FIC

Owen and Scott exchanged looks at the woman’s question. "Have a go heroes?" Scott tried, weakly in Owen’s opinion

"You’re not normal," the woman shook her head. Owen took a breath as he noticed the rusty-haired beauty’s cupid lips, enticing emerald eyes, and curvy body. Oh yeah, very nice. "The way you threw that man," the woman shook her head again as she stared at him, "that was impossible."

"Huh," the mystery woman stared bemusedly at the others before replying, "I’d just turned eighteen when I came here, it was the summer of ’98."

"Right," Theresa pursed her lips, "so you were here for Halloween ’98 then?" The red-head nodded. "What’s your name?"

"Did you go to a Halloween party that year dressed as a Marvel character?" queried Theresa.

"I’m getting the image of you in a chain-mail bikini and I definitely approve." Owen flushed as he noted the way his friends and the newcomer looked at him. "Oh, I said that out loud didn’t I?"

"Right," Theresa smirked at him before looking back towards the woman, "well we dressed up as Ms. Marvel, Iron Fist, and Vision, and we kept some of their abilities, so we try and help people. Did you change?"

"She fought like someone who really knows her stuff though," Scott cut in. "Maybe because she didn’t have any new abilities like super-strength or any reason to use her new skills she just didn’t realise she had them."

"You should come with us so we can test you!" Owen blurted out.

"Oh yeah," Scot muttered, "that’s why you want her to come with us."

"I don’t think you realise just how much you and Xander getting together complicates things-."

"Gee, Wes," Faith snapped at her lecturing Watcher, "that’s what relationships and feelings do right, complicate things?" It had been her idea, this patrol with just the two of them so she could clear the air, but right about now she could do with an entire country between her and her Watcher.

Wesley sighed. "Yes, but Xander was dating someone, a friend of yours-."

"And you’re disappointed in me?" Faith whispered, her stomach hollowing even as her hackles rose defensively.

"Faith," Wesley sighed, "I’m both proud and disappointed in you, those two emotions aren’t mutually exclusive. Proud of your wit, strength of will and resourcefulness, but you have made a poor decision in getting involved with Xander, and to be honest, shown a disloyalty that surprises me."

Faith’s shoulders slumped. "That wasn’t my fault," she protested, "Xan had broken up with her before we did anything. We just hadn’t told her that we were getting together before she found out."

"Oh good lord, now I’m a bloody agony aunt," Wesley rubbed at his forehead. "Don’t you think it would have been at the very least prudent to wait until Alonna was used to her and Xander being separated before you started dating him? And by the by, I refuse to believe you do anything other than ‘date’."

"Oh really," Wesley shot her a half-amused smile. "One hadn’t noticed." Faith shot her Watcher a glare that lacked any real heat. She was too relieved he’d taken the revelation about her and Xander as well as he had to risk an argument. "Oh good lord," suddenly the colour drained from her Watcher’s face, "Faith."

"Shit," Faith cursed as she looked towards her Watcher was looking. It was the park’s carousel, a boy’s grey-skinned corpse lying on top of it, a girl’s corpse lying in front of it, each child had one arm out-stretched, a black triangle drawn on their palms. "This job doesn’t get any better."

Virginia kept her racing heart in check, but only just. First she was attacked by half a dozen men probably hired by her father, then she was rescued by these uniquely-powered youths who were perhaps the solution to many of their problems.

Her escort came to a halt outside a non-descript two-storey house in one of Sunnydale’s nicer but not flashy neighbourhoods. "I only hope they’re back from their date," muttered Scott as he knocked on the door.

A minute or so later and the door opened to reveal a bleary-eyed short man with mussed hair and irritated expression. "Ach, not it isn’t grand to see you kids, but doesn’t the term ‘night off’ have any meaning for you?"

"We have a situation," Owen pushed his way in, the others following behind. Virginia listened as Owen told her story to the apparent Irishmen.

"Uh," the Irishman’s wife, a woman with ringlets similar to her own, tapped at a computer, "According to this fan site, Red Sonja was a Hyborean Age heroine, a compatriot of Conan the Barbarian. As such she was skilled in swordsmanship, archery, horse-riding, tracking, and the other martial arts of the time."

"Ach, okay," the Irishmen looked towards him, his geniality replaced by soberness, "this world is far older than you know, the likes of demons, vampires, and mages all exist."

"Oh I already know that," Virginia interrupted. "My father’s a major-league mage in LA." Virginia’s brow furrowed. "What’s confusing me is the power required to execute this spell-."

"Is far beyond anything a human or run of the mill demon could manage," her host finished with a nod before looking speculatively at her. "Who is your father?"

Virginia took a breath. She had to take a chance here, let these people in, but it was so hard, she’d been running, hiding for so long. "My name isn’t Veronica Benson," she admitted, "it’s Virginia Bryce-."

"Oh," Doyle interrupted with a mutter, "your father’s Magnus Bryce of Bryce Industries."

"Yeah," Virginia nodded, "five years ago I found out that the reason he’d been so successful was because of a deal he’d made to sacrifice me to the demon Yeska on his fiftieth birthday-."

Virginia nodded, the old betrayal rising up in her throat to choke her once again. After a moment she continued. "I was only fifteen at the time, but I already had a sizable allowance, so I saved every cent I could, raided my bank accounts, then ran the moment I turned eighteen."

Virginia grimaced. "I didn’t have a lot of money, at least not to live a life on. But the real estate prices in this town are really low…" Virginia looked at her companions. "But I do have plenty of cash in a trust fund my mother set up for me, but I daren’t touch it for fear of my father using it to track me down. But if you helped me, I’d be willing to fund your operation."

Everyone looked towards the Irishman, their apparent leader. After a second he shrugged and smiled roguishly. "We’ll have to wait until we can round up the others, but what sort of knights of renown would be if we turned down a damsel in distress?"

"It was a real bad scene, G, I mean I’ve seen a lot of bad shit both before and since bein’ Called, but this was fuckin’ kids, G! It had to be a demon sacrifice or some such shit, right?"

Giles forced himself not to look away when the Slayer stared at him, her pool-like, expressive orbs filled with a heart-breaking hope. Beneath all her devil-may-care attitude and bravado, there beat a truly caring heart who sometimes wanted to believe the best in people even when life should have taught her better. "Perhaps we can look into it," he allowed, exchanging doubtful looks over the Slayer’s head to his fellow country-man stood behind her.

"How delightful," he murmured. The thought of the Slayer’s boisterous nature being augmented by the Hulk’s berserker rage sent chills through him.

"I rather thought we’d wait until the morning-," he sighed at the brunette’s sudden puppy-dog look. Considering some of the sulphurous language he’d heard coming from the young ‘lady’s’ mouth that look shouldn’t have been effective at all and yet it was. "But there’s no time like the present I suppose."

"Wicked!" Faith beamed. "I’ll go home. Wake me when you’ve got some results."

"Hey, a babe needs her beauty sleep, you two old codgers are already lost causes."

Before either of them could defend themselves against the obvious injustice of the Slayer’s words, she’d disappeared from his house. Giles sighed wearily as he turned to his fellow country-man and glared. "Oh you did a fine job raising your waif and stray, she’s so respectful."

"I’ve tried ‘Arcane Symbols’, ‘World’s Cults’, ‘Demonic Markings’, ‘Mythical Icons’, and ‘Sigils of Power’, nothing." Wesley slammed the last book shut. "And on that note, just how long before your fiancée has her demonic database on line?"

Giles grimaced. "It’s apparently taking longer than she’d hope to safe-guard against something like the Moloch mess re-occurring."

"Well I never thought I’d be desirous of modern technology," Wesley opened another book. "Oh," Giles noticed his younger country-man stiffen, "we have a problem."

"I’d say," Giles glared at the book his fellow Watcher pushed over to him, something brushing against his head.

"Yes this town is in dire danger, we’ll have to round-up the others," Giles commented.

"No of course not," Giles grunted. "They’re the root of this problem after all and we need to catch them by surprise. After all, they’re powerful, crafty, and not to be trusted."

"I trust you have all seen the symbol?" Giles queried as he paced the floor, impatient to have this terrible threat dealt with.

"The evil has lived in this town for too long!" Cordelia declared. "And wearing such tacky clothes."

"Yes," Giles shot the former cheerleader a pained look, "fashion should be our first concern."

"Well it should be somebody’s! Some of those outfits Faith wears would make a stripper blush, and hello Willow and Tara, the seventies want their flower power back!"

"Oh dear," Giles rubbed at his forehead, "perhaps we’ll deal with both problems at once."

"Yeah," Gunn cracked his knuckles, "this town has been dirty for too long."

"Excellent," Wesley nodded, "then we’re in agreement. And this is how we’re going to do it…."

Jenny looked up from her laptop as Giles walked in. "Hello honey," the gypsy witch smiled, seeking to entice him from the path of righteousness with her wiles but he was wise to her now, "how did-." The Romany gasped as he sent a psionic blast into her head, pushing her beyond the edge of unconsciousness, her head dropping on the desk as she passed out.

Giles smiled down at his former girl-friend as Freddy walked in. "Inject her with the drugs, I’ll cuff her."

"Hey Oz!" Willow beamed as her boyfriend walked into their off-campus apartment.

"Hey," Oz smiled then in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, her boy-friend threw his arms around her shoulders. She gasped as she felt something prick her neck, then gasped again as her eyes blurred. She raised her suddenly heavy head and tried to look at Oz only to find her vision had blurred.

Amy and Tara broke off from their extended and enthused make-out session at a knock at the door. Amy giggled at Tara’s flushed expression before letting out a shout. "Who is it?"

"Alonna," the former street kid shouted back, "hurry up, we’ve got news about the kids."

"Ohhh," Amy climbed off the bed and rushed over to the door, Tara following behind. "What do you know?" she asked as she opened the door.

"That," Amy gasped as a wind picked both her and Tara up and flung them into their apartment’s far wall, "you won’t be hurting any more kids." Her mouth opened in something, a protest or a question, she wasn’t certain, but before she could speak Heidi and Joanthan ran in and injected them both with something.

Faith forced herself to relax when Wesley walked in with Xander, Gunn, and Cordy. Probably trying to Chamberlain a peace truce, although she should kick Gunn’s ass for what he did to Xan. "Hey," Faith rose and strutted over to the quartet, "any news on just who killed the kids? Owwww!" Faith ducked under a right cross from Xander, grabbing her boy-friend’s wrist and pulling him into Wesley’s path. "What the fuck?"

"Owwww!" she gasped when in the course of sidestepping a right from Gunn she caught an elbow to the side of the head from Cordy. Dazed, she stumbled back into Gunn’s path and caught an uppercut to the jaw

"Shit!" Faith grunted as the blow lifted her from her feet and flung her into the foot of the steps, back arching from the painful landing. Faith shrugged the pain off, ducking under a left from Cordy while grabbing Wesley by his arm and throwing him face-first into the wall, her foot slamming up to catch Gunn on the thigh, knocking him back a step. "What the hell is-, oooof!" Faith grunted as Cordy caught her with a knee to the gut, doubling her up and into a knee to the forehead from Xander that she managed to slap away.

"Oh fuck!" Faith saw stars when she caught a karate chop to the neck. Shrugging it off, she straightened into a right from Gunn that knocked her on her back. And then a dart thudded into her neck.

Faith grunted as she rolled up to her feet, her body becoming lethargic. She was too slow to block a left to the head from Cordy, too late to parry a heel to the instep from Xander that took her to her knees, leaving her helpless to a right to the jaw from Gunn that meant lights out.

Wood nodded as he picked up the phone and listened to Giles’ message. "You’ve got them all? Well done, I’ve been doing as you asked, ringing around formalising support. I believe there’s a consensus, we should take Faith and the witches down to the town hall, have a trial, and then burn them at the stake. Yes, it has a certain historical symmetry. It’s time this town was freed of their blight."

"Heard, but didn’t believe it," Kennedy shook her head. "Something is badly wrong."

Kennedy pursed her lips, falling into her natural role as group leader. "First we need to know about the kids." Seeing the others’ blank expressions, she continued. "I see no-one’s shown any photos of their families on the TV. We know everything about their deaths, but we don't even know their names. And if no one knows who they are, where did these pictures come from?"

Rona looked puzzled. "I don’t get your point. Isn’t what is happening to Faith and the others our priority?"

The red-head started typing as Rona looked towards her, fear in her fellow potential’s eyes. "Do you think they’re really going to kill Faith and the others?"

"Oh." They looked towards Vi. "'Two Children Found Dead. Mysterious Mark...' No. No. These children were found near Omaha fifty years ago."

"Wait," Rona shook her head, "that can’t be right, but don’t they look as the two kids in the newspaper?"

"There’s more," Vi added. "One hundred years ago. Utah... Two Children... Rural Community Torn Apart by Suspicion."

"There’s more," Vi added. "This one is dated three hundred and fifty years ago and has a hand drawing of the two children. These kids have never been seen alive, just dead. A lot."

"Let me read that report," Kennedy ordered, "I’m the one doing German. Written by a cleric from a village near the Black Forest. He found the bodies himself. Two children. Gretta Strauss, age six. Hans Strauss, eight."

"Oh boy," both she and Rona looked towards Vi. "Hans and Gretta. I remember one night Wood and Wesley were here talking about some fairy tales have a grain of truth running through them."

Kennedy furrowed. "You’re saying they’re Hansel and Gretel? Yummy gingerbread house?"

