"So," Faith pouted and whistled, her dark eyes taking in every detail of the blood and viscera soaked room, "anyone else thinkin’ we should be lookin’ for a fan of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, ‘cause this is gory."

"Yes Faith," Giles grunted, "very helpful." The first Midnight Assembly in centuries, a unique chance to study some of the most influential demons in this dimension at first-hand, and all ruined. Worst, if the killer wasn’t found, he hated to think on how it would rebound on them. Giles glanced towards Wood, the younger Watcher’s Slayer stood protectively by his side. "Who’s room was this?"

"Give me a second." The African-American glanced at his clipboard then up again. "It was -."

"Taparrich, a Mok-tagar." Everyone turned to the thick-set Liaison framed in the room’s doorway, Giles noting that the executive looked disgustingly fresh despite the lateness of the hour. "Fortunately the Mok-tagar clan don’t have many holdings on this dimension, and were only invited for propriety’s sake. Nonetheless we have a problem-."

"It’s certainly a problem for him," Xander grunted.

"Although chances of a reprisal by the clan itself are relatively small," Hamilton smoothly continued on over Xander, "there is the high possibility that any one of the other demons represented here might attempt an attack-."

"Attempt is right," Gunn glared at the executive.

Hamilton once again continued as if the interruption hadn’t happened. "Either using the attack here as an excuse, out of genuine fear that they might be next, or to score points with their fellow clans, or to possibly conceal their own part in this murder. You must solve this quickly to prevent the Assembly falling into chaos."

"Gee, how do ya figure we do that, Sipowitz?" Cordelia snarked.

"First," Giles spoke before Hamilton had chance to respond. "We’ll build up a list of suspects, every one of the delegates of course. Then we’ll have to work out which of them had a possible motive to attack-."

"And the two Slayers," Hamilton interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Faith’s comment was polite enough but Giles could hear the venom that dripped from every syllable.

"Slayers don’t need a reason to kill a demon, that’s their reason to exist." And he was sure Hamilton could too, but to his credit the liaison’s smile didn’t move an inch. "And look at this," the executive’s eyes dispassionately scanned the carnage, "the demon was torn limb from limb, clearly a creature with immense strength did this."

"We don’t rip things to pieces like this, we could for the quick kill, this sorta mess is hell on a wardrobe," Faith’s smile was stony, "course in your case I could be ‘suaded to make an exception."

Hamilton answered Faith’s smile with one of his own. "I’m only here to pass on the Senior Partners’ concerns and to request you expedite this matter."

"Expedite this matter?" Faith snarled as the door clicked shut behind the liaison. "One day I’ll expedite this matter -."

"Perhaps such threats should wait until we’re sure exactly what he is," Wesley commented.

Faith glanced at Giles’ fellow countryman. "Any movement on that front?"

Wesley grimaced. "I’ve been utilising Wolfram & Hart’s library to research him, but there’s no mention of him in any of the texts. I can’t help but think any mention may well have been censored out. I’m going to have to reach out to old sources."

"Do that," Faith looked back towards him. "Any thoughts on how we’re gonna solve this mess, Sherlock?"

"Well my dear Faith." Giles half-smiled. "First we have to check out all of the delegates’ alibis. Willow, I want you to have your people run a full forensics sweep through here immediately and have the report on my desk before the end of the night."

"Before the end of the night?" Willow let out a half-squeal. "That’s not much time!"

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Then I suggest you’d better get on with it." The moment Willow and Tara had rushed out of the room, their hands diving into their jackets for their cells, Giles looked towards the others. "Faith, you and Wesley will run the interviews," he glanced meaningfully towards the Slayer, "together." His eyes moved to Cordelia. "Cordelia, you organise the interviews and get hold of the building’s tapes, Xander and Gunn I want you to check them out. Wood, you and Rona will be on duty ensuring there’s no problems-."

"What about the Potentials?" Faith shrugged when all eyes turned to her. "Hey, if I was figurin’ on hitting the Slayer and had enough resources to go round, I’d take out as many Potentials as I could?"

Oh bloody hell, Giles grimaced as his daughter’s point hit home. "Very well." His shoulders slumped. "I’ll baby-sit." Giles skewered the Bostonian with his eyes the infernal girl snorted, a smile tugging at her full lips. "Not. A. Bloody. Word."

* * *

"Giles! I’ve been looking through the guest lists and something very interesting has turned up!"

"Oh yes?" Giles forced a patient smile as he looked towards Vi. The red-haired Potential was the only one of the girls not wrapped up and snoring in their bedrolls on his office floor. Instead, she’d eagerly insisted on helping him. She was if nothing else eager and for that alone he could force away his usual irritation at being interrupted. "And what would that be?"

"Well I was looking up the Mok-tagar clan’s history," Vi excitedly continued. "And they had an altercation over land with the Fell Brethren in the 14^th century. Eventually the Fell Brethren bought the land, but I bet there was some resentment over the matter."

Giles smiled encouragingly at the girl. He doubted it was anything, but at least the Potential was showing willing. "Well done Violet, I’ll pass this on to Faith and her team."

His words were rewarded by a proud smile. "I’ll keep looking, see if I can find anything else, W&H’s library is extensive."

"You do that," Giles agreed.

* * *

"You cannot think to investigate us! You who after all are a hunter of us people!"

Faith rolled her eyes at Archduke Sebassias’ rant. In her view the asshole was posturing for his audience, the rest of the delegates gathered in the conference room. "Just sit down," Faith growled.

"And why do you think I should little girl?" Sebassias sneered.

Faith’s eyes narrowed. "You kinda just forget who this little girl is you-."

"Archduke," Faith grunted as Wesley interrupted her, "you’ve made various demands that this heinous crime be investigated. Now, how can you reasonably expect us to investigate the crime if you refuse us access?"

"Investigate! Investigate!" Sebassias snorted and pointed at her. "You have your mad dog stood beside you!"

"Mad dog?" Faith grinned coldly. "How about I show you just how much of a bitch I can be?"

"That will be unnecessary," the blue-skinned demon known as Boone suddenly commented. "Cease your prattling, Sebassias and allow the girl to ask her questions." Boone rose with a sniff. "I will be the first to answer any of your questions and then I will help you police these-."

"Turn against your own would you Boone?" Cyvus’ words came out in a rattling hiss.

Boone chuckled as he glanced dismissively towards the demon mage. "I was never one of you Vail, nor would I want to be."

"And I," Drogyn rose, his eyes purposeful, "will guard this room while you are gone."

"I just love how we’ve got like a family vibe here," Faith announced to the tense boarding room. "With you all, it’s the Addams family, but it’s a start!"

* * *

Rona prowled the darkened corridor, Wood to her left and behind. It was weird being here, in amongst all these demons, including many Faith had previously fought like the Sisterhood of Jhe, Varahall, and the Scourge, all making for a very tense atmosphere. And she was only now getting used to her new Calling, and being in close proximity to the notorious Scooby gang.

Rona’s head furrowed. She might have initially disdained the unconventional Bostonian, but she’d been forced to rethink that after Faith had so convincingly kicked her ass. And her cohorts might not have any powers, but they’d all achieved plenty and stood with the Slayer for longer than many Slayers managed to survive.

Maybe a Slayer shouldn’t work alone. Maybe the now-defunct Council hadn’t been right about everything.

Rona stopped as she struggled with these new and rebellious thoughts, an indefinable sound reaching her ears. Rona glanced towards Wood, her hand coming up, signalling her Watcher to a halt. Rona hefted her sword as she crept towards the corridor’s corner, her heart thumping and mouth dry.

Then she leapt around the corner to find herself confronting a trio of cowled Purpurea demons, the same race as Archduke, creeping through the darkness. "Oh hell!"

* * *

"I will not answer questions from you, human scum!"

Faith smirked at the General of the Scourge, unfazed by his hostility. Instead she leaned over her shoulder and glanced to her right where Wesley was sat. "We have this little game we sometimes play, good cop," she pointed towards Wes, "bad cop," she pointed to herself, "worse cop," she pointed over the General’s shoulder, who turned to see Boone stepping out of the corner’s shadow. "Still don’t wanna talk, General?"

* * *

Rona glided under an axe swing, her foot crashing into the demon’s midsection, knocking the demon back a step. The demon’s axe came down in a cleaving swing, but she was already around it, her sword snaking up to slice into her rival’s neck.

Even as blood gushed out, she was yanking her blade out while simultaneously leaping away from another Purpurea charging in with a pair of short swords flashing diagonally and downwards. Rona twisted in and out of the twirling blades, eyes never leaving her adversary as she sought an opening.

Then she saw it, stepping inside the two flashing swords, she brought her own blade down in a backwards diagonal slash into the demon’s hip. The Purpurea let out a ragged cry as its leg shattered, the demon stumbling backwards as its leg gave away. Rona yanked her blade out of her rival’s hip and slashed across the demon’s neck, blood spurting out as he hit the ground. Rona spun around to deal with the third demon in time to see Wood slaying the third.

"These are the same demons

* * *

"I am happy to answer all your questions."

"Wicked," Faith beamed at the figure sat opposite. "First question," she pretended to glance at the notes before her then looked up, "what’s your phone number?"

"I hate to be caught up in this," Wesley shook his head. "You have no idea how much. But don’t you have a boyfriend?"

"I’m flexible," Faith winked at Drogyn. "Very flexible."

Drogyn’s mouth opened and shut. "I can only apologise-."

"Hey," Faith glared at her companion, "you don’t need to apologise for me. What’s wrong with a lil harmless flirting?"

"Nothing you do is harmless," Wesley replied. "Your bristols should be registered as deadly weapons!"

"I just knew you were noticin’ -."

Faith spun around as the door crashed open only to relax when Rona rushed in. "We’ve got a lead!"

* * *

Xander glanced at Gunn. "Nothing on this tape either. This is more boring than home movies."

"If your home movies aren’t exciting, you aren’t doing it right," Gunn laughed at his own joke then stopped. "Wait, there’s something here."

"What?"

Xander rose from watching his TV screen and peered over the black’s shoulder as he rewound his tape. "Look," Gunn pointed at the screen, "that door opens and shut but no-one opens it."

"A draught?" Xander shrugged. "So what, I had one on a tape I watched -." Xander’s jaw dropped together with the penny. "Oh boy, whoever did this is invisible."

* * *

"You have no right to march me in here!"

Faith flashed the Archduke her teeth. "Quit the posturing, your audience isn’t here." Faith cracked her knuckles. "Which means I can do what I want and then drag your battered ass out there for all your cronies to see."

The Archduke sneered at her. "You’ll find that rather more difficult than you think, child."

"Yeah?" Faith rose. "How about we-."

"Faith, please," Wesley interrupted. "Archduke, you’re hardly in a position to protest. Need I remind you, three of your people were found by Faith’s fellow Slayer-."

"And killed!" The Archduke bristled.

"That’s what generally happens when you find hostile intruders," Faith commented. "So they were the killers, right?"

"No," Archduke shook his head and crossed his arms.

"You gonna tell us what they were doin’ here?" Faith challenged.

"I do not need to answer your questions!" the Archduke snapped.

"Very well," Wesley nodded. "Then I’ll go and inform your fellow Assembly delegates that we caught a trio of your people coming in to assassinate the-,"

"You can’t do that!" the Archduke roared.

"Yeah?" Faith smirked. "Rules of evidence don’t really apply here. Spill."

"My men weren’t initially planned to be here, but when this murder occurred I took advantage of the situation-."

"The situation you were so angry about," Faith snarked.

The Archduke glared but continued on. "To have my men rifle through my allies’ rooms and see if they could find anything incriminating or useful to my negotiations."

Faith glanced at Wesley who nodded slowly. "Very well Archduke. You can go."

* * *

"Here’s that fluids report you asked for, Ms. Rosenberg."

"Thanks Knox," Willow beamed at the scientist. Cordelia said she found him creepy, but to her Knox was nothing less than well-organised and efficient, if a trifle self-effacing.

Willow’s eyes narrowed as she went over the report. "Tara," Willow glanced at her girl-friend working at the other side of the desk, "I’ve got something."

* * *

"We’ve-." Giles raised a hand to hush Willow when she burst into the office with the sleeping potentials. "Sorry," the excited-looking red-head beckoned him to the door. "But we’ve found something."

"Oh?" Excitement quickened his blood as he crept through the bedroll-strewn floor, closing the door behind him. "And what have you found?"

