Faith swallowed as she stalked down the steps to the resistance group’s gym, her hands clammy as she gripped the adjacent steel railing. Faith took a breath, her nerves jangling. All she was gonna do was hit on a guy, something she’d been doing for close onto a decade with ease. All it took was a wink, a look, and a smirk.

‘Cept this was a different sorta guy than usual. A more sensitive, smarter sort and she didn’t have a clue how to act. Reaching the bottom of the steps she stopped at the entrance to regain her composure and looked around.

It was an extensively equipped gym, sprawling out the entire floor area of the house above. The space in front of the far wall was filled with racks containing a vast variety of modern and older weaponry. To the right was a selection of aerobics equipment – well-used stationery bikes, rowing machines, treadmills, and steppers. To the left was a substantial array of gym equipment. In addition to a long rack of dumbbells going up from five to eighty pounds, there were leg-press machines, squat racks, preacher boards, chin-up bars, bench press units, lat machines, and other pieces. The centre of the room was dominated by exercise mats on the ground and heavy bags and speed balls hanging from the ceiling. Skipping ropes, boxing gloves, and sparring mitts were neatly stacked in one corner.

The person she’d come to see was crouched in the gym’s centre, working on one of the bags, his back to her. Faith smirked slightly as she noticed something that gave her an in. Stilling the butterflies fluttering her stomach, she spoke.

* * *

Sweat beaded down Jonathan’s face as he thudded knee after knee into the heavy bag, hands around the bag, pulling it towards him. He preferred to train alone, self conscious about his lack of ability compared to the others. "John, you’re leaning forwards on your back foot, it’s taking you off balance."

Jonathan almost fell at the unexpected voice behind him. Cheeks flushed, he spun to face the intruder. "Hey."

"Hey," he noticed the brunette stunner looked almost as nervous as he felt. Which was strange because she’d seemed awful confident the previous night. After a second the smoky-eyed beauty stepped into the gym. "You said you’d show me your vampire hunting innovations."

Jonathan stared uncertainly at the east coast teen. Faith had said she was interested in seeing them the previous night, but she’d said a lot of things, not all of them nice. Reasoning that Xander would want them to keep their new ally happy at any cost, he nodded stiffly. "Sure," he turned away from the Slayer, "if you come this way-."

"Hey," he turned at a hand on his shoulder, shocked just how soft the Slayer’s touch was. He was surprised to see hurt in the brunette’s expressive eyes. "I know I messed up last night. But you seem like a good guy," the Slayer smiled tentatively. "The sort who’d maybe give a girl a second chance?"

* * *

Wesley paused at the entrance to the cafeteria, conscious that all conversation had stopped and every eye had turned to him. Quelling the unease about being the centre of attention that had plagued him since childhood, he strode over to one of the tables. "May I join you?"

Xander looked up and stared evenly at him for a second before nodding. "Sure."

Such enthusiasm, it warmed his heart. "Thank you," Wesley nodded at Xander before glancing towards the young man’s companion. "Miss Chase, a pleasure." After sitting down, he turned back to Xander. "Mr. Harris, I feel it imperative we strike at Ms. Morgan."

"Any particular reason?" Cordelia asked with more starch than a well pressed shirt.

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "She’s the only one of the vampires important in Ripper’s organisation to spend a lot of time isolated from the others, therefore she’s weaker. Also you mentioned she runs Ripper’s administration."

"Yeah," Xander confirmed, "she used to be a real whiz-kid lawyer."

"In that case striking at her would have a two-fold impact. Not only would it effect the day-to-day running of Ripper’s empire, we could also interrogate her for more information."

"And she’s probably the weakest physically of Ripper’s aides being as she’s the youngest and doesn’t have any magical ability," Xander mused aloud before staring back at him. "So she should be easier to capture. I assume you have a plan?"

"The beginnings of one," Wesley hedged his bets.

Xander took a sip of his coffee before speaking. "Let’s hear it."

* * *

Jonathan stared at her for a heart-stopping second before slowly nodding. "Sure," the teen sounded less than certain but Faith figured she’d take whatever opening she got. "First," the boy walked over to the far wall, Faith following behind, opened a cupboard stuck to the wall, pulled out a mace spray can, and passed it to her, "I’ve got this."

"Thanks," Faith stared at the self-defence item, "but I don’t ‘xactly need mace to look after myself."

"I…I know, but that’s not filled with mace, I filled it with liquefied garlic and holy water."

"Nice," Faith nodded approvingly as she imagined the damage the weapon could do. "Won’t do much against a Master, but against a minor vamp, it could give you the edge. Clever."

"Um, thanks." Eyes still uncertain, Jonathan passed her another aerosol. "This can’s filled with its usual contents, but I engineered the nozzle so there’s a flint in it. So when you use it-.".

"A flame spurts out," Faith nodded. "Very cool."

The youth stared warily at her as if suspecting sarcasm before nodding. "Thanks." The youthful inventor passed her a pair of beautifully made brass knuckles.

"You made these?" Faith asked. The boy nodded. "Nice design."

Jonathan pointed at the knuckles. "If you press the button on the side…" Faith cast the inventor a quizzical look before obeying. Her eyes widened as a trio of quarter inch high studs popped out of the top of the weapon. "Blessed silver with crosses engraved." Jonathan smiled nervously. "Punch a vampire in the face with them and listen to them scream."

"Can’t wait to try ‘em," Faith commented.

"And then you’ve got this," the inventor passed her a steel-capped stake. "If you miss a vampire’s heart first time but still injure it, it’ll grab the stake to pull it out, but when it grabs the stake at the steel cap to pull it out the hollow stake sends a vial of liquefied garlic and holy water into the injured area."

"That’s just plain evil," she shook her head disapprovingly before beaming, "I love it."