Vi nodded. "Of course! Well, it makes sense now." Kennedy exchanged an amused look with Rona. If she was the leader, then Vi was definitely the nerdy trainee Watcher. "Some demons thrive by fostering hatred and persecution amongst the mortal animals. Not by destroying men, but by watching men destroy each other, they feed us our darkest fear and turn peaceful communities into vigilantes." Vi pursed her lips. But there’s one thing I don’t get. Why aren’t we affected?"

"Even I can work out the answer to that," Rona confidently exclaimed, "all the mobs were made up of adults. None of us have turned eighteen, the demon only affects adults, we’re immune." Rona paused. "What’s our next move?"

"Wood said they were at City Hall," Kennedy replied. "We’ll have to head there and break the others out. Killing the demon should end the spell."

"I like the way she ignored all the super-powered muscle between us and the would-be sacrifices," Vi replied.

Kennedy threw her hands up into the air. "Don’t give me problems, give me solutions people!"

"You’ve heard the stories!" Giles ranted, eyes filling with hatred as he strode the conference room in front of the five restrained women, the room’s tables chopped to firewood under their feet. "Felt the heartache of lost children! Well it’s time this town said no more!" He pointed at the captives. "They’ve hidden amongst us for too long, it’s time they were put to the fire and sent back to the hell they escaped from!" He pointed at the blown-up photo of the murder victims. "For them, for all our children!"

"Holey moley," Kennedy whistled as she looked through the streets outside the city hall. They were thronged with placard-wielding and chanting protestors, their faces all masks of hatred. "McCarthyism is live and well in little ol Sunnydale."

"Yeah funny," Rona snorted. "But your comedy routine doesn’t get us inside. How are we gonna get through the mob?"

"Didn’t the old Mayor used to be a demon with vampires on staff?" Vi commented. Kennedy joined Rona in starting at their fellow potential. "There must be sewer access," Rona groaned, "it’s just a case of finding it."

Faith groaned as she forced her eyes to open, her head throbbing. Bile rose in her stomach as she raised her head. "Oh boy, shouldn’t have done that-." Faith gasped as she registered the wood piled at her feet and her arms tied to a pillar. "Just for reference, not into bondage." Her eyes widened as she saw Giles approaching holding a torch. "Hey G-Man -."

"Slayer not witch." Faith grunted at the backhand, then pulled her head around and glared stonily at the Watcher. "You better be under a spell, otherwise your new nickname is gonna be ‘Wheels’ and not ‘cause you got a cool new hog."

The elderly Englishman flinched at her tone and then stepped forward, a sneer on his face. "You do not frighten me."

"Unfasten me," Faith strained at her ropes but thanks to the drugs pumping through her system couldn’t snap them, "and I‘ll show you what fear is."

"Kay, that’s just creepy." Faith blinked as the two murdered children appeared by Giles’ side. "Is it strange that I’m the one with the raging hangover, but I can still see how weird it is to be ‘Sixth Sensing’ it?"

Faith groaned as the Watcher set the wood by her feet on fire. "I guess that’s a yes then." Suddenly the roof crashed in and the three potentials fell to the floor. "And just when you think things can’t get any worse….."

"Oh boy!" the potential groaned as she rushed to the duo guarding the doors. "This is going to hurt."

"Vi, see to the rest, I’ll deal with Hansel and Grettel." Kennedy conjured a fireball up in her hand. "Little children shouldn’t play with fire," she jibed. The boy and girl screamed as the fireball hit them, grabbing one another in an embrace. A moment later the two children morphed into a seven foot all demon with pointed ears and huge fangs, its long, tangled hair dangling down to its wide shoulders. "Oh, I really should think my plans through."

"You’re telling me," Faith muttered as the room erupted in screams, people stampeding to the doors, the fight between Rona, Cordy, and Gunn coming to a shocked halt.

"You know what?" Kennedy heard the snap of Faith’s ropes snapping. "Not nearly as convincing in that outfit." The Slayer flew past her and at the demon. "Oh and BTW, thanks Ken, you and the kids did great."

Magnus looked through the papers arrayed on his desk, his attention diverted by thoughts of his daughter’s return and plans for the upcoming ceremony. His head snapped up and his mouth dropped open when his office’s doors crashed open and Benny flew in, his flight only ending when he crashed into his desk and slid to the floor, a dazed expression on his face. "You know," a group in their early twenties to early thirties strode in, "you just you can’t hire good muscle these days."

Magnus started to rise only to be shoved back down in his chair by a broad-shouldered boy. "Try a spell," he gasped when one of the youths produced a fireball in his palm, "and I’ll deep-fry you."

Magnus’ eyes bulged as his daughter strode in, immaculate in a trouser suit. "Ginny!" he blustered. "I’m warning you-."

"You’re going to do what daddy?" Virginia perched on the edge of his desk and started going through his correspondence. "Have me killed? Sacrifice me to a demon, perhaps?"

"Here’s how it’s going to be daddy," Ginny’s alabaster features turned to stone. "You’re going to give me all the paperwork relating to that two million dollar trust fund Mommy set up for me before I was born," Ginny smiled slightly. "Um, it’s been twenty-one years, imagine how much it’s worth with all that lovely interest. And then you’re going to leave me alone, or my friends will make a bigger mess of you than any one demon can manage, understand?"

"I understand." Magnus nodded weakly. "The papers are in the safe. I…I’ll just get them."

"Oh and daddy," Virginia smiled sweetly, "your sacrifice wouldn’t have worked anyway, I haven’t been a virgin in a very long time."

FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (32/?)

"The Pylean invasion was a comprehensive failure," Holland announced. "The Circle Of The Black Thorn become impatient with our failure to secure the Hellmouth."

Lindsey chuckled. "Well the last plan did involve one of them helping, so it's not entirely our fault."

"Would you care to point that out?" Holland icily commented. When Lindsey's smirk disappeared, he continued, satisfied by his subordinate's quailing. "I thought not." Holland paused again, pressing a button on his laptop that saw the PowerPoint presentation move onto the next slide.

Both his subordinates gasped at the idea. "Resurrections of this type will be extremely difficult," Lindsey commented. "Not to mention expensive."

"Magnus Hainsley has already been contracted," Holland replied. "And at a considerable cost even for this office."

"They're dangerous, uncontrollable monsters even by the usual standard of their race," commented Lindsey. "We rarely use their sort for anything more than low-level positions, they're completely untrustworthy at the best of times, but these are far more unpredictable and vicious than usual. How are we supposed to command them?"

"This decision isn't ours to make. The Circle has decreed this as our next course of action." Holland grimaced. Lindsey wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. "It'll take several weeks until Hainsley's ready for the spell. You'd be advised to look for an alternative solution in the intervening period."

"Oh bloody hell!"

Jenny rose as she heard the clang of pots and the sound of something being flung to the ground. Rising, she hurried to the kitchen, leaning against the entrance as she peered in. "Are you alright, Rupert?"

Her boy-friend stiffened but didn't turn to face her. "Those bloody insidious kids," her fiancée kicked one of the cupboards, not hard enough to dent, but hard enough to rattle the pans inside. "One tries to stay strictly professional with them, but they have a way of worming their way inside. First Buf-, then Xander and Willow, and since then it's been a veritable tidal wave."

"And you care about them?" Jenny whispered.

"Of course I bloody do, with their sacrifice, enthusiasm, and humour, one would have to be bloody stone not to," Giles grabbed a hold of the counter and held on, falling into one of his infrequent moody silences.

"Giles," Jenny walked over and placed a gentle arm around his shoulder, "what's wrong?"

Her boy-friend looked towards her, pain etched in his noble features. "They're falling apart," he replied, his voice hoarse. "Our family, my children, are falling apart, and I can't do anything to stop it." Giles turned away from her and looked out of the window. "Less than a week to Christmas." He shook his head. "The first year I hadn't brought any decorations, bought any presents, done anything except planned to get out a book I hadn't gotten round to reading yet. Something by, well I can't remember now. I'd just sat down to my Christmas Eve lunch when there was a knock on my door. It was those infernal bloody kids, complete with a tree and a box of decorations." Giles threw his head back and laughed, eyes briefly sparkling. "Xander said it was the town's 'adopt a Brit for Christmas campaign'. Cheeky bugger, bloody typical."

"What happened?" Jenny softly prompted when Giles fell silent.

"I tried to put them off, but as you know, American teens have an inability to take 'no' for an answer," Giles half-smiled. "It seemed they'd invited themselves around for Christmas lunch the next day, them and Wesley, as you know none of them have the best home lives and were determined to have the place looking festive."

"Of course, I hadn't bought them anything, hadn't bought anyone anything except," the man flushed as he glanced towards her before continuing. "So I grumpily acquiesced, leaving them to decorate as I braved the Christmas rush to rustle up what presents and food I could as well as a CD of Christmas music." Her lover shuddered. "I'd rather fight the hordes of hell than tussle with housewives for the last yuletide log again. And buggered if the next day I wasn't actually looking forward it." Giles took a rattling breath. "Three years we've been doing it, being one big group." The Watcher shook his head sadly. "I don't think we'll be doing it this year."

"Why not?" Jenny demanded, suddenly furious that Giles' charges had caused him pain even if by an unwitting side-effect of their actions. "You're their leader, they should be here if you want them. Get what you need, they'll be here if they know what's good for them!"

"Dear, you do understand this is the season of good-," Giles gulped at her glare, "I'll start making lists immediately. Do you suppose Heidi and Freddy will want to come?"

Festive pop songs alternated with Christmas carols being piped through the crowded malls sound system, adding to the atmosphere generated by the mall's decorations, both the traditional – nativity scenes, holly wreaths, and mistletoes, and the modern – fairy lights, spray-on snow, Merry Christmas signs, tinsel, and glittering baubles. The smell of mince pies, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, roast turkey, and eggnog amongst other traditional smells wafted out from the shopping centre's restaurants and eateries. Faith ducked in an out of the crowds, soaking in the mood, her eyes moving constantly from one excited child's face to the next. She guessed life as a Slayer kinda precluded having kids even if she'd been emotionally capable, but she could enjoy the happiness in the kids of the people they protected.

But hey, she had important business here today. Today was Christmas shopping, and her priority was gettin' presents for the gang, especially Xander 'cause he was her boy-friend, Wes 'cause she wasn't quite sure what he was but she owed him, and Alonna 'cause she wanted her best friend back. Sorta like, sorry I stole your boy-friend, but here's a kick-ass gift. Yeah, that really was gonna work.

Faith ignored her mood's downturn as she ducked into a record store, the mall's main soundtrack being exchanged for the shop's much rockier soundtrack of Limp Bizkit's latest stylings. She knew what she was gettin' Xan, she'd make a trip to the mall's comic book store, for some reason the geeks there always fell over themselves to offer her the best prices possible. She kinda had an idea what she was gonna get both the Brits, and Cordy was easy, or maybe that was just the rumours on the Bronze toilet wall, but she was kinda at a loss for some of the others, especially Alonna.

Faith rolled her eyes as she stepped past a couple smooching by the R&B racks. "Jeez, get a room." She started towards the back, searching right and left for an inspiration then grinned as she saw a framed poster of Sid Vicious. "Perfect for-." She spun around at the sound of a hand cracking against flesh, hackles rising instinctively at the sound she'd heard way too many times in the past.

Her eyes widened as she saw the previously lovey-dovey couple fighting, the man grabbing and pulling on his girl-friend's blonde locks, the girl raking her fingernails down his face and biting at him. "Wow, I knew Christmas shopping was rough, but thi-." Her voice trailed off as she sensed something behind her and whirled to see a sharp-featured four feet 'man' dressed entirely in black skipping out of the shop's emergency exit.

"That ol' Spidey-sense is tingling," Faith muttered as she changed direction and hurried to the back of the shop, kicking open the fire exit and starting out into the seasonal chill.

"Shit!" Faith threw herself back against the shop wall when a set of razor sharp nails shredded the air to the left of her face. "What the fuck!"

Her attackers were a quartet of green-furred things with fat, low-hanging guts, long arms that hung almost down to the floor, thick, black eyebrows above yellow oval-shaped eyes, and glinting fangs set in gaping maws.

"Kill her!" the tiny man she'd seen in the shop was behind the beasts, jumping up and down on the spot, fingers pointing at her. "Rip her throat out! Feed on her salty flesh, drink her rich blood!"

"So," Faith blocked a right on her forearm, wincing as the creature's claws tore a set of furrows through her jacket and her skin, "not the president of my fan-club then?" Faith wriggled like an eel away from another slash and side-kicked her attacker to the left in his slender chest, knocking him on his ass.

Faith leapt into the air as the other two demons charged her, her thrust kick knocking another on his back. The other grabbed her around the waist as she plummeted to the earth, ignoring her elbow to the head to crash her into the shop's unforgiving brick wall.

"Oh shit!" Faith's back arched as pain shot through her back and head, biting down on her bottom lip as she drove a second elbow into the demon's head, this time knocking him to the left. Faith saw the demon barrelling at her from her right, but was too slow to avoid a set of nails slicing through her shoulder. "Oh fuck!" Even as her arm flopped painfully by her side she swung her leg up in a toe-kick that connected with the demon racing at her front, lifting him from his feet and flinging him backwards.

