"You’re sure this is the right way?"

Angel hid a smile at Gwen’s question as he led his companions, savouring the sunlight breaking through the forest’s tall trees to warm his face. "I’m sure," he chuckled, "Atlantis’ new leaders were very anxious I didn’t come back."

"Just what did you do to them?" Connor asked.

Angel’s amusement fled. "I put the fear of Angelus into them."

"Oh," Connor fell silent.

For his son’s safety he could put up with another stain on his soul. Besides he hadn’t actually done anything, just showed them his strength, vampiric face, and coldly delivered a few threats. That had been enough to convince them. "We’re here," he pointed ahead, towards a mossy hill perhaps a quarter of a mile away. "Half-way up the hill there’s a cave entrance. The natives call it ‘Cavern Of Lost Warriors’. There’s reputed to be a great treasure inside but all who have tried to take it have never returned."

"Comforting," Gwen muttered.

"A rare challenge!" Groo enthused.

Angel smiled grimly as he continued on his way. His opinion was somewhat closer to Gwen‘s but the job had to be done.

Soon the four of them broke out of the wood and into the small, tall-grassed clearing between the forest and the hill. Now they were nearer, Angel took an opportunity to inspect the hill. There was nothing especially foreboding about it, despite its blood-stained reputation. Just a grassy hill with a muddy track snaking up to a narrow opening half-way up.

"Remember," Angel warned as they reached the entrance, "we have no idea what’s in there. So be careful."

"That’s my dad," Connor muttered. "Always with the good cheer."

Angel ignored his son’s comments to plunge into the narrow passage, grateful of the vampire eyesight that allowed him to see in the darkness. The path wound and twisted, dipped up and down, until Angel was sure that they’d long since left the hill, but although their journey was tension-filled, they encountered no trouble.

Until they turned a corner to find the path had spilled out into a clearing dominated by a snarling, squid-like creature. The grey-skinned monster’s body was dominated by a single golden eye and a long, wide mouth filled with dozens of curved teeth, the sort that once secured in a limb would never let go. Its five pairs of eight foot long, wiry tentacles all ended in different weapons – hammers, claws, pinchers, spikes, and one pair of huge sausage-fingered hands.

"Okay," Angel groaned. "This isn’t good."

* * *

"Fair Faith! I wonder if I might have a word!"

‘Fair Faith’ rolled her eyes before turning to face the one calling for her attention. The excitement of meeting the Knights of the Round Table had soon paled. Well after the sixth proposal of marriage and third knight offering to be her champion. And if she caught Lancelot looking at her ass again, well Guinevere was gonna be wicked disappointed when he tried it on with her again.

Her face smoothed as she recognised the approaching figure as Merlin. He at least had a modicum of common sense. Something that was in even shorter supply here in males than it was in her time\world. "Any news?"

The bearded mage nodded. "Aye lass," he replied, eyes troubled. "It would appear that in years long past this castle was the home of a powerful dark arts mage. Your friend witch appears to be a woman of considerable wit and nerve, for it was in this time she hid the trident. But be warned, a creature of considerable power defends it!"

"One thing I don’t get," Faith asked. "Is if Red hid these tridents why there’s these evil guardians to prevent us getting them?"

"The placing of such potent artefacts through the time stream and dimensions would be a great undertaking even for a magician as powerful as your friend," Merlin slowly replied. "Perhaps she further wished to assure their safety and assigned them protectors but was unable to spare the power to allow these beasts to recognise those who had justly come for the Tridents."

"Yeah," Faith nodded as she walked around the courtyard, the spacious lawn they walked filled with sparring knights.. Her eyes rolled at the number of squires gawking at her. "Makes sense."

"And you have been justly chosen," Merlin stopped in front of her, a suddenly frighteningly forbidding expression on his lined face. "I understand you had words with Bronwyn. You falsely believe you are not the sort of person my Slayer should be listening to?"

Faith didn’t bother to ask how he’d found all this out. Hell, he was Merlin, he could have plucked it from her head. "I killed a man, murdered him," Faith growled, "and I laughed as he died. That sound like the sort of gal your Slayer should be hangin’ with?"

"And would you do the same today?" Merlin demanded.

"Of course not!" Faith hotly replied.

"Would you in fact give your life without a second thought to save his?" After a second she silently nodded. "I have lived centuries Faith, and in that time I have come to understand you humans," her head snapped up at that. Merlin wasn’t human? What was he? "You claim to have committed some terrible crimes," Merlin shrugged. "Perhaps you have. But the girl before me could not do such a thing. The girl before me is strong-willed, loyal, and brave. The girl before me, although she would deny it onto death is compassionate and kind, the only flaws I see are a slowness to trust, a lack of patience, and an inability to believe in herself." Faith’s mouth opened. "Silence. Bronwyn could do far worse than ask for one who has truly lived such as you for advice. Now," the wizard looked around, "perhaps you should round up your companions. I will find Bronwyn. You have a mission to complete."

* * *

"You’re telling me that’s Garm?" Buffy whispered.

"Indeed," the Immortal muttered his reply.

"Oh boy," she whispered. "Do you think he’s been to obedience school?"

The wolf sat before the mouth of a shadowy cavern with a glowing light that had to be the trident within it. But this wolf was no normal wolf, its eyes glowed red and its shaggy grey fur covered a thickly muscled body the size of a house. Worse still was its mouth filled with knife-like teeth that glinted in what little light there was.

"I doubt it," the Immortal dryly replied.

"Okay," Buffy pulled her head back in behind the slight hill heading towards the beast and their goal. "In that case we’ll try a flanking action," Buffy looked towards the other two Slayers, "you two come in from the left. We’ll take the right. On three. One, two, three."

Buffy’s blood began to pound with the familiar excitement of battle the moment she reached ‘three’. Leaping to her feet, she spun around to face the monster, drew her sword, and charged, dust kicking up as she ran.

Garm leapt up from his slumber, his gaping maw opening in a ground-shaking roar. His right leg flicked out at her, Buffy barely managed to duck under its huge paw before thrusting her blade up at the trunk-like limb.

Her strike sliced home, ripping a furrow in the creature’s lower thigh. Viscera spurted out, drenching her from head to foot. The creature howled in pain before bringing its leg inside to smash a paw into her lower back.

"Ahhh!" Buffy’s own world exploded in pain as Garm’s claws ripped through her clothes and raked her back, ripping her open. The force of the blow flung her to the ground, only Slayer instinct allowing her to hit it in a forward roll and spring back to her feet directly under the hulking beast’s body.

Ignoring the blood dripping down her back, Buffy dropped into a squat before leaping into the air, thighs powering her up the seven feet that separated her from the creature’s under-belly. The monster shuddered as her blade thrust into its stomach.

Buffy gasped as she crashed to the ground behind the hulking wolf. An idea flickered into her head. Leaping back to her feet, she bounded into the air, sword swinging at the beast’s rear hamstring.

"Awwwww!" The shaggy-furred beast threw back its head and roared, eyes wide with shock as her blade ripped into the thick muscle, blood fountaining out. Garm slumped onto its haunches, Buffy took the opportunity to leap onto the creature’s back and raced to its head, sword swinging to behead it.