The still uneasy youth looked down at the ground for a second before continuing. "We also use these," the boy passed her a torch, "it shoots out an UV light that burns a vampire wherever it lands. It burns but it doesn’t kill them. And that’s about it."

"Some wicked ideas there," Faith complimented. "That huge brain of yours must keep the vamps hoppin’. How do you think all this stuff up?"

If anything the boy looked even more uncomfortable. "I read and watch TV a lot." The teen smiled weakly. "Even before this, I didn’t go out much."

Wow, way too much information. Faith shuffled from foot to foot. "Well it’s real," she struggled for the correct word in her limited vocabulary, "resourceful."

"Um, thanks." The youth stared at her for a long second before speaking. "Xander always believed, even when the other two Slayers came to town and never made contact, that a Slayer would help us defeat Ripper. So he had me make some things that wouldn’t be much use for us, but would work for someone with your powers."

"You made stuff for me?" Faith gasped. They’d made her stuff and she’d acted like a complete bitch.

"Well for whichever Slayer turned up," Jonathan quickly down played. "First there’s a blessed silver garrotte that’ll slice through a vampire’s throat like butter." Faith’s eyes widened as Jonathan pulled out an across body leather sheath containing four knives. "These are throwing daggers are made of teakwood. We’ve tried to use them but we’re not strong or fast enough to get a vampire with them. And then there’s this," Jonathan pulled out a steel boomerang ending in a double-pronged silver spike at both ends.

"Wow, cool," Faith praised. The teakwood knives were the prize, but she ached to give the boomerang a try too. "They’re wicked. Thanks." Taken by a sudden gleeful impulse, she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to Jonathan’s cheek.

"Y…you," the boy looked awestruck, "kissed me!"

Faith stared at the youth for a second. Fuck it. "A kiss?" she shook her head. "That ain’t a kiss." Reaching out, she grabbed the back of Jonathan’s head and pulled him into a lip-lock, her tongue eagerly working its way into the boy’s hot mouth even as her hands softly caressed his face. As soon as oxygen became an issue she pulled away with a wink. "That’s a kiss."

"Gah, ah," Jonathan gulped and stared glazed-eyed. "But I thought you and Harmony? I mean," the boy gulped, "I heard you last night…."

Faith grimaced, it sure didn’t take long for that mistake to come back and bite her on her cute little ass. "Harm was a mistake," she chuckled bitterly. "Like pretty much every other guy or gal I’ve known." She forced a smile. "But I figure you’re different. I figure you’re a sweetheart who could make a girl feel good." She shuffled from foot to foot, heart racing as she looked at the target of her affections. "If you wanted to?"

She was surprised when Jonathan slid his hand into hers. "I haven’t had my breakfast yet," the youth smiled shyly, "have you?"

Faith shook her head, suddenly shy herself. "I’m starving."

* * *

"Here is the plan," Xander began. "Tonight at 19:45 Fred will drive past the front of Lillah’s office. Percy will put his throwing arm to use," Faith rolled her eyes when the former football star grinned and flexed his arm. Like that was gonna work now she had Jonathan. "By throwing a Molotov cocktail through the front window. At the same time, Wesley will be driving a car around the back, Larry will throw a cocktail through that window." Xander paused. "With nowhere else to go, Lillah and her goons will be forced into the tunnels beneath the office. When they reach the tunnel, me, Scott, Owen, and Gunn will be waiting for them. We’ll take out as many goons as we can while herding Lillah towards Faith. Cor will be with Faith to positively identify Lillah in case Lillah brings any female minions with her. Faith knocks out Lillah and we bring her back to base." Xander looked around. "Any questions?"

Lillah yawned as she worked through the lines and lines of accounts, pointlessly but meticulously checking the numbers. After all, who would be stupid enough to steal from her master? The fates of those who’d either dared to challenge or fail him were the stuff of whispered legend.

But it was those very legends that motivated her to continue working. She glanced around, looking towards the three thick-chested vampires lounging on the couch towards the back of the lamp-lit office. Sighing slightly, she returned to her accounts, absently reaching for her glass of o’neg. It wasn’t as good as straight from the source, but Ripper insisted that she was focussed while working.

Even as she looked up to take a sip, the window exploded in a wall of flame, the stench of smoke filling her nostrils, burning the back of her throat, and the fire crackling in her ears. Shocked by the sudden explosion, she flung her blood all over herself. For a half-second she sat there in stupefaction.

Then instinct and primal fear took over. She leapt to her feet and spun to face her body-guards. "Out the back doo-, ahhh!"

Lillan dropped to the ground as the office’s rear window exploded in flames, engulfing one goon in flames. Legs rubbery with shock, Lillah pulled herself up. "Into the tunnels!" she screamed.

* * *

Xander glanced down at his cell’s beep telling him the attack had begun. Licking his lips, he looked towards the others. "Be ready!"

He pulled back his coat back and drew his stake at the sound of feet on the tunnel rungs above. The moment the first vampire, a square-torsoed, towering powerhouse, hit the ground, he lunged forward, feet sloshing in the dirty water rushing through the tunnel.

The vampire spun to face him, surprise filling its scarred face. Xander grunted as the vampire threw a right cross that missed his head but thudded into his shoulder, causing pain to reverberate through his arm and his stake to fall from his grasp, splashing in the sewage water beneath him.

Ignoring the pain, he charged on, crashing into the vampire with his left shoulder, the force of their collision knocking them into the wall, the back of his adversary’s head chipping brick as it bounced off. The snarling demon grabbed hold of his throat and began to squeeze. Air coming in desperate pants, he smashed a forearm into the vampire’s face, shattering its nose.

Blood streaming down the creature’s face, the demon flung him into the far wall. His entire body now blazing in agony, Xander flung himself to one side when the monolithic vampire charged him, leaving a hastily drawn stake for it to run on.