"Most of the blood in the room belonged to Taparrich, but he wounded his attacker. I checked the sample against our files and the blood belongs to a Garnok."

"Oh good lord," Giles swallowed. This was good news, but on the other hand Garnoks were amongst the dimension’s most notorious demons. "Well done, Willow. Now I need you to get the others."

* * *

"The Garnoks revel in carnage and destruction-."

"So they’re Motley Crue fans?"

Giles shot Faith an exasperated glare as he continued. "They’re also demons of an immense power and durability, that also have a great deal of magical knowledge."

"Hence why you couldn’t see them on the CCTV and why they didn’t set off our magical sensors," Wesley said with a look towards Xander and Gunn.

"’Kay, so we know who it was, question is what we’re going to do about it?" Faith queried.

"Firstly, I cannot emphasise how much of a danger this Garnok, Sahjhan, is. He’s far beyond the danger of any vampires you’ve faced, and is perhaps on par with the likes of ADAM or Caleb."

"Way to build my confidence," Faith’s snark sounded hollow to him.

"However, we have more than one Slayer here, in addition we have Boone and Drogyn." Giles smiled encouragingly. "We also have a plan."

"Keep talkin’," Faith replied.

"Thanks to the lab work done by Willow’s department," Giles nodded towards the red-head, "we have enough of a blood sample to do a summonsing-."

"I say," Wesley interrupted with a worried look that darted from Willow to him. "As I said Garnoks have a lot of magical power, he could very well attempt to resist the compulsion."

"No," Giles shook his head, his nonchalant expression hiding his unease, "Willow will link the spell’s to Wolfram & Hart’s latent power, not even a Garn-."

"Oh bloody hell!" Wesley exploded, eyes wild with fear. "And let’s not forget just what sort of power that is, you don’t get much blacker than Wolfram & Hart!"

"And yet, we’re all workin’ here."

Giles ignored Gunn’s drawl to stare at his fellow Englishman. "While Willow is casting the summoning spell, Tara will cast a cleansing spell through Willow -."

"P.T. Barnum never had such a delicate balancing act in his circus," Wesley snorted.

"That’s as maybe," Giles replied. "However it is the only solution. We intend to cast the spell tomorrow night, culminating at the exact moment of Taparrich’s murder where the link with the murder is at its height, and the amount of power needed to drag Sahjhan here is at the minimum. I intend to have the summoning done in the reception area with the members of the Midnight Assembly there to witness our justice-."

"They won’t like being put in the firing line," Wood commented.

"No, I don’t suppose they will," Giles smiled. "However, none of them will protest, they’ll be too afraid of looking afraid in front of their counterparts. And a number of them are considerable powers, together they’d have more than enough firepower to deal with Sahjhan." Although not much of the building would be left standing in such a confrontation. "And so, it’ll fall to Faith, Rona, Drogyn, and Boone to destroy him while the Midnight Assembly watches."

"Hey!" Predictably it was Xander who protested. "Didn’t you forget somebody?"

"Xander," Giles forced his irritation under control. "I didn’t forget you, you, Gunn, Wood, and Cordelia will be guarding the Potentials in my office. And before you protest, I wouldn’t give a Special Forces team good odds against this demon!"

"You’re a real woman-motivator, G," Faith drawled.

"You know I wouldn’t give a Special Forces team good odds against you," Giles replied without taking his eyes off Xander. "Xander, you and Gunn are well-trained and more than competent of taking on your regular vampires. But part of being experienced is knowing when you’re over-matched and that your presence will be more of an hindrance than a help."

Xander opened his mouth then nodded grumpily. "Thank you, now that’s settled." Giles rubbed at his eyes. "I suggest we all get some sleep and ready ourselves for tomorrow."

* * *

Faith’s heart raced as Willow’s spell reached its conclusion, the air seeming to crackle with energy and foreboding. "Whoa!" Faith swayed then re-balanced when a dark typhoon began swirling around the reception area, the entire building seeming to shake.

Then lightning flashed and a hulking figure appeared where the typhoon had been. Long, straggly hair covered a pale face, haunting eyes glaring out from under the strands. "Why am I here!"

The demon’s voice boomed out, his voice a throaty rasp of a demon used to intimidating. "Because of your butchery of Taparrich," Giles’ voice was unruffled, but the Englishman was careful to keep a good way back from the demon. "Why did you kill him?"

"Why?" The demon threw his head back and roared out a laugh. "Because I could! We, the Garnok, are always the excluded, so I sought to disrupt your Midnight Assembly." The demon’s face suddenly hardened. "So now I’ll have settle for," he pulled a pair of swords out from under his dirty trenchcoat, "massacring it."

"I think not," Giles looked towards her.

Faith lunged forward, sliding a back-handed slash to hack at the demon’s torso. Sahjhan spun away from her attack while parrying an attack by Rona, the force of his parry staggering Rona. Boone lunged forward, his fist swinging up in an uppercut.

Boone roared in agony and sparks flashed when Sahjhan parried Boone’s metal-coiled fist with his sword, the blue-skinned demon fighting off his pain to fling an overhand right that Sahjan pulled his head away from while thrusting his blade up and at Boone’s unprotected belly.

Drogyn’s blade crashed into Sahjhan’s just inches from Boone’s torso. And then the former Round Table knight was gliding between Boone and Sahjhan and beating the towering demon back with a blurring attack of swordplay that had Faith struggling to keep up. "Oh yeah," Faith muttered, "that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!"

Drogyn’s sword thrust up at Sahjhan’s throat, the demon only just managing to pull his neck down, while seemingly simultaneously managing to manage a slash at his belly and writhe away from the other blade cleaving down at his skull. First confusion then rage then fear entered Sahjhan’s eyes as Drogyn forced him back. Faith saw it probably before Sahjhan did, the demon hyper-extending himself as he lunged forward, Drogyn stepping around the thrusting blade, kicking Sahjhan in his forward knee, the demon falling forward, and into a back-handed slash that separated head from body.

For nobody moved or spoke after the demon hit the ground, then Giles turned to the watching Midnight Assembly delegates. "Now that unpleasantness is over with, I believe we have negotiations to complete?"

The house was shrouded in silence and cloaked in darkness, nothing inside it moving. And then a window splintered and knifemen slid in, their knives thrusting down and into the woman slumbering in the bed, blood gushing all over the sheets.

Faith gasped as she shot awake, sheets falling off as she wiped at the sweat soaking her forehead. "Oh shit! Not again!"

* * *

"I had another dream last night," Faith announced as she strode into Giles’ office. "And not one of the fun ones where I’m being finger-cuffed by Brad Pitt and George Clooney!"

"Finger-cu-?" Giles shook his head and shuddered. "Never mind, I don’t want to know."

"Probably a smart decision," Faith smirked at her dad as she dropped into the seat opposite him. Her smirk disappeared as she sobered. "Has Wes been able to find anythin’ out yet?" Giles shook his head. "Any chance that W&H might be in league with the First?"

"Historically all we’ve been able to find suggests the two entities while sharing many of the same goals are bitterly opposed to one another," Giles replied. "However, that could be propaganda or a deal could have been done in recent years."

"What you’re sayin’ is you don’t know?" Faith sighed as Giles nodded. "Jeez, Watchers, never say what they mean in six words when they can use twenty!"

"Thank you, Faith," Giles grunted.

Faith grinned at her Watcher’s irritation. "Aaaaah, poor little Englishman, is du nasty Slayer picking on you?"

"That’s the worst baby voice I’ve ever heard," Giles complained.

"Xander likes it!" Faith’s grin widened at her Watcher’s sudden paling. "Don’t worry, no details." Faith sobered again. "I figure W&H might know more than they’re telling us. We need to look outside."

"I wouldn’t argue with that," Giles agreed. "I’d suggest sending Wesley to look, there’s a few sources open to us former Watchers."

"Yeah," Faith nodded, "but send Wood with him too, he might need some back-up. After all, I’m so little work," Giles snorted derisively, "I’m sure you can manage bein’ Watcher to two Slayers."

"Oh yes, you’re positively a dream," Giles sniffed.

"Believe it or not, not the first guy to say that," Faith replied.

Giles rubbed at his forehead and sighed. "If you leave me in peace, I’ll call Wesley and Wood into my office."

"Leave me in peace he says," Faith sighed and fluttered her eyelashes. "It seems like only last week I was sat on your knee, happy as could be." Faith grinned. "Oh wait, it was only last week."

Giles shook his head and laughed. "Just go, you bloody hellion!"

"Sure," Faith leapt up, "I’m teachin’ the Potentials this mornin’ anyway."

"Shop-lifting? Truancy? Bedevilment?"

* * *

Giles chuckled as his daughter closed the door behind herself, his heart warming. She’d grown so much from the suspicious waif he’d first met. "God," he shook his head, "it’s what eight years ago? Bloody hell, time flies." His smile widened. Perhaps time had flown because of all the pleasure and pride she’d given him, filling a hole in his life he hadn’t even known was there before she’d entered it.

Giles looked back towards the door as Xander strode in, a rare nervous look on the youth’s face. "Ah, Xander, what can I do for you?"

"I um, I need to ask you something." Xander started searching through his jackets as he continued to babble. "It’s tradition you see. And I want to do things right, she deserves it. Ah! Here it is." Giles’ eyes widened as the youth pulled out a small box. Oh bloody hell, this was out of the blue. "And I want to do things the right way."

"Are you sure about this, son?" Giles queried, his throat suddenly tight with emotion.

Xander shrugged. "I love her. I know she could do better-."

"Nonsense my boy," Giles forced away a smile. "I mean you’re not English, but no-one’s perfect. Just promise me you’ll look after her."

"Of course," Xander nodded jerkily.

"I assume you have everything planned." The boy nodded. "Then as her father I demand my right to see just what you’re intending to put on my girl’s finger."

* * *

"Yes," Wesley nodded as he talked on his cell and walked through the reception area, "I agree Robin, however, these are Slayer dreams and shouldn’t be discar-." His voice trailed off and his face paled as he recognised a figure by Cordelia’s desk. "Oh bloody hell. I’ll call you back." Hanging up his cell, he strode over to the man stood by the desk, a short, solidly-built man in his early seventies stood ramrod straight with a forked grey beard and an aristocratic manner. "Father, you didn’t call to say you were visiting?"

"Father? It’s true then," Cordelia raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And me and Faith thought you’d be grown in a test tube."

His father’s eyes blazed as they looked at him. "Is this the sort of discipline you have here Wesley? Does the hired help often talk to you in such a manner?"

Seeing the fire in Cordelia’s ears, Wesley sought to head off an eruption the sort of which hadn’t been seen since Vesuvius. "Cordelia isn’t a member of staff, she’s a member of our team," he retorted. "And furthermore I find treating people with respect works rather better than high-handedness."

"Huh, another of your namby pampy ideas," Roger dismissed his words with a shake of his head. "A firm hand works far better than honeyed words!"

As if father would know anything about honeyed words. Seeing that Cordelia was still looking as if she was racing towards a Chernobyl-level nuclear reaction, he grabbed him by his elbow and dragged him towards the office. "I’m sure Giles will be more than happy to see you."

"Oh somehow I doubt that."

* * *

Giles’ eyes widened as his office door swung open after a solitary knock and a harassed looking Wesley led in his father. "Ah, Roger, a pleasure to see you again," he lied.

"Is it?" Roger sniffed. "I wish I could say the same, but Wolfram & Hart, really Giles?" Roger shook his head. "I always knew you’d be trouble after your partnership with Rayne, but I even I never dreamt you’d fall to these levels."

"Yes," Giles replied as he struggled to contain the urge to lay the nut on the older man, "after all I’ve only assisted in saving the world over half a dozen times and helped my Slayer and her friends eliminate countless deadly demons. I’ve been nothing less than mediocre." Giles glanced to Wesley. "I’ll discuss our business later."

* * *

"Of course," Wesley grimaced as the man who respected more than any strode out of the office. "Father," he turned back to his parent, "was that really necessary?"

"Pffft," Roger waved away his comment. "The man’s an undisciplined rebel who’s failed to properly train his Slayer-."

"Oh please Father!" Wesley let out a dismissive laughed. He knew his father wouldn’t appreciate it, but he couldn’t help it. "Lest I remind you, that improperly-trained Slayer has more vampire kills than any in recorded history, has lasted longer than 99% of Slayers, and foiled more apocalypses."