The decapitated wolf crashed to the ground. A grin on her face, Buffy jumped off the monster and headed towards the trident just in from the cavern’s mouth.

"Buffy! Michelle’s dead!"

* * *

Angel drew his sword and bounded towards the squid. A clawed tentacle snapped out, catching Angel in the face. The force of the blow lifted him from his feet and flung him into the wall. Ignoring the jarring impact and the blood dripping down his face, Angel sprang up and bounded back into the attack.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Connor crumple under a hammer-blow to the head. Angel started towards his son as a spiked tentacle swung down at him. Angel smirked as Connor side-rolled away from the attack. "That’s my boy."

Turning his attention back to the battle, he charged towards the squid, ducking beneath a hammer-swing at his head while at the same time leaping over a pinchered tentacle. Upon landing, he sliced at a handed tentacle. "Oh crap!" he barely had time to register the blade bouncing off the rubbery-like tentacle before being grabbed around his ankle and flung to the ground, dust billowing up. The monster immediately slapped his sword out of his hand and began dragging him towards its mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his companions charging to his rescue. "Stay back." He endured the back-bumping drag across the ground. The moment he was in range, he reached into his jacket, pulled out a throwing dirk, uttered a quick prayer, and flung the knife deep into its golden eye. The monster roared in fury and then exploded like a water balloon hitting the ground, showering him with blood.

"How did you know that would work?" Connor asked.

"I didn’t," Angel tried and failed to clean the viscera off his body, "but I figured when it took time to knock my sword out of my hand, our weapons must be a threat to it. Therefore it had to have a weakness. That was my favourite jacket, I hate it when this happens," Angel complained as he rose. He smiled as he saw the trident standing behind where the squid had been. "Ach," he smirked. "I can always get new clothes." He paused for a second. "Although obviously not in this time period. Me and fur, ugh."

* * *

"Are you okay to lead us? Merlin said you took a heck of a bea-."

"I’m fine," Faith lied, waving off Kennedy’s concern as she peered into the torch-lit passageway that apparently led down into the bowels of the hill Camelot was built on and to their goal. In truth she felt like crap, not only had many of her bruises and cuts not healed, taking a beating like that or the one the Beast had so lovingly handed out shook her up emotionally, reminding her that despite her powers she was still mortal.

But she had a job to do.

After a nervous lick of the lips, she started towards the arched entrance. The path was floored by square tiles very comfortingly painted with what seemed to be demonic faces and lit by brush torches set in the grey stone wall every thirty paces. "Nice place to visit," Faith murmured as she continued on her way, "but I wouldn’t like to live here."

"I’m not even keen on visiting," Kennedy replied.

The path led remorselessly down. Kinda like her mood. "Damn," she muttered. "What’s this place greatest threat? Bore-." She gasped as she felt a tile move underfoot. "Back!" she yelled even as she ignored her own command and leapt forward, hitting the ground on her shoulder and rolling up to look behind her.

A six foot gap had opened up behind her, and peering down, she could see a pit filled with rusted but still dangerous looking spears embedded in the ground and pointed menacingly upwards. Glancing across, she was relieved to see all four of her companions had managed to leap back in time. "Come on over guys," she gestured.

The moment the last of the Slayers leapt over, Faith nodded. "Let’s rock ‘n’ roll." Reminding herself to pay attention in the future, she continued on.

The path suddenly veered upwards, Faith raised an eyebrow before starting up the path. Faith stopped, puzzled as she felt a wind brushing against her face, looking up, she saw a huge hole in the ceiling. "What the -."

"The rumbling," Bronwyn screamed, "there’s a rock coming down that hole."

"Good call, kid!" Faith yelled. "Run for it!" Faith rushed down the suddenly descending again path. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the others following, and a car-sized boulder rolling with increasing speed after them. Seeing a hairpin bend ahead, Faith dived around it, her friends crashing down on top of her just as the rock slammed into the unforgiving stone wall with shuddering impact and smashing into a dozen smaller but still large pieces. "Man," Faith groaned as she pulled herself to her feet, new bruises joining the others, "this place is a blast."

A few minutes later she drew level with a torch, heard a hiss and instinctively flung herself to the ground, flames spitting across the tunnel to scorch the wall opposite. Faith shuddered as she looked up; if she hadn’t moved, her head would have been burnt clean off her shoulders. "This is a regular house of fun."

Rising she continued on, her companions doggedly following. "Can you hear that?" Rona whispered.

"Hear what?" Faith asked even as she picked up a wheezing hiss around the next corner. "Oh yeah. Hate to think what that is, draw your weapons girls," she muttered, "time to go to work."

Faith charged around the corner, only to stumble at the massive, apparently ceiling-less chamber and the green-scaled dragon flapping in the air. "Oh crap!" Faith swallowed as the creature dive-bombed at them. "Scatter!" She dived to the ground just seconds before a burst of flame scorched the ground where they’d been stood. After a quick glance to reassure herself the others were okay, Faith let out a yell. "Keep its attention!" Noting the chamber wall’s long, intricately-woven tapestries, Faith decided to do something really, really stupid. Even dumber than dating Kenny Stringer in the 9^th grade.

The moment she reached the wall, Faith grabbed a hold of the tapestries and began half-climb, half-run up it until she was something like fifty feet in the air. She grinned as she saw Bronwyn leading the dragon in her direction, weaving in and out of its flame bursts, kid had a brain and a set on her. The moment the dragon was in range, Faith kicked off the wall and did a quadruple back-somersault onto its neck, hair snapping in the cold air.

"Jesus!" Faith yelled as the dragon’s head snapped around to face her, cold eyes impaling her with their primeval ferocity. "Just how many times did mom drop me on my fucking head anyhow? I must be fucking nuts!"

The dragon’s head darted towards her, Faith leaned away from the attack, the creature’s sulphurous breath almost causing to her pass out. "Hey lover?" Faith snapped. "Breath mints, look into them!" Raising her blade high above her head, Faith swung it down into the monster’s long neck. Blood vomited out of the wound, showering her. The dragon’s head snapped back, mouth opening in a pained scream. Faith took the opportunity to yank her weapon out of the demon’s now copper-coated neck and thrust it deep into the bottom of the monster’s mouth. "Think you’re a bad ass?" she taunted as she twisted the sword. "You ain’t shit."

"Gaaaaaa!" the dragon’s scream pounded in her ears. The creature dropped like a stone, crashing to the ground. Instantly her companions were on it, hacking the winged lizard to pieces, its blood soon slicking the ground.

"Good work," Faith acknowledged as she climbed off the dying lizard before heading towards the trident. "Hey kid," Faith winked at Bronwyn as she wrapped her hand around the trident, "you don’t need any advice from me, you do fine on your own."

* * *

Heart thumping, Buffy swung around. She shook her head in pained disbelief at the sight of Michelle’s broken body, the formerly elegant Slayer twisted and broken, her blood staining the ground. "Nooooo," she whispered, head still shaking and the first of many tears rolling down her cheeks. After a second, she started towards her companions crouched around the corpse.

"A worthy warrior indeed. Othin will be pleased."