The moment the vampire exploded into dust, Xander looked towards his companions. "Did Lillah get past you?"

Gunn shook his head. "Chick in a power suit headed in the other direction." The African-American grinned. "On her own."

"Great," suddenly weary, Xander slumped against the wall. It was all down to the Slayer now.

* * *

Faith stared out of the corner of her eye at the cheerleader stood at the tunnel’s opposite wall. She had to admit, if only to herself, the beauty had everything she’d never had but always wanted – poise, money, education. Remembering her Watcher had instructed her to try and bond with the resistance group, she figured Cordelia was her best bet. After all they had bitching hotness and a shitload of ‘tude in common.

Licking her lips, she spoke, voicing a concern that had been bugging her. "What’s it like dating?"

Cordelia started at her voice before glancing towards her, scorn in her eyes. "You’re telling me you haven’t dated?" the cheerleader scoffed. "Is it a Slayer thing, because Buffy sure was lousy with men!"

Faith shrugged with rare self-consciousness, damn this opening up crap was wicked hard. "I’ve fucked plenty, but I’ve never actually dated. I figured it was time for a change."

"Well," Cordelia sniffed, "Jonathan’s certainly that."

"Hey!" Faith felt moved to defend her new boyfriend. "Johnny’s smart, sweet, and kind!"

"And about as interesting as rice paper." Cordelia raised her hand. "But I’m not one to judge. My social standing took a serious hit when I started dating Xander." The curvy cheerleader paused. "I learnt an important lesson then. What other people say doesn’t matter as long as he treats you right, you’re happy, and you don’t hurt anyone. Jonathan’s a little shy, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone."

Faith opened her mouth to comment then closed it when she heard the sound of approaching sloshing. Motioning her companion to silence, she sunk back into the shadows, pressing herself against the tunnel’s wet stone. The moment the bedraggled runner drew level, Faith’s companion shrieked. "She’s the one!"

The moment the demon began to spin to face Cordy, Faith sprang out of her hiding place, catching the vampire with fang-jarring clothesline to the back of the head. The demon fell to one knee and turned its head towards her, a disbelieving look on its hideous face.

A foot to the jaw knocked the look off the monster’s face, together with knocking it shoulder-first into the wall. The monster howled before leaping out of the sewage water and charging her.

Faith leaned away from a claw swipe, snatched a hold of the attacking arm at the wrist, twisted at the waist, and straightened her arm. "Ahhh!" the demon screamed as it flew over her bent frame and crashed face-first into the far wall.

As soon as the dazed vampire managed to stumble to its feet Faith was on it, her heel kick to the back of the head knocking the unfortunate monster back into the wall. This time the demon attempted to turn to face her but she was remorseless.

Faith dropped into a crouch beneath a feeble right hook, blocked an underpowered left knee to the face on her forearm, and then snapped a blindingly fast trio of blows into the female demon’s midsection. The moment the demon started to double up, Faith surged to her feet, linked her hands around the back of the vampire’s head and yanked it down into a succession of crunching knees to the face.

"Jesus, Slayer," she heard the resistance leader’s shocked voice behind her, "she’s out."

"Can’t be too careful." Grabbing two handfuls of hair, she slammed the vampire’s skull into the wall twice before dropping its limp body to the waters underfoot. "Now it’s out," she announced. "Got the chains?" Faith grimaced inwardly. Now came the hard part.

* * *

"Aaaah," Lillah groaned as she awoke, her face throbbing like she’d been worked over by a Sosa swung bat. Forcing her eyes open, she found herself in a dark drab room, chained to a steel gurney, and surrounded by a bunch of people she vaguely recognised and one, an ebony-eyed beauty she instinctively loathed. That bitch, she had to be the Slayer. "Ripper will make you pay for this!"

The Slayer chuckled, although her eyes remained cold. "Was I you, I’d be way more worried about myself than anyone else. ‘Ppreciate the thought tho’." The teen’s black locks danced as she looked around. "Rest of you out," she ordered. "Me and Wes will take care of things from her-."

"This is my group," the resistance leader interrupted. "I’m not going anywhere."

"I…I need to ask her questions about passwords and stuff," a short, pale-faced boy commented. The Slayer shook her head, cupid lips opening in a protest. "I’m the only one qualified to ask them."

"Fine," the Slayer scowled at the boy before turning to her.

"Ah," Lillah forced a sneer. "Young love, how sweet," she paused. "I do so – ahhh!"

She screeched and stared in horror at the filed down steel cross the Slayer had thrust through her hand, pinning it to the gurney, smoke wafting up from the wound. "Like I said," the raven-haired bitch calmly spoke, "was I you, I’d be more worried about myself than anybody else."

"Oh god, owww, owww, ahhhhh." Sweat pouring off her, Lillah forced her eyes away from her impaled hand and to the Slayer. "I won’t talk," she promised. "Ripper would kill me."

"And I won’t?" the supernatural warrior raised a finely mascaraed eyebrow. "Lady, you’re a dust-bag just waitin’ to happen. Only question is do you go hard or easy?"

Lillah screamed as the Slayer emphasised the point by spraying something directly into her left eye. Her eye appeared to burst into an unceasing, impossibly hot flame. "Lady," by contrast the brunette’s voice was colder than ice, "you ain’t nothing to me. Only way to end this quickly is by giving us the answers we need."

* * *

"Lillah’s been taken."

Ripper swung from his perusal of the feeding pens, such delicious desperation, to face the speaker. "Taken?"

Angelus swallowed at his hard tone. "Neither her or her escort returned from the office last night. I sent one of the ‘Wanna-Bes’," the Irish vampire referred to the humans who willingly served them either in the hope of gaining power or being turned, "to check on the office."