Faith barely had time to take a breath when the remaining trio were charging her. Faith wriggled out of the way of a downward slash at her face, but then gasped as a hand grabbed her flowing locks and threw her back into the wall, bouncing off the wall and into a slash across her right breast that ripped through her gym vest to open a stinging tear. Faith sidestepped a slash aimed at her throat but stepped into a rake across her right hip that she retaliated to with a backfist to the face of her attacker. Faith grunted as she blocked an attempted slash to the chest on her arm before leaping into the air and thrust kicking the demon in front of her in his portly midsection.

Even as the demon fell away, his companions grabbed her while she was still in mid-air, and flipped her around so that she was falling onto her head. "Crap!" Faith stuck her hands out behind her, the moment her fingers touched the ground she powered through them, flipping back to her feet.

"Ahhha!" Pain roared through her head as one of the demons' finger-nails lashed through her forehead, opening up a cut. Faith stumbled to one knee, a knee to the face jarring her consciousness still further.

Fighting back a wave of queasiness, Faith hooked an arm around the demon's knee, twisting at the waist, and flung the demon into his companion's path. One of the previously downed demons waddled into her path, blocking Faith's kick on its forearm while lashing down across her face with its other hand. Faith snarled as she lunged out, grabbing the monster by its scrawny face and pulling it into a combination knee to the gut and butt to the face that caved in bone. Then she stumbled away, head throbbing, body weak, and blood dripping from her multitude of wounds.

Faith shook and trembled, the chill that would have normally been unnoticeable to a Slayer freezing every bone, her legs seemed impossibly heavy and her vision was blurring. "Oh thank god," she croaked, her throat dry, as she managed to make out her house in front of her. After a weary, rattling breath, she stumbled up the path and reached into her pocket for her key.

Faith lurched into the house when the door opened before she had chance to unlock it. "Wes, thank god," she looked up at her Watcher then gasped as the Englishman grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her down into a knee into the gut. The air exploded from her tortured body as she fell onto her hands and knees, rolling into the hallway and away from Wes' feet.

Faith grabbed the hallway table and pushed it into her Watcher's path as she pulled herself up on the wall, her eyes widening as she saw the being from the music shop now stood in their garden grinning at her. And then Wes grabbed her hair and drove her face into the wall while simultaneously jamming a knee into her kidneys. " Ahhhha!" Faith jammed her elbow into the Englishman's throat, her vision blurring, Faith turned to face the Englishman but not in time to avoid a downward right to the forehead even as she uppercutted him to the jaw.

The Englishman grunted as he flopped into the wall opposite, sliding down it to the ground. Faith turned her head, glared at the giggling demon, kicked the door shut, and then collapsed on top of her Watcher.

Xander trudged up to Faith's house. His slow pace wasn't any indication of a cooling of his feelings towards his new girl-friend, on the contrary, he couldn't wait to see her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, and hear her saucy laugh. No, it was Wesley, who as Faith's guardian really disapproved of their relationship. Of course the Englishman adored his Slayer, so would never hurt her with his feelings, so he got the full brunt of his dissatisfaction.

Lucky him.

Still, he'd rather the Englishman take his emotions out on him rather than disrupt the only happy home his girl had ever had. Xander stopped at the door and raised his hand to knock on it.

Then something indefinable crawled up and down his neck, a sixth sense he'd developed since his Halloween possession. Xander looked left and right but couldn't see anything, and it was too light anyway for vampires.

But not for other demons.

That comforting thought uppermost in his mind, he knocked on the door, eyes moving constantly, weighing up any threat. Then he grimaced when he didn't receive any answer and tried again only to receive no reply. Impatience warring with worry, he tried the door and gasped as it swung over to reveal a beaten Faith lying on top of an equally beaten Wesley.

"Faith!"

He pulled the Slayer off the Watcher, noting just how battered she looked, blood caking her arm, leg, chest, and fast. Heart thumping, he eased her into a sitting position before placing his fingers on her neck, checking her pulse even as registered once again just how tiny the dark-eyed beauty really was.

Once he was satisfied her pulse was alright, he turned to Wesley. A slow rage that was roughly half-Xander and half-Castle built up within him as he turned towards the unconscious Watcher. Xander crouched down, grabbed two handfuls of shirt and heaved the limp man to his feet. "I'm going to enjoy this," he snarled, his fist going back.

"Don't."

He looked over his shoulder at his wakening girl-friend, joy at her return to consciousness warring with irritation at her words. "I'm not going to let this bastard get away with hitting you. I don't care if he's your Watcher."

Faith's eyes flashed with exasperation. "Spell, wasn't him."

"Oh," Xander continued looking at the girl-friend, "you're sure?"

"Just put-," Faith winced, "put him down."

"Okay." Xander reluctantly laid the Englishman across the stairs' bottom few steps. "Are you-."

"I'll be cool," Faith flashed him a wholly unconvincing smile. "Just get some water or something to wake him with."

"Right." Xander marched off into the kitchen.

Wesley spluttered as something cold and wet hit his face. He resolutely tried to keep his eyes closed but the wet cloth he vaguely guessed it was, hit his face again. "Oh bloody hell." He grunted as his eyes opened to see his charge's battered face staring down at him, concern in her dark orbs.

Oh no, bile rose up in his throat as he recalled that some of that battering had been down to him. He'd assaulted her when she'd stumbled into the house, already injured and looking for the sanctuary of home. Instead he'd repaid that fragile trust with a brutalisation.

Again, after the spell just two weeks ago. Oh good lord, Wes' stomach lurched, he'd thought for so long to give this troubled girl a safe home, and now this. "Faith," he forced his eyes to meet the Slayer's and gingerly rotated his jaw, it appeared the tough as nails street-fighter had cracked him a good one, "I'm so sorr-."

Faith waved a hand at him, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes. "These spells are a bitch, I'd just like one which got people pissed at the bad guys for a change."

"Indeed," he nodded, "I echo those sentiments." There was an uncomfortable pause. "What caused this spell?" Wesley listened with growing incredulity to Faith's description, a wild suspicion forming in his head. He'd thought he was just a myth, but then again so much of what they faced was considered mythical. "Perhaps you should get washed and changed while Xander and I rally the troops."

"Yeah," the Slayer stalked past him, noticeably careful to keep out of his reach before nimbly climbing up the steps.

The moment the young Bostonian was out of earshot, Xander spun to face him, outrage written across his features. "How could you-."

"Just don't start," he shot the younger man a warning glare before looking towards the lounge. "I'll get the books out while you phone everyone." He could have pointed out that it was only recently that it was only recently that Xander had joined him in attacking Faith, but doubtless that would only inflame Xander's guilt and further escalate the argument.

"Aaaaah," Faith groaned as she gingerly raised her arms and pulled her shirt over her head, the fabric tugging on the drying blood. The cuts she'd suffered an hour or so ago had already healed, although her injured areas were still bruised, every movement tugging on the new flesh, as well as the bloodied cotton pulling on the newly knitted skin . And Christ did it hurt.

That wasn't the real problem though. Faith swayed as images from her pre-Watcher childhood assailed her. Images of her mom's boy-friends who hadn't wanted a brat underfoot, gettin' in the way of their fun, and the guys she'd hooked up with who hadn't treated her as anything more than a cute piece of ass at best, or a punching bag at worst.

Wes and the others weren't like that, although it had taken her time to fully understand that, Faith mused as she pulled her trousers down, wincing slightly at the ache in her hip. But when things like this happened, she couldn't help but think of the past and the path she'd been headin' down, junkie whore with a succession of abusive boy-friends, only caring about when and where she'd get the next drink or fix. Like mother like daughter.

Suddenly Faith found herself crouched over the toilet dry-heaving into it, rounded chest rising and falling as her system vainly attempted to rid itself of the disgust inside her. When that failed, Faith rose, wiped her dry lips with the back of her hand, and stumbled into the shower, hoping the shower's hot jets would revitalise her.

Ten minutes later and she was climbing out of the shower, soaking hair plastered to her glistening shoulders. Faith grabbed hold of the wash basin as her legs almost buckled again, forcing herself to calm before drying off, wrapping a towel around herself, picking up the torn clothes and throwing them in the bin, even as the street kid inside her revolted against such wasteful action, before creeping out onto the landing.

Where she met up with her Watcher leaning against the banister rail. "Faith, ah," the Watcher's reddening face at her barely-covered by a towel appearance would have been funny any other day, but today she could only wonder what he was thinking, "the others have all been called and have indeed started arriving." The Watcher licked his lips. "I'm sorry for before. If you need to talk-."

"I'm five by five," Faith nodded curtly, relieved by how little her voice shook.

"Excellent," the Englishman nodded, "but if you change your mind and do wish to talk, either myself or Rupert, or perhaps Jenny would be willing to lend an ear, if you wish a woman's perspective," the Englishman offered before retreating back downstairs.

Faith stared after the Englishman's departing back, a call dying on her lips. Then she squared her shoulders and walked into her bedroom, closing and leaning against the door as she re-gathered her composure, a question nagging at her. What if whatever magic wouldn't have worked if they truly cared about her? What if they only had her around 'cause she was the Slay-. "Get a hold of yourself, girl," Faith let out a rattling sigh as she opened her wardrobe and began looking for something to wear.

Once she'd dressed, she crept downstairs, sneaked into the kitchen, grabbed a Red Bull, and reluctantly dragged herself into the crowded front room.

"Ah Faith," Giles rose, shooting her a warm smile that soothed but failed to evaporate her misgivings, "please, take my seat." The older of the three Watchers continued to talk as she silently padded across the room to sit in the offered chair, conscious of the eyes on her, for once uncomfortable with their appraisal. Once she'd sat, the Watcher continued to talk. "While we've been waiting for you we've done considerable study into just attacked you-."

"You research skipper, you," Xander teased with a wink that she returned with a tentative smile.

Giles glared at her boy-friend before continuing. "At first we considered the possibility your attacker was a half-demon by the name of Billy Blim, however several factors dissuaded us from that thought." Giles looked towards Wesley.

"First amongst them was your description, Blim might be a half-demon, but his description was most definitely of a normal, healthy male. Then there was the fact you described both males and females being infected, Blim can only infect males, and finally, Blim can only infect by touch, the demon never," Wes' voice caught, his eyes shifting from her, "touched me."

"So who was it?" Faith's fists clenched as she snapped.

The Englishmen stared at her searchingly, then Giles continued, his voice as calm as before, almost as her outburst hadn't drained the room of energy. "Your description of the demon was very helpful," Giles looked towards a suddenly pale-faced Willow, "Willow entered it into her program and came up with a number of matches that she narrowed down by adding its power leaving only one match." Giles paused. "Jack Frost."

Faith's eyes narrowed. "I'm guessin' he's different from the myths?"

"Indeed." Wesley nodded before glancing at her with concern. "After-, after an injury a Slayer normally requires food to replace calories burnt in the healing process. Would you like me to get you something?"

Faith shot her Watcher a grateful look and nodded. "I'll-."

"Nonsense," Wesley interrupted Xander's volunteering with a shake of the head, "you'll fill her up on some of your American junk food, I'll get her something more substantial. Perhaps a fry-up?"

"With fried bread?" she tentatively requested one of her Wesley-introduced favourites.

Wesley shot her a fond look. "I'm sure I can manage that." Wesley looked around the room. "And before you start, yes I'll cook some for everyone, just wait your bloody turns, you bloody gannets." Wesley looked towards Xander. "I'll need an assistant and you're volunteered. Come on." Wes' eyes turned to Giles. "Rupert-."

"Of course," the older Englishman stuffed his hands into his pockets as Wesley and Xander hurried out of the lounge. "There are darker legends about Frost, far darker than those that are more widely-known. It appears that Jack Frost was one of Santa Claus' elves-."

"You mean Santa Claus is real?" Faith queried.

"Yes, but again the legends are somewhat different from the reality," Jenny put in,

"Typical Christian propaganda," muttered Willow.

"Thank you and happy Hanukkah to you, Miss Rosenberg." Willow flushed at Giles' sarcastic comment. "Rather than a jolly fat man with chronically bad dress sense and appalling eating habits, Santa Claus is a good demon, one who spreads hope across the world throughout the year, not just as Christmas, his elves aiding him in his work. However one elf took no pleasure in his work and found a way to pervert his powers so that rather than spreading harmony and promoting love-."

"Heh," Willow giggled, "every man in Sunnydale's spread Harmony." The witch's blush deepened at Giles' amused glare. "Just lightening the mood," she squeaked.

Giles shook his head. "His powers ignite a homicidal rage in anyone he focuses on, a power that is only disrupted by unconsciousness or death."

Faith stared at the Watcher, her mouth dry. "Faith must have passed other people on the way home," Freddy commented, the reporter's tone nervous, still unused to Scooby gang membership, "why not have them attack her?"

"Ah," Giles glanced at the young man before directing his gaze back to her. "That's a very good question Mr. Iverson. Frost's power has a feedback to him, it causes him a feeling of ecstasy when he uses it, actually all elves have it. However for Frost, the feeling is increased when he uses his power on people who truly care for one another, lovers, family members, friends."

"He wanted the most bang for his buck," Faith interrupted, her heart beating for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. "And he could only get that by getting someone," she turned her face away, forcing the tears away before looking back at the Englishman, "someone who really cared about me to hurt me."

Giles shot her a sympathetic look. "Exactly."

Faith took a second to get her breath before continuing. "And what about the spell, is there anyway to immunise yourself?"

"As you've seen the spell wears off with unconsciousness," Giles replied. "However there's also an immunisation for the spell, enchanted mistletoe on a string necklace."