Buffy spun around at the husky voice behind her. A pony-tailed blonde wearing a twin-horned helm and steel-scaled, knee-length hauberk, carrying a round steel shield and spear was there, sat upon a horse-sized, shaggy-haired wolf. "Who are you?" Buffy demanded

"S….she’s a Valkyrie," the Immortal gasped. Buffy glanced over her shoulder for clarification. "The Valkyrie are dsir, minor female deities who serve Odin. Their purpose is to choose the most heroic warriors and to take them to Valhalla so that Odin has an army of heroes to fight at his side at Ragnarok."

Buffy only understood half of what her boy-friend had said, but she knew one thing. This Valkyrie wasn’t taking Michelle. Planting her feet, she put herself securely into the Valkyrie’s path and raised her sword. "Listen missy," she grated, "you are not taking my friend."

The Valkyrie smiled. "Your loyalty is touching, but foolish. You cannot stop Sigrdrifa."

"Yeah?" Buffy grasped her sword ever tighter. "Let’s see about this."

"Very well." The Valkyrie’s smile widened. The Valkyrie stepped towards her. Buffy swung her sword at the Valkyrie’s neck, the blade slid through the creature and came out the other side, like slicing through a ghost. "Just as we have no claim over the living," Sigrdrifa stopped by Michelle’s corpse and placed a hand over her, "so they have no claim over us." Buffy gasped as the two were enveloped in a golden light and disappeared.

For a long time she stared at where the two had been. Then she heard the Immortal’s whisper in her ear. "She’s gone my dear, we need to go home."

After a second she nodded and reached for the trident.

* * *

Heath Private Airport, Sussex, 2 days later

Faith beamed as she saw a tarpaulin-covered figure rushing across the airfield and towards the tiny office they’d commandeered upon their arrival. "Angel’s here!"

"Great," Kennedy grunted. "Be still my beating heart."

Faith ignored her friend’s unenthusiastic reply to leap to her feet and hurry down the narrow stairwell leading to the front door and flung it open. "Hey Fang!"

"Faith!" The vampire grinned briefly before reverting to his customary deadpan expression. "Any sign of Buffy, yet?"

Faith smirked as she shook her head. "Ya know B. Likes to keep people waiting. Bring me back any holiday snaps? ‘Specially any of you in speedos?"

Faith yawned as she glanced at her watch. Four hours had passed since Angel’s team’s arrival and seven since her group had arrived in the early morning. Now it was getting towards mid-afternoon and still no Buffy.

Suddenly Angel’s head snapped up, somehow looking through the dirty brown ceiling, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "A plane’s coming in for landing, it’s Buffy."

"Cool." Faith nodded, knowing that no other aircraft could be landing at the airfield as the airfield was owned and exclusively used by the Council. "Then we get back to the Council and work out what the hell to do with these Tridents." She just wondered who of her friends were still alive.

Five minutes later and a canary-yellow six-seater came in for landing. The door flew open and Buffy’s team began to disembark. And then a shot rang out and Buffy’s head disappeared in a bloody mist.

"Buffy’s dead," Faith looked around the hushed room as she gave her report. "It was a sniper, Angel caught him," Faith paused, not even wanting to think about the mess her enraged idol had made of the sharpshooter, "just a hired gun, nothing supernatural about him."

"Then we’ve lost." It was a pale-faced Giles who broke the silence that followed her report.

"W…we’ve got the tridents," a teary-eyed Willow weakly protested. "There must be something -."

"Don’t you understand?" Even she jumped at Giles’ sudden roar. "It was ordained that only the three champions – Buffy, Faith, and Angel could wield the tridents. Without them we’re doomed!"

* * *

Satan supped at his wine, watching the scene unfolding before him with barely uncontrollable glee. "Game, set, and match to me, I think." He’d particularly enjoy the vampire, the only escapee ever from his realm, and the raven-haired Slayer, such delicious guilt.

"I would beg to differ."

Eyes widening, he spun to face the figure, a grey-bearded man with kindly eyes and dressed in an executive suit that completely failed to conceal his chubby body. "You’d dare to come here!" he hissed, outrage burning through every bone as he rose from his seat. "Why I’ll-."

"Oh please," his most unwelcome guest chuckled. "Not on my worst day and your best, why don’t you sit back down?"

Legs rubbery from shock, he obeyed. "Ha," he forced a laugh. "You’ve lost your battle. I will take your most blessed, prized possession and tear through it, make it my new home."

"Will you indeed?" his guest’s eyes hardened to something more unyielding than steel. "Perhaps I will not allow it."

"The balance -."

"I created the universe’s balance," the intruder responded, his tone as equable. "I can change it."

"My legions-."

"Your legions are numerous, but so are mine, vastly out-numbering yours. I will fight you for earth."

Satan forced another laugh. "In such a battle, earth will be devastated."

"Yes," his guest nodded, "and so will your army and your power over them. The question you have to ask yourself what you prize more – your vengeance or your power."

"You threw me out!" he raged.

"I’ve no time for your childish tantrums," the interloper calmly responded. "Do you wish to hear my proposal?" Too angry to speak, Satan simply nodded. "The prophecy calls for three champions. I will call a substitute out of those in," his guest nodded towards the scene Satan had previously been watching with such relish, "that room. Then we will let events play out as they will. My champions against whatever forces you call to bear."

Satan licked his lips, mulling over his guest’s words. Finally he shook his head. "That is unacceptable," he paused a second before continuing, "but perhaps if you chose a replacement from Summers’ original three companions."

For the briefest second, his former ruler looked uncertain. Then he nodded. "Very well, but first I feel I should ask for advice." Satan opened his mouth to protest when his guest clicked his fingers and a portal of light appeared in the wall opposite. Satan clamped his mouth shut. What was the use?

In seconds, a statuesque brunette clad in a knee-length, figure-hugging hauberk had walked through the portal and into his domain, stopping just inside the entrance. The brunette sniffed and shook her head. "Um, I know you’re just the lord of the Underworld and haven’t got much to work with, but have you ever heard of interior decorating? A lick of paint on the walls, a few rugs on the floor, you could do something!"

Satan gritted his teeth as his rage grew. "Who is she?"

The bearded man smiled beatifically. "My newest warrior angel, the first in a generation. Miss Cordelia Chase."

Satan’s dark mood got even blacker. "I’ve heard of her."

The admittedly beautiful brunette smirked. "Of course you have."

"Cordelia," the bearded man looked like he was having the time of his very long life, "I wish you to pick a champion out of Miss. Rosenberg, Mr. Giles, and Mr. Harris."

"Um," Cordelia looked briefly thoughtful and then broke out into a brilliant smile, "that’s easy. Doofus might not have Giles’ smarts or Rosenberg’s mojo, but he’s got the heart. Xander all the way."

The bearded man stared at the warrior angel. "You’re sure?" The brunette beauty nodded. "Then," his unwelcome guest pointed towards the scene, "go and tell him."

"Oh, I can’t wait for this."

The moment the enticing beauty had disappeared; Satan turned his gaze back to his former master. "I trust this concludes our business?" he seethed. "That you can go now?"