"And?" Ripper impatiently growled when the vampire failed to continue.

"The office has been firebombed at the front and rear."

"Firebombed?" Ripper’s temper flared. That damn Slayer. First all those minions, now Lillah. What next? Forcing his seething under control, Ripper smiled tightly. "So she’s working with the resistance is she? Rather than going straight at me like the last two." He managed a laugh. "The lass has a cagier Watcher than the others. Less hidebound by tradition." His smile was replaced by a scowl. "But it won’t make any difference. Not in the long run."

Gunn swung his axe left and right, muscles tightening as he trained, repeating the same set of manoeuvres until they were second nature. And then moving onto the next set. "You always knew how to handle your weapon, Chuck."

Gunn spun around to face the speaker. He was surprised that despite her flippant remark, the sultry Slayer looked uncharacteristically nervous. "Faith."

The curvy Bostonian smiled weakly. "We need to talk."

"Really?" Gunn stared down at the supernatural warrior. "I thought you’d said all you wanted to last night?"

He was again surprised when the Slayer’s face fell. "Yeah, ‘bout that," Faith bit her bottom lip before continuing. "You were right, I was outta line."

"Is that an apology I hear?" he mocked.

The Slayer’s ruby lips quirked up into a shit-eating grin. "Nearest I’m ever gonna get to one, ‘least ways," she retorted. The brunette paused. "I was wrong to break up with you that way."

"I know you won’t believe it, but the position of my girl-friend is still open," Gunn replied.

"No, I believe you alright, but," he was disappointed when the sassy Bostonian shook her head, "you’re a good guy, a real good one, but I was dating you for the wrong reasons. I wanna," Faith shrugged, "start doing the right thing for the right reason. You get that?" Gunn didn’t but nodded anyway. The Slayer smiled slightly. "You willin’ to settle for friends?"

Gunn smiled. "I think I can manage that."

The Slayer dazzled him with a dimple-deepening smile. "Wicked."

* * *

"Anything useful in those books?"

Wesley started at the voice behind him. Gathering himself, he glanced over his shoulder to see the resistance group’s resident witch stood in the doorway of what passed for the mansion’s library\study. "Miss Madison," he greeted as he hurriedly yet reluctantly put the book down and rose. "They’re an interesting record of Miss. Summers and Mr. Giles’ exploits, but unfortunately don’t provide any useful insight into his mind. The only hints I’ve been able to unearth suggest that ‘Ripper’ is somewhat a regression to Mr. Giles’ ‘rowdy’ youth." Wesley paused. "One thing that does puzzle me though. In the eighteen months Miss Summers served as Sunnydale’s Slayer she faced a veritable myriad of demons. And yet your own records state you face comparatively few in the past three years."

The witch’s pretty face twisted into a grimace. "That’s down to Ripper. He likes things to run smoothly, no sightings of unusual demons to alarm the locals, no apocalyptic rituals, and no messy massacres. Any demon that comes to the Hellmouth to cause trouble is quickly dealt with." Amy paused. "It sounds almost sick, but I almost wish I’d have been a Scooby in the early days. As you know from the diaries, I was involved in two of their adventures, but to face all those demons must have been challenging."

Wesley smiled fondly at the witch. "I sense something of a kindred spirit."

Amy reddened. "I’d be interested in hearing about your own adventures with Faith."

It was Wesley’s turn to redden. "It would be my honour, dear. I feel I should warn you though, my stories are hardly as colourful as Mr. Giles’."

"Oh I’m sure they’ll be just fine." Amy smiled. "And the company of someone interested in demonology and magic would be more than welcome."

Wesley bowed his head slightly. "And I would more than welcome such delightful company."

* * *

"Tell me where you managed to get the C4?"

Xander smirked at the Slayer’s question. "You heard about the time we faced the Judge?"

The brunette beauty shrugged even as she continued to look through the binoculars fixed on the currently empty road. "He babbles on sometimes, I tend not to listen."

"Maybe you should." For the first time the Bostonian looked towards him. "His plan about Lillah worked."

The Slayer arched a finely mascaraed eyebrow. "’Bout the Judge?"

Xander nodded even as he wondered if he’d scored a point for the struggling Englishman. "During that little incident I broke into an army base with Cordy," the brunette chuckled throatily, "and stole a rocket launcher. After Ripper attacked the school, me, Percy, and Jonathan went back and stole some supplies."

"John," for the first time since he’d met her, there was an uncertain note in the curvy Bostonian’s voice, "he’s on the level, right?"

Xander glanced across at his companion, his wariness about her slightly ebbing with this glimpse behind her carefully constructed armour. "He’s as loyal as they come," Xander grimaced.

"What’s up, Harris?"

"I wish I could say the same about myself." His raven-haired companion shot him a suspicious look. Xander shook his head. "No, nothing like that. All the way through junior high, we had a clique – me, Wills, Amy, Jonathan, and Jesse. Amy kinda drifted away from us, but when Buff turned up," he looked down at the dusty ground, "me and Wills sorta forgot about Jonathan. We were too important for him. We had a mission."

"Everyone makes mistakes," the Slayer said after a second. "Wes reckons that the important thing is learning from them. He might even be righ-," the Slayer’s tone turned from contemplative to tension-filled in a micro-second, "fuck, they’re here!"

Xander stared through his one-handed telescope. Sure enough a convoy of dust-grey trucks were heading into the valley he crouched at the opposite end of. Just like Lillah had said, carrying their ‘cattle’ for Ripper’s feeding pens.

Xander smiled grimly. The feeding pens might be impregnable, but the convoy certainly wasn’t. His thumb pressed down on the detonator as the last truck entered the valley.