"Mistletoe?" queried Oz, the guitarist's face characteristically inscrutable.

"There's a reason that it's traditional for people to kiss under it," Giles replied. "It's long been used by druids and herbalists in any number of rituals or potions."

"What 'bout those green things?" Faith queried.

"They are-," Giles hesitated, "Grinches."

Faith snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yes, they're another story that appears to have its root in truth," Giles continued. "They're a monster that hates happiness in all its forms, a nasty and vindictive beast-."

"And if his next line is that Snyder's one, I for one will be unsurprised," Faith heard Jonathan's mutter.

"If a child goes missing at this time of the year, a charity is robbed, or a soup kitchen burnt down, it is often a Grinch working to disrupt the festive season's jollity," Giles explained. "Doubtless Frost has persuaded some Grinches that allying themselves with him will only improve their chances at succeeding at their mutual goals."

"Kay," Faith forced herself to concentrate. "So how do we kill Frost?"

"As to that," Giles rubbed at his forehead, "it is a little complicated. First he has to die twice, at the hands of both halves of a couple utilising the same weapon. Not only do their weapons kill him, but their love does too."

"'Kay," Faith looked towards Giles and Jenny, "then you're the engaged couple-."

"Food's ready," Wesley walked in with a tray stuffed full of plates over-flowing with food, "at least the first lot is. Everyone tuck in, time for dealing with Frost later."

Giles pulled his coat closer in a vain effort to keep the unusually bitter cold out. Although perhaps the chill had more to do with the unaccustomed responsibility of being forced into being the linchpin their plan relied on. Faith's logic had been he and Jenny had been together longer than any other couple and they were engaged to boot, so they had the strongest bond.

Or to judge it a little more cynically, the Slayer didn't believe enough in her burgeoning relationship with Xander to trust their bond to be enough to kill Frost.

Whatever the reasoning, it had him and her girl-friend strolling through the streets of Sunnydale, Cordelia and Gunn hanging back with Oz in his van to rush in to back them up. Their course was directed by Xander via an ear-piece, the young man using a police scanner to sudden outbursts of violence throughout the city, an unfortunately haphazard method of tracking down the demon that was bloody hard work on the footwear.

"Oooooh," Xander's voice crackled in his ear. "See the park just opposite, cross over into it, there's reports of a family that were just feeding ducks together suddenly going Old Testament on one another!"

"Old Testament?" Giles raised an eyebrow as he crossed over. He supposed he should be grateful the young man had for once used a literary rather than pop culture reference. He nodded when he saw the van coming to a halt and Cordelia and Gunn disembarking, falling in behind him and his fiancée.

Then he sensed it, a sort of tingling at the back of his neck, turning his head, he saw the elf glaring at them from some thirty paces away, stood on a bench that a pair of his green-furred cronies were busy defacing. Giles dropped to one knee, drew his silenced Browning and fired.

The bullet caught the elf high in the shoulder, blood spilling out as he fell backwards and crashed to the ground. "Come on!" Giles glanced at Jenny before looking towards Cordelia and Gunn. "Will you-."

"We'll clear the way, Giles," Gunn confirmed.

All of a sudden half a dozen of the 'Grinches' were charging down the hill to attack them, but getting knocked flying like downed bowling pins by the twin wrecking balls that were Cordelia and Gunn. All the while he and Jenny were racing up the hill, intent on finishing off the elf that had dared hurt their Slayer.

The elf had barely reached his feet, blood pumping from his shoulder when Giles reached him and downed him again with a second bullet, this one to the head. The bullet put a huge crater in the mischief-maker's head, spinning him around like a top before dropping him down to the ground. Yet despite the fact the bullet had torn most of the creature's mouth away, it continued to glare up at him.

"Here," he passed the gun off to a squeamish-looking Jenny, "you finish him off." After a second, his girl-friend raised the automatic and pulled the trigger.

"Ah, Faith!" Giles smiled as he opened the door. "You and Wesley are the last to arrive!"

"The old homestead looks very festive," Wesley approved as he strode in, shrugging his trench-coat off as he did so.

"Who's actually come?" Faith eagerly demanded, the bruises and cuts on the young beauty's face already almost healed and her arms filled with clumsily but doubtlessly lovingly wrapped presents.

"Xander's here, as are the Gunns, Cordelia, Oz, Wood and the potentials, and the witches in addition to Tara's mother," Giles paused. "Freddy was invited, but chose to spend the day with his parents, and Jonathan and Heidi are holidaying with her parents."

"Right." Something indefinable, relief or regret he wasn't quite sure, flickered in the brunette's dark eyes.

"If you go through into the dining room," Giles pointed through the hallway, "Jenny was just taking out the turkey when I heard the doorbell. We'll be serving up in just a minute." Faith's mouth opened. "Yes, there'll be Christmas cake and pudding."

"Wicked."

Giles' smile faded as he followed the Slayer and her Watcher through the hallway. It wasn't the same as last year, he'd already noticed the atmosphere between Xander and Cordelia and the Gunns. That was only going to exacerbate now Faith had arrived. There had to be a way to mend fences, but he was buggered he could work out what it was.

Alonna sighed wearily as she stuffed the last of her books into her bag. It was the first day back at college after the Christmas break. She’d pretty much managed to avoid Faith except for Christmas day and any Slaying related-activity, she wasn’t letting that tramp push her out of that, it was too important to her. Now though it was back to school, and back to endure the three classes she shared with Faith – American history, Mythical Studies, and Medieval History.

Her shoulders slumped as she pulled her bag over her shoulder and headed out of her bedroom. "It’ll be alright you know," Gunn was stood on the corridor of the apartment, a sympathetic look on the big goof’s face.

"I know." Alonna forced a smile. It wasn’t like anyone had died or anything, she’d just been betrayed by her best-. Her bottom lip quivered then stiffened. "You’ll have to be off to wo-." Her voice trailed off, off to work with the cheating boy-friend her brother had beaten up.

Faith waved uncertainly as she saw Alonna entered the crowded cafeteria. When her ‘friend’ headed towards the other side of the room, Faith turned to her companions. "I’ll be right back."

Amy, Freddy, and Tara exchanged looks. "Maybe you should leave it," Tara timidly suggested.

"I’ll be right back," Faith repeated through gritted teeth before starting off to intercept her fellow demon-huntress. Her various enhancements meant she cut through the crowded hall with ease, reaching her erstwhile friend before she managed to reach a table. "Hey Al," Faith stuffed her hands in her pockets, self-consciously shuffling from foot to foot as she stood in front of the African-American Californian, "me and some of the others are over there, I waved to you but you didn’t see us-."

"I saw you," Alonna snapped, "I just ignored you. Outside of times I have to see you, I don’t want to have anything to do with you," the black girl sneered suddenly, "five by five?"

Faith’s temper flared only to be submerged beneath a tidal wave of guilt. "I know I did some bad shit but-."

"Some bad shit?" Faith blinked when Alonna stuck her face in hers. "Some bad shit? You think stealing my boyfriend when you’re supposed to me my best friend is ‘some bad shit’ do you Faith? I think it’s a whole lot worse, the worse another girl can do to her best friend. I think there’s a name for girls who did what you did, what do think that word is Faith?"

"’Kay," Faith raised her hands in surrender, "I’ll give you some room, only don’t cut yourself off from the others ‘cause you’re pissed with me, ‘kay?"

"You don’t tell me what to do!" the black girl hissed as she barged past Faith.

"Well that went well," Faith murmured. Suddenly realising everyone from the near-by tables had stopped to stare at her and not in the good ‘god I wish I had me a piece of that babe’ way, Faith shot a warning glare around. "No-one’s got anything to say have they?" She nodded when silence was her answer. "Yeah, that’s what I figured."

Alonna forced her eyes on the unappetising cup of machine made coffee before her, the café’s noise around her barely registering. It had been good to tell Faith what she thought about her.

Except it hadn’t made things any better. Hadn’t loosened the tightness in her chest or filled the hollowness in her belly. Alonna sighed.

"Good for you."

"Sorry?" She looked up into the sky-blue eyes of a blonde who hastily sat down, the typically California blonde made to stand out from the crowd by the gleaming necklace around her neck. "Do I know you?"

"No," the mystery blonde candidly admitted, "but I’ve just transferred in from an east coast college, and the admissions office tell me a Alonna Gunn is in my Mythical Studies class, I’m Anyanka Jenkins."

"Oh," Alonna nodded stiffly, hoping the Aniston-bobbed blonde would take the hint and leave.

Instead she continued to blather on. "The way you told her off, that must have been satisfying?" Alonna nodded mutely, it hadn’t been really. "But I bet it wasn’t what you really wished happened to her? What would you wish if you had the choice?"

"Yeah, I wish Faith Lehane was-." Alonna shook her head. No, she didn’t wish Faith was dead, she might hate her, but she didn’t want her dead. "I wish Faith Lehane had never come to Sunnydale!"

She blinked as the woman’s eyes flashed triumphantly and her face turned blotchy and ridged. "Wish granted!" she gleefully cackled.

"Yeah," suddenly uneasy Alonna rose. "It’s been good, but I’ve gotta go, see you."

That was the strange start to an even weirder day. Apart from a couple of lecturers, she saw hardly anyone she knew. True, she was trying to avoid Faith and the rest of the gang, but she didn’t see many of her other non-Slaying friends either, and precious few of her fellow Sunnydale High Alumni.

Finally though, the day was over and she was trudging home, the vague feeling of unease growing as she made her way through a strangely changed, even more subdued than normal, Sunnydale. There was something wrong, a deadness in the air. Finally though, she reached the ground-floor apartment she shared with Gunn and Cordelia, and tried her key. Her brow furrowed when her key failed to turn in the lock. "What the-?" she muttered before slamming on the door. "Charles! Cordy! The door’s locked!"

After a second the door creaked open, a pair of unfamiliar eyes peering over the door chain. "I…I d..don’t know who you are,"

"Let you in?" the man let out a hysterical laugh. "I’m not a novice you know, I’ve lived here for years!"

Alonna stared blankly at the slammed door, her mind struggling with what was happening and what to do next. Even for Sunnydale this was weird. She sighed, her shoulders slumping wearily as she realised the nearest of her friends was Xander. "This is so much fun."

Five minutes later and she was at Xander’s place. At least that was the theory, but instead of the gym that doubled as Xander’s apartment, there was the brunt-out warehouse that had been there originally. Alonna swallowed as she backed away from the wreckage, shock replacing unease. What was happening? "Oh look, isn’t she the cutest little morsel?"

Alonna spun around to face an arm in arm Willow and Amy. But a Willow and Amy she’d never seen before, both dressed in black leather skin-tight pants that was more Faith’s than either of their styles and plunging necklined and shoulderless bodices tied up the front with blood-red lace. Their outfits were finished off by matching knee-high black PVC boots and spiked collars. Amy smirked at her. "Isn’t she just? Let’s keep her!"

"Keep-." Before she could get anything more out she was crashing to the ground, head bouncing painfully off the ground when the two girls hit and knocked her over, their hands pawing at her. "What are-." The world seemed to slow as she belatedly realised just how cold the pair’s hands were.

Panic seized her but she forced herself to calm, driving an elbow into the side of Amy’s head while summonsing up the power to fling the two vampires from her. Terror took an even stronger hold when she failed to find the power that had become second nature to her.

"You hit me!" Alonna gasped when Amy grabbed her by her throat, tore her away from the wildly giggling Willow and flung her into the ruined warehouse, her flight taking out the remains of a wall. "My food never hits me!"

Alonna grunted as she hit the ground for the second time in as many minutes, confusion now warring with horror. She started to her feet, legs wobbly under her and even the most basic co-ordination seemingly impossible.

The two vampires advanced on her, their demonic faces now horrifyingly visible as they stalked her, Alonna reaching desperately inside her jacket for her stake. She was sure that the pounding of her heart must have been as deafening to the vampires as it was for her.

And then a black van screeched around the corner, the two vampires back-flipping out of its path as it came to a halt between them and their prey. Alonna’s eyes widened as he recognised Oz sat behind the van’s wheel. Finally a familiar face. "Get in!" the no-longer quite as serene as she remembered guitarist snapped.

Kakistos rose from his throne at the back of the Bronze as his two newest childes entered the former club they’d turned into their hangout. He smiled proudly as his two beauties strolled through the vampire den, as always marvelling at the dark potential he sensed in both of them. Given enough time they would be his finest creations. "Hello dears," he purred as they stopped by the foot of his pedestal, heads bowed respectfully.

"Master," they replied in unison. Willow looked up at him, hate and irritation shining in her dark eyes. "We had a fresh kill, a pretty sister to join us, but those rebels got in the way, the Watcher’s pets."

"They can’t be allowed to get in the way," Trick strode in from behind the black curtain behind him. "Not with the mass-production operation so close to beginning."

Kakistos smiled benignly at his oldest childe. Good old Trick, always thinking, keeping him apace with the modern world. "Yes," he mused, "I think it best they be stopped or at least thrown off course. And what stops or distracts someone better than a murder?"

Kakistos’ smile widened at Willow’s eager cry. Ah his childe, always ready for some mayhem and carnage, she was ever her sire’s pride and joy. "No dears, I want you and Trick with me at my moment of greatest triumph."

Kakistos thought for a second before nodding. "Send Sunday and her band of miscreants." Sunday had been one of Sunnydale’s lesser vampire masters before his arrival, one of the few he’d deigned to allow to live under his command. If she and her gang died it would be no great loss.