Roger waved away his words as if they were of little importance, just the way he always had when Wesley had been a child. "I’ve not come here to discuss Giles, he’s lost to us. As you know, the Watcher’s Council was destroyed last year. The remaining former watchers, myself included, have decided to reform the council, and I've been sent to contact you."

Wesley blinked. "Are you saying the Council wants me back?"

Roger shrugged. "Not necessarily. Your name's proven to be a point of contention. There is some who believe that your tenure as Austin-Meadows’ Watcher ranks as our most embarrassing failure."

"Really?" Wesley couldn’t help but laugh. "I beat out dying in an explosion as most embarrassing failure?"

His father glared at him. "Friends and colleagues lost their lives in that event, Wesley. A little respect. "

Friends and colleagues who were content to hide behind young girls, scant respect was deserved. Still, Wesley managed a curt nod. "Sorry."

Roger returned his nod with one of his own. "The council have agreed to take you back, pending my assessment. I'm here to evaluate you."

"I see." Wesley shook his head before heading to the door. "Well, I'll save you the trouble. I'm not interested."

"This is no time to be stubborn, boy. The council are giving you a chance to clear your name... our name. "

Wesley gritted his teeth, that was what it was always about with his father. Appearances. "Sorry you made the trip, but I’m perfectly happy where I am."

"In this axis of evil?" Roger doggedly followed him out of the office.

"We’re using its resources to do something the Council forgot about in all its politicing, helping people," Wesley replied as he entered the elevator, heart sinking as he belatedly registered Lorne’s presence. "Hello Lorne. Father, this is Lorne, the head of our entertainment division."

"Ah, Mr. Pryce," Lorne beamed. "You look like Winston Churchill and a young Richard Hurt met and had a beautiful love-child." Wesley groaned as Lorne laughed. "Which rumour has it, might not be too far from the truth."

"Ah yes, an entertainment division," Roger sniffed. "Of course you know W&H helped launch William Shatner’s singing career?"

Wesley looked towards Lorne who shrugged. "Sorry."

"Where are we heading?" His father looked towards him.

"To see

"Ah our prickly flower, you never know if you’ll get a petal or a flower," Lorne reminiscenced. Wesley pleaded with his eyes for the demon to stop helping him.

* * *

"So remember," Faith dabbed at her sweaty forehead, perspiration sticking to her lycra shorts and cotton crop top, "your weapons in a fight aren’t just limited to your body. Use your environment. If you’re in a gym, throw a dumbbell, shove a heavy bag at them, push a bench over in their path. If you’re in a kitchen, throw a saucepan of hot water in their face. A garden, rip out one of the fence’s pickets to use as a stake. Anything can be used as a weapon, just use your imagination." Faith turned at the sound of the gym opening behind her. "Hey," she nodded at Wesley, "you runnin’ the senior citizen tour now, Wes?"

Wesley groaned as his elderly companion bristled. "I am Wesley’s father, young," the man sniffed, "lady. And as a Watcher, I expect to be treated with respect."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" She wrapped her towel around her neck. "How’s that expectation workin’ out for ya?" Faith took pity on Wesley when he groaned again. "Hey," she stepped towards the older of the two Englishmen with her hand out, "Faith."

The Englishman’s nose wrinkled as he took her hand and shook it. "I’m sure my son has more important duties to carry out, perhaps I can ask you to give me the guided tour?"

Faith glanced at a harried-looking Wesley. Taking pity on the man, she nodded. "Yeah, just give me five to get changed."

"Of course, Ms. Lehane," Roger glanced around. "Perhaps your fellow Slayer can show me what you’ve been teaching our next generation of Slayers?"

"Sure," Faith’s eyes narrowed. It was almost like the old bastard was scoutin’ the Potentials to see which one would be most likely to be Called.

* * *

"So that’s the Archives Department," Faith finished as they exited the library. "Any book you Watcher guys want, they’re there."

"I find those Templates tremendously worrying," Faith glanced at her companion. "That’s a great deal of dangerous information to have in the wrong hands."

Faith’s eyes narrowed, thirty minutes with this horse’s ass and she could see why Wes grew up with an Everest-sized complex. Asshole picked at everything and anything said, nothing was ever good enough for him. What she couldn’t see was how Wes hadn’t killed him by the time he reached his teens. "Yeah, but we’re not the wr-."

Faith’s head snapped around as sirens began blaring. "Trouble, I best get you somewhere secure ‘fore I go investigate."

"Lead the way dear." Faith stepped in front of the man, her eyes widened as a feeling of wrongness filled her. "Shi-." She’d half-turned to face the man behind her when something heavy crashed into her head and something sharp pricked her neck. Her legs suddenly gave under her, pitching her to the ground. "What?" Faith looked blankly up.

"The drugs are a stronger version of the Cruciamentum drugs outlawed by those liberals in the Council for a few centuries," the Englishman explained as he picked up her weakened body. "They decided the possible side effects were too much to risk. But they were perfect for our needs." Faith attempted to raise her arms but was helpless to struggle as Roger carried her towards the nearest elevator. "Even if the drugs caused any permanent damage as they did in one in six cases, you won’t live long enough to worry about them."

* * *

Wesley hurried out of his office and towards the sound of fighting. His heart caught as he saw his father dragging a glazed-looking Faith into an elevator. "FATHER!" He raced to the elevator only for it to close in his face.

A terrible sense of foreboding filled him as he raced towards the stairway. What had his dad done to Faith? And didn’t his father realise just what Giles would do if he hurt just a single hair on her head?

He was sweating and his legs burning by the time he’d run up countless flights of steps and burst out onto the building’s roof to find his father edging a strangely feeble-seeming Faith towards the rope-ladder of a hovering helicopter, the copter’s rotors whirling in the air. "FATHER!" He roared, voice hoarse with fear.

Roger spun to face him, an automatic’s gleaming steel muzzle pressed into the side of Faith’s head. "Walk away from this, Wesley. You'll never understand what we're trying to do here."

"At a wild guess you’re a member of the Shadow Council we’ve been hearing rumours of slaughtering demon enclaves," Wesley pulled out his own gun but stopped twenty feet away from his father. "We had been wondering if you were enemies or allies. I suppose we have the answer now. The only question is what do you want with Faith?"

"Faith?" His father shook his head. "This freak of a Slayer? You should check your black magics. There’s a spell that if you have a Slayer who’s no longer the Slayer, something that is mentioned in the Council’s Hidden Histories as having happened twice in the previous millennium, where if you kill her under certain conditions, you can force the Calling into a previously identified Potential of your choice."

Wesley stared at his father in horrified disbelief, his father had always been a cold fish, but this was a whole new level of ruthlessness. "You’re going to murder Faith so you can get a Slayer of your own?"

"You always thought so small, so limited in your feeling." Wesley’s heart shrivelled at his father’s cold smile. "We’re going to kill her, resuscitate her, and kill her again, until we have an army of Slayers!"

Wesley’s world crashed in at his father’s calmly-delivered ruthless barbarity. "No, you’re not. I won’t let you." He raised his gun and pointed it. "She deserves better."

"She’s nothing but a tool!" Roger chortled. "Now don’t be a fool Wesley, you don’t have the will."

"Perhaps not but," Wesley shook his head, "all I really need is," Faith’s glazed eyes met his, he nodded, "the bullets." Faith flung herself to the roof’s gravel as Wesley pulled his automatic’s trigger twice in fast succession. The air exploded to the bullets’ crack, his father’s head snapping back with their impact. Bile rose in his throat as his father fell, vomit spewing out of his mouth to splatter the stones beneath his feet. His eyes widened in shock as sparks ignited, revealing the wiring in what he’d believed to be his father’s head, the crackle of electricity filling the air.

* * *

"Are you alright?"

Faith smiled as Xander rushed into her office, looking all cute and flustered, a bandage around his head. "Drugs are mostly worn off now, doc says I’m gonna be cool," Faith replied before pouting, "you get a whack on the head, Xan?"

Xander grimaced. "One of the cyborgs threw me into the reception desk, Cordelia’ll be complaining about the dent forever." Xander half-danced from foot to foot. "I um have somethin’ to tell you, I don’t know what order to go in."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Beginning’s always a good place to start."

"Yeah, right," Xander let out a nervous laugh. "I was thinking of going with Wes and Wood on their trip."

"What?" Faith couldn’t help the piteous cry that escaped her. "You can’t!"

"Faith, there’s nothing for me to do here," Xander shrugged. "Gunn can do our job on his own just as well as with me." Xander half-grinned. "He’ll probably do it better."

"Screw your fuckin’ job!" Faith’s throat was so tight she felt like she was chokin’. "I need you!"

Xander blinked uncertainly. "And I need you too. But Wes and Wood’s mission might turn out to be dangerous and they need all the back-up they can get, besides I get the chance to tra-."

"If you wanna break up!" Faith snapped, her heart raw with pain. "Just say the word and don’t dance ‘round the fuckin’ houses makin’ excuses!"

"Break up?" Xander shook his head, mouth dropping open. "No, I don’t want to-." Xander shook his head. "This is all going wrong." Xander reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a blue jewellery box. Faith’s jaw dropped as Xander went down on one knee. "This morning I asked Giles’ permission if I could ask you to marry me." Faith managed a low gasp when Xander opened the box to reveal a gold band with a circular ruby in it. "Faith Giles, will you," Xander swallowed, "marry me?"

"Oh Xander!" Faith husked as she threw herself at her boyfriend grabbing him in a hug as tears blurred her vision, her heart seeming to swell in her chest until it was gloriously painful to breathe. "Of course! Of course!"

"Good," Xander wheezed, "then if you stop splintering my ribs with your Slayer strength, maybe I can put your ring on?"

"Oh!" Faith released her grip and jumped back. "Sorry." Faith looked down at her hand. " What youse waitin’ for, put my rock on."

"Yes dear."

* * *

Wesley stared at the phone, mouth suddenly dry with terror as a voice answered. "Hello, Mother, it's me. No, everything's fine. I was hoping to speak with Father, actually. Yes, all right." Several seconds passed, then his father answered. "Hello, father, how are-." He winced as his father let out a bombastic roar. "Oh, I didn't realize it was so early there. I've had a bit of a-. Of course we have clocks in Los Angeles. Listen, I wanted to-." He glanced up as fingers pressed down on the rest, disconnecting him. "I say, I was-."

"Tryin’ to connect with someone who treats you like crap," Faith interrupted, "when your friends, the people actually care ‘bout you want you to come out with them and celebrate mine and Xander’s engagement."

"Engagement?" Wesley looked at Faith. "When did this happen?"

"’Bout fifteen minutes ago," Faith pushed her hand into his face, "look at my rock, ain’t it pretty?"

"Indeed it is." Wesley looked down at the suddenly ringing phone, heart sinking with the realisation that it was his father ringing back to demand just why they were disconnected. Forcing a smile, he looked towards Faith. "Where were we?"

"You’se were just congratulating me on Xander’s amazing taste," Faith prompted.

"Ah yes," he rose and hooked arms with the Slayer, "and commiserating you on your own terrible taste."

"Yeah, even I have to have a flaw," Faith agreed as she guided him to the office exit, the phone ringing dwindling into the distance. "Still everyone says it’s character-forming."

* * *

"The Slayer is still free from our control?" He shook his head and scowled at his junior’s report. "That is unfortunate, but we have other resources. We’ll continue building our forces, and then when we’re ready we’ll strike again."

"She cannot continue to be free, she’s an example of all that was decadent and corrupt of the old way," agreed the man sat to his left.

"If we are to cleanse the world of the demon taint those who would stand in our way should be dealt with," agreed the man to his right.

"Patience," he counselled, "striking out of anger will only result in us revealing too much of ourselves. Better to lie in wait, concentrate on other targets, then return when she is least suspecting."

"Wipe them all out at once?" a man further down the table suggested.

"Indeed," he nodded gravely. "Perhaps our plan’s flaw was in its lack of ambition. None of them would accept our ascendancy over them, they all need to be dealt with."

"The boarding house’s last occupants turned it into a detective agency if you can believe that," the immaculately-coiffured realtor snorted. "Yes, this place has had quite a history, Mr. Holmes."

‘Arthur Holmes’ nodded. "I can imagine, the price is quite reasonable too. I assume you’ve no problem with me having my own surveyor doing a report?"

"Why should I?" the realtor flashed him a gleaming smile. "The place is in magnificent condition. Whatever you think of detective agencies, the previous owner kept the place in fine shape."