* * *

Cordelia’s eyes widened as the first truck’s wheels exploded, rubber flying off, and the truck skidding and flipping over to crash down on its side at the valley’s exit. Gathering herself, Cordelia pressed her own detonator.

The force of the explosion lifted the last truck off its back wheels and flipped it over onto its back. The ground shook with enough impact to make the vehicle just in front career off the road and crash into a boulder.

Cordelia smirked as she noted the other three trucks come to stops, stymied by the chaos. Suddenly her ear-piece crackled into life. "Extraction teams are a go!"

* * *

Jonathan’s blood thundered as he joined Larry and Percy in racing down the valley’s slopes to the haphazardly parked lorries, the two football stars’ longer legs and greater athleticism ensuring they were streaking ahead of him.

Reaching the back doors of their target, Jonathan was grateful that he’d had the foresight to suggest they bring bolt-cutters. Reaching up, he snapped through the lorry’s padlocked chain and yanked the door open.

He gasped as the stench from within hit him, the mingled smells of sweat, urine, and faeces almost flooring him. Gathering himself, he peered into the truck, dozens of pairs of frightened eyes gleaming back at him. "Get out!" he yelled, voice squeaking in the tense moment. "Run for it!"

"Jon! Watch out!"

Turning at Larry’s anguished shout, he saw the powerfully-built footballer stake one vampire as another charged past him and towards Jonathan. Deciding he didn’t have time to draw his stake, Jonathan swung his bolt-cutters for all he was worth.

"Runt!" the vampire snarled as he blocked Jonathan’s desperate attack on his upper left arm before stepping in and throwing a right at Jonathan’s head. Jonathan jerked away from the attack, the punch smashing with denting force into the lorry’s door, even as he attempted a snap heel-kick at the monster’s inner knee.

The vampire grunted as he blocked the kick on his thigh. Jonathan gasped as the demon caught him with a dazing backhand slap to the head. "Ummmm," he groaned as the vampire snatched hold of his throat and slammed him against the lorry.

Back aching, he made for a kick only to gasp as the vampire buried a knee deep into his gut. Vision blurring, he was contemptuously flung to the ground. "Ooooooh," he muttered as his hair was grabbed and he was dragged back to his knees. His elbow caught the demon in his hip, but failed to stop the vampire from slamming his head against the lorry door with teeth-rattling force.

"That’s my man you’re messin’ with." Suddenly the hand around his head disappeared and he was covered by descending dust. "Hey," a pair of gentle hands took hold of him under his armpits and eased him to his feet, "you five by five?" Jonathan smiled dazedly at the Slayer. His heart leapt as his befuddled mind caught up with just what she’d said. ‘Her man?’ "Wicked," the Slayer beamed at him. "Damn, never thought the smell of burning rubber could get me so wet." Faith stared at him for a second. "Or maybe it’s the hot as hell company?"

"Ga, ah, uh, uh," Jonathan babbled.

"Oh yeah baby," Faith panted with a teasing smirk. "Talk dirty to me, you naughty boy."

* * *

Ripper stared around the poorly-lit, underground chamber. It was a long room, its entrance guarded by four gun-toting vampires at its surface and another quartet inside the pens with standing orders than nerve be gas released should the outside guard be over-powered. Nerve gas that would kill those raggedly-clothed victims imprisoned in the cells lining the chamber, their forlorn pleas and sobs permanently silenced.

Normally the captives’ useless begging would force a smile from him, no matter the circumstances. Not today though. "All of them escaped?"

The muscular vampire beside him shrugged. "A few stragglers were re-captured, but most of them, yeah."

Ripper’s scowl deepened at Angelus’ report. Six hundred ‘blood-bags’, an offering from his mid-west subordinate, enough food to keep his Sunnydale army fed for around a month. "How many of the escort survived?"

"Four."

"Kill them," Ripper growled. "Then send orders to Winters to have an emergency delivery here by the weekend."

His companion blanched. "Six hundred kids off the streets of California in less than three days is tricky."

"He’ll do it if he knows what’s good for him," Ripper warned. "I want patrols on all our assets bolstered and everybody on the lookout for likely candidates for turning – soldiers, cops, and martial artists. Before this was amusing, but this is the last outrage!"

"How about Penn?" Gunn suggested as the meeting to discuss what target to attack next continued into its second hour. "He’s the only one of Ripper’s major allies who goes off alone."

"His schedule’s way too unpredictable for us to set a trap without having someone tailing him," Cordelia pointed out before smirking. "Are you volunteering?"

"’Kay," Faith broke the tense silence that followed the cheerleader’s put-down. "So what we gonna do? I ain’t sittin’ ‘round twiddlin’ my thumbs waitin’ for Ripper to strike back."

"I think we can all agree that keeping Ripper off balance is a good idea," Xander put in. "Question is how?"

"I might have an idea," Wesley put in, tone characteristically tentative. "We make an example of the most high-ranking ‘Wanna-Be’."

"We cant!" Jonathan let out a shocked squeak. "Wanna-Bes are humans."

"Yeah, they’re humans." Faith nodded. "They’re humans who chose to work for vampires. Vampires don’t have a choice being evil, Wanna-Bes do. In my book, they’re worse."

"But killing humans," Amy shook her head. "We’ve never killed humans."

"Word to the wise," Faith replied. "Demons aren’t the only evil out there. And I’ve killed plenty of humans – a telekinetic assassin in Texas, a Kentuckian cannibal family, a necromancer in Calgary, and a Voodoo priestess in New Orleans." Faith hid a wince at Jonathan’s shocked expression. ‘Kay, maybe she shouldn’t have been quite so blunt.

Thankfully Gunn plunged into the stunned hush that followed her revelation. "Guy’s working for the baddest dog in the pound I ain’t waiting ‘round to ask if his heart’s beatin’ or not. Way I figure it, live or dead, his heart’s rotten to the core."