His guest chuckled. "You know how to make one feel welcome, Lucy." A flash of light enveloped the bearded figure. "Farewell my son, remember I forgive you your trespasses even if you will not."

Satan stared balefully at the spot where the interloper had been stood. "Sanctimonious bastard!"

* * *

Xander stared around the room through red, puffy eyes, his already hollow stomach tightening as he realised something indefinable had happened. He was half out of his seat when he heard a familiar and surprising voice behind him. "Not loving the pirate look, Zeppo."

Heart thundering, Xander spun around to face the speaker. "H…how?"

The beauty shot him a radiant smile. "The big guy upstairs made me an angel."

"The selection process must be really lax," Xander muttered.

"Doofus," the former cheerleader retorted.

Xander’s mouth opened in an insult and then closed. There were more important things to discuss. "Why are you here?"

All at once the curvy beauty’s face sobered. "A new champion had to be chosen to help Angel," Cordelia sighed fondly, "and Faith," the cheerleader scowled, "represent earth. You were chosen."

"Me? You’ve got to be kidding!" Xander exploded. "There’s Connor, Groo, Kennedy, and Willow, and I was chosen! Which idiot’s idea was that?"

"Mine." Xander clamped his mouth shut. Much as he’d grown to love Cordelia, he’d never learnt to talk to her. "I was given a choice, you, Willow, or Giles. Not much of a choice but I chose you."

"Why?" Xander managed to gasp.

"When I died," Cordelia smiled sadly. "I was able to see everything that happened in your life. I saw you force Angel to help you in the Master’s tunnels. I saw you stop Angelus outside Buffy’s hospital room. I saw you stop the zombies. I saw you save the world from Willow. I saw you sacrifice yourself to save Kennedy. You’ve made your mistakes, but there’s no Ripper or Dark Willow in your past, you were the best, the only choice."

"But-."

"No buts," Cordelia scolded. "I thought you’d learnt years ago not to argue with me when I’m in this mood." The cheerleader glanced towards Angel. "And if anyone doubts I came here. If anyone has any doubts tell Giles that you know Ethan Rayne was the one who named him Ripper and tell Angel he’s welcome for the tip on the Black Thorn and that I love him." Xander gaped at his ex. Before he had chance to comment she’d disappeared.

He looked around to see everyone was now out of their trance and busy arguing, oblivious to what had just happening. Swallowing his self-doubt, Xander spoke up. "I have a solution." When no-one appeared to take any notice, he tried again, raising his voice to a bellow. "I HAVE A SOLUTION!"

Everyone’s head snapped towards him. "Apparently I’ve been selected to represent our side as the third trident bearer," he shrugged at the room’s collective gasp. "Hey, it wasn’t my idea, blame Cordelia."

"Cordelia!" Angel and Connor reached their feet at roughly the same instant.

"Apparently she’s an angel now," Xander hurried on before anyone could speak. "Yeah, not my first choice either. But apparently she knew that Ethan was the one who named you ‘Ripper’," he looked from the open-mouthed Council head to the ensoulled vampire, "and she said to say you’re welcome for the tip on the Black Thorn." There was no way he was telling Deadboy the second titbit.

Giles’ mouth opened and shut. "W…why you?"

"Don’t know, didn’t ask," Xander lied. There was no need for anyone else to know Cordelia’s reasoning, any explanation from him would only sound like boasting anyway. "The question is what do we do next?"

"Quite," Giles shook himself. "The Deeper Well, everything’s happening at the Deeper Well." The Watcher nodded. "We’ll have to stop Satan’s forces getting to our trio of champions before they secure the Deeper Well. We’ll split the Slayers into three units. Kennedy, Groo, and Connor you’ll have joint control of Alpha unit on the right flank, Rona, Vi, and Colleen, you’ll have joint control of Beta unit on the left flank, I’ll take control of Charlie unit at the point. Riley, I want you and Willow in command of a reserve at the very mouth of the Deeper Well, reinforced with all of our mortal troops."

"I’ve got a spell I want to research beforehand, a big one," Willow commented.

"Fine," Giles nodded. "I suggest everyone get as much rest as possible. We will have a hard night tonight." Giles looked around, eyes suddenly sad. "I’m sure some of us won’t return. I’d just like to say it’s been an honour and a pleasure to know each and every one of you. I’ll give you all your assignments before leaving tonight."

* * *

Faith licked her lips as she stared at the door before her. She raised a hand to knock on the door then stopped when she realised knocking would only give the room’s occupant opportunity to tell her to get bent. After a count of three, she shoved the door open and walked in. "Hey, X, you about?"

The one-eyed man stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and all his lovely torso muscles displayed. "Faith, good to see your manners are just the same as ever."

Resisting an urge to lick her lips for quite a different reason than just before, she spoke again. "Congrats with being chosen for this, Cor couldn’t have made a better choice, I know how ballsy you are-."

"Faith is this going anywhere?" the distinctly unfriendly-looking Californian snapped. "Only I want to go to bed before we set out on this little jaunt tonight. Alone."

Faith ignored both the man’s tone and implied insult. Plenty of men had said a lot worse to her with a lot less cause. "I was just gonna say I’ll have your back in this fight no matter what."

"Great," Xander looked less than unimpressed. "Look Faith, I’m not here to bond with you. I’m here to complete this mission and then leave."

Faith resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Not this bullshit again, she had to swallow X’s contempt because she’d earned it but this leaving crap was just gonna hurt him. "In case you ain’t noticed B’s just died. Red, G, and Pip will need you more than ever now-."

"They haven’t needed me for years." Xander shook his head. "And if I wanted someone’s advice which I don’t, I wouldn’t ask you. You know where the door is, use it."

"Might I ask why you’re still here?"

Ethan turned from his window over-looking the Slayers training, such delightful fillies, to the man stood in the doorway. Why Ripper, he thought with a delicious thrill of fear, you know just how to deliver a threat within a velvet glove, all polite words, but an underlying tone that just promised danger and pain.

Face held carefully neutral, he shrugged. "Why, Ripper what do you mean?"

"The Witchguard are an irrelevance at this moment in time, if they’re brave enough to stick their heads over the parapets, they’d only have someone chop them of. That said, shouldn’t you be off gleefully buggering someone’s life up?"

Well if that didn’t hurt, nothing would. "Perhaps I like it here," he suggested.

A glint entered Ripper’s eyes that reminded him of the rough-housing thug his friend had once been. "I’ll make it plain then," Ethan backed off as the man advanced. "Willow’s off-limits, I won’t have you using her power in one of your games. The same with Faith, she’s had her problems, but she’s a fine young woman, I won’t have you tainting her. Xander, Dawn, I won’t stand for you trying to corrupt them. And if you’ve any thoughts of thoughts of sabotaging our efforts here, lose them."

On balance Ethan was heartily relieved that his bladder didn’t loosen on the spot. "Sabotaging your efforts?" Ethan forced a laugh. "I’m an anarchist not a bloody end-of-worlder! I’m staying to help in what way I can." Ripper stared disbelievingly at him. "Look at it this way old bean," he continued, "if the world ends, there won’t exactly be much chance for mischief for me, will there?"

"Between you helping me with Whydham-Pryce and now staying," Giles shook his head, "I’ll never understand you!"