"You’re back!" Giles rose as Oz, Larry, and Joy entered the library that doubled as their base. "And you have a guest," he stared curiously at the glassy-eyed black girl that was around the age Buffy, Xander, and Willow would have been should they have lived, but he never recalled seeing her at school before. Of course, that didn’t mean a lot, he tried to avoid mixing with the riff-raff that passed themselves off as American high school students.

"Giles!" He was surprised when the African-American girl said his name and even more so when she flung herself into his arms. "Giles! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen!" He stared blankly at Oz who shrugged.

"That’s quite alright dear," Giles slowly said as soothingly as he could manage.

"You d…don’t recognise me?" Hurt filled the girl’s liquid eyes as she peered up at him then shook her head. "You mean you can’t read my mind?" Giles looked over the girl’s head to Oz who shrugged again. Sometimes the guitarist was an absolute fountain of unhelpfulness as Xander might have put it. "Of course you can’t! Everything’s different here."

" I knew you and Giles," the young girl pulled away from him and looked towards Oz. "Larry too." The girl looked behind him to where Sheila and Scott were sat whittling stakes. "Sheila doing something constructive, wow. This is an alternate universe."

"An alternate universe?" Giles’ brow furrowed. On the one hand it appeared this girl did have some passing familiarity with her. On the other hand, the Council didn’t have any working theories on just how alternate theories could be created or if was even possible.

"Yeah," he saw the girl’s eyes flash again and guilt replace the hurt in them. "Faith isn’t here is she?"

"Faith?" Giles’ brow furrowed as he tried to recall where he’d heard then shook his head. "Is she a student? A friend of yours?"

"No, well she was," Alonna then shook her head. "She was the Slayer after," the girl paused for a second, "Betty?"

"Ah, Mr. Zabuto is a traditionalist." The black girl stared blankly at him. Apparently he’d been the same in the ‘other’ world, an oddly comforting thought. "He refuses any assistance or to even to acknowledge our existence." Giles’ jaw dropped as the penny dropped. "Oh good lord, do you mean Faith Lehane?" The girl nodded.

"Yes," Giles pursed his lips, "I remember the girl, she was a potential in Boston, her and her Watcher had the misfortune to draw the attention of Kakistos and were horribly tortured to death over the period of a week or so."

"Oh god," the girl’s legs would have buckled under her but for him grabbing her under the arms. "I didn’t mean-."

"Oh well done Giles," Oz admonished as the guitarist rushed past him to pull out a chair that he lowered the girl into, "is letting your mouth run away with you a Watcher trait?"

"Apparently so," Giles crouched down before the young girl and forced a smile. "Are you alright?"

"W….well w…why c..can’t y…you tell me what happened here first?" Alonna queried. "After Buffy and Angel died killing the Master?"

"Xander died that night too." Giles wondered at the young girl’s choked sob. Obviously she’d known Xander but not Buffy and Angel. "Myself, Willow, Cordelia, and Oz held the Hellmouth for a while-."

Giles raised an eyebrow at the mention of the winsome computer teacher. "No she left after Angel’s death, something about a family emergency I believe." He paused for a second before continuing. "We did quite well initially, slayed the Anointed One, prevented an attempted resurrection of the Master, and even managed to slay the Gorches, but then we were utterly over-matched when William the Bloody and Drusilla arrived in town."

"W…wait," the girl interrupted, her eyes puzzled, "what happened at Halloween?"

Alonna glanced towards Oz and then back to him. "T..the Halloween after Faith, my brother, and I arrived in Sunnydale, a bunch of us went to a costume shop renting out Marvel Comics costumes. That night our costumes possessed us and the next morning we’d all been changed. You went as Professor Xavier so you could mind-read, Oz went as a Daredevil, and I went as Storm." The girl paused. "What happened when Spike and Dru came to town?"

Giles listened with growing incredulity as the girl told her story. He shook himself at her question. "Well we were utterly over-matched and I requested Kendra’s assistance. When she arrived, she tore through Spike and Drusilla almost as if they weren’t there, then Zabuto demanded that we stay out of his Slayer’s way."

"Not particularly." Giles chuckled at the girl’s mutter. "However, whatever her traditional ways, Kendra proved herself to be a murderously effective Slayer, vanquishing a number of notable vampires, including Angelus’ other childe, Penn, a Las Vegan by the name of Jay-Don, and a LA businessman by the name of Russell Winters, as well as dealing with a number of other demonic threats, including the town Mayor. Unfortunately everything fell apart when Kaksitos arrived in town."
"What happened?" Alonna whispered her query.

Giles shook his head, the pain of memory tightening his chest. "It was six months after Kenda’s arrival. We were patrolling as usual, making our customary attempt to avoid Kendra when a veritable cavalcade of cars arrived. It turned out that Kakistos’ childe Trick had come up with the idea of swamping the area with vampires in the hope of sheer weight of numbers would carry the day."

"He did the same in my dimension," the girl slowly commented, "but because of our powers we were able to beat them."

"We weren’t so fortunate here," Giles sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed at the lenses. "We were utterly over-run, we lost Willow and Amy that first night, both turned by Kakistos, Jonathan was killed rather than turned at the same time." Giles looked around. "Of course these fine young men and women joined forces with me, but we’ve been fighting a losing battle, suffering loss after loss. Neither the Master nor Angelus attacked us in such numbers. Only daylight keeps us in the fight."

"It’s so different," Alonna shook her head. "We’ve faced so much. The cyborgs, the Scourge, Voodoo priests, Watchers. And it’s all gone because-."

"Because?" Giles gently prompted when the girl lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"I…I was dating Xander for two years," Alonna said. "Then he broke up with me and I found out he was dating Faith, so I was talking to this girl, Angelica I think her name was, and she asked me what I wished for the most. And I told her I wished that Faith never came to Sunnydale. The next thing I knew there was this flash from her necklace and I was here."

"I’ll second that. I can’t believe Xander got laid ever," Sheila commented. "Particularly a hottie like you Alonna. Are you near-sighted?"

Giles ignored Sheila’s distinctively unhelpful comment, concentrating on the idea germinating inside his head. "This girl was called Angelica you say?"

"N…no," the girl shook her head slowly, "it sounded like Angelica, but it wasn’t that."

"Um," Giles pursed his lips as he began pacing the library floor, "try and remember, it could be important." He rubbed ceaselessly at his glasses lenses.

Giles looked towards Oz. "There’s legends of demons who travel the world exacting vengeance on behalf of victims. Their typical method is to appear to a wronged person and encourage them to vent their spleen about those who have hurt them. The moment the object of the demon's attention expresses their preferred method of punishment in the form of a wish, the vengeance demon can cause his or her wish to come true, whether it requires gruesome dismemberment or even the creation of a new alternate universe." He clicked his fingers. "Of course, they’re called Vengeance demons."

"You’re saying," Joy took a step towards the sat girl, "we’re in this nightmare ‘cause Lonely-Heart made a wish?"

"Yes," Giles carefully stepped between Joy and the still shocked girl. "We have to go and see Zabuto."

Oz shot him an even look. "Because he’s been so friendly up to now."

"This is important, Oz," Giles explained. "If we can find a way of reversing this vengeance demon’s spell, we can have our guest’s world back, a better world."

"All the deaths, the vampires in charge of the town," Giles shook his head. "It could hardly be worse." Giles looked towards Alonna. "If you’ll come with us, Miss?"

The night chill was enough of a shock to yank Alonna out of much of her shock. Still, she was largely numb as they hurried across the darkened parking lot and towards the van she’d arrived at the school in.

Then a pallid blonde charged out of the shadows, followed by several other demons, grabbed her around the shoulders and threw her to the ground. Her head cracked against the tarmac, stars erupting in her eyes, as she instinctively tried to access her powers only for them to once again fail. Heart racing, she tried a clumsy kick at the demon’s blurred outline. "Ahh!" she screamed as the vampire grabbed her foot at the ankle and twisted, pain raging through her foot as the bone snapped like a twig. She struggled weakly when the demon grabbed her ringlets and yanked her head to one side, hands slapping up in a vain attempt to dislodge her attacker’s grip. Her back arched as she felt the teeth enter her exposed neck and then everything went dark.

"Nooooo!" Giles let out an anguished scream as he jammed a stake through the back of the female vampire. The demon glanced over her shoulder at him, face filling with a mixture of rage and shock before bursting to dust, leaving Alonna’s corpse behind.

"Giles!" he felt Oz grabbing at his shoulder. "Come on, we have to get out of here!"

Kendra looked up from her press-ups, sensing something approaching her Watcher’s home. Leaping up, she strode into the hallway just as the door crashed opened and the last Slayer’s Watcher strode in, followed by his helpers, his expression thunderous. "Don’t worry," the Englishman said, "I won’t wait for an invite, this being night-time."

Such was the ferocity of the Englishman’s roar, Kendra took an instinctive back step before starting forward, hands balling into fists. "Kendra!" she paused again at her Watcher’s bellow, head turning towards her grey-haired countryman, his square shoulders framed in the lounge doorway. "Rupert," Zabuto sniffed disdainfully, "I thought the Council made it clear. After your allowance of your Slayer’s relationship with the vampire and your use of civilians," her Watcher sniffed again, "you weren’t to have any contact with us."

"By god Samuel, this is important!" the Englishman growled. "You’ve heard of Vengeance Demons I assume?"

The Englishman interrupted. "We rescued a girl tonight, a girl none of us had ever seen before and yet knew several of us. She told us of a world where we are in a better situation than we are now." The former Watcher continued talking for several minutes, telling a fantastical tale of Halloweens, alternate Slayers, and super-powers.

"She’s dead," guilt flickered in the former Watcher’s eyes. "We were on our way here and one of Kakistos’ minions grabbed and killed her."

Mr. Zabuto stared steadily at the Englishman. "I have some books relating to Vengeance demons. But we’ll need her name?"

"Ah," the Englishman grimaced. "She wasn’t sure, but it sounded something like Angelica."

"She wasn’t sure?" Zabuto sniffed. "This tale of yours come more and more unlikely by the second."

"Mr. Zabuto," Kendra found the nerve to do what she’d been expressly forbidden to do and interrupt her Watcher in conversation. "We were to raid the vampires before they put their mass-production system into work."

"Yes of course," Zabuto glanced from the Englishman to her and back again, "that has to be our immediate and long-term priority."

"Then at least," Kendra bristled inwardly when the Englishman backed towards the door, barring her path, but as always awaited her Watcher’s instructions to strike, "allow my youngsters to go with her?"

"Very well." Kendra was surprised when Zabuto nodded. "Kendra, you’ll take Mr. Giles’ compatriots with you, Rupert," Zabuto looked towards the Englishman, "if you’ll join me?"

Zabuto turned to face him the moment they were alone, the dark-skinned man’s eyes burning into him. "If this tale has any validity, should we change this world for another, are you sure the world we’ll get will be any better?"

Giles didn’t have to hesitate. A world where Xander and Willow still lived, where he had a larger more powerful group under his command. A world where he was still involved in the guiding of the Slayer. "It has to be."

His fellow Watcher stared him in the eye before nodding. "Very well." The Jamaican backed into the lounge. "My texts are in here."

"Ah," Giles looked into the front room, a pair of crossed swords hung above a crackling fireplace that was also flanked by a pair of imposing glass wardrobes hung on the wall and filled with row upon row of books, detailed texts dealing with demonology, mythology, prophecy and other esoterically exotic topics besides. "A most extensive collection."

Kakistos let out a boom. "Bring on the first!" He watched eagerly as some of his minions opened the cage at the far end of the room and dragged out a bruised looking Hispanic girl.

"Nooo!" the girl let out a horrified shriek. "No! Please! No! Help me! No! Noooo!"

Once the girl was out of the cage, one of his minions ended her shrieks with an efficient shock of a cattle prod, the girl instantly going limp. The three vampires dragged the girl to the end of Trick’s invention lifting her onto an autopsy table. "She's still alive, you see, for the freshness," Trick muttered in his ear.

The machine was turned on, a low whirling filling the air. On either side four arms extended over the deliciously helpless girl, each with a very large needle on the end then simultaneously plunged down into her body and began to suck the blood from it. At one end of the contraption was a tap for sampling the blood, a glass was quickly filled for Kakistos to taste, the girl letting out a few muffled sounds before finally dying.

A minion grabbed the glass and brought it to him. Kakistos looked towards Trick. "I’m sure this is going to be excellent."

"I’m afraid not," Giles reached for the next book on the pile of books his host had deemed relevant to the situation.

"Oh good lord," Giles glanced towards his companion. "Didn’t you say the girl said the demon was called something akin to Angelica?" Giles nodded. Zabuto smirked and pushed a book across the table to him. "How does Anyanka, patron saint of scorned women sound?"

"Anyanka? Patron saint of scorned women?" Giles nodded. "Given what Alonna told me of her recent past and motivation for making the wish, bloody perfect."

"Then if we’re decided she’s the one," Zabuto licked his lips before pointing a stubby finger at a passage in the book, "there’s a summonsing spell for her. Shall we discuss her behaviour with her?"

Twenty frenzied minutes they were stood either side of a golden cauldron, the pungent stench of the herbs bubbling inside it filling the room. "Oh Anyanka," Giles was pleased when his voice didn’t falter or stutter in the presence of his fellow Watcher, "I beseech thee in the name of all women scorned. Come before me."

He joined his fellow Watcher in looking around the apartment but was disappointed when they saw nothing. "It appears-."