"During the second world war," Wesley’s more measured tone followed Gunn’s, "the French resistance were almost more aggressive pursuing the Vichy French, collaborators, then they were against the Germans, reasoning such action discouraged collaboration."

"That was a war!" protested Amy.

"But this isn’t?" Harris looked towards the remembrance wall. "Try telling them that."

Harris wasn’t subtle, but he seemed to have got the point across. "Hitting City Hall during the day makes more sense," Cordelia volunteered. "That way they can’t send for reinforcements except," the cheerleader’s nose wrinkled, "through the sewers."

Faith shook her head. "I don’t have a problem killing evil humans. Problem is, we don’t know if any human employees that Finch might have are in on it and I ain’t takin’ the risk of killing innocents."

"Night-time it is then," Wesley looked towards Xander. "We’ll need the layout of City Hall to plan our attack."

"Yeah," Xander looked towards Jonathan.

"Faith," Wesley whispered in her ear, "Trick running Finch’s security won’t be a problem will it?"

"No," Faith felt an icy finger work up her spine at her memories of Trick, "no problem at all."

* * *

The moment the meeting broke up, Faith rose and hurried towards Jonathan. "Hey Jon," she forced a bright smile even as her insides twisted, "I thought we could maybe talk?"

"About what?" Jonathan’s voice trembled, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "About what it’s like to kill another human?"

"Johnny," she reached to stroke his cheek only to pull away at his heart-rending flinch. Jesus, did he think she was gonna hurt him?

"I’ve gotta go." Shocked and hurt into immobility, she could only watch as Jonathan hurried out of the conference room. Tears formed in her eyes. The one decent guy she’d felt anything for and he didn’t want her. No surprise there, all Wes’ fine words were crap, she was worthless.

* * *

Tears blurred Jonathan’s vision as he stumbled to his room, oblivious to his friends rushing around him. The first girl to ever notice he existed. Beautiful, confident, strong. She was dazzling and he hadn’t even questioned why someone like her would be interested in a nobody like him. And now he had his answer, there was something inherently wrong with her.

He realised he’d stopped by his door. Reaching out a trembling hand, he opened the door. "We need to talk."

Jonathan gasped as a strong hand slammed into his back between his shoulder blades, knocking him to his knees inside the room. Looking up at his assailant, he squeaked a protest. "You can’t do this! Get out!"

The door slammed shut behind his intruder. "I don’t think so," Gunn replied. He gasped as the big demon hunter grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him to his feet. "Not until I’ve explained a few things." Jonathan opened his mouth to repeat his demand for the African-American to get out. "Shut it. Look at you man," the black’s nostrils flared disdainfully, "you should be worshipping the ground Faith walks on. Instead you treat her like crap!"

"She’s killed people!" he protested. "That might not mean anything to you, but it does to me!"

He gasped when the African-American’s eyes hardened and he pushed Jonathan into the door. "Wake-, no grow up!" the African-American stuck his face in his. "Do you think this is a game? Do you think those Faith killed are innocents? That they wouldn’t rip your heart out as soon as look at you? This isn’t a fairy tale and we’re not the knights of the round table! This is real life and we’re in a war!" Suddenly the African-American stepped back, disgust written across his face. "I don’t know why I’m wasting my time here. I should be going to Faith’s using this to get myself back with her." Jonathan scowled, Gunn chuckled grimly. "Oh yeah, you still like her. Unfortunately you make her happy, so I’m not going to make a move. But sort this out and fast or I will."

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Faith started as Wes’ voice crackled in her newly-acquired earpiece. Forcing thoughts of her disintegrating relationship aside, she stared up at the looming building before her. "Yeah," she whispered, "I’m ready."

The plan was simple enough, she mused as she shot her grappling hook up onto the fourth floor ledge and began climbing up. She’d break in through one of the upper windows. At roughly the same time, the resistance group would hit the building at its front and rear entrances, and the sewers, hopefully diverting the vamps downstairs.

It was the ‘hopefully’ that worried her. Faith scowled as she cut a hole through the nearest window and climbed into a darkened room. If the vamps didn’t buy into their diversion, she’d be left alone in a building filled with demons.

Always a fun place for a gal with an empty dance card to be.

Quelling her disquiet, Faith turned on her pencil-light to find she was in a dusty storeroom. Making her way to the door, she whispered into her ear-piece. "I’m in position, Wes."

"Understood. Good luck."

"Thanks." After easing the door open, she crept into the dimly-lit, drably-carpeted corridor beyond. A smile tugged at her lips at the sound of alarms going off. It seemed things were all going to plan.

Now all she needed to do was kill a man.

A dead weight settled on her chest. Whatever Johnny thought, she didn’t like killing. But every person she’d slain had preyed on the helpless, people she was sworn to protect. Just like Finch, a politician who turned a blind eye to vampires, co-operating with them so it was easier for them to do what they wished.

Reaching a stairwell, she crept down onto the second floor where she knew Finch’s office was. She started onto the floor, easing the stairwell’s iron-grey door open.

A foot slammed into the door, trapping her head between the frame and the door as she peeked through the gap. Dazed, Faith slumped against the door frame, helpless to prevent a hand roughly snatching a hold of her hair and flinging her onto the corridor carpet.

Faith grunted as she hit the corridor on her shoulder before rolling up to confront her adversary. And then her world slowed to an almost dead stop.

"Trick," she whispered. Faith froze as she recalled the frenzied hours spent tearing through Boston demon dives vainly searching for Bel when the demon and his sire had snatched her. And finally finding her ravaged body.

The vampire took advantage of her momentary shock to drive a right into her forehead. Head ringing, Faith dropped to one knee before diving out of the way of a follow-up kick at her face.