"That they did," he agreed, lips tugging as he thought of the memories, the adventures they’d all had here. In his estimation they needed a place to meet where they could be safe from Wolfram & Hart’s prying eyes, and now that his father’s estate had been settled he had the money to buy his own place from himself under an assumed identity, and the basement would be perfect for clandestine meetings.

Hide in plain sight indeed, not to mention a wholly fitting return to their old haunts. "You’ve done well here, Rupert," he muttered under his breath.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Holmes?" the realtor queried.

"I was just saying my surveyor will do his report tomorrow. If that’s satisfactory, I’ll meet you a week today to sign papers, would that be convenient?" Giles queried then smiled at the salesman’s eager affirmation.

* * *

Devon, England

Wesley’s heart thundered as he pushed the cottage’s front door open, its creak sounding deafening in the day’s taut silence. His heart skipped a beat when the door at the hall’s far end likewise creaked open, only to relax when Xander stepped into view. He signalled for his companion to follow him, then crept towards the lounge door, every step taking a seeming eternity, a terrible stench getting stronger with every step. By the time he’d reached the door, the smell and terrible silence told him what he’d find inside, but he opened the door anyway.

"Jeez," he almost jumped at Xander’s whisper behind him, "whoever did this had a real Freddy Krueger moment didn’t they?"

Wesley nodded numbly as he grimly surveyed the room. Blood soaked the walls and carpet, the dismembered remains of the room’s three occupants sprawled throughout, the stench of death hanging heavy in the air. "Yes," the word struggled to escape his tight with horror throat, "it would appear they did."

"Should we check upstairs?"

"No," Wesley shook his head, "whoever did this-"

"Had to be those Bringers," Xander interrupted.

"Probably," he nodded. "But whoever it was won’t have left anything behind. This is too brutal to be the work of amateurs. They had their orders and carried them out with a certain amount of relish. Let’s get out of here and back to Robin."

"I hear that," Xander agreed before backing out of the lounge and back into the darkened hallway. In just a few moments they were outside of the house and breathing in rather fresher air as they hurried up the path. "Your parents live near here don’t they? We could pop in for a visit if you want?"

Good lord, Wesley shuddered at the very thought of his father getting a chance to belittle one of the Scoobies. Blood on the carpet indeed. "Actually, my parents live across the country in Sussex, rather than Dorset."

"Oh," Xander nodded, "I just thought you might want to after that thing with the cyborg."

"Yes most thoughtful," Wesley nodded. "However we can’t afford the time, we have leads to follow-," his eyes widened, "what the bloody hell is Wood doing?"

Xander’s eyes widened. "Bringers!"

* * *

Sunnydale Bus Station

"I don’t see why we have to be the welcoming committee," huffed Cordy as she pulled her coat around herself.

"It’s probably ‘cause you’re known for your welcoming nature," Gunn riposted. "Least those are the rumours, don’t believe ‘em for a moment though."

Cordy shot him a glare. "What’s the name of these girls anyway?"

"Huh," Gunn reached into his jacket and pulled out a fax, "Chloe and Eve," Gunn passed the fax over, "there’s their descriptions and photos."

"That makes what ten girls?" Cordelia queried as she looked over the list.

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, and there’s groups coming from Canada, Africa, Europe, and South America."

"Just as long as Willow and Tara do the next meet and greet," Cordelia grumbled.

"Oh I’m sure Giles won’t want to scar ALL our new Potentials," Gunn replied. Cordelia’s mouth opened in a doubtless withering reply, but Gunn interrupted her before she could get a word out. "Looks like they’re here." Gunn nodded to a pair of scared-looking girls climbing off a recently arrived bus.

"No Watcher?" Cordy shook her head. "As if my opinion of them could get any lower!"

"Look on the bright side," Gunn said as he started towards them, "they could be dead."

"If I ever meet them, they’ll wish they were," Cordy darkly promised.

Gunn smiled. That was his girl, outwardly as self-obsessed as you could get, but if you hurt someone who couldn’t protect themselves, then watch her protective side come roaring out. "Hey," Gunn stopped in front of the two nervous looking girls, taking the fax off Cordy and passing it to Chloe, "we’re the welcoming committee."

"And not the only one," Cordy pointed over the girls’ heads, "those Bringer guys Faith told us about."

"Oh boy," Gunn swallowed. "Get inside where it’s light and ring Faith, tell her to get here fast."

"Stay safe," Cordy warned.

"Sure honey," Gunn eyed the two Bringers heading towards him, one to his left, the other to his right. "Workin’ on it."

* * *

Wood glanced at the house as he ruminated on just how quickly his life had changed. From the studious son of a Slayer, reared in the best Council tradition to working with the notorious Scoobies, the most reviled rebels in Council annals. And yet, despite or perhaps even because their balking of tradition, they were arguably the world’s most effective demon-hunting unit, and most importantly the best chance his own charge had of a lengthy -.

Wood swallowed as he saw the four Bringers sneaking up on his car through the rear-view mirror. His options were limited, he could drive off and leave his friends to it, he could stay in the car and be trapped, or get out of the car and face them. "Talk about Hobson’s Choice," he grunted as he reached under his seat and pulled out the blade secreted there before kicking the door open and climbing out, his hand slamming down on the car horn as he did so.

The advancing quartet reared back in shock, Wood using their momentary retreat and his blade’s greater length to lunge forward and thrust his blade at the nearest Bringer. Blood flew as his sword tore a slice off the Bringer’s left cheek, the injured demon staggering backwards, knife-filled hands reaching instinctively to his wounded face allowing Wood to thrust down and into the demon’s gut, yanking his blade out as blood blossomed on the creature’s dark robes.

Wood spun to face a demon rushing around his falling comrade only for Xander to crash into the demon, his swinging axe forcing the creature into a rapid retreat. Wood swung back left in time to be hit full on a Bringer leaping off the hood of a sedan and onto him, the blow’s impact knocking him into a garden bush. Wood let out a desperate gasp as he twisted left to avoid a knife thrusting at his belly, his own sword swinging up in a back-handed slash that the demon managed to block with his other knife. Heart pounding, Wood pushed his feet against the bush and shoulder-charged the slighter Bringer in the chest.

The Bringer stumbled back, a skin-crawling grunt escaping his tongueless mouth, but immediately jumped back at Wood, his daggers flashing in the dwindling sunlight. Wood sidestepped the attack, his own blade flashing up. Steel sliced through flesh, blood arcing out to splatter his front while out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wesley drive a knife through the left sewn-up eye of the last of the Bringers.

"The mystics?" Wood gasped as he quickly wiped his sword clean on the second of the Bringer’s robes. "Are they dead?" His heart sank at Xander’s grim nod. "What next?"

"I have other sources," Wesley stoutly replied.

"And what do you think their life-span should be measured in?" Xander grunted. "Minutes? Hours?"

"If things are that urgent, then less time should be spent talking and more hurrying," Wesley fired back.

"Oh you’re all sunshine and jelly these days aren’t you?"

* * *

Gunn swallowed, forcing himself to relax as his two adversaries crept closer, eyes shooting from the one on the left and then to the one on the right. Let them make the first move, every second they waited was a second more-

Gunn leaned back when the one to his right darted forward, his lead dagger slashing downward, then himself lunged forward, stepping outside the dagger and grabbing the demon’s wrist. The moment his fingers encircled the demon’s wrist, he yanked hard away from himself and reached up with his free hand to grab the bringer’s cowl, shoving the demon into the other bringer’s path.

The two demons crashed into one another and fell against the bus’ side. Even as they struggled to disengage from one another, Gunn leapt forward, re-grabbed the demon’s forearm and yanked it back while snatching at the demon’s elbow and snapping it forward. Bone splintered and tendons tore, the demon sagging into a kick to the belly. Gunn’s fist crashed into the side of the demon’s head, snapping its head against the bus’ side with a thud.

Gunn lunged at the demon’s dropped knife only to leap back when the other demon lashed at him. Gunn dropped into a crouch and grinned at the remaining bringer. "One down and one to go."

The Bringer lunged forward, knife slashing at him. "Aaaah!" Gunn fought back the urge to recoil as the blade slashed across his upper left arm, blood flying. Instead he lunged inside his adversary’s reach before the Bringer could pull his arm back and rammed his knuckles into his opponent’s throat.

The Bringer began to stumble backwards but Gunn was remorseless, ramming his right shoulder into the Bringer’s chest. The demon fell into the bus side and bounced off it into a straight right to the face, nose bone crunching under the impact.

Gunn looked down in disdain as the Bringer hit the dust, only now allowing the pain to sear through his arm. "Damn," he stomped hard on the Bringer’s throat, "amateurs."

* * *

"I just heard, how’s Gunn doin’?" Faith queried as she entered Giles’ office.

Giles glanced up as Faith sat. "Six stitches, but he’ll be fine in a few days."

"Cool," Faith half-grinned, "just don’t expect to see me ‘round here ‘til he heals up."

"Afraid of Cordelia?" Giles teased.

Faith’s grin widened. "Nah, just smart." Faith’s smile disappeared. "So we’ve got Bringers in Sunnydale," Faith shook her head and leaned forward. "I ain’t happy ‘bout that."

"No, that does concern me," Giles broke off as the door opened again and Hamilton walked in. "Mr. Hamilton, I trust you have the information I requested?"

"It’s all here Mr. Giles," Hamilton put a piece of paper on the desk.

"Hammers ol’ boy," Giles heard the seductive danger in his daughter’s purr, "you wouldn’t know anythin’ ‘bout these Stevie Wonders wandering ‘round stickin’ knives in my buds would ya?"

Hamilton couldn’t have failed to hear the latent menace in the Bostonian’s voice, yet he seemed to be unaffected by it. "Not until Mrs. Chase’s call came through informing us of the attack," Hamilton smiled. "However, at Mr. Giles’ request I researched to see if any land has recently become infertile-."

"What’s he talkin’ ‘bout?" Faith looked quizzically towards him.

"Bringers have a certain reputation," Hamilton answered before he had chance. "Anywhere they make a base in numbers for a long time becomes infertile, trees, plants wither and die."

"So?" Faith snapped impatiently.

"So," Giles lifted the piece of paper Hamilton and passed him, "this is the address of a local plant nursery that was recently forced out of business because nothing would grow on its ground."

Faith’s brow furrowed. "So-," Faith’s eyes widened, the spark of realisation gleaming in them, "you figure they’re under the plant nursery?"

"Precisely," Giles nodded at Hamilton, "thank you."

"Ms. Giles," Hamilton nodded at his daughter, "always a pleasure."

"Likewise," Faith drawled. The moment the door closed behind Hamilton, Faith turned to him. "Think he knew they were in town?"

"It’s a possibility," Giles replied, "but I’m rather more worried how the Bringers knew Gunn would be meeting the girls at the bus station. The only people who saw the fax were yourself, Cordelia, Gunn, and I."

"So what you thinkin’?" Faith asked.

"I can only conclude the fax is somehow bugged, every fax that goes through Cordelia’s machine, possibly goes through a second machine," Giles replied.

"We could always replace it, problem with that would be they’d only bug that one too," Faith looked around. "’Course there’s another possibility."

Giles nodded. That his office itself was bugged. He couldn’t help but think if he had it swept on a daily basis, they’d only re-bug it. "What do you intend to do about the Bringer nest?"

Faith’s nose wrinkled. "I was figurin’ on takin’ Rona down there and evictin’ the assholes."

Giles felt a stab of fear even as he gave a business-like nod. "Well be careful."

"I was talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ with Rona the other day," Faith said, "figured I should ask your opinion?"

"My opinion is wanted?" Giles affected a shocked look. "I’m taken aback."

Faith glared at him. "You know, you ain’t half as funny as you think you are."

"You’ve said that before," Giles smiled before spreading his hands. "Please, what’s your problem?"

"Ain’t a problem as such," Faith replied. "It’s just we were thinkin’ that maybe the Potentials should patrol?"

"Ah," Giles leant back in his seat, all semblance of amusement dissipating, "quite a dilemma. Very well. Select the Potentials you think suitable, but only take them on run of the mill patrols, and only when both you and Rona are in attendance."

"Sounds like a plan," Faith rose. "I’ll go and get Rona, and deal with those assholes."

"Be careful, there’s always the possibility that Hamilton has fore-warned them," Giles warned.