Zabuto’s voice trailed off when a slender blonde strode out of the shadows. "Do you have any idea what I do to a man who uses that spell to summon me?"

Giles stared fearlessly at the blonde. "I imagine you’ll endeavour to show us."

The glass in his hand, Kakistos rose from his seat and toasted his fellow vampires massed in the club. "Today we stand on the edge of a new-." His voice trailed off as the club’s doors exploded inwards, a van careering into the rear of his massed forces and some stake-wielding youths charging in behind. "WHO DARES!"

His thunderous roar trailed off as the skylight above shattered, a tiny figure dropping in a shower of glass to land at his feet. His eyes widened as the Slayer raised a crossbow and fired it at his chest. He reached across, grabbed Trick, and pulled the minion into the arrow’s path.

The dark-skinned beauty began her charge as the arrow slammed home, his oldest childe briefly spasming before turning to dust. The black girl leapt at him, the Slayer jumping above him, and then coming down with a downwards stake.

He stepped into the attack, grunting when the Slayer’s stake drove through his shoulder. Biting back the pain, he caught her with a backhand that sent her cart-wheeling into a crouch.

The brunette let out a bestial snarl before springing back at him, her hand delving into her worn denim jacket to draw a knife as she leapt. "Aaaaaah!" Kakistos bellowed in a roar that was half-pain and half-shock when a knife backhand slashed into his left eye, tearing through his orbital bone to rip into his eye, blood pouring out.

"Aaaaaaah!" Kakistos went insane with pain, throwing out a kick at the Slayer’s chest. The dark-haired beauty only compounded his agony as she side-stepped his attack and jammed the knife into his thigh, tearing through enough muscle to scrape against the bone. "You bitch!" His follow-up downward right crashed into the girl’s temple, knocking her back a step.

The Slayer jumped back at him, ducking and weaving under a haymaker right to deliver a thrust kick to the stomach. He grunted with pain, his elbow snapping to the side to catch the black girl in the side of the head, the Slayer grunted as he brought his fist down on the top of her head, knocking his assailant down to one knee, easy victim to his knee to her face.

"Aaaaaah!" Except the damnable bitch lashed another of her knives across his right thigh. His rage reaching new heights, the sort of rage that had in the past compelled him to burn whole villages to the ground, he drove a right cross down into the Slayer’s rising face, bone shattering under the blow’s impact.

Blood bubbled in the girl’s mouth. Precious Slayer blood that no vampire would ever dream wasting. He hit her again, a left hook that dislocated her jaw, and then he grabbed her around the throat squeezing the air from her as he brought her towards him to feed. The Slayer’s knife slashed up, but this time he caught her wrist and twisted, the snap of her bone ringing out. "If I had time," he growled, "I would work nightmares on your pretty body, but instead……" He drove his teeth into her so soft throat and tasted the first of her sweet blood.

"You’re going to change the world back. Giles stepped towards the woman. "I'm not afraid of you. Your only power lies in the wishing."

Giles gurgled when the blonde grabbed him around the throat and slammed him into the wall. "You’re so wrong little man!" Her free hand backhanded Zabuto over the sofa. "This is the real world now, Alonna made such a wonderful world." Giles grabbed at the fingers crushing at his throat but it was like trying to bend steel. His vision blurred and his mouth flapped like a goldfish as he struggled for air.

Suddenly a black hand lunged between him and his assailant, snatching at the glowing amulet dangling around her throat. Anyanka’s elbow crashed into Zabuto’s face, knocking him away, but also tearing the necklace loose.

Giles rammed a forearm into the woman’s face, knocking her backward a step. Seeing Zabuto sprawled across the floor and the amulet gleaming on the sofa, he dived at it, grabbing at the cauldron and driving it down at the jewellery as he looked towards Zabuto, the black man’s glassy eyes meeting his. "Thank you," he smiled, "it was a pleasure working with you."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" The demon’s scream was the last thing he heard as the amulet exploded into pieces.

"Wish granted!" the blonde looked down at the suddenly dulled necklace around her neck, then up at her again. "Wish granted!"

Alonna stepped back from the woman, unease growing inside her. "Yeah," she edged back away from the clearly nuts woman, allowing the cafeteria crowd to swallow her up.

"This is my first investment for our group," Ginny looked around the deserted building and then to her group members. "What do you think?" Some of her excitement abated when she noticed the unenthusiastic looks on her companions’ faces.

"Oh yeah," Michael agreed with a nod. "I remember the stories, they said that one of the guests went loco in the early thirties, killed a bunch of guests and several of the staff before being caught and shot by the police. After that no-body could ever get the business working." The Goth’s face took on a thoughtful expression. "Wonder if it was really a lunatic or some sort of a demon?"

"You told me the Slayer’s gang have their own base," Ginny continued, nervous about her position as the group’s newest member and not wanting her cash to come between her and potentially her first friends since, well since ever. "I thought it would be nice for us to have our own place." She waited as the others looked from one another. "Anyone who wanted a room could live here rent-free, just help out with the chores and the up-keep. We could build a gymnasium and armoury in the basement. And because of the rep of this place, I got it at a third normal retail price, normal retail price for Sunnydale. Practically a steal."

"My place is okay," Kate demurred, "but the gym idea works. A place where we don’t have to hide our powers and abilities, I like that."

"We’re alright at home," Harry commented. "But our place can get crowded for strategy sessions. This place definitely has its upside."

"Wesley," Giles looked up and shot the younger man a chagrined grin as he put the comics encyclopaedia down on his desk, Wesley striding into his office, "it appears you’ve caught me."

"I assume it’s not just idle entertainment?" His fellow Watcher sunk into the seat opposite him.

"Psst," Giles waved a dismissive hand. "Truth be told, it’s not half bad, decent plotting, intriguing characters, and wonderful art. However, it’s certainly not my first choice."

"That’s a relief," Wesley raised an eyebrow. "I assume then there was a reason you were reading that books, research?"

"Of a type," Giles pursed his lips together. "I trust you’ve familiarised with our companions’ alter egos?"

"To my eternal shame, yes." Wesley leaned forward in his seat. "What’s this about, Giles?"

Giles’ fingers drummed out a tune on his desk. "Who would you say was possessed by the most physically powerful character?"

"Very well." Wesley tilted his head to the side. "I suppose it would have to be Cordelia, She-Hulk’s an 100 tonner."

"And how much of that strength does she keep?" Giles shrugged. "Two, three tons perhaps? We’ve been very lucky."

"Look at the powerhouses of the Marvel verse," Giles tapped at the encyclopaedia. "The Thors, Sentrys, Namors, Silver Surfers, the Hulks. Imagine if one of these had possessed one of our charges. Would their bodies been able to contain even a hundredth of that power? Would they have been able to live in mundane society? Would such power have driven them insane?" Giles shuddered at the possibilities. "We’ve been very fortunate."

Faith kicked idly at the ground as they started through the city, relieved that Cordy, the Gunns, Jonathan, and Heidi were all in the other two patrols. Faith’s eyes narrowed as she noticed several figures lurking in the university’s shadows. "Something’s happening at the university?" Faith commented.

"Wait." Wesley put a pair of night-vision goggles on and peered in the direction she was pointing. "Ah. I don’t know what they are, but their heat signatures definitely aren’t human."

"How many?" Faith queried as she drew her short sword and glanced at Xander, Willow, Oz, and Freddy to see them doing the same with their weapons.

"’Kay," Faith nodded. "Will, you and Oz take the left. Xan, you and Fred, on the right, I’ll go through the middle, Wes, hang back and get any who slip through."

As they sneaked nearer, Faith saw that the grey-skinned, lined-faced demons with dark, sunken eyes that resembled a racoon’s, were dressed in black suits and white shirts with black string ties, and trying to break into the offices of the college’s science department. Faith stepped out of the shadows and cleared her throat, waiting more or less patiently for the demons to turn to face her before speaking. "Hey," she casually waved at the demons, "I’m the representative of the local vigilante committee -." Faith swayed out of the way of a downward swung hatchet. "Hey! I had a whole routine worked out!" She protested as she swung her sword up and through her opponent’s wrist, blood spewing everywhere, her foot swinging up and into the demon’s chest, knocking him to the ground.

Another demon charged her, Faith parrying a downward swung hatchet on her blade while grabbing the wrist of the other arm and holding it steady while she stepped into the creature’s space and slammed her head repeatedly into the monster’s face. Every blow shattered another bone in the demon’s face before the beast buckled after four butts and fell to its knees, its face a mask of crimson.

Faith side-kicked a demon charging her from the right, back-handing him with a decapitating slash. And then just like that it was over, her friends having dealt with the others.

"Oh good lord," Wesley muttered as he crouched down by the side of one of the demons.

"Lubber demons," Wesley didn’t look up from the creature. "They’re religious zealots who devoutly believe that their messiah will usher in the end of humankind." Wesley paused. "Meaning they’re willing to do just about anything to end mankind and they must have a good reason." Wesley looked up at Faith’s groan. "What?"

"You’re gonna want us to search their corpses aren’t ya?" Faith sighed at Wes’ nod. "Figures. The glamorous side of Slayin’."

"What’s these?" Xander held up a sheaf of yellowed papers he’d just pulled out of the jackets of one of the cooling corpses.

"Ah," Wesley took the notes and peered at them. "I can’t read them, but I do recognise the dialect as a derivation of Sumerian. Doubtless between Giles and myself I’ll be able to translate them."

Faith glanced at Xander. "I’ve known him for six years and I still can’t believe he says that," she muttered as she rushed back into the loft’s gym, Xander following behind.

"The writings appear to be prophetic in nature," Giles pushed his glasses up his face before continuing. "They refer to ‘Golden Child’ who will be a ‘Champion Of Time’ who will ‘bring a halt to the world of man’."

"’Kay," Faith broke in before the Englishman’s acerbic wit cut her boy-friend to ribbons, "then how are we gonna find out who this ‘Golden Child’ is?"

"As to that," Wesley spoke up after glancing at his watch, "it’s too late to search tonight. But tomorrow night, one team will hit the usual demon dens while the others will search through the city for more Lubbers, perhaps capturing one for interrogation."

"Damn," Faith shook her head in faked admiration, "it’s like listenin’ to Sun-Tzu plan."

Wesley glared at her. "If you had your own plan I’m sure you’d be falling over yourself to share."

"Me?" Faith shook her head. "Nah, I’m just shy."

"That lecture! My head’s spinning! I never thought we’d have such a lecturer! Wow oh wow!"

Oz shot his girl-friend an amused look as he picked up his books and watched the man who’d taken the lecture walk out. "Oh yeah," he agreed. "He really nailed his subject." Oz paused as an idea occurred. "Gene Rainey sure knows a lot about time."

"Yeah-," Willow’s eyes widened as she stared at him. "Oh boy. You don’t think?"

"Mr. Rainey’s quite the accomplished scientist," Wesley muttered as he read a printout of the on-line biography of Willow and Oz’s tutor. "He’s won any number of awards and been awarded grants from several very prestigious bodies."

"It says here, that ‘Gene is considered one of the world’s foremost authorities and explorers into ‘The Time Paradox’," Giles added before looking up at Oz and Willow, "he could be very well be our man. Well done."

"Well done? If we were all nerds, any one of us could have sat in on his class."

Wesley ignored Faith’s muttering to look around the room. "It appears Oz and Willow have brought us our likeliest answer. All we need to is track Mr. Rainey down. However, we can’t be completely sure it’s him-."

"The university, the lecture, and the on-line biography, everything fits," Freddy objected.

"Young man," Giles fixed Freddy with an even stare. "I’ll hope you’ll learn that a true journalist doesn’t rely on conjecture and coincidence, but on cold hard facts."

"So a group of us goes to see Rainey, while the rest carry out the original plan?" Faith interrupted.

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "Xander, I want you to lead one group, Giles will take the other. Faith, you’ll come with me. Oz I’d like you to make the introductions."

"This is the place," Wesley announced as they pulled up outside a single-storey detached house in a middle-class suburb.

"Yes, I imagine these scientist types aren’t exactly party animals," Wesley sniffed.

"Ya don’t say," Faith snarked. "I didn’t expect to hear Nickleback or Simple Plan blasting out, but I figured there’d be some lights on."

"There’s no-one inside," Oz added. Both she and Wesley glanced at their driver. "Super-human hearing remember? There’s no-one inside."

"Ah," Wesley pursed his lips as he peered through the darkness and at the printout, "I have the address of Mr. Rainey’s science lab here. I suggest we drive there and take a look."

Oz’s only comment was him dropping the brake and starting their van down the silent street. Five minutes later they were motoring into the campus.

Gene looked up from his calculations, brow furrowing as a feeling of deep unease, one he’d experienced several times since the night of the possession, assailing him again. Shaking it off, he looked back down at his pad and began scribbling at it again, the only sound in the lamp-lit lab his pencil scratching against the paper.

The moment the van had pulled up into the darkened parking lot, Faith was climbing out and looking towards the shadow-shrouded building, noting the solitary on-light. "’Kay," Faith glanced at Oz, "you front and centre on the-." Faith groaned at the wanna-be musician’s wary look. "Trouble, ‘course there is. Why don’t ya just get it over with an’ tell us?"

Oz peered into the shadows, Faith groaning inwardly as she noted the shapes shifting in the darkness. "How many?"

"Awww crap," Faith shook her head as she looked around at the demons encircling them. "Ride straight over to the lab he said. My Watcher, England’s answer to General Custer."