"Ripper wants you for himself, he has a real thing for Slayers." Trick’s smile could have chilled the sun. "So I guess this will have to be our little secret."

Faith didn’t bother with a reply, choosing instead to concentrate of surviving. After rolling away from a stomp to the back, she kipped up to her feet. Trick snarled before throwing a right she slid inside before crashing a forearm into her adversary’s face.

The demon stumbled backwards before retaliating with a leaping crescent kick. Faith responded by hooking her arm around the creature’s ankle and pulling up.

The vampire fell with a roar, crashing headfirst to the ground. Faith’s hand darted into her jacket for her stake. Her fingers were closing around the stake when the demon was up and on her, fists and feet flying.

Faith winced as a heel kick crashed into her left thigh. Snatching hold of her attacker’s leg under the knee, she twisted her body at the waist throwing the demon off-balance and into a fire extinguisher fastened to the cream painted wall.

Trick growled and ripped the extinguisher off the wall, flinging it at her. Faith dropped to the ground, the projectile flying overhead and into the wall behind. Faith forward rolled to the vampire’s side and leapt up, grabbing the demon around the mid-section and belly-to-belly suplexing him into the glass cabinet to the side.

The cabinet shattered on impact, crashing down on top of them. "Shitttt" Faith writhed in agony as the cabinet’s wooden frame smashed into her left knee. Ignoring the pain, she repeatedly elbowed the vampire lying beside her in the head before snatching up a shard of glass and dragging it across the beast’s throat.

Faith let out a relieved sob as the demon exploded into dust. Finally it was over. The last of Bel’s killers was dead.

Her blood chilled as she heard the sound of a door opening behind her. She looked up to see a man she recognised from the local papers as Allan Finch walking out and carrying a big revolver. The politician’s hand trembled but mostly he pointed the weapon at her.

Faith swallowed as the air resonated to the sound of the pale-faced man dragging the hammer back on his revolver. "T…the master," the man trembled as he approached, legs shaking beneath him, "will be very pleased when I bring him you."

Wincing with the effort, Faith shoved the ruined cabinet off and attempted to stand. "Oh god!" she screamed as her left leg buckled under her, dropping back to the carpet with a painful thud.

"O…of course I’ll have to shoot you in the," sweat beads glistened on the Mayor’s forehead, "knees first, to make sure you don’t resist." Heart pounding, Faith started to crawl the length of the corridor, the politician in dogged pursuit.

"Aaaaah!" the city official screamed as a jet of fire hit him in the face, the stench of charred flesh filling the air. "Aaaaah!!" The wounded civil servant shot blindly at his attacker only for a diminutive shape to crash into the wounded man, knocking them both to the carpet, the interloper on top. "Aaaaah!" The newcomer snatched up a glass shard from the floor and repeatedly drove it into the Mayor’s ravaged face.

The newcomer slumped on top of the corpse for a second before wearily raising his head and turning towards her. Faith’s heart leapt. "J…Jon." Her boyfriend smiled weakly. Faith’s eyes misted over. Despite everything, he’d cared enough to come for, to save, her. She smiled weakly. "Hey, wanna give a girl a hand up?"

"Sure," Jonathan scrambled to his feet, hurried over to her side and eased him upright, his gentle arm around her shoulders just about the best thing she’d ever experienced. Despite that, Faith was unable to stop herself moaning when she tried to step through her left leg. Jonathan shot her a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

Faith smiled with rare softness. "Some ice and a coupla days’ rest and I’ll be five by five. Thanks to you." Jonathan reddened. "How come ya’re here?"

"I…I split from the others after we got in," Jonathan explained. "I…I had to make sure that you were okay." Jonathan glanced down at the corpse. "I…I didn’t want to kill him, but I couldn’t let him hurt you."

"That’s what life’s about Johnny," her boyfriend’s blush deepened when she laid a gentle kiss on his cheek, "making the hard choices." Faith winced as pain flared through her leg again. "How about you help me out of here?"

"Um, sure."

* * *

"Faith, may I come in?"

"Sure Wes," Faith grinned as the Watcher started into her room then stopped, a deep blush colouring his cheeks. Dressed in cotton shorts that were short enough to allow her to press an ice pack to her injured leg and a tiny crop top, her Watcher’s reaction was as enjoyable as it was predictable.

"I beg your pardon," the Englishman quickly closed his eyes and spun to face the door. "I merely wished to check how your leg was progressing?"

"Relax, Wes," Faith smirked, "ain’t nothing you ain’t seen before. Sit down."

"Very well." The bespectacled man coughed before turning around and sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes resolutely fixed on the wall opposite. "How is your leg?"

Faith’s smirk widened at the Watcher’s staunch properness. "Slayer healing is wicked cool. Wes, I was thinkin’…"

The Englishman chuckled. "Words that never fail to fill me with dread."

Faith ignored that ‘cause she was the bigger person. Oh, and she needed somethin’. "Once this is over," she paused, her normal glibness momentarily failing her. "This is the Hellmouth isn’t it? I figure that maybe we should be stationed here permanently."

"Oh dear," it was Wes’ turn to chuckle. "I thought you were rather more cunning that that." The Englishman turned to face her. "Young Mr. Levinson has made quite an impression hasn’t he?" Faith felt a flame rise in her cheeks. "You will be careful won’t you?"

"I ain’t ‘xactly a virgin, Wes," Faith defensively replied.

She was surprised when Wesley patted her on the back of her hand. "I know dear," the Englishman gently replied. "But I also know you’re not used to forming deep emotional attachments. Don’t rush head-long in." The Englishman paused. "If you promise to be careful, I’ll consider moving here on a more permanent basis." Faith beamed. Wesley chuckled. "You should do that more often." Faith stared at her Watcher, confusion furrowing her brow. "Smile like that; you’ll have young Mr. Levinson even more under your spell." The Watcher chuckled. "If that is of course possible."