* * *

Faith crouched by the cave’s entrance. "You figure this is the entrance?" Rona asked.

"Yeah," Faith glanced up at the barren land above them as she pulled out a pair of flash-bangs, "I’d look away, this is gonna ruin their day." Faith flung the flashbangs down the tunnel. "Come on!" Faith raced down the narrow passageway, dust kicking up as the passageway levelled off into a wider chamber, Bringers staggering around.

One lunged at her, Faith smoothly sidestepped the downward arcing dagger, her blade coming up to punch into the man’s throat, blood bursting out of his mouth. Faith wrenched the blade out and glided around the dropping demon, foot swinging up to crash into another’s torso, knocking him on his butt as her blade flashed down and into his skull.

Another flashed a back-handed dagger at her, but she dropped into one knee beneath the swing and thrust up into his belly, the Bringer crumpling under the blow as she pulled out and darted to the left, putting the dropping corpse between her and another on-rushing Bringer. The Bringer stumbled over the corpse and into her upwards-swinging attack that sliced the demon’s head off. Another charged at her from the right, Faith leapt to meet him, foot coming up in a side-heel kick that crashed into the demon’s chest and knocked him into the wall. The Bringer’s dagger lashed left and right at her, Faith parried the attack on her sword and punched around it. Her fist collided with the demon’s face, knocking him back into the wall and kicked him in the crotch, doubling the demon up and slicing into its neck from behind.

Spinning around, she saw Rona was chopping down the last of the Bringers, the cavern’s walls and ground splattered with crimson. Suddenly weary, she grinned at her fellow Slayer. "Let’s get out of here, Ron. Wanna get a beer on the way home?"

Rona shot her a look that was half-surprise, half-shock. "Mr. Wood says-."

"Mr. Wood ain’t here, come on."

* * *

Giles stared at the balance sheet, brow furrowed as he struggled to read the lines and lines of numbers by desk-lamp. He leaned back and stretched his back, hours and hours having spent reading leaving his shoulders and neck stiff.

It was however time well spent. He was reasonably sure he could cook Wolfram & Hart’s books enough to cream off over a million to run their operation with once the inevitable split with Wolfram & Hart came. Giles shook his head, the full horror of the decision made hitting him again. "Coming to work at Wolfram & Hart?" he muttered. "Bloody hell, what have I done?"

"Hello Sweetcakes!" Lorne greeted as he breezed into Faith’s office. "And how are you today?"

Faith glared at the demon as she stepped out of the office bathroom, a fluffy white towel covering her from mid-chest to mid-thigh, her long mane matted to the side of her neck. "I’ve got Ubel entrails in my hair, how do you think I am?"

"Well aren’t you a cheery bee?" Lorne beamed down at her. "Don’t you know it’s the most wonderful time of the year?"

Faith squinted up at the demon. "Ain’t Xmas for two months, dude."

"No sweetness!" Lorne laughed. "It’s Halloween my little love bug!"

"Love bug?" Faith muttered. "You were at my engagement party, right?"

"Aaaaaand," Lorne continued over her, her grumpiness little impediment to his at this very moment irritating cheerfulness, "it’s W&H tradition to hold an annual bash celebrating All Hallows Eve!"

Faith shook her head. "Tradition blows."

"Don’t be a pooper! Everyone loves a party!"

"I’ve just finished showering demon crap offa me!" Faith glared at the demon. "My fiancée is on the other side of the world! Do I look like I want a party?"

"Lighten up, girl! You’re the happenest girl in the whole demon world-."

"Did you say happenest?" Faith muttered in disbelief.

"But nobody’s coming," Lorne continued over her. "Well some people are, but not the A-list, and if they don’t show up, this shindig is gonna be a bust."

"Good-."

"GOOD!" Lorne exploded. "Ha ha ha! OK! OK! You're killin' me. Can't you just feel up the big picture, Ms. Magoo? It's not about good and evil. It's about party. Party! Capital P! Rhymes with me? About to have a stroke here 'cause you're killin' me!"

Faith rocked back. "Jeez, don’t have a cow, man."

"Don’t have cow!" Faith blinked as Lorne’s rant continued. "Do you have any ideas the hours I’ve put into this party! I’ve had my sleep removed to give me tiem to do everything! This is what I do, I’m the Host!"

"I heard shouting," Faith slapped her forehead as Hamilton walked in, yet another person who didn’t think people should knock. "I was hoping to see some be-heading. And will you be wearing that delightful outfit at the Halloween bash?"

"Bite me asshole," Faith bluntly replied.

"As charming as ever, how could anyone doubt you have the qualities to run this organisation?" Hamilton queried.

"Give me a minute to put my clothes on and I’ll run your arrogant ass right outta this organisation," Faith warned.

Lorne stepped between the two of them. "I called Hamilton here to emphasise just how important this party really is to us."

Faith tore her eyes back to Lorne. "By us you mean W&H?"

"Not just W&H, us too," Lorne replied. "We gotta show all the big bads that the new regime is here to stay, which, for the most part boils down to image. And image-wise, if this party doesn't kick ass, we lose face. And believe me, milk dud, speaking as the head of your P.R. Department, we need all the face we can get. "

Faith sighed and shook her head. "’Kay, listen, I understand the whole "keeping up appearances" crap, but everyone coming to this thing is unrepentant, dyed-in-the-wool evil."

Hamilton let out a dismissive sneer. "Dear girl, a good host just doesn't make these sort of judgments."

Faith chose to take the high road, the one that didn’t involve taking her chair and smashing it through the prick’s skull. "We don't know how many of them are holding grudges against us or against each other. It's a perfect recipe for an out-of-control bloodbath." Faith smirked. "Tho given the proposed guest list might not be a bad thing."

"Like the song goes, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing," Lorne smirked. "This is my forte. And I ran Caritas for years, a nightclub with an open-door policy. The good, the bad, the hideously ugly, they all bellied up to my demon bar, but they all played nicely together while they were there."

"That is the ethical tightrope you’re walking now," Hamilton put in, his tone suddenly all business. "Which brings up your employees."

"Also evil," Faith paused for a beat. "Screw ‘em."

Hamilton shook his head. "You must stop looking at things in such black and white terms-."

"You mix black and white and whatta get?" Faith queried before answering her own query. "Grey. But no matter how much white you add to grey, once somethin’s gone grey it always stays grey."

"How very home-spun." Faith balled her fists at the liaison’s disdainful reply. "However, not all employees at this firm are evil, but all of them work hard, and Halloween is like Christmas around here. Simply put morale around here sucks."

"And I care why?" Faith demanded.

"You care because this is a business and lousy morale = lousy business," Hamilton replied. "Business one oh one."

"Fine, do what the hell you want," Faith looked towards Lorne. "Put on the best show you can. I won’t get in the way."

Lorne shook his head. "I don’t want you to sit back and just let it happen. I need you to help make it happen?"

Faith’s heart sank. She did not like the sound of that. "Meaning?"

* * *

Faith stared around the black leathered-upholstered limo, the complimentary ice bucket of champagne untouched, and shook her head. "You are on fuckin’ drugs!" she accused. "Archduke Sebassis? Seriously? I was threatenin’ to kick his ass and accusin’ him of murder less than a month ago!"

"He’s also the commander of over forty legions and the peak of the A-list mountain. He’s the crown jewel of the underworld jet set. He’s the -."

"If you say jam in your doughnut, I will slap you," Faith warned.

Lorne let out a nervous laugh. "The point is, if we convince him to come, all the other glitterati will have to come to avoid being upstaged."

Faith stared at her friend. "This really matters to you doesn’t it?"

Lorne shot her a half smile. "I’m no supernatural warrior like you or Rona, I can’t fight like Gunn or Xander, I haven’t got the magics like Willow or Tara, and I haven’t got the knowledge of Wes or Giles, but I’m on your team, and this is something I can do, I’m a host, I can get people working together."

"Kay," Faith nodded before sinking back into the seat, leather creaking under her. "Question is, why the hell isn’t Giles doin’ the smoothin’ over ‘stead of me? Diplomacy is not me."

"I hadn’t noticed," Lorne snarked before replying. "I’ve already sent your redoubtable Watcher on another mission."

* * *

Giles stared around the polished wood-panelled floored and walled entrance hall, the only decoration in the stark chamber, the over-stuffed cases filled with books, some of which he’d have been very envious of before getting his hands on Wolfram & Hart’s even more extensive library. He tensed as the arched iron door at the hall’s far end opened and a red faced, wizened demon with wisps of white hair dancing on his head shuffled in, aided by a demon of the same species on his right, and clinging to an IV stand on his left.

Giles felt a rush of trepidation despite the demon’s frail appearance. Even if Faith hadn’t told him of the demon’s boasts at the Midnight Assembly, he was all too aware of the demon’s notorious reputation. In addition to his nigh on unequalled magical prowess, the demon had extensive holdings throughout California and the rest of the west coast. "Mr. Vail," Giles rose and nodded.

"Cyvus, please." The demon rasped as he slumped wearily into the seat beside him. "I don’t bother with human titles. I have to admit to some disappointment."

"Oh?"

"Yes, when my man said I had a visitor from Wolfram & Hart, I did so hope it was that Slayer of yours, a spirited filly." Giles rankled at the description of his daughter but kept his counsel as the demon descended into a bout of wheezing coughs. "But I had hoped to meet you too of course, the notorious Rupert ‘Ripper’ Giles, one-time thorn in the side of the Council, and now the reformed not to say legendary Watcher of the greatest Slayer ever."

"You sound like quite the fan," Giles commented.

"A fan?" Cyvus chuckled then descended into another bout of hacking coughs. "Hardly," the mage’s aide daubed at his spittle-covered chin as he continued, "we are if not enemies at least rivals, and it behoves a man to know all he can about those who might oppose him. I will admit to a certain admiration however."

"Well thank you, I’d like to draw on that admiration and get you to come to the Halloween party."

"Well," Cyvus sat back in his seat and stared at him, yellowed teeth flashing in a smile, "a personal request from you? It would be churlish to say no."

* * *

Disco music danced out of the speakers, gaudy decorations dangled from the walls and ceiling, and strobe lighting illuminated the reception area that now doubled as a dance floor.

A very empty dance floor. Lorne shook his head and tutted at the sparse number of dancers before striding over to the rather more enthusiastically populated banquet table at the far end of the reception.

"Man, this is lame," one lawyer complained.

"No ritual sacrifice?" complained another. "If I wanted to go to an ordinary party I would. That’s what W&H parties are famous for, the quality of our sacrifices."

"Hey guys, that’s not the attitude!" Lorne slapped the pair on the back. "You’re representing our firm here."

"Dude," the first lawyer glanced over his shoulder to glare at Lorne, "it’s our night off!"

"Dude, this is your night on! You’re representing our firm! Mingle, mingle, mingle!" His job done, Lorne looked around and sighed as he noted none of his friends were in attendance. He supposed Xander, Wes, and Wood had excuses, but the rest….

* * *

"Okay people!" Lorne walked into the science department, clapping his hands. He affected a cheery tone despite the dismay filling him at the sight of the two witches bent over a microscope, Knox hovering by their side. "We have a party to attend!"

"Oh is it that time already?" Willow commented without looking up.

"Sorry Lorne, but we’re working on a major break-through!" Tara replied. "Something that might enable us to cast a spell, case it in a container, and use it later!"

"Work! Work!" Lorne threw his hands up. "Where’s the hip and happening girls I love? There’s a party to be had!"

"You should go," Knox said. "I can finish off here."

"But the magic-." Willow glanced between Lorne and Knox.

"The magic’s done," Tara suddenly commented. "The release is strictly science. Knox is more than capable."

"That’s settled then!" Lorne exclaimed before Willow could put up another argument. "Get your glam rags on and party like it’s 1999!"

* * *

Gunn pulled away from an impassioned kissing session and looked up at the knock on the door of his security office. Before he could either give permission or refuse entrance, the door swung open and Lorne barrelled in. "Now where is W&H’s most fashionable employee and why aren’t they dressed up to the nines?"

"My tux is at the cleaners."

Lorne glared at his deadpanning. "I wasn’t talking to you. Cordelia," the demon looked towards Gunn’s girl-friend. "I’m relying on you to add some movie star glamour to my P-A-R-T-Y!!!"

"Add glamour to a party of demons?" Cordelia sniffed and shook her head. "That’s not the Chase style my dear."