"Faith," Wesley said through gritted teeth, "perhaps your gob could be better engaged in phoning for help?"

"Jeez," Faith shook her head even as she eyeballed the approaching demons, "everyone’s a critic."

"Oh can I give you a hell yeah!" the frequently profane Slayer yelled back at him. "It’s definitely Rainey they’re after, there’s dozens of the Lubbers here!"

"Yeah?" Faith ducked under a swinging haymaker, retaliating with a leg sweep that knocked her rival onto his back, "well hurry!" Faith sidestepped a thrust-kick, glossy mane snapping side to side as she flowed into a spinning back-fist that collided with her rival’s face, bone shattering and blood flowing under the crushing impact.

Faith was a blur, a virtual buzzsaw as she wrecked carnage through the surrounding Lubbers hitting them with fists, feet, knees, and elbows, every blow met with a pained grunt or gasp. Not that she got away scott-free herself. As fast as she was, there was still too many of them to completely avoid, and she was buffeted by blow after blow, sustaining a beating no normal mortal could have withstood for long.

Faith’s right foot came up in a smooth, effortless arc, the ball of her foot smashing into the jaw of the Lubber stood before her, the force of her attack lifting the demon from his feet and flinging him through the lit window some twenty feet behind them. "Aw crap!" grabbing a demon on either side in a head-lock, grasping them close, Faith leapt into the air, dragging the demonic duo out of the battle and through the shattered window, intent on protecting the geeky scientist.

Gene looked up, his senses tingling again. He threw himself to the ground when the window exploded open in a glass shower and a weird-looking man crashing to the floor, rapidly followed in by a profusely-swearing woman, her slender arms wrapped around the necks of another pair of what he could only dazedly guess were demons. The untamed temptress with her intoxicating eyes and body sent down from heaven was the sort of girl who populated his wildest fantasies but in reality would probably never even remember his name.

The girl looked up at him, snarling as she propelled a cart-wheeling demon into the white board, knocking it and him to the ground while at the same time flinging the other demon in the opposite corner and spinning to face the rising first one. "You stay out of-." Gene leapt into the air, flying towards and drop-kicking the demon between the shoulder-blades and sending it cannoning towards the full-bodied babe who instinctively caught it with an uppercut to the jaw that lifted it from its feet, sent it smashing into the ceiling and plummeting back to the floor, its body shuddering painfully on impact. "You’re one of us!" the brunette’s full lips parted in a dimpled smile. "Wicked cool!"

The scientist stared nervously at them, constantly pushing his glasses up his nose. "There was a Halloween party in ’98, I went as Spiderman-."

"Makes sense," Xander commented. Noticing everyone turning to him, he clarified his comment. "Spiderman that is to say Peter Parker was a nerdy scientist, just like-." Xander flushed as he looked at the also-reddening boffin.

"And what are your powers?" Xander was for once grateful for Giles’ interruption.

"Um," the geek nodded nervously before continuing. "Okay then. I’m three times faster, stronger, agile, stamina, and durable than a normal fit human. And I sense danger before it actually occurs."

"Of course I did," Rainey retorted. "I did experiment after experiment measuring my own abilities against my previous ones. I postulated theory after theory, but I just didn’t have enough facts to make any findings."

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "As far as we understand only people wearing costumes hired from ‘Hero City’ were affected. As to why and how, we theorise it was magical rather than scientific in nature."

Giles and Wesley exchanged uneasy glances but it was Xander who spoke. "As far as we know everyone in this room, you, and one other person who’s now in a mental asylum." Xander raised his hands at the scientist’s paling face. "Don’t worry, him going Lectar had nothing to do with being possessed, he was just an ass."

Gene stared bulging-eyed at them. "But there were hundreds of costumes in that shop. There has to be more people like us!"

"Or the other people who’ve been affected have never had occasion to discover their powers," suggested Wesley.

"Yeah," Xander was less than convinced by either argument, although he secretly admitted that it could well be his inner comic-book geek wouldn’t let go of the idea of his home-town filled with super-heroes.

"And you’re saying my experiment to stop time would have been used by these demons to destroy the world?" the scientist sunk into a chair facing them.

"I’m afraid so, now that we’ve met you and you’ve explained your current work, it seems to fit," Wesley announced before passing the translated prophecy over to the science teacher.

"Ooooh," the teacher’s bespectacled eyes widened as he read the text before looking up at them. "I’ll stop the experiment immediately."

"And," Willow put in, the eyes of Xander’s childhood friend also wide but with excitement rather than shock, "you can join us!"

"No, no, no," the post-graduate demurred with a shake of the head. "I’m a man of science, tonight was enough excitement for me. If my assistant Ms. Burkle ever found out about this…." The man shook his head again.

Giles shot Willow a warning look as the red-haired witch’s mouth opened. "Of course," the oldest of their group replied. "We’re volunteers, we won’t press-gang anyone to join us. I’d only ask you alert us if you encounter any supernatural danger or anyone you think might likewise have powers."

"Yeah," Rainey nodded nervously, "sure."

The woman rose from her seat facing the window and turned to face him. "You’ve been hiding in the shadows for quite long enough, why don’t you come out?"

"Just admiring your beauty," Warren replied, his natural instincts reined in by the caution caused by the knowledge who the slinky brunette may well be. That didn’t mean he wasn’t warm for her fantastic form, but the assassin inside him knew if not wisdom, a certain caginess.

The brunette shot him an unamused smile. "Be very careful. I didn’t like you at school Warren, I like you even less now you’ve broken into my home."

Rhonda stared levelly at him, seemingly unflustered. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," she declared.

Warren shook his head, his confidence returning. "I know you hired a costume from Hero City that Halloween."

"I raided Hero City a few months after this happened, stole the records, and burnt the place down," Warren’s assurance was growing with every second.

"Because I didn’t want anyone to realise I’d stolen the records," he replied. "And you went as the Enchantress, how did it change you?"

"Change me?" Rhonda threw her head back and laughed, the darkened room suddenly changing into a psychedelic rainbow of colours. "Why I’m a witch and not just a bitch anymore!" Rhonda’s smile turned sharklike. "Now tell me why I shouldn’t squash you like a bug?"

The cavern was quiet, anticipation heavy in the air. Then the Prime Elder spoke, his tone troubled. "The spell is completed and the results are clear. The reason for the lack of upheaval in our world is the Slayer."

"She has grown too powerful, she deadens the chaos that we worship. Her very existence intimidates mischief-makers from even attempting their schemes." added his deputy, Grand Marshal of their forces. "She must be dealt with so we can revel in the anarchy once more."

"I agree," the Prime Elder nodded as he looked around the Honoured Council, veterans who prospered in the in-fighting and back-stabbing their sect lived for. "The Church of the Holy Chaos decrees that the Crimson Carnage be sent after the Slayer."

The Grand Marshal rose, his blood-red swishing around his legs and face hidden within his cowl. "The adepts will be readied, the Slayer is as good as dead."

Holland Manners stared around the darkened room, illuminated only by the candles at its centre and in each corner. The air seemed tight, making it difficult to breath, something their soon to be summonsed guests wouldn’t consider a problem. "Is everything in order?"

Lillah started at his voice, suggesting that he was far from the only one uncomfortable with their situation. "Yes sir, everything will be ready by tomorrow night."

"Excellent," he nodded insincerely. What he wouldn’t give to have another option or a reason to call this madness off. Unfortunately his superiors had given him no choice and if there was somebody he feared more than their soon-to-be summonsed guests, it was his superiors. He turned to Lindsey. "And the precautions?"

"I’ve been in conference with the mages, they’re casting protection and obedience spells specifically tailored towards our guests’ unique physiology," Lindsey replied. "The spells will be centred on us specifically but also include all W&H personnel. I’ve also produced an extensive briefing folder on our guests. Hopefully that should give us the upper hand physiologically speaking."

Holland nodded again. No matter what his juniors said he couldn’t rid himself of the uneasy foreboding that had assailed him since this mad venture was demanded. "Then," he backed out of the room, grateful for a reason no matter how temporary to leave it, "let’s move onto other business."

"Bloody hell," Giles shook his head as he drove through Sunnydale’s streets en-route to a meeting he really didn’t want to have. "Seven generations of Giles have been Watchers, and I bet not one of them had to double as a Relate counsellor!"

Giles growled at the smirk he heard in his girl-friend’s voice. Oh it was alright for her, she could sit by the side and watch the fireworks, he was the poor bugger lighting them! "Relate is a British charity concerned with relationship support," he grumpily explained. "When I took this post I expected to be dealing with vampires, zombies, were, and demons, not living in bloody soap opera!"

"And yet you’re so graceful about it." Giles’ glare turned to a reluctant smile at his fiancée’s impish expression. How did he get so lucky? "Wesley is Faith’s guardian and Watcher, why isn’t he dealing with her?"

"Because he’s a bloody coward," Giles’ mood took another down-turn. "Oh he’s fine if he’s facing a horde of vampires or a wolf pack, but ask him to discipline that Slayer of his and his knees turn to jelly!"

"Thank you all for meeting us here." Faith forced herself to remain calm as Giles strode into the gym. She’d only been waiting here for ten minutes, but with the Gunns, Cordy, Jonathan, and Heidi in the gym, and Xander as her only buffer to the glares it had been a hell of a ten minutes. Not that she gave a shit.

Except these people used to be her friends and she’d spent too many years without them to easily lose them now.

Realising the Englishman was still talking, she focussed her attention on him. "Due to certain occurrences," the Watcher shuffled from foot to foot, careful not to look anyone in the eye, "our group isn’t as close as it once was. We need to mend some bridges."

"Yes," Giles stared piercingly at the African-American, "but before this we were rather more than just ‘alright’. I’d rather we went back to the somewhat warmer atmosphere of before."

"Perhaps not, but one can be wise after the event." Giles half-smiled at Xander’s mutter. The Englishman’s expression sobered as he looked towards Alonna. "And after all, Wesley and I believe that strange woman you reported discussing Faith with was in fact a demon-."

"You were going to set a fucking demon on me!" Faith yelled, cheeks reddening with rage. Ignoring Xander’s restraining arm on her forearm, she stepped face to face with the weather-manipulator.

"I’m sure," Giles’ voice cut through their bickering, "Alonna had no idea that Anyanka was a vengeance demon. Wish demons are known to be notoriously deceitful, their method of operation is tricking humans into wishes that they wouldn’t normally make."

"Yeah?" Faith stared at her former friend, her anger abating in place of suspicion. "And what did you wish for?"

Alonna looked briefly uncomfortable. Then her eyes hardened. "I wished you’d never come to Sunnydale."

"You did what!" Alonna’s reply hit her like a thunderbolt. She couldn’t believe Alonna wanted to get rid of her so bad that she’d make it so that all the great stuff that had happened to her since comin’ to Sunnydale had never happened at all.

"What did you expect?" Alonna stuck her face into Faith’s face. "You stole my boy-friend, you bitch!!!!!"

Faith clenched her fists then stepped back. She wanted like hell to punch out her former friend, but couldn’t for saying something that however harsh was ultimately true. "Perhaps we should take a break," Giles broke in.

"Yeah," Faith turned away from her former best friend before she gave into temptation and punched Alonna’s lights out. "I ain’t got nothin’ to add anyway."

Giles watched helplessly as the gym emptied, the respective parties skulking off to their corners. It looked like they’d have to continue ensuring that any contact between the groups was kept to a minimum.

"I beg your pardon?" he turned his withering gaze on his girl-friend, noting that despite her bantering words, Jenny’s eyes looked as worried as he felt.

"Honey, I think Kofi Annan had less combustible elements to deal with than our little group."

Faith exhaled as she joined Xander in climbing down the outside stairs that led from his upstairs apartment to the street by the gym, Oz, Will, and Freddy awaiting them.

"You know the area we’re patrolling," Xander began as he walked through the street, "stay in close and look casual. There’s been no reported outbreaks or attacks in the area we’re working, just keep your eyes peeled."

Faith nodded as she fell in beside her boy-toy. It sounded like a milk-run tonight. Her enhancements over her Slaying power were a real buzz, but sometimes, just sometimes, they made the run of the mill Slaying kinda borin’.

Still, a smile tugged at her full lips as she wrapped her arm around Xander’s waist, at least it gave her more time than a normal Slayer would have to spend with her buds.

It was just a shame that her friends numbered considerably less than they once had.

Faith sighed, her mood taking the usual downturn when she thought of the screw-up she’d made of her life. Things were still better than they’d ever been when she’d been livin’ in Boston, pre-Wes, better than she’d ever dreamed her life could be, her having a purpose, a safe home, a caring guardian, a great boy-friend, and friends.

Faith’s smile returned at the concern in Xander’s voice. She started to look up at the man beside her.

And then red-hooded figures burst out of the darkness surrounding them, their knee-length capes billowing behind them. "What the fuck!" Faith leaned back as a dart flew out of the air at her, snatching the dart out of the air and flinging it back at the man who’d fired it.

And then she was twisting and writhing out of the way of two twin-bladed swordsmen, their weapons gleaming in the night sky. Faith sidestepped one’s man’s thrust to leap forward into a straight-arm to the throat of the man to her left.

"Uggggh!" the man grunted as he did a 360 before crumpling to the ground. Faith twisted away from the other man’s descending blade before grabbing his wrist in a steel grip while leaning back at the waist as the warrior’s other weapon thrust across his body and at her face. Before the man had chance to withdraw his blade, Faith grabbed his other wrist and jammed the warrior’s arms together in a cross as she straightened and drove her head into the man’s cowl.