Faith’s mouth opened and closed several times before she managed to retaliate. "And how about you and Ams?" she needled. "You hopin’ to turn that meeting of minds into a grinding of bodies?" She grinned as her Watcher leapt up, spluttered something indistinct, and back-pedalled out of her room. That’d teach him to mess with her!

* * *

"How do you think the Slayer’s turning out?"

Xander took a second to contemplate the question even as he looked down at its source, his naked girl-friend huddled in a ball by his side. He brushed a stray hair off her face before replying. "Better than I thought," he admitted. "She seems as good in battle as the rumours made out and appears to actually listen and be able to work in a team which I didn’t think she would."

Cordelia sniffed. "The Cleavage-Bomb and Jonathan are a weird pair."

Xander chuckled at his girl-friend’s comment. "People said the same about us-, oof!" he grunted then chuckled at his girl-friend’s less than playful gut punch. "My tiger’s still got her claws."

Cordelia giggled. "You know it buster." The former cheerleader scowled. "If this Slayer’s so red hot why aren’t we going up against Ripper straight on?"

"Because," Xander sighed. "Ripper’s far too strong. But if we hit him sideways on, we destabilise him, make him look bad, and annoy him into making rash decisions, then we go in for the kill."

"Sounds like a long job."

"Yeah," Xander grimaced. "It does, doesn’t it."

* * *

Jonathan walked through the base’s corridors, eyes fixed on the rusty brown carpet. Faith was safe, but to ensure her safety, he’d killed. Not a demon, but another human being. He shuddered inwardly as he remembered the man’s screams, the way he’d felt under him as he’d trashed his last.

"Oh look who it isn’t. The hero."

Jonathan stopped and looked up at the mocking voice. "H…hi, Harmony," he smiled weakly. School was some years behind them, but there was still a part of him that shrivelled inside when confronted with his former tormenter.

The blonde’s smile widened, perfect white teeth gleaming maliciously. "Jonathan," Harmony sniffed. "So now you’re the tough guy. That’ll get Faith all over you." The blonde paused before giggling. "Until she realises what a dork you are. Even a humongous slut like her won’t put up with you for long! Boring!"

The former cheerleader pushed past him before hurrying off. Jonathan spun after her, mouth opening in a defiant protestation only to close it again without uttering a syllable. His shoulders slumped. It wasn’t as if Harmony wasn’t saying anything he didn’t already know. A girl as wild, experienced, and passionate as Faith would soon tire of his nervous fumblings.

* * *

"Come on you buggers!"

After a second the two vampires charged him. Ripper threw his head back and laughed. Taken aback, the two demons paused in their advance.

Ripper took advantage of their confusion to leap forward, hammering a hard right into the nearest vampire’s jaw. Even as the demon stumbled backwards, Ripper turned his attention to the demon’s companion, snatching a hold of his shoulders and yanking him towards him and into a knee to the groin.

The vampire grunted but to his credit managed to respond with a left hook that Ripper blocked on his elbow before nutting the wanker. The demon’s nose shattered under the brutal impact. Ripper lunged forward to finish him off.

Unfortunately the other demon chose that moment to leap back into the fight, slamming a foot into Ripper’s upper right thigh. "Bastard!" Ripper’s eyes flickered yellow as pain stabbed through his leg. Ducking under the demon’s fellow-up leaping spin kick, Ripper simultaneously blocked a kick at his face from the other vampire on his forearm.

At that moment, the third vampire in the room decided to enter the fray, charging him from behind. Feeling the demon’s hands dropping onto his shoulders, Ripper reached up, grabbed his attacker’s wrists and threw him into the other two.

Even as the trio hit the ground, Ripper charged forward. The first to reach his feet received as his reward a kick to the jaw that knocked him flat back down. The second caught a heel kick to the stomach that folded him up like a deck chair, helpless to prevent a karate chop to the back of the neck.

Leaping over the descending demon, he caught the third of his sparring partners with a double-footed drop kick to the chest, knocking him into the wall. Hitting the ground in a crouch besides the first of his opponents, Ripper took great delight in stomping on the downed demon’s face. The second dived at him, but Ripper side-stepped the desperate attack and retaliated with a jaw-smashing palm strike. Ripper chuckled as he looked around his decimated sparring partners, savouring their piteous moans. "And he cried for there were no more worlds to conquer."

"Oh I don’t know about that."

Ripper turned to face Angelus stood in the gym’s doorway. " Have you something to say?"

"Only that Trick and Finch are dead."

The news hit like a lightning bolt. Forcing his temper under control, he glared his almost smirking sire. "The Slayer?"

Angelus nodded. "Who else?"

Ripper let out a frustrated snarl that had the defeated trio charging for the exit. He’d gone to a hell of a lot of trouble breaking in Finch. First he’d killed the previous mayoral incumbent, an apparent necromancer of considerable skill, and then he’d intimidated and bribed Finch into seeing things his way. All that work gone and Trick dead to boot.

Ripper pursed his lips, a bitter taste in his mouth. The Slayer had now gone past amusing and into the territory of being annoying. If he left things much longer she might even become a threat. "Angelus, how is the recruiting coming along?"

"Penn and I have identified a choice target we’re going to take soon. A very dangerous man."

"Good." Mindful of his minion developing a power-base, he came to a decision. "Bring him to me." Judging from Angelus’ sour expression he’d made the correct choice. "Your friends, James and Elizabeth, have them sent for." Angelus started to smirk. And I want Death’s Bastards here."

Angelus shook his head. "We don’t need those crazy-."

"I say what we need." Ripper interrupted. "Get them."

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