"Oh come on!" Lorne flung his hands up into the air. "Be here, don’t be here! But stop whining and do something! And remember!" The demon spun around and headed out of the door. "It’s just a PARTY!"

Gunn looked at Cordelia. "He has a point you know."

"I know, I can’t believe I’ve stayed quiet until now!" Cordy fumed.

"Neither can anyone else," Gunn grinned.

Faith’s fists thudded into the punch-bag, the canvas indenting and swinging under her attack, her knees likewise swinging up to shudder the bag, her forearms and elbows crashing into the bag. "Very Bruce Lee!"

Faith spun around at the clapping, sweat streaming down her workout gear of cotton grey crop-top and black sweatpants. "Yeah thanks," Faith wiped an errant hair off her face, "I thought it was the party tonight?"

"It is and where’s our esteemed leader I ask? Is she getting ready to dazzle us all with her beauty? Or is she brooding in the gym?"

"Ain’t broodin’," Faith defended. "I gotta keep sharp, and there’s a reason I’ve got this bangin’ body."

"Oh lighten up, forget about Slaying, forget about killing, live a little, enjoy this party!"

"And where’s the most Watchingnest of all the Watchers?"

"Good lord," Giles glanced up at Lorne’s entrance, "not even Faith can butcher the English language quite like you Lorne."

"Oh sush, you can’t tell because of my skin colour, but I’m blushing on the inside," trilled the demon. "Now tell me, Grumpy Gus, why aren’t you down at the party."

"Huh," Giles stared at the demon, "I was never a party animal."

"Come now," Lorne shook his head. "I’ve read you, I know that’s not true."

Giles bristled inwardly. "You’re confusing me with Ripper."

"As you say," Lorne smiled. "Why are you brooding in this office when there’s a P-A-R-T-Y going on?"

"I have work to do," Giles dead-eyed the demon. "Work not especially helped by that bloody racket."

"Huh," Lorne appeared unaffected by his mood, "I know what your problem is."

"If you feel the urge to share, don’t."

The demon continued over his mutter. "You’re a typical repressed, stiff-upper-lip Brit, you worry about that Slayer of yours, and you never tell her how much you love her and you should! Now get out and party!"

The Archduke forced himself not to sniff as he glanced at the two companions he was sharing with. As the three leading lights of their exclusive little club, it would be bad form for one to arrive before the others. Still he considered Izzerial of the Seventh Circle and Cyvus Vail of the Emerald Disciplines to be beneath him.

And what really rankled he was sure, beneath their polite expressions and warm mannerisms, they felt the same about him.

"I wonder if the Slayer will be here," commented Izzerial, a red-skinned demon with matching eyes, a pair of curved horns spiking out of his forehead, a tiny moustache and pointed goatee adorning his face.

"I wonder what she’ll be wearing," Cyvus chuckled between laughs. "Leathers I shouldn’t wonder."

"While chugging down Budweisers I believe the humans call them," the Archduke joined his companions in chuckles. If anything proved the supremacy of demonic claim on this muddy plane it was the quality of their rivals’ champions.

The trio were still laughing when the elevator hummed to a halt and the doors slid open to reveal the Slayer stood there, her mane perched up in a bun on her head, her make-up understated, and her floor-length, black nylon dress glittering with sequins, her neckline cut down past her cleavage, her outfit knotted behind her neck and backless all the way down to her behind. "GUYS!" The Slayer rushed into the elevator and somehow managed to simultaneously grasp each of them by their hands and drag them out into the reception area. "I’m SO glad you came!" Faith giggled then put her hand to her mouth. "After all you are the guests of honour! Gotta circulate, have fun, and make a space on your dance cards for me for later!"

The Archduke scowled as the Slayer danced away. "Sarcastic bitch."

* * *

"Oh Faith, you look so beautiful tonight."

"Thanks G!" Faith’s heart soared at her pops’ praise. She turned to face the Watcher, eyes widening when Giles suddenly burst into tears. "Hey, what’s the what???"

"You’re so beautiful!" the uncharacteristically emotional Watcher wailed. "It breaks my heart I don’t tell you enough how amazing you are!"

"Huh, yeah," Faith blushed then looked around, grinning as one of her favourite songs came on the speakers, "hey I love this song, wanna dance?"

"With you?" Giles rubbed at his eyes. "Why I’m honoured, I’m not worthy!"

"No arguments," Faith giggled as she grabbed at her Watcher’s hand, "but I need a dancing partner and you’re elected." Ignoring the Englishman’s embarrassed mumblings, she dragged him onto the dance floor. "Pretend like your people didn’t invent The Birdie Song!"

They’d barely begun to dance when the shouts began. "AXIS OF EVIL!"

"WOLFRAM & HART SUCK!"

"W&H – HOME OF SCUM!"

Faith looked up to see Gunn and Cordelia marching up and down the mezzanine, placards swinging defiantly in their hands. "We’ve gotta stop them!" Faith decided. "They’re mellowing my buzz! Nicely painted placards though, I must compliment them on that."

"Come on," Giles dragged her up the steps leading to the duo.

"Nice placards, gang!" Faith greeted with a beam.

"Yes wonderful," Giles sniffed. "A for artwork, definite F for timing though."

"We shouldn’t be here," Cordelia commented. "It’s the last place in the world we should be!"

"I love that you feel free to express your opinion," Faith said, "but this is such a goooooooooood party!"

"Yes, I appreciate you have a conscience," Giles added. "But now is not the time to express your opinion, and certainly not in this unseemly manner."

"Constitution says we got a right to protest, dog!" Gunn stuck his face in Giles’.

"I don’t care about your bloody constitution," Giles growled right back. "Faith very rarely gets to enjoy herself, so you’re not going to wreck this -."

"Ohhhh! What a ceiling! I feel like I’m dancing on a feeling!"

The gang turned from their arguments to look down to see a mini-dressed Tara dancing on the buffet table while Willow was stood beside her, swigging down a wine bottle like a thirty year old boozer. "Tara got the lyrics wrong," Cordy commented.

"Yeah, ‘cause that’s all that’s wrong with the picture," Faith commented, brow furrowing. "But she is a great mover. I should tell her, praise is very important to people."

Giles looked at her. "You’re not usually this bright and bubbly," her father commented, suddenly tears sprang into his eyes. "Something’s wrong with you, I can tell. Oh god, I’m a terrible father, I should have noticed before!" Giles threw his hands up, cupping his face in them. "It’s just like when you were a cheerleader and you were enspelled! You’re going to die horribly! Oh no!"

Faith fluttered her eyelashes as she stared at her father. "’Kay even I’m down after that."

* * *

Artode shook his head as he entered the bathroom. It was his profound opinion they shouldn’t be here, but the Archduke had ordered it, and where he led Artode loyally followed. Besides, it wasn’t like they weren’t well-prepared. Let that Slayer spring her trap, she’d soon taste Deliviun steel!

Artode stepped into one of the stalls then turned to close the door. His jaw dropped open at the giant stood behind, his reflexes slowed until the monster grabbed him, and by then it was far, far too late.

* * *

Lorne swallowed as all his friends glared at him. Suddenly Faith’s vast office seemed very small indeed. "Come on guys, I didn’t do anything."

"Lorney!" Faith trilled in an okay very unlike Faith way. "We’re not mad-."

"Speak for yourself," Gunn glared at him, "I’m getting angrier every second I’m in this hellhole."

"Maybe if we went out and protested some more, we could turn some of these poor saps from the darkness?" suggested Cordelia.

Giles shook his head. "Lorne is doing something to us all."

"I am not," Lorne defended weakly.

"Faith’s being even more gregarious than her-."

"Have I just been insulted?" Faith threw her head back and laughed. "Heck, Giles uses such fancy words I don’t even care!"

"Charming self, Tara and Willow have been rather more out-going than us-."

"I love this champagne!" Tara trilled as she chugged down her second bottle of champagne. "I love this song, anyone wanna boogie?"

"Gunn and Cordelia have been very undiplomatic about their and our feelings towards this company," Giles paused, "well that one’s not so unusual. And I’ve been," Giles coughed, "rather emotional." The Watcher looked towards his charge. "But I don’t care who knows how proud I am of you!"

Lorne shook his head. "This is crazy. I am not doing this. I would know if I was doing this. I don't even know what this is."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "I thought our lovely Lorney was just an empathy demon."

"Oh wait a minute," Cordelia shook her head. "He told us to stop complaining and do something."

"And," Willow and Tara were grinding together far too closely for a couple in public as the red-head spoke, "he told us to party."

"And he told me to express my feelings!" Giles burst into tears. "It’s just so liberating!"

"I keep telling you people I haven’t done anything!" Lorne protested. Why wasn’t anyone listening?

"No," Faith shook her head, "you told me you had your sleep removed."

"I beg your pardon?" Giles’ gaze snapped from Faith to him. "An empath demon deprived of sleep for that long could be a devastating danger!" Lorne opened his mouth to defend himself, but Giles had already looked away and to the almost copulating lesbians. "Willow, Tara go down and-." Giles faltered when Tara slumped to the ground, the normally wallflower wicca completely sozzled and barely conscious. "Actually Willow go and find Lorne’s sleep and figure out how to put it back in his head."

"But the party!" Willow pouted. "I wanna party."

"I’m sure they’ll be plenty of the party left to enjoy afterwards," Giles comforted before glaring back at Lorne. "You just stay tight and try not to talk."

Lorne shook his head. "Watcher-guy, we still got a party going on. Someone has to make sure there's ice in the drinks."

Giles grimaced. "Good point!"

Lorne blinked when the Slayer jumped up and began bouncing up and down on the spot, almost falling out of her dress. "Ooh, ooh! Me! Me! I'm your people person!" Lorne cringed, alright then, maybe he HAD affected everyone.

"I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job dear!" Giles gushed before looking towards Gunn. "Gunn, go on the floor, see if anyone else is under the Lorne effect. "

The African-American scowled. "We don’t know any of these assholes well enough to-."

"Please," Giles rubbed at his forehead. "Humour me."

Willow giggled as she stumbled into the Psyche Component Storage Facility and burped. "I’m drunk," she tittered before focusing herself on the refrigerator-like cabinets lining the left wall. "Sleep, I’m looking for sleep. Not mine, not Tara’s," Willow giggled, "she fell asleep or at least fell." Willow shook her head. "No, I’m looking for Lorne’s sleep. Green’s a funny colour, green’s how Tara looked before she passed out."

Faith glanced up as the office door burst open and Sebassis and his followers strode in carrying crossbows. "Hey dramatic entrance!" Faith clapped. "Well done!"

Sebassis snarled. "The nerve, the raw nerve to lay a hand on one of mine!"

"Hey good buddy what’s this about????" Faith queried.

"These bolts are poisoned." Sebassis pointed his weapon at her, his companions pointing at her friends. "You murdered Artode-."

"I wouldn’t murder Artode! I loved Artode!" Faith wrinkled her nose. "Wait, which one’s of youse is Artode?"

"You think this is funny?" Sebassis bristled. "Get a move on, you have a public execution to attend."

"I knew coming here was a mistake," Gunn muttered.

"Don’t you understand????" Giles shot the black a glare. "They’re going to kill my baby!"

Faith sighed as Sebassis and his cohorts herded them out into the party area, the guests now crowded to one side by Sebassis’ other men. "I totally applaud your loyalty to your man. But whatever’s goin’ on here, we ain’t behind it."

"Enough lies, Slayer," Sebassis instructed.

"Okay, okay," Lorne turned to face the demons, his hands raised in supplication. "Yes, the party’s taken a downturn, but let’s keep our -," Lorne gulped when Sebassis cocked his weapon, "cool."

Willow peered uncertainly at the book before her. "Sleep disorders, edelmyer complex, eldritch causes, empaths." Willow peered at the book then paused to burp, that champagne was really fizzy. ""If you sever the empath from his subconscious for too long, that subconscious manifests." Willow looked around the silent room. "But manifest into what?"

"Guys we don’t need weapons, like Lennon said ‘All We Need Is Love’!" Lorne momentarily faltered when Sebassis returned his nervous laugh with a cold stare. "This isn’t down to Faith. It’s me, I mean it’s not me. Somehow I’m inadvertently controlling people and making them do things." Lorne gulped when Sebassis turned his weapon from Faith to him.

"Well then Pylean, you’re making me kill you. How does that fit with your theory?"

Lorne sighed. "This party just isn’t turning out how I expected."

