll away from the priest’s attempted stomp to the face. Faith heaved and gasped as she felt hands on her arms pulling her away from the super-powered priest. "Let me at him," she mumbled through bloodied lips.

"Painted harlot!" The priest laughed, his mob having been beaten into retreat by her friends. "Have you not learnt humility?" The preacher’s face sobered, something chilling lurking behind his pupils. "You will, before the end."

* * *

"Giles!" Giles looked up at Willow’s cry. "I think I’ve found something."

"Think?" Giles reluctantly put his own text down.

"Yes, think." The witch’s face flushed indignantly. "My Akkadian isn’t as good as yours. What with it being a dead language."

"Yes, yes, I apologise," Giles nodded. "Please go on."

"This book says the Slayer’s sword was crafted to end ‘her’ reign, only-."

"Only what?" Wesley impatiently queried.

"Only," Willow shook her head, "it doesn’t specify who ‘she’ is or was."

"Ah," Wesley chuckled, "the vagueness of prophecy, what fun-." His fellow Watcher’s voice trailed off. "Good lord, what happened!"

Giles’ heart dropped as he watched his battered-looking charges hurrying in through the lobby, Cordelia pulling the bar across the door, and a barely conscious Faith supported between Xander and Gunn, her arms around the young men’s shoulders.

"Good lord," he echoed Wesley’s earlier gasp, "what happened to Faith?"

Xander looked at him, fear in the usually stalwart youth’s eyes. "Something bad, something real bad has arrived in town."

* * *

"Come in," Manners growled at the knock at his office door. It was late, but while idle hands might be the devils’ playground, his own devilish work kept him very busy.

"We have the sword," Cyvus Vail retorted as he entered, the elderly demonic warlock supporting himself on the IV stand wheeling by his side, "I just teleported it in and checked its authenticity myself."

"Excellent," Manners chuckled. Having the most powerful seers in the world search for the weapon had neatly side-stepped the problem of only the Slayer being able to find the weapon. They hadn’t found a way to sidestep the problem that only a person with ‘good intent’ could use the weapon, but he had confidence that they would. And until then, at least the weapon was out of the Slayer’s reaches.

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