Ethan watched as his fellow countryman left the room. It wasn’t hard to understand at all. It was simply because the man he’d secretly loved for thirty years was here. He could no more leave Ripper in his direst hour than he could walk on water.

* * *

Giles took a breath as he reached the entrance to The Deeper Well. It looked for all the world like an ordinary albeit very large oak tree, but there was aura of power surrounding the tree that threatened to bring one to his knees. He turned at a chuckle to his left. "Ethan?"

The chaos mage smirked. "I was just thinking I pity the lumberjack who tries to cut this tree down."

Giles shook his head, a wry smile tugging unwillingly at his lips. Vintage irreverent Ethan.

"How are we going to do this, Giles?"

Giles glanced to an all-business looking Xander. "You, Faith, and Angel are the important ones here-."

"Speak for your bloody self."

He ignored Ethan’s mutter to continue. "The rest of us are going to do our very best to buy you the time you need." He looked around the group, thankful for the clearing around the tree. "You know your positions, take them. Willow, get on with whatever spell you’re planning, I hope it’s a good one."

"Oh," Willow nodded. "It is."

He looked towards Xander, Faith, and Angel. "Go with god."

"You know," Xander chuckled darkly, "if I’m who the fate of the world rests on, kinda thinking god’s sitting this one out."

"Optimistic blighter aren’t you?" Ethan snarked.

* * *

Angel bit back a groan at the thudding footsteps following him down the steps and into The Deeper Well. Faith was stealthy enough, but Xander had all the elegant grace of a drunken hippo.

No, that was unfair, although Angel wasn’t entirely sure if it was unfair to Harris or the hippo. The Californian had been forced into this position by powers far beyond any of their comprehension much less control, but had stayed when plenty of men popularly considered heroes would have turned and run. Not that the youth wasn’t feeling the pressure, Angel could hear the youth’s drumming heart and smell the sweat forming under the youth’s clothes. But he was here, and trying his best, that was the important thing, and Angel could cut him some slack for that.

"Whoa." The whispered exclamation came not from Xander but from Faith, the sultry beauty staring wide-eyed around the entrance hall, a circular room standing before a narrow bridge over an unsettlingly deep chasm. The bridge was itself completely encircled by a sweeping wall containing a seemingly countless number of stone tombs enclosed in open-ended enclosures. "This is not of the good."

"If we do our job we won’t have to worry about them," Angel encouraged. "And the only way to do our job is to get these tridents into position, the quicker the better."

"Damn," Faith shot him a disgusted look, "you must be hell on Connor with his chores."

* * *

Every minute stationed outside the tree took an eternity to pass, and yet at the same time passed all too quickly. "Oh bloody hell," Ethan groaned from his position to Giles’ left.

Giles looked left and right, the inky darkness surrounding them feeling somehow different. "You felt that too?"

And then suddenly they were there. The Nightbreed Legions, The Glorious Fallen, and all the other too foul to be spoken names that basically meant Satan’s forces and mankind’s doom.

Fellhounds, huge snarling dogs with curved horns jutting out of their foreheads and the size of ponies, a single bite from the fang-filled mouth meaning death. Orcs, their piggish eyes burning with hatred and their thickly muscled limbs gripping a variety of melee weapons. Hellboars, red-maned boar-like beasts with jagged spikes protruding from their backs and curved tusks erupting from their wide mouths. Shadow-Stalkers, winged vampires who could drain a human with either their teeth or their claws, and could only be killed by decapitation. Malarks, ten foot giants made of living stone. Six-Steppers, spiders the size of small dogs, a cut from their pincers killing anyone before they’d taken six steps. Hornaks, seven foot tall humanoid creatures with green-scales covering their thickly-muscled physiques and lizard-heads. Ethereal Warlocks, black clouds that could whisper horrors to quail the bravest heart. Beastmen, their cloven hoofs stamping on the ground as their gnarled knuckles likewise scraped the grass, their bestial faces staring hungrily at their prey.

Demons stretching as far as the eye could see. And this wouldn’t be even a hundredth of the forces Satan could call upon.

"Giles?" He heard Riley’s shaky voice in his ear-piece. "Should I?"

"Do it!" Giles snapped.

The ground shook and the black sky briefly illuminated as Riley triggered the explosions he’d spent the first few hours since they’d arrived setting up. Dismembered demons flew up into the air before crashing back down, the air filling with the stench of death and a blood-red mist as hundreds of them died.

But just as soon as they fell, others moved seamlessly into their place.

* * *

Angel glared at first Faith and then a chuckling Xander. Kids, he shook his head, he was trying to save the world with kids. "Just get a move on."

"Say pops," Faith bumped a hip into his hip, "will you spank my ass if I don’t?"

"Scary mental image," Xander scoffed as he joined them walking across the uncomfortably narrow bridge.

"My ass ain’t scary," Faith protested. "Sinful, hot, pert, curvy, sexy, but it ain’t scary."

"Thought of Angel spanking it is," Xander replied.

Angel stopped, his companions continuing on past him, as he felt something indefinable yet wrong in the air. He looked left and right, eyes narrowing. "Oh hell!" Leaping forward, he shoved his hands into Xander and Faith’s backs, knocking the protesting couple to the ground, just as a huge several hundred foot long stone pendulum swung across the chasm with enough force to fling them from the bridge had they been stood in its path.

"Thanks Deadboy," Xander gasped as he started to rise, "only next time, cut down on the drama-."

"Stay down!" Snatching a hold of Xander’s ankle, Angel yanked him back down to the ground just as another pendulum swung the length of the bridge and through where the young man had been standing. "When I say go, go!" Faith’s affirmative grunt and Xander’s pale-faced nod were the only signs that his companions had heard. "GO!"

Snatching a hold of the young man’s collar, he yanked his companion to his feet and charged through the far exit and around the corner just as the pendulum swung back, the gust of air that accompanied its passing almost enough to take them off their feet.

* * *

"I’d say we’re buggered," Ethan muttered.

"We are rather out-numbered," Giles admitted.

"Then it’s lucky I brought some reinforcements."

Giles turned, speculating at what spell could create the strain he heard in Willow’s voice. Then he saw and promptly wondered if there was time to change his laundry before the battle began.

The forces he’d gathered had parted to make way for the newcomers. And no wonder, for the Slayers in particular their presence must be an uncomfortable reminder of what was to come. All the newcomers were girls, Slayers if he missed his guess, but not live girls, everyone of them – and there were a multitude of cultures and times represented before him to judge from their varying dress, had a terrible wound, a fatal sort of injury. Add to that their deathly pallor, and Giles could come to only one bone-chilling conclusion. Willow had somehow resurrected the slain Slayers.

"Buffy?" he whispered as he looked over them and failed to see her.

Willow shook her head. "The spell," her voice was a whisper, her face taut with tension, "the spell would only work on those who died before the mass Calling, something to do with them being slightly different Slayers." The witch’s weary smile carried with it a lifetime of pain. "I had to play the numbers."

"Right," he swallowed again. "How many?"

"There are," his heart almost stopped as a very familiar figure stepped out of the crowd, breaking the unearthly silence that had surrounded them, "three thousand, six hundred and seventy-two of us."