"ARRRRRR!" Lorne’s jaw dropped as a nine foot, eight hundred pound version of him lumbered into view, the creature’s shoulders about as wide as a truck and his chest as thick as a vault.

"Oh boy!" Lorne slapped his head as Faith began jumping up and down on the spot again. "It’s Incredible Lorne! That’s so cool!"

Faith beamed as she cricked her neck up to peer at the towering demon. "Our very own super-hero, how cool is that?"

Hulk Lorne backhand slapped one of Sebassis’ demons into the buffet table, the table crashing to the ground and tipping its contents on top of the unconscious demon. Sebassis let out a shriek as he fired a poisoned bolt into Hulk Lorne’s baseball-sized deltoid to no effect.

"Stop it! Stop killing!" Lorne rushed in front of Hulk Lorne, a backhand sent Lorne crashing into a pillar, the demon sliding to the ground with a groan. "Yep, that went as well as I expected."

"Run Sebassis!" Faith shouted as she raced to intercept the gargantuan demon. "I’ll protect you!"

"Wow!" Faith grunted as the demon hit her with an overhand that sent her flying into the wall behind, wood-pannelling cracking with her collision. "You hit really, really hard Lorne!"

"Yes," Lorne groaned as he struggled to his feet, "I’ve been working out apparently."

"Don’t you hurt my daughter!" Giles leapt up on an table and hit the creature over the head with a statue. "Ugggh!" The demon shot an elbow back, catching the Englishman in his face, knocking him off the table and to the ground.

Suddenly the elevator door slid open and Willow raced out, the red-head’s eyes widening at the carnage before her. "Oh boy!" she shrilled as she stumbled over to ‘normal’ Lorne, pressed a syringe gun to his forehead and fired it.

"I see tweety pies," Lorne groaned before crashing face first to the floor, the manifestation disappearing.

Gunn slumped against the wall. "Let’s call this party over, please?"

"Ah," Giles smiled at his companion as the group they’d been waiting for entered the lobby, the trio’s scruffy appearance at odds with their gleaming surroundings. "They’re here!" Giles stepped forward to meet the three teen girls struggling under a veritable train of bags. "Hello ladies," he directed a smile towards the three girls even as he grabbed two of the bags and motioned to Rona for her to do the same, "I trust your journey wasn’t too taxing." He cleared his throat at the girls’ shy silence. "I’m Rupert Giles and this," Giles glanced at his companion, "is Rona, the Slayer who’ll be most closely involved with your training." Giles paused. "Now how about we give you a tour around the facilities-."

"Our cab’s waiting outside," interrupted a purple-haired girl with a ring through her nose, "we didn’t have the money-."

"Of course," Giles interrupted. His smile didn’t waver, but inwardly he fumed at a Council, at a world, that would leave such girls without anyone to look after them. "I’ll go and pay the cab." He glanced towards Rona. "If you’d be so kind?"

"I’ll go introduce them to the other girls." Rona smirked. "Tour’s less boring without you anyway."

"Ah, yes," he sniffed. "Very amusing." Obviously Faith was a bad influence on the younger Slayer.

* * *

"Hey Cor," Faith sauntered out of the elevator and past her friend’s reception desk. She knew she stood out in her skin-tight jeans and leather jacket over a midriff-revealing cotton crop-top in a building filled with GQ business suits, but hey what was the point of havin’ a rockin’ body if ya didn’t show it off?

"Hey boss," Cordy snarked at her. In contrast her best friend was immaculately coiffured in a stylish charcoal grey trouser suit. "Here’s your mail, boss."

Faith took the proffered selection of mail with a smirk. "Do I detect mutinty in the ranks?" she sniffed in a snooty British accent.

Cordy shot her a gleaming smile. "Only every day."

Faith perched up on the desk. "What’s my schedule lookin’ like today?"

"Pretty free," Cordy replied.

Faith nodded. "Hold my calls, ‘less Harris rings. Let G through if he comes-."

"I have heard this like every day since we started working in the axis of evil," Cordy commented. "Remind me why we did that by the way?"

"For the challenge." Faith concealed her own misgivings behind a smirk. "Later, C."

Faith strutted into her very elaborately furnished office and back-heeled her door shut behind her then sat in her leather-upholstered seat, cowboy-booted feet swinging up to rest on her desk as she went through her mail, using her K-Bar to tear through envelope after envelope. Her eyes scanned over each letter in turn, deciding how to deal with them before moving onto the next.

"What the-." She paused, her eyes narrowing and brow furrowing as she opened an A4 brown envelope with a solitary sheet of paper inside it. Instead of the usual neatly-written text this one was covered in a hand-written scrawl.

"Huh," Faith sank back in her seat, eyes skirting around her office, almost as if seeking the predicted bugs even as she considered the letter, noting its envelope’s lack of a stamp, meaning it was an internal letter. The first question was who sent it. Her first and best guess had to be a pissed-off W&H employee who’d simply slipped the letter into the internal post. Another alternative was it was an old contact from her pre-W&H days who now didn’t dare openly contact her, but she couldn’t see how they’d got it into W&H’s mail system. A more worrying prospect was it wasn’t a disgruntled employee at all, but a loyal one, and this was all an elaborate plan to draw her into a trap that left her short one very babelicious head.

Trust no-one, her ass. Faith leaned forward and pressed on her desk’s intercom. "Cor, can you tell me where Gunn and Ron are?"

"Gunn’s in the security office and Rona’s training the potentials in the gym."

"Thanks," Faith nodded thoughtfully as she reached into her drawer, pulled out a pad of paper and scribbled a pair of notes before ripping the sheets off the pad, stuffing them and the note in her pocket and stridin’ out.

* * *

An Unknown Location

"Our intelligence sources indicate that seer triplets will be landing at the Sunnydale docks in the next 48 hours."

"Huh," the head of the Dark Council glared angrily at his subordinate. Three was a significant number in occult circles, a number of power. Three related seers could only mean their powers were magnified.

They were a potential power that could not be ignored. "In Sunnydale you say?" His jaw tightened. The only possible reason a trio of seers would be in Sunnydale was because they were seeking the Slayer’s protection.

His scowl deepened. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. If that bitch and her rebellious Watcher hadn’t proved their treachery by their flagrant flouting of centuries-old Council laws, they’d surely shown it by joining forces with Wolfram & Hart. There was no way they could be allowed to get their hands on a weapon with the potential of seer triplets.

* * *

"Hello Mr. Hamilton."

"Archduke," Hamilton gave the demon sat on the throne before him a perfunctory bow. He might be the liaison to the senior partners, but Archduke Sebassis was a power in his own right, and deserved respect as such.

The purple-skinned demon stroked at his chin. "And how might I help you?"

"Actually," he smiled, "it’s how I might help you." He continued before the demon could press for clarification. "I’ve received certain information that child seers will be heading into Sunnydale in the next couple of days, triplets."

"Really?" Hamilton could practically see the gears churning turning in the demon’s head. "And why have you come to me with this very interesting information rather than one of my fellow conspirators?"

Hamilton chuckled. "Sir, let’s not pretend, all of you are very powerful, but you are the leader and therefore the logical choice to approach with this information."

"True," Sebassis momentarily preened himself then sobered, once again stroked at his chin. "Three seers. A great potential asset. I’ll have to send some of my men to pick them up."

"No sir," Hamilton shook his head. "The Senior Partners don’t wish you to use your own men in case the Slayer finds out about these children and attempts to grab them for herself. We don’t want her to know about your involvement."

"Huh," the Archduke nodded. "A good point." The aristocratic demon smiled suddenly. "There’s a certain poetic justice in using a few of those Deathwok Clanners to do this for me don’t you think?"

Hamilton smiled. "You are as wise as you are powerful."

"Yes," the Archduke chuckled, "I think I am."

* * *

Faith strutted under the high sign hanging outside the bar’s door and through the entrance of traditionally British pub, complete with a series of ceramic ducks on its wood-panelled back wall, a jukebox playing the Beatles by its glass door, and a dart board set on the left wall. Faith smirked at all the covetous looks she got from the pub’s patrons, damn straight they didn’t haven’t anything as pretty as her in ol’ blighty, clad all in skin-tight, ass-hugging denims, cool as fuck leather jacket over a grey cotton crop top.

She also grinned as she noted Rona and Gunn sat in against the bar’s far wall under the guise of a pair on a date. Cor was probably pissed, but no offence to her best bud, but no way could she fight as well as number two Slayer.

Her hips swung seductively as she strode over to the bar and slid onto one of the more or less clean bar stools. Faith nodded at the burly bartender. "I’ll have a Jacks." Faith bit back a sigh as the man’s mouth opened in a doubtless predictable remark. "Yeah," Faith reached into her leather jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out her wallet, flashing her driver’s licence, "I’m old enough."

"Hey gorgeous, make an old man happy and let him buy youse a drinky."

"No thanks." Years of breeding meant she just about managed to be polite, but it was an effort as she stared at the seventy-something with rheumy eyes, whiskey breath, straggly hair glued together by mud and sweat, and yellowed teeth all topped off by jeans and a grey sweater that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since before she’d been born. "I buy my own."

"Now really, what sort of girl doesn’t let her father buy her a drink?"

Faith’s head snapped towards the man, dark eyes widening at the suddenly very familiar cultured tones. "G?" she barely managed to hiss rather than yell. "But how-."

"The occasional school play," amusement twinkled in her father’s eyes as he muttered a reply too low for anyone bar her and probably Rona to hear. "Now pretend disgust, go over to Gunn and Rona, and then meet me around the back."

"Meet you around the back?" Faith pulled back, her shrill tones drawing every voice to her as she flinched away from her Watcher. "No fucking way you dirty old perv!" Spinning around, she headed towards Gunn and Ron. "Hey, you mind if I sit with youse two, he’s creepin’ me out some?"

* * *

"What’s with the disguise, G?"

Giles chuckled at his daughter’s query, having stumbled drunkenly out of the pub, then far more discreetly crept around its side to meet up with her and her companions. "My dear, one is a thespian." He chuckled again at Faith’s eye roll, then sobered. "A contact of Wesley approached me late yesterday with a matter of grave import, and fearing that both our house and the offices are bugged, I couldn’t risk -."

"Wes?" Faith interrupted, expressive eyes narrowing. "Is somethin’ wrong with Wes and the guys?"

"No," Faith relaxed at his soothing headshake, "it’s nothing to do with Xander and the others." He cleared his throat as he pulled his wig off and rubbed the yellowing off his teeth. "The contact, a former Watcher, wished to inform Wesley child seer triplets had been found and were being sent here for protection."

"Oh wow." Giles glanced towards Rona. Of course the dreadlocked Slayer had been raised most traditionally for a Potential, so even allowing for her relative inexperience, the young woman had far more supernatural knowledge than Faith. "Triplet seers, they’re meant to be the most powerful of Seers."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "So it’s imperative they don’t fall into Wolfram & Hart’s hands, hence my rather elaborate measures. I’ve organised a safe place for them, but need to guard them until their escort arrives, and I also guessed considering the vagueness of my letter you wouldn’t come alone."

"Damn, you can read my mind," Faith shuddered.

"What?"

"I was just thinkin’ all those times I thought I was gettin’ away with shit, you knew exactly what I was up to," the Slayer glumly explained.

"Oh never doubt it, my dear."

* * *

"Come children," Avren gently chided as he guided the three seer children through the largely empty harbour, breathing in the dock’s salty air as the surrounding water’s gentle sloshing filling his ears. Even as he glanced left and right, eyes constantly searching the darkness, the glimmering street lights giving scant illumination, and his fingers stroking the hilt of his scabbarded sword, Avren thought about the many years he’d served the forces of good, of the friends he’d lost and heartache he’d suffered. Once they’d been many, but now only a few of their blessed order remained.

Perhaps he would finally get to see Drogyn and finally make peace with the warrior who’d slain his brethren and through his adultery indirectly led to the fall of the king they’d both served so many centuries ago.

England’s golden age indeed.

Avren crouched, sword half out of his scabbard as he pulled the children behind him. "Vampire, do not think you face a normal man, I am well aware of the horrors that stalk Sunnydale’s streets, and they should cower before me!"

His rage dimmed into a more cautious grimness as a towering figure with pointed red horns and red eyes, and a green skin under a sleeveless chain-mail surcoat. "Demon," he hissed.

The figure smirked as several of its accursed brethren stepped out of the shadows. "Demons," it corrected.