"Shit!" Faith yelped as her head cracked against an iron mask. Legs shaky and head woozy, she stumbled backwards, only instinct enabling her to duck under a slashing blade. The air whistled around Faith as she leapt up and behind the man, her foot swinging back and down to crash into the back of the man’s head.

Even as she landed, another man charged her, swords slicing the air between them to ribbons. Just before he reached her, Faith dropped into a crouch and shot her arms up above her, grabbing two handfuls of the warrior’s robe, then with a flex of her shoulders and arms, she flung the man over her and into the two swordsmen she’d already dealt with.

Faith straightened, then staggered and swayed as lights exploded in her eyes, an arid smoke burning the back of her throat as she reared away from a blurred right to the face, slapping the swordsman’s blade away. Then her vision cleared and she saw their attackers retreating. Faith started after them with her fists clenched, only to pull back when she registered her friends’ groans behind her.

That was another rule she’d learnt since reaching Sunnydale. You didn’t run out on your friends.

Faith stared at her Watcher as she translated his words into something more understandable. "You know who they are?" she queried as she slouched back in one of the comfy seats the lounge of Giles’ house.

"Yes," this time it was Giles who spoke. Jesus, some time she felt like she was watching a tennis match, her gaze bobbing from each of the Englishmen as they spoke. "They’re members of the Crimson Carnage, the group that enforces the will of The Church Of The Holy Chaos."

"They’re a supernatural wild card so to speak," replied Wesley. "A force neither good nor evil-." Giles snorted derisively. Wesley sighed. "Oh you’re one of them are you?"

"The Church Of The Holy Chaos do nothing but cause havoc!" the Englishman spat. "I should bloody know, my-."

"That’s as maybe," Wesley continued. "The Church Of Holy Chaos certainly doesn’t work for good-."

"Though neither does it work for evil," Wesley didn’t miss a beat. "It works purely for its own amusement, doing whatever it feels will cause the most trouble-."

"Like what?" Jonathan spoke up.

"Um, anything that causes trouble," Wesley paused. "Murdering a peace-negotiator to make sure a war continues. Fixing an election so a war-monger gets elected. Selling weapons to a terrorist group. Sometimes," Wesley looked towards Giles, "even giving weapons to rebels fighting a tyrant, not because of any love of justice, but just for the havoc their actions might cause. Stealing evidence from a police station so that a powerful criminal is released or even killing a witness that might exonerate the same criminal." Wesley glanced towards his fellow Watcher again and shook his head. "Their concerns of neither serving evil nor good in themselves, they judge each action they make by what chaos it will create."

"Look," Gunn interrupted, "I don’t wanna be interrupting your philosophical discussion, but who are those Crimson Carnage cats?"

"Those cats," Giles began wiping his glasses, "as you colourfully put it are the Church’s dirty tricks division. Any dangerous or subversive job they want doing comes under the purview of the Crimson Carnage."

"They’re generally children under the age of five who are snatched from orphanages, the streets, or sold by the parents to the Church," Wesley continued. "From that point on they’re trained in all the skills required by the Church."

"The martial arts, the art of disguise, infiltration, poison, explosives, and even magic to those with the ability," replied Wesley.

Giles looked pensive. "They can’t be verbally dissuaded from their mission, they’re indoctrinated by the Church Elders from the time they come into their possession. Any child they can’t brain-wash is ultimately disposed of."

"Disposed of?" Willow rather naively asked.

"Yeah, I feel bad for these kids and everythin’ but these assholes were tryin’ to kill us," Faith pointed out. "Any idea how to stop ‘em would be real appreciated?"

Giles shot her a grave yet also amused look. "As I said, the Crimson Carnage are quite fanatical, and won’t stop until every member of those sent are dealt with."

"You mean killed," Xander broke the still silence that followed the older Watcher’s words.

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "The Church are above all pragmatists, and their Elders think of the Crimson Carnage as a resource, and they don’t like to waste resources."

"So we’ve gotta kill them all to stop them?" Faith sighed at Wes’ nod. It didn’t seem like they had much of an option. She didn’t like the idea of killing them, but they certainly weren’t choir members, and she had to be a realist. Even if she thought her own life should be sacrificed rather than killing them, there was the question of all the innocents the Crimson Carnage had already killed and would continue to kill if they didn’t stop them.

"Here’s another question," Xander put in, "why don’t they use modern weapons?"

Wesley grimaced. "We’re not entirely sure, but the prevailing theory appears to be that the Church of The Holy Chaos pride themselves as a mystically arcane cult and shotguns and rifles don’t exactly go with that image."

Faith grimaced at the explanation then shrugged. She wished it was the dumbest theory she’d heard, but in her whacked-out life it really wasn’t.

Suddenly Jonathan and Oz exchanged looks. "Somebody, lots of somebodies are trying to sneak up on the house."

"Quite," Giles shot his fiancée a pained look before looking back towards the group. "Cordelia, could you and Charles head upstairs to secure the upper floor from intrusion. Faith, I’d appreciate it if you, Xander, Wesley, and Fred went to the kitchen and protected the rear-."

Giles sighed long-sufferingly. "Wood, could you, Jonathan, and Alonna make your way into the hallway, we’ll stay here and await their doubtless entrance through the front window."

Faith shook her head as she walked out. Typical Jeeves makin’ a battleplan sound like an invitation to dinner!

"Um," Cordelia muttered as she climbed onto the landing, "nice place. I’ll have to ask Jenny where she gets her curtains from."

Cordelia looked towards the back bedroom when she heard something. "You heard that?" she whispered. Gunn nodded silently. "I’ll go first," Cordelia beamed at her boy-friend’s glare, "your protectiveness is sweet, but remember who you’re protecting."

With that she stalked into the bedroom in time to see a sextet of red-robed figures climb through a hole cut in the room’s window. Cordy leapt over the double-bed, very nice duvet she noted, to land beside the surprised group even as her lover ran around the end of the bed to join her.

Cordy slapped aside a hastily drawn crossbow, its bolt firing into the bed’s headboard, as her other hand crashed into the mystery figure’s chest, lifting him from his feet and sending him flinging through the window, shattering what remained of the pane.

Two more of the Crimson Carnage leapt at her, robes whistling around their knees. The one to her left she backhanded to the ground, the second thrust a sword at her that she stepped inside of before nailing her rival with an elbow to the throat, the blow flinging her attacker into the bedside cabinet, knocking it and them to the ground. Cordelia spun around just in time to grab the wrist of the other and twist, the sound of bone cracking ringing out. The would-be assassin let out a croak as the force of her twist flipped him onto the bed.

Cordelia instantly spun around and side-thrust kicked the other Crimson Carnage killer in the chest, bone clearly snapping under the attack as the murderer fell limply to the ground. Cordy didn’t have time to feel bad about the killings as the assassin knocked onto the bed kipped up and at her, ducking under her backhand to come up inside with a knife shooting up that Cordy just managed to sidestep before grabbing the knifehand and twisting the arm back so that the knife jammed into the assassin’s throat.

Cordy looked at her boyfriend, heart dropping at the devastation the two of them had wrecked, four corpses sprawled across the ruined room and two on the back lawn. "We better check on the others."

Cordelia nodded, Gunn’s words breaking her reverie. "Let’s check the front of the house first."

They’d barely stepped into the L-shaped, wooden-panelled kitchen when the door exploded open and a gang of Crimson Carnage warriors charged in, brandishing swords. "Duck!" Faith cursed as she snatched as the wall-hung microwave and flung it over her shoulder and into the faces of the lead two warriors, knocking them flat out and staggering their companions behind them.

And then her companions were racing past her to get into the knocked off balance Crimson Carnage recruits. Faith snatched a frying pan off the wall as one of the killers squirmed out of the melee to charge her. Faith leaned to the left to avoid the downward cleaving strike before swinging side on onto the man and crashing the frying pan into the back of the killer’s head.

The assassin let out a grunt as he fell into the cooker with enough force to knock it over it hadn’t been propped up against the wall. Faith dived in at the killer, looping an arm around their left leg when her opponent tried a rear kick, and brutally yanking it up until the limb dislocated and broke with a crack and blood-curdling shriek. Ignoring her skin-crawling revulsion, she released her grip and sprang onto the killer’s back, her legs wrapped around his torso when she looped her arm around his neck and yanked hard, the bone snapping with a revolting ease.

Shaking off her disgust, she jumped off the limp corpse and spun to check on her friends, relieved to find that only Freddy was injured, and only with a minor cut to his cheek. "Let’s check outside then go and check on the others."

The moment the front door crashed open, Alonna sent a lightning bolt into the first Crimson Carnage warrior, the recruit writhing madly as he fell back out of the house, smoke billowing off his charred corpse. The second and third Crimson Carnage devotees through the door aimed and fired crossbows at them, but she deflected them into the ceiling with a gust of wind. The intruders looked up at the ceiling, the distraction giving her friends a chance to charge forward and attack the gang.

Alonna sidestepped one of the Crimson Carnage’s sword-thrusts to the chest, grabbing her attacker’s out-stretched sword arm at the wrist and driving his elbow down onto her rising knee. Her attacker’s scream was cut off was she segued into an elbow to the throat that doubled him up. Alonna snatched hold of her attacker’s shoulder and flung him into the hallway’s Grandfather clock, the clock falling on top of the man as they crashed to the ground.

Jenny disappeared as the window exploded, also pulling a force-field around her as the Crimson Carnage surged in through the shattered window. Giles rose up like an angry titan, felling the invaders with mind-blast after mind-blast while the witches joined together to use their powers against their assailants.

Jenny winced as a Crimson Carnage caught her lover with a side thrust kick to the ribs that doubled him up. Jenny leapt forward as the killer raised his hatchet and brought it down at Giles’ unprotected neck. Her invisible arm shot in-between the hatchet and her lover’s neck, blocking the blow as she swept the man’s legs from under him. She glided through the other Crimson Carnages, tripping them up and shoving them into one another.

The battle was turning against them, sheer weight of numbers telling, when their friends burst through from the hallway and brutally turned the battle back against their enemies. Then it was over, the floor littered with corpses of the Crimson Carnage and the lounge wrecked, furniture over-turned and in the case of their antique coffee table broken, blood splattered on the walls, and glass covering the carpet. "Good lord," Giles muttered distastefully, "what a bloody mess."

"We’ll have to get our lorry, throw the bodies inside, and dump them in a quarry," Xander said, his face slightly green.

"Okay," Giles looked searchingly towards the Sunnydaler, "as well as Gunn, take Wesley and Wood with you. The rest of you can help us with the clean-up." Giles took a breath and looked around the devastated room. "And well done everyone, I know today’s job was particularly objectionable, but you managed it with aplomb."

"The Hellmouth," Doug Sanders bounded out of the car, his nostrils sniffing as he took in the town’s unique smell. "This is just the place for go-getting vampires!" he turned to his three childes. "Come on, come on. This is the place to be."

Ginny hid a smile as the scrawny vampire with a receding hairline turned towards them. "The Hellmouth, where you even get a welcoming meal laid on." Ginny was unable to stop a chuckle breaking loose. Not only were his lines corny, the dumbass was completely oblivious to her friends encircling them.

The vampire started to step towards them. Before he’d taken a step Theresa was leaping towards him, her fist shooting up in an uppercut that crashed into the unprepared vampire’s chest and out of the other side, the demon exploding into dust before he’d even realised he’d been attacked, their friends falling on the other vampires with similarly abrupt results.

"Vampires?" Ginny heard Theresa’s snort as they strode away. "Give us something that’s a real threat."

Percy’s eyes narrowed as Warren stepped out of the shadows. "What are you doing here, nerd?"

"I know Percy went as The Blockbuster, Kyle went as The Rhino, Tor went as the Abomination, and Blayne went as Sabretooth. And I know you kept at least some of your abilities," Warren paused. "I know you’ve pulled jobs in San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Bernardino, Sacramento, and Anaheim."

Warren licked his lips. "I also know all the jobs you’ve pulled are penny-ante next to the money I can get you. And without having to worry about the law."

Percy grinned, his pulse jumping in anticipation. "We’re listening."

Holland’s breath caught as an ice cold, black wind whistled through the darkened room, the blood-red pentagram on the ground seemingly shimmering. Holland blinked as a light flashed, eyes tearing.

Aurelius, the sixth century Roman nobleman who’s turning was the trigger for the creation of the most feared bloodline of vampires the world had ever known.

The Master, the ninth century German soldier of fortune who led the Order Of Aurelius for a thousand years.

The Three, a trio of medieval vampire hunters ironically turned by the Master in the twelfth century.

Conall, the clawed Scottish border reiver, turned by the Master in the fifteenth century.

Luke, the rough, tough bare knuckles fighter from England turned by the Master in the late 1720s.

Absalom, the 1820s plantation slave and lay preacher turned by the Master and his most devout follower.

Penn, a Puritan turned by Angelus in the late eighteenth century. The last notable member of the august bloodline.

Seconds crawled by as Holland felt goose-pimples spring up all over, his throat seeming closing up, stopping him from breathing. Realising everyone was looking at him, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. "Hello," he said in as a cordial tone as he could manage, "I’m Holland Manners. This is Wolfram & Hart, and we’d like to hire you ladies and gentlemen to deal with a niggling problem of ours."