"K…Kendra," he felt tears form in his eyes, "I..I’m sorry you died."

"I’m a Slayer Mr. Giles," the dusky-skinned beauty replied, the ugly scar across her throat testament to the fact, "it’s what we do." The Caribbean Slayer looked towards the snarling hordes. "’Tis time we did something about them."

Giles gasped as the resurrected Slayers tore into the demons, gliding into action with a deadly grace that was matched only with the terribleness of the monsters’ charge to intercept them. Dismembered limbs flew mesmerisingly into the dark night sky, blood showering the Slayers as they went about their carnage, six or seven demons falling for every Slayer.

But fall they did. And as quickly as the demons died they were replaced, their reserves seemingly limitless. All too quickly the last of the revived Slayers fell.

Ignoring the groan that seemed to run through their ranks, Giles opened his leather overcoat and passed a shotgun over to his companion. "I trust you remember how to shoot?"

"Clay pigeon shooting old boy," Ethan looked ashen grey. "One never forgets that!"

"Then make every shot count!" he roared. Even as he spoke Giles knew that no matter what there was no way they could win this battle on their own, they were simply fighting a holding battle. It was down to Xander and the others. "You can do it son," he muttered.

* * *

Angel looked left and right, skin prickling uneasily as they continued down the rush-torch lit tunnel that led deeper into The Deeper Well’s defences. "There’s something-," his eyes widened as the wall to their left began to move, "run!"

"Shit!" Faith was off like a hare, long hair whipping from side to side as she sprinted with an effortlessness that any Olympic runner would envy. Xander was less fortunate, the wide-eyed kid stumbling.

Angel grabbed the youth’s elbow, steadying him. Xander’s brown orbs stared at him. "Thanks-."

"Don’t thank me!" he yelled. "Run!"

"Yeah!" The youth’s pants echoed in his ears but they managed to make it through the 100 metre dash a half-second before the two walls crashed together.

"Jesus, X," Faith scowled at Harris. "You don’t make things easy-."

"Hey!" the Sunnydaler snapped, not backing an inch before the sultry Bostonian. "Not super-powered! This wasn’t supposed to be my gig!"

"That’s not the problem and you know it!" Faith snapped back. "If you took your head out of your ass and just believed in yourself for a minute-."

"We don’t have time for this." Shaking his head, Angel stepped between the bickering duo. "Can you hear that?" Angel looked up to where the sound was coming from. His eyes widened as he saw a boulder rolling down the wall that had just moved. "Run!"

Xander threw his hands up before turning and starting down the path. "Again!"

* * *

Blast after blast went into the demons’ massed ranks, putting down demon after demon. Still the monsters didn’t stop or even falter in their advance, the dread of their master greater than the fear of the carnage being wrecked upon them.

"Bugger!" Giles yelled as his Mossberg 590 clicked empty. Throwing it down to the ground in disgust, he drew his longsword. Eyes fixed on the swarming mob facing them, he shouted to his companion. "How many rounds left, Ethan!"

"Last round now old bean!" Ethan flung his shotgun down. "I’d wager the lasses are out too."

"Indeed," Giles spoke rather than shouted as an uneasy quiet fell. "It would appear so."

For an instance the monsters stared at them before charging.

* * *

Xander groaned as he joined the others in turning the corner, his legs buckling under him at the last, hitting the ground on his shoulder. He lay there for a second, gasping as the massive boulder crashed into the end of the corridor behind them.

"It’s alright, Xander," Angel eased him to his feet. "You managed it."

"Yeah," Xander leaned against the wall, chest still heaving, "just about."

"We getting this done or what?" Faith impatiently butted in.

It was on the tip of Xander’s tongue to ask for a rest, but remembering the others fighting on the surface, he straightened. "Let’s go."

Angel shot him a concerned look before slowly nodding. "Okay, this way."

"Gee, Sherlock, its like a tunnel, a tunnel with one route," Faith snarked.

* * *

Giles shuddered as the sixty or so yards still separating them from the monster army erupted in a circle of fire. Giles turned his head away from the blazing fire, the wall of heat causing sweat to bead down his forehead, the stench of burning flesh and the demons’ screams almost unbearable.

"Your Wicca?" Ethan guessed.

"A secret weapon of mine," Giles shook his head. "Since I discovered the Devon Coven massacred, I’ve been finding as many witches and warlocks as possible." Giles chuckled humourlessly. "You can call them our weapons of mass destruction. The difference being they actually exist."

"You always were a crafty bugger." Ethan groaned as the fire disappeared. "Any more surprises?"

"I’m afraid not," Giles raised his sword.

"Ah, Ripper, you lead a lad on. Giving him hope like that."

* * *

Faith’s ears filled with Xander’s panting. Looking behind her, she saw the sweat-soaked Sunnydaler stumbling behind them. "Damn it," Faith muttered. She felt wicked bad about the way she’d spoken to him before; it wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t have been here in the first place; this wasn’t a place for him. What the hell had Queen C been thinking picking him? Ken or Conn would have been way smarter choices. Faith smiled wryly, but no-one ever said C was smart.

Faith slowed down until he was level with her. "Hey Xan, about before-."

"Yeah I know," Xander rocked her with the intensity of his glare, "I’m a handicap, I get it." The man’s gasps increased as he forced extra pace from his legs, pulling away from her.

"X!" Faith shook her head. Damn fool man. Whatever Willow had done she’d done with the best of intentions, but it had sure messed with X’s self-esteem. Sorta like that self-fulfilling prophecy thing they’d talked about in group therapy back in Stockton. Treat someone like they’re useless, a thug, a slut whatever, and eventually they’ll start to act like it. She remembered how Xand had once tried to help her and decided right there and then she was getting a new Watcher whether he liked it or not.

"Wait." She looked ahead to see Angel had come to a halt. "There’s a pit here."

Faith stopped at the edge and peered down into a spike-filled trench. "Wouldn’t wanna land on those beauties," she caustically commented before looking to the other side and grinning. "Only six feet across, no problem for any of us."

"Yeah," Angel nodded. "It looks easy. Too easy." The vampire looked at both of them in turn. "Don’t come until I say."

"Yes sir!" Xander mockingly saluted the vampire.

"I’m serious, Xander," Angel scowled at the Sunnydaler before bending his knees and leaping across the pit.

And disappearing from view.

* * *

Sweat dripped into his eyes and his arms burnt with the effort of swinging his heavy blade. "Not as fit as I used to be," Ethan chuckled hoarsely. It seemed as if the battle had been joined for hours but in reality it had only been a few minutes. A few hell-filled minutes crammed with terror and the screams of the dead and dying. "A bloody idiot you are, Ethan," he muttered. "I could be chatting up a barsmaid here, preparing myself a last good night, but instead I’m here."

His eyes widened as he saw his friend, god Ripper hadn’t been this fearsome in their halcyon youth, fall to the ground under a blow from a Hornak, blood seeping from his brow. The Hornak threw back his head and howled, the sound lost in the battle’s bedlam. Then the monster raised his crimson slicked blade.