A cold chill encompassed Avren, the certainty that he would meet his death here filling him. Avren laughed as he drew his blade, his only regret that he would never get the chance to sit with his brother knights and compare notes on the adventures they had had.

"And so it ends." Avren leapt forward, twisting sideways as he did so, colliding shoulder-first with the nearest demon, knocking it into and through the chain-mesh fence behind.

Avren spun to face the nearest demon, the monster leaping at him as he feinted a thrust at its face, then lashed at its legs. "Grrrraa!" The monster’s head snapped back as its pained roar echoed through the night and his blade sliced through its right leg just above below the knee-joint. Another creature stumbled over its downed companion in its eagerness to attack him. Avren nimbly sidestepped the staggering monster and backhand slashed through its neck, his centuries-old blade tearing through chain-mail aventail.

The other monsters pulled back, wariness etched on their faces. "Ha," he taunted, "did you think slaying a knight of Camelot would be easy? Come beasts of hell, let me send you home!"

Two of the demons charged in, hastily drawn battle-axes slicing down, but Avren swayed one way and then the other, the axes missing their target by the merest fraction, but Avren’s own blade slicing throat and hamstring, leaving the demons stumbling to the ground their blood spilling out. Another leapt in, the largest yet, a full two heads taller than Avren’s not inconsiderable height, the axe swinging in his shovel-sized hands almost as tall as Avren.

The axe swung down, forcing Avren to sidestep, his sword slicing up to hit, but bounce off the creature’s inch-thick breastplate, sparks flying. And then the creature crashed into him, knocking him into the chain-mesh fence.

The beast charged in, Avren barely having time to dart to the left, his sword flashing down to hew into the creature’s tree-trunk thigh. "Ahhh!" He couldn’t avoid a scream as a spear thrust at his heart missed thanks to him ducking, but not fast enough to avoid it slicing through his shoulder.

Pained sweat soaked his forehead as crimson gushed down his arm as he planted his feet then pushed forward, his sword thrusting across his torso and up, into the creature’s armpit, ripping through muscle, then tearing through more as he dragged it out in time to parry another blade thrusting at his face. Another spear came at him from the right, another from the left, Avren twisting this way and that to avoid them, even slapping away one with his free hand. "Haaaa!" Blood spewed from his mouth as a third tore through his throat. Pain coursing through his body, Avren twisted to face the giant and with his last energy back-hand slashed the demon’s face off before slumping into the wall, legs giving under him as the demons closed on him, their blades cutting and stabbing at him.

* * *

"Shit!" Faith cursed as their car screeched to a halt at the docks to find hewn demon corpses laid out on the ground, a single human victim lying slumped against the wire mesh fence, his chain-mail covered body practically chopped to pieces. "This guy had bad intentions!"

"Faith!" Giles pointed further on, to the far side of the docks where two more demons were being cut down by soldiers in night-camouflage wear, and children being bundled into a van.

"See ‘em!" Realising the car was too narrow to make it to the other side of the docks, Giles hit the brakes and Faith piled out of the car, leapt on the roof and over the car as Rona being on the near side got a head start.

Rona was wicked eager to show what a good Slayer she was, her legs blurring as the younger girl took full advantage of her lead. "Shit!" Faith cursed as the van started off, her eyes widening as Rona leapt into the air and landed on the van’s roof, hands clutching tightly to the edges. "That kid’s crazier than -." She winced as the van screeched around a corner, flinging the younger Slayer off and into a warehouse’s wall. "Well that looks like it hurt." Faith hurried over to her companion and helped her up. "You five by five, Ron?"

Rona shot her an embarrassed look. "Yeah sorry I lost them-."

"Hey, I ain’t gonna bust your balls bout that," Faith waved Rona’s apologies away, "that jump was wicked cool. ‘Sides," Faith winked at her fellow Slayer as she pulled out her phone, "I got brains." Faith quickly called up a number and waited as the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Red," Faith greeted. "It’s me, a van just sideswiped my car and drove off, but speed it was goin’, I gotta figure it must have activated speed cameras, so I figure-."

"That I could track it?" the witch excitedly interrupted. "Let’s gumshoe it!" Faith grinned and rolled her eyes. "Give me the reg!" Faith quickly complied. "Huh, huh." As Faith listened to the sound of Willow tapping away at her keyboard, she and Rona turned and started back to Giles and Gunn. "They set off two speeding cameras, but then slowed down, I lost them. Wait, it’s coming up at as a rental, give me a sec." Willow tapped at her keyboard. "Yeah, I got the renter’s address, and guess what they also rented a house!"

"You’re a star, Red," Faith praised, "give me the address."

* * *

"Good lord, a sixth century British broadsword," Giles reverently lifted the blade then looked towards the downed corpse. "And the man’s clothing and armour, it looks very similar to Drogyn’s wear and the skill the warrior showed in defeating all these demons, I shouldn’t wonder that the man was a contemporary of Drogyn."

"But Xander said Drogyn was one of the Round Table knights?" Faith commented as she reached her Watcher.

"Yes," Giles agreed as he continued to stare with wonder at the blade.

"So you’re sayin’…." Gunn’s voice trailed off.

"That’s precisely what I’m saying."

"Damn." Faith dropped into a squat beside the warrior’s corpse, filled with a new respect. "We can’t just leave him here, not someone like him."

"No," Giles agreed. "I have some plastic sheeting in the boot, we’ll wrap him in that, put him in the boot, and bury him once we’ve rescued the children. I know it’s not respectful, but we don’t have any other option, not given our mission."

Gunn shook his head. "Couldn’t we get Wolfram & Hart to-."

"Hardly," Giles interrupted with an impatient shake of his head. "Not only couldn’t we trust them not to defile the body in some way, they’d only have questions about why we’re here. Questions we cannot afford to answer."

* * *

"I tell you this is stereotyping!"

"Nah," Faith smirked at him, "you’re an African-American. If we was goin’ for stereo-typing, we’d have found an Italian-American."

Gunn glared at the Slayer. Unfortunately his attempt at intimidation failed on many levels. Firstly because Faith was well Faith. Secondly because Faith was also a Slayer. And finally because he’d been dressed in a pizza delivery outfit. "Why can’t Giles do this?"

Faith threw her head back and let out an amused roar. "How many pizza boys do you see who are collectin’ their pension?"

"I’m not quite ready for my bus pass yet Faith," huffed the Englishman before looking towards him. "You’re familiar with the plan?"

"Yeah," Gunn sighed. "I walk to the door, bang on it, say I have a delivery. When they don’t open, I start shouting, when they open, I fling open the top box," he glared balefully at the three pizza boxes, "take out the gun and shoot the nearest one, while you and Ron come in from the rear of the building. Ron goes after the kids and get them out, you go for the thugs."

"See, you do understand!" Faith beamed at him. "Now get a move on, and remember you ain’t a delivery boy in no porno!" Faith paled as Giles cleared his throat. "Not that I know anythin’ ‘bout that."

"Course you don’t," Gunn smiled. "That’s why you asked to borrow my camcoder to make a home movie wasn’t it?" His grin widened at the Slayer’s spluttered protest as he turned and started across the darkened road.

He sobered as he started up the path leading to a two-storey, bland-looking cottage. No van, but then the kidnappers probably wouldn’t want to risk them seeing it. Readying himself for what was coming, he knocked on the door and let out a yell. "Fiorenta’s, your Pizza is here! Three pizzas, one onion rings, and two garlic breads!" The door remained steadfastly shut. "HEY!" he raised his voice. "I’ve got over fifty dollars worth of stuff here! No way am I taking the hit on my wages! Someone’s gonna pay!" He slammed his fist into the door. "Come on! I hate these freakin’ crank orders!"

The door opened to reveal a square-jawed, shaven-headed giant of the Aryan superman guide glaring down at him from about a four inch height advantage. "We didn’t order anything, now fuck off!"

Oh crap, now he wished he had a cannon instead of just a gun. "Hey come on," Gunn tried for his most winning smile, "I’m just a working joe. Wouldn’t a big guy like you, want some of this lovely pizza?" he queried as he went to flip open the top box.

"I said fuck off!" The man back-handed the boxes to the cottage’s neatly-mowed lawn.

Revealing the tranquiliser gun that had been concealed in the top one.

Oh crap.

There was a moment of frozen shock, then Gunn slammed a fist into the guy’s gut and grunted. "Hey," Gunn smiled up weakly at the unfazed giant, "nice abs."

Gunn ducked under a straight right, then hit the gargantuan with a palm strike to the chest. The thug stumbled back half a step, then lunged forward with a haymaker that would have taken Gunn’s head off if he hadn’t ducked under it, kicking at the thug’s outer knee.

This got him at least a grunt, the man half stumbling forward, his head dipping into a front face-lock. "Ahhhh!" Gunn gasped as the man’s massive arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed. Gunn’s vision dimmed even as he drove his elbow into the back of the giant’s tyre-thick neck. "Jeez!"

He gasped as the giant released him, stumbling backwards and just about ducking beneath another right hook. Stars erupted before his eyes as the giant caught him with a left uppercut that lifted him off his feet and dumped him on the lawn. A grin on his face, the thickly muscled giant raised his foot to stamp Gunn’s face in.

And then Faith plucked the man off his feet then flung him head first into the cottage’s wall, the man connecting with a sickening crack, his blood smearing the bricks as he slumped to the ground.

"Geez," Faith looked down at him and shook her head, "if you’re gonna wrestle with ol’ Ivan Drago, you should at least have the politeness to get me some popcorn, strip off, and put on some baby oil."

Gunn glared up at his friend. "Are you going to help me up or not?"

Rona hurried out of the front door, the younger Slayer herding the three kids before her. "Lying down on the job again, Gunn?"

"Yeah," Faith smirked, "and Cordy ain’t even here, for shame."

* * *

"The Pyleans were defeated?" Sebassis seethed.

Hamilton tugged on his jacket sleeves before replying. "I’m afraid the Slayer somehow became aware of the seers’ arrival and went to the docks to rescue them. In addition, the seers’ protector was rather more skilled than we expected. Although the Pyleans killed him, he was able to slay several of them."

"That’s unfortunate." It was an effort not to strike out at the suited messenger stood before him, but the Archduke managed to contain himself by reminding him just who his guest was. "But we’re protected?"

"Oh yes," Hamilton nodded. "Even if the Slayer had questioned the Pyleans, they had no idea who hired them."

"That’s fortunate," Sebassis replied. "We’ve diverted a lot of resources and expended a lot of effort getting the Slayer in the position we need her."

"Yes," Hamilton nodded again. "There is something else." There was a rare momentary hesitation before the liaison continued. "Someone else tried to kidnap the children but was likewise thwarted by the Slayer."

"Someone else?" Sebassis leaned forward in his seat. "Who? A known rival? A new player?"

"We’re busy interrogating various surviours, but as yet we believe that like the Pyleans they have no idea who their actual employer was."

Sebassis pursed his lips. That was troubling information.

* * *

"I’ve organised protection for you in Nepal, a sanctuary for the supernaturally gifted you might say," Giles huffed as he led the triplets down a dock, wooden boards creaking underfoot, and the salt in the sloshing water heavy in the air.

Faith’s heart froze as the trio suddenly stopped and their heads turned towards her as one, blind gazes zeroing on her and their mouths opening in a skin-crawling chant. "Beware the ring of ebony barbs that surrounds you for should they prick you, you will bleed, and you will die."

"Yeah," Faith licked her suddenly dry lips, a nervous laugh escaping her, "I’ll bear that cheery advice in mind."

"A prophecy," Giles shot her a white-faced look then shook himself. "Yes well," the middle-aged Englishman turned his attention back to the seers, "let’s not dawdle."

Faith watched silently as the three seers were loaded onto the boat awaiting them. She was surprised to find herself more than a little jealous of them, yeah, like her they’d always been different, they’d always been alone, but unlike her as a kid, at least they’d had each other.

"What you thinking about?"

At Gunn’s words Faith dragged herself out of her reverie and shot her fiancée’s best friend a trademark sultry look. "How I’ve got an itch, and Xander ain’t here but you are." Faith laughed smokily at Gunn’s goldfish impression. "Nah, just thinkin’ ‘bout the prophecy," she lied.

"Yeah," Rona broke in. "What do you think it meant?"

Faith affected an unconcerned shrug. "Don’t know, imagine we’ll find out soon enough though."