"Nooo!" Desperation surging through him, Ethan shoved aside weariness to hurdle over a Slayer’s crumpled corpse to leap between Giles and the down-swinging blade. He screamed as the longsword sliced through his left shoulder. He had the briefest glimpse of the blood spurting out of his shoulder wound and then the blade ripped through him to his heart. And then nothing.

* * *

"What the!" Angel’s eyes widened as the ground he was about to land on disappeared from under him, silver spikes suddenly glinting dangerously up at him. Twisting in mid-air, he desperately grabbed for the path he’d been stood on.

"FANG!"

He heard Faith’s terrified scream even as his fingers landed on the outcropping. Grimacing with the effort he swung back onto path, hitting the reassuringly hard stone on his shoulder, rolling up to his feet, and turning to face Faith and Xander. "You can walk to here, the pit’s an illusion. The real pit is behind me."

"Are you sure?" Xander demanded.

Always the sceptic. "I’m standing here aren’t I?" Angel retorted.

After a second, Xander nodded. "Fair enough."

Once the others had traversed the obstacle, they continued doggedly on until they came to six feet wide two pits filled with more silver spikes but separated by a three foot ledge in-between. "T-R-A-P." Xander shrugged when both he and Faith turned to him. "Thought I’d spell it out in case you were wondering."

"Really wasn’t," Faith took her watch off and threw it at the first pit. "Fuck!" The sultry Bostonian cursed when the timepiece disappeared into the spike-filled trench. "That cost me forty bucks!"

"You could go in after it." Xander raised his hands at the brunette beauty’s glare. "No need for the dagger eyes, you could just say no."

Angel felt the beginnings of a throbbing headache. He’d never babysat, but judging from his two ‘children’ whatever baby-sitters got it wasn’t enough. "I’ll jump to the middle, we’ll work things out from there."

"What if the middle’s the trap?" Faith asked.

"I’m the most durable of all three of us," Angel said. "Wait here." Before Faith had a chance to argue, because he was certain she would, Angel bent his knees and leapt onto the middle. "Whoa!" Angel’s left and then right foot slid on impact. "It’s oil underfoot."

"Ah hell!" Faith exclaimed. "They wanted people to jump into the middle and either slip back into the first trap or slide right into the second!"

"That’d be my guess," Angel agreed. "Faith, you take a run-up and jump, it’s only 20 – 22 feet in total."

"Five by five," the brunette nodded before trotting back eight feet, dropping into a sprinter’s crouch, one hand braced against the stone. A half-second later and she exploded like a gazelle, hair swinging as she blurred to the edge of the pit and leapt. Faith’s flight was a thing of beauty, like watching Carl Lewis at his very best. Except Carl never landed on his feet, knees crouched, after jumping twenty plus feet and turned and winked at his audience. "Wicked buzz."

"Okay," Angel turned back to Xander stood nervously waiting, "you jump across to me, I’ll catch you."

"You are winding me up!" Xander stared at him.

"Don’t be shy," he needled. "I promise not to hold you too tight."

"Not funny," Xander shook his head before stepping back perhaps ten feet and charging towards the hole. As he reached the edge, Xander pushed off. The Sunnydaler’s flight was a good deal less graceful than the Slayer’s but did the job it was meant to, carrying him to a landing in Angel’s waiting arms.

"Xander," Angel smiled at the youth, "have you been putting on weight?"

"Funny Captain HairGel," Xander scowled. "How am I going to get across if I can’t take a run-up?"

"I’m going to have to throw you," Angel smiled.

"What-, Deadboy!" Xander let out a wail as Angel picked him up by the collar and flung him across the pit.

Angel smiled. "I can die happy now."

After he’d leapt across, he joined the others in continuing their journey until they reached a wide cavern, his amusement dying at the creature stood snarling there.

The demon dominating the cavern was huge, perhaps nine feet tall but with enough muscle packed onto its broad frame to somehow make it seem squat. Its face was a thing of nightmares, red eyes colder than ice were set deep in a face that reminded Faith of the ubers they’d fought back in Sunnyd, but none of them had a pair of ram’s horns sticking out of the top of their heads like this thing did. "Fuck," she muttered, an icy finger crawling up her back, "he’s so ugly even I’d turn him down!"

"What is he?" Xander whispered.

"Il Hemo Rex." Faith glanced towards Angel. She was shocked to see her hero actually looked scared, an expression she’d never seen on his face before. Angel shook himself and glanced towards first her and then Xander. "The Blood King, the demon whose bite to a human created the first uber."

"How do you know that?" Xander whispered.

"I don’t know," Angel shrugged. "Never even heard of him before, but as soon as I saw him my demon knew."

"Your demon’s talking to you?" Xander shuddered. "So comforting."

"See those three three-pronged holes in the wall behind Godzilla?" Faith pointed behind the prowling growling monster.

"I’d rather fight Godzilla," Xander muttered.

Faith ignored that accurate assessment of their current screw-up. "We must have to put the tridents in there to close the breach between our dimension and theirs."

"In that case," Xander licked his lips. "You two give me your tridents and I’ll get them in."

Angel’s gaze snapped to the Sunnydaler. "You can’t be serious!"

"Hey, if you think I can do a better job than you and Faith fighting Goliath, let’s hear it," the one-eyed man responded. "You two keep him off my back while I get rid of the tridents, after that, we run for it, it won’t be able to follow us into the tunnels, it’s too big."

Faith grimaced before coming to a decision. "Fine," she threw her trident to Xander. She looked towards Angel. "Unless you’ve got a better idea."

Finally Angel sighed and shook his head. "Using Xander’s ideas, how low can I sink?"

"Hey!" Xander protested as he caught Angel’s trident.

* * *

Giles gasped as Ethan’s blood spewed all over him, his friend\rival’s screams echoing in his ears as his corpse fell on him. Giles bared his teeth at the monstrous demon looming over him, helpless to do anything but await the killing blow.

And then a black-haired blur was between him and the demon, and a pair of gentle yet firm hands pulling him out from under his friend’s corpse. He glanced up to recognise the potential now Slayer scarred by Caleb so long ago. "Shannon," he gasped.

"Yes sir!" The Slayer pressed his broadsword back in his hand. "Kennedy says you’re to stay with Caridad, Colleen, Chao-Ann, and I, sir, we can’t afford to lose you."

"Bloody girls," Giles muttered, eyes tearing at their fierce loyalty. He growled as his attention returned to the rampaging army encircling them. These buggers thought they could hurt his girls?

Not if he had a damn thing to say about it. Not a bloody word.

* * *

"Go!"

Faith and Angel surged forwards at Xander’s shout. Angel grunted as the demon caught him with a foot to the face, the blow flinging him back down the tunnel they’d just come from. Faith shook her head, typical man, running out on her. "Hey big guy," she blew the demon a kiss, "wanna piece of this?" The demon roared before charging her, flinging a haymaker that would have decapitated her if she hadn’t ducked under it. "Guess that’s a yes then!" Leaping forward, she connected with a heel to the knee. "Shit!" she leapt back when pain flared through her leg at the impact. "This is not going -, ugh!"

The demon snatched hold of her by the throat and flung her into the wall while simultaneously swinging around to backhand Xander to the ground. Things were not going well.

Faith struggled to her feet as the massive demon charged her. At the last second she darted to the demon’s right, teeth gritted as she side-kicked the apparently armoured demon in the gut. Pain flared through her scalp when the monster snatched hold of her swinging hair and flung her to the ground. Faith rolled out of the way of a stomp to the face but was unable to avoid a rib-cracking kick to the stomach. Faith was helpless to do anything other than roll in a ball as the monster advanced on her.

"Lying down on the job, Faith?" Suddenly Angel was on the monster’s back, one arm wrapped around the demon’s tree-trunk thick neck while the other smashed punch after punch into its face.

"Says you," Faith spat out blood before pulling herself up in time to dive back down when the mammoth demon managed to fling Angel from its back, the vampire bouncing off the wall behind her.

"Shit," she was only back to her hands and knees when the demon grabbed her by the back of her neck, its grip as hard and cold as stone, lifted her back to her feet, and flung her face-first at the wall. Faith managed to hit it feet-first and ran up it, leaping off to somersault into a drop-kick that crashed into the demon’s vault-sized chest, knocking it back a step or two. Faith landed in a crouch beside the beast, she grinned briefly as she saw Xander crawling towards the far wall, blood leaking from his forehead. Damn he was tough.

"Christ!" Her smirk turned to a scream when the demon’s fist smashed into her shoulder, knocking her to her knees. Before she could recover her footing, the demon was on her, his heavy fists slamming into her back again and again, pounding her into the ground.

Faith screamed as she rolled onto her side and kicked out blindly, hoping to gain some respite from the brutality. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Angel follow her earlier move and crash a dropkick into the behemoth’s chest. The vampire landed between her and the monster. "Faith?"

Faith smiled at the concern in her hero’s voice even as she struggled to her feet. "Me? I’m just peachy keen." She grinned as Xander shoved the last of the tridents into the wall and the monster suddenly evaporated.

"I’m human," Angel gasped. "I can feel my heart beating!"

"No way!" Faith beamed at her mentor. "Fuckin’ A! Whoa!" she shuddered as the floor shook and dust started to fall from the ceiling. "Looks like this place is falling to pieces. Xan!" Faith glanced towards the Watcher. "Time to hustle, dud- oof!"

She gasped as Angel crashed shoulder-first into her already aching mid-section, the force of the blow knocking her off her feet. Her mouth opened to ask the former vampire what the hell he was playing at.

And then a huge boulder slammed into the man lying sprawled where she’d stood, crushing him underneath, and her soul ripped into a thousand pieces. "ANGEL!"

* * *

Giles hit the ground as a Beastman crashed a gnarled fist into his chest, winding him. In an instant, Shannon was between him and the demon, the Slayer’s expertly-wielded blade slashing through.

Mid-air.

Giles blinked as his exhaustion befuddled brain struggled to comprehend what had happened. The demonic army had suddenly melted away.

But what a terrible price. Giles’ heart shattered as he looked around, the once lush grass now copper-brown with Slayer blood, girls lying dismembered across the battleground, the piteous screams of the dying and merely wounded tearing at his conscience. "They did it."

Giles nodded at Caridad’s whisper, of his protectors her and Shannon were the only two who remained. "It would appear so."

"Mr. Giles?" Shannon pointed to the left.

"Good lord," Giles moaned at the startling sight of beasts more nefarious than any vampires heading towards their position. "Journalists." Camera crews to be exact, maybe as many as a dozen of them. He looked towards Caridad. "Dear, get as many Slayers as you can to assist me in holding these buggers back, only don’t use any with any sort of medical training. They’re needed here."

* * *

Xander stared fuzzily at the scene before him. A hysterically sobbing Faith was trying to lift a huge rock off Angel’s clearly crushed body, a boulder so large that four Slayers wouldn’t be able to shift it. Forcing his legs under his control, he started towards the beautiful brunette, all the while shooting worried looks at the chamber’s cracking ceiling.

"Faith!" he had to shout to be heard over the chamber’s quaking. "We have to leave here! Now!"

Xander’s voice died when the Slayer turned to him, a chilling look of insanity in the Bostonian’s pool-like eyes he’d only seen once before. Of course that was the time she’d damn near choked him to death, so not a good memory. "You wanted this!" She screamed. "You’re glad he’s dead." Xander opened his mouth to deny the accusation. Once sure, but not now.

The Slayer’s elbow crashed into his chest before he had the chance to utter a word in his defence. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet and dumped him on the ground five feet away. Tears of pain blurring his vision, Xander reached into his ankle holster and pulled out the tranq gun he’d used twice during his time in Africa to bring in rouge Slayers.

He squinted as he aimed the gun at the oblivious Slayer, more than conscious how the volatile beauty would react if he made a mess of this. After a final lick of the lips, he squeezed the trigger.

The supernatural warrior shuddered as the dart thudded into her neck. Xander’s heart dropped as the Slayer yanked the dart out of her neck, and turned to him, glaring eyes impaling him. "Oh crap."

"You son of a bitch!" Xander backed off as the beauty advanced on him. "I am gonna rip your fuckin-." Suddenly Faith’s eyes dulled and her face slackened. Then she fell face first onto the ground beside him.

"Couldn’t she have done that before I filled my shorts?" Xander muttered as he climbed to his feet, picked up the limp Slayer and slung her over his shoulder. As always with the Slayers, he was surprised just how light the ebony-eyed beauty was. Stepping out of the tunnel, he heaved a sigh of relief when he found the pits that had obstructed their way had disappeared. "That’s one problem solved. All I have to do is get out of here before the whole place collapses." He stumbled as the chamber shook. "And before Faith awakens and objects to my whole ‘me Tarzan, you Jane act’."

Women’s lib had a lot to answer for.

* * *

"That is to say-."

The urgency of Willow’s mental scream caused Giles’ skull to reverberate with enough force to almost bring him to his knees. "Bloody hell, woman," he muttered, "calm down." Although Willow’s distress did at least give him opportunity to break away from dealing with Satan’s sidekicks, aka the media. "Kennedy," he glanced towards the bloodied but still resolute brunette, "keep them back." The Slayer nodded. "Oh and should they give you any hassle, don’t be shy about them in their place. Afterwards we can always chalk any injuries up to misfortune."

Giles started through the battleground, careful not to look away from the dead, dying, and wounded. He’d brought them all here, he couldn’t demean their sacrifice by not bearing witness. "Riley," he smiled when he found the young soldier, uninjured save from a swollen jaw and cut above his left eye, "have you seen Willow?"

"Over by the big oak," the young man directed.

"Thank you," he nodded, "thank you for everything." He hurried over to find Willow crouched beside a slight female sat limply against a giant oak -, his eyes widened in recognition. "Faith!" his heart jumped. "You’re alright!" His eyes narrowed as he noted the dullness in the Slayer’s usually luminous eyes. "What’s wrong with her?"

"She’s drugged," a teary-eyed Willow responded.

Giles looked around, heart thumping in sudden terror. "And Xander where is he?"

The Wicca’s gaze snapped to him. "I just found her here, no Xander, no Angel. I don’t know where either of them are